How's Robb?

... Cardigan wants to know when I'm going to finish working on the bathroom.  "WHYYYYYYY aren't you done, Human?" I managed to paint the tile under the sink and behind the toilet. I got half of the tile in the corner by the bathtub done. And yes, I did quite a bit of this work laying on my back with my head wedged under the tub.  I had taken off the tank of our new 1947 toilet, so I could paint the wall behind it. Together, Robb and I reinstalled the toilet tank. It mostly works. We have a bit of fine-tuning to do. But it's remarkable how easily the whole operation went. 

... I know a lot of people get a huge thrill out of shopping on the day after Thanksgiving, but honestly, I'd rather spend the day with my head under the sink.  I'm painting each restored plaster "tile" to look like vintage ceramic.  It may sound like a foolish project. More than one person has asked me why I'm going to all this trouble. And my answer comes down to three things.  First, Robb and I are interested in restoring our little old home. We're not interested in ripping out vintage details, and replacing them with modern equivalents. We want to maintain as much of the historic character of this house as we possibly can.  Second, we both feel that restoring an old home is much more ecologically gentle than embarking on new construction. If we can use what already exists, we're happy. We don't want to fill the landfill with the carcass of a gutted home.  And thirdly, we're not made ou

... Happy Thanksgiving to all our American friends.   We won't be eating (or riding) turkey, but we will be enjoying a day of coziness and home cooking. 

... I've been laid up with a stomach bug, feeling all sorts of nauseous. But work has to get done, and Robb wanted to test-fit our "new" vintage toilet.  Obviously, I haven't finished the work on the plaster tile. I can't face the smell of the paint at the moment.  Yay!  New antique toilet!  With almost all the original copper and brass tank hardware!  Yay! Having a plumbing project work on the first try!  Yay!  Having the kind of relationship where home plumbing projects don't lead to squabbling, even if one party is horribly queasy. 

... All of the parts of the plaster tile that I can reach have been resurfaced and primed.  Next up: painting the tiles to look like fake ceramic.  Unfortunately, this work is terrible for my neck and back, and I've been battling headaches all weekend. It's slow going. 

... Please tell me that you can see an improvement.  Please tell me that I'm doing admirable work. Please lie to me if you have to.  I just need to hear that spending all this time contorted around our toilet was somehow worth it. 

... After having knitted thousands and thousands of stitches, it's more than a bit daunting to intentionally chop apart one's knitting.  Hopefully, all the stabilizing crochet stitches will do their job, and this garment won't self-destruct.  It's very gratifying to sew up the sleeves.  A lot of people complain about the finishing tasks of knitting, but I genuinely enjoy sewing everything together.  There's still quite a bit to do. But it's actually looking like a garment.  And of course, the cats are very helpful.  Nothing is more soothing than having a cat jump on one's project at the exact moment when everything could be ruined.  Like, for example, when one is cutting apart one's handmade knitwear.  The cats are drunk on wool fumes. 

... I've spent the better part of this weekend, sprawled around a vintage commode, trying to improve the sorry state of my bathroom walls.  The paint on the walls was barely attached, and I was able to remove quite a lot of it with a carefully deployed razor blade.  The trick is to remove the loose paint without damaging the plaster "tiles."   After the wall is cleaned up, I masked around half the "tiles" so that they could be selectively resurfaced.  I'm applying a custom mix of joint compound, white glue, and paint. It's something I've used for years in theatrical construction. My goal is to smooth out the irregularities in the surface with a material that's strong, relatively waterproof, and somewhat flexible. I'm putting on a remarkably thin coat. The white squares have been "schmooed" and the first pass of masking tape has been removed. I'll repeat the process, evening out all the times, before I start painting.  Meanwhile,

... Maybe some blog readers are wild party animals. Or maybe they have vague memories of their misspent youths.   So, when I tell you that I spent part of my weekend with my head on the floor next to the toilet, you may be picturing a few too many cocktails the night before. Alas, it wasn't the partying and champagne that landed me in this undignified situation.  It was the sorry state of our bathroom walls, and my inability to remove paint from behind our toilet tank.  It turns out that it's not terribly difficult to temporarily remove a toilet tank. I'm going to run through the steps, for the benefit of any other old-home owners who might be reading this blog. The rest of y'all can read about my travails and feel smug, if you want.  Before work can commence, the water tank must be drained. The water supply is turned off at the wall, the toilet is flushed, and then a towel is placed inside the tank to absorb any excess water.  In the case of our vintage toilet, there a

... Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not afraid of an ambitious project. I tend to attack these projects fearlessly, and with no roadmap.  I'm not afraid to go on long excursions into terra incognito. I enjoy the challenge of figuring things out.  But occasionally this gets me into trouble, and I stall.  I had been working on this elaborate cable-knit sweater, when our house became infested with moths. It was carnage. The amount of wool (and alpaca) that was destroyed was staggering. And among the casualties was this partially-finished pullover.  While I'm generally fearless about initiating complex projects, I discovered that I was totally demoralized by the prospect of repairing a garment I hadn't even finished. The moth infestation truly upset me. So I did what any resourceful knitter would do: I turned to Ravelry. There I found a lovely local knitter, who genuinely enjoyed complex darning projects.  She did a beautiful job of repairi

... Because I can't ignore it forever, I've resumed work on the restoration of our bathroom's 1920s plaster tile. I had such a busy year at work that the last thing I wanted to do after a grueling twelve-hour day of painting was more grueling painting.  There's no way of glamorizing this. It's miserable work. I'm contorting myself into the tightest corners of my bathroom.  Our bathroom has an interesting wall surface: fake "tiles" made out of plaster. The original installers were real masters of their craft. They must have smoothed on the plaster, and then incised the lines that simulate the spaces between tile. I imagine that in its day, this was a cheaper option than actual ceramic tile.  I'm restoring all of the damaged "tile" faces.  I tape around each unit, and then smooth on a mixture of joint compound, glue, and paint. It's not the same material as the original plaster, but it's something I've used for years with great

... I'm still working on my cardigan. I had to dye more yarn for the hems and facings. I'm doing enclosed facings and hems, rather than knitting ribbing. In truth, I'm just groping my way toward the image inside my mind.  Today's task was to tidy up the ends of the yarn that were left over each time I changed color.  I had originally braided these loose ends, to keep them out of the way. But obviously, that wasn't a completed solution. After consulting with other knitters online, I opted to tie the ends off in what's called a surgeon's knot. It's utterly terrifying to cut apart knitting that I've worked on for so long.  Terrifying.  Unless you're a kitty named Cardigan, in which case it's BITE BITE BITE all the time.  String-biting aside, I'm now a little bit closer to a final garment.