When we last left the action in the saga of the bathroom floor, I’d gotten a call that the floor guys hadn’t received our materials from the supplier, so work wouldn’t be able to commence on Friday as planned. We were pencilled in for Tuesday. Frustrating, but, alas, par for this particular course.

Saturday morning we got a call from the floor guy, ten minutes before the store was supposed to close, letting us know that our chosen vinyl flavor had been discontinued. Luckily, we were out and about doing some routine shopping when the call hit my cell, and only about 30 yards from the storefront, so we were able to pick a new color (a shade or two off from the old one) that day, and, ideally, the guy would get the order in that day as well, and we’d still be able to keep our Tuesday booking.

I also cleared up something with the guy, who is the one who will be (sometime in the next century, one hopes) doing the work. When he came to measure, the message got passed to me that the damaged floor wasn’t necessarily an issue. Turns out it was a significant issue, and needed fixing to make sure a good job was done.

Because I’m cheap, I spent all day Sunday pulling toilets, tearing up old linoleum, and replacing a reasonably big chunk of subfloor. This involved such therapeutic activities as taking a heavy hammer to water damaged boards and smashing a big hole in the floor, and such unpleasantness as attempting to attach sistered joists under the house with hammer and nail while working around pipes, kneeling in who knows what, and showering in fiberglass insulation. The hammer business didn’t work out so well, so eventually, I said “screw it”, and then did so.

The total cost was twenty-eight dollars in lumber, fasteners, and new blades for the jigsaw, way too many hours of my time, a few splinters, and a couple of bruised fingers which make me look as if I’d just voted in an an Iraqi election (give me a heavy, blunt tool, I will smash my hand with it). Oh, and a toilet sitting in the hallway, because there’s no real point in attaching it, only to pull it again 48 hours later (we can pee upstairs in the little, unpleasant bathroom for a day or two). The end result is not beautiful, but it’s functional, and certainly good enough to be covered with quarter-inch luan before the new vinyl goes down, and leave us with a nice, level surface. I’m actually kind of proud.

And, having moved the toilet out of the way, we managed to install a nice faux-tile backsplash behind it, which, much like The Dude’s rug, “really tie[s] the room together”.

Monday, having long since given up phoning the place after the measurement ordeal, I visited the floor place on my lunch break, to confirm Tuesday’s work, and report on the status of the subfloor repair. Not surprisingly, our scheduled time isn’t going to work because the material won’t be available, so we’re looking at Wednesday or Thursday.

Argh.

Today, I’m having Colleen call them, maybe a dose of pregnancy-hormone induced rage will scare them into making things happen more rapidly. This is getting ridiculous.

did I mention I still have a non-functioning toilet sitting in my hallway?
-chuck