Moving Day!

It’s been a roller coaster… for snails… but we finally got our furniture from Jakarta.

The company wouldn’t ship until Ted was in place and Ted wasn’t in place until August.

Then a week for packing, a couple weeks in customs because Indonesia sucks and Chevron doesn’t pay bribes even to grease the skids on my furniture shipment.

Then eight weeks on the high seas (where container ships sometimes lose a few over the side- an eventuality we try really hard not to think a lot about).

Then onto a train from Long Beach to New Orleans, and finally loaded out into a moving van to Birmingham where it is re-loaded into two smaller trucks because a semi won’t fit down our quarter mile driveway without taking out a lot of trees.

I left Jakarta the first of May thinking I was coming to Alabama to finish up the renovations then returning to Indonesia in August.

Instead, six months later, my stuff is coming to me.  Better late than never!

My hero husband juggled time off and managed to get over here to help me.  I wasn’t looking forward to checking off inventory while some guy who wished I’d get on with it waited for me to read the contents and tell him where it went.  Times 3 guys.








Meet Jason, John, and Quentin in the first truck on the first day.  They have worked together for a while and sound like The Honeymooners.  Quentin likes Auburn, the other two like Alabama.  You will have to visit to experience what a huge thing that is here, but trust me- it’s a thing.




It was quickly decided that the truck would be emptied and things parceled out from there.

They unboxed our loveseats first, and under the first cushion in the first loveseat they found a hitchhiker…




Poor little guy was completely flattened and mummified.  All he wanted was a new life in America.

John the Head Mover handed him to me with some clever remark thinking I would scream once I saw what it was.

Silly man.

He has obviously never lived in Indonesia.  Or Africa for that matter.  These things are everywhere.  Dead, alive, big, little, day and night.

I took it and showed Ted what we got.

Ted’s comment was “bookmark!” – the movers looked at us a little differently after that.

Meanwhile, Simon did a good job of supervising…




…but even with Ted and him helping I quickly lost control of the parceling.




I started yelling ‘garage!’ every time they showed me a box with small bits or questionable contents and the garage started filling up really fast.



You can see some our furniture shaped boxes… they literally built the cardboard around all of our furniture which was a terrible way to move it, but unlike the move from Africa, no one asked us.  Don’t get me started on their version of wardrobe boxes…

I’m not sure what it means that our final company move was the screwiest.  God knows we’ve done it enough to know how it goes, and this one was definitely our strangest.

Anyway… things started wrapping up fairly fast on the second day.

Once the guys left, we had piles of stuff on every flat surface and the job of spreading it around began.


























There are still tweaks and adjustments to be made, but it’s 99% finished now (although my hero left before most of the spreading was done…). 

We are edging closer and closer to a normal life.


Paying the Piper

Obviously we are completely smitten by the fact that we could finally live exactly where we want, and this lake house is just the best place ever.

I get that it’s not everyone’s idea of paradise – some people want their water salty, some don’t (gasp!) want water at all, some people need the thin, dry air of a mountain top and others like to sweat in the dry sand and have green rocks for a yard.  But we have exactly what we wanted and have been wallowing in it unashamedly.

Our lake provides a place to cool off, breezes from a water cooled open area covering many acres, a liquid playground for all kinds of activities, a killer view, instant fishing opportunities and

a whole new way to be terrified by Mother Nature. 

I admit I am a sissy when it comes to violent weather.  And for me, violent is defined as anything that scares me at all.  Period.

We were in Hurricane Ike in Texas.  We were on the ‘clean’ side, 35 miles from the coast, and still I was certain throughout that long and frightening night that we would, at best, own a house in the morning that had no roof. If there is a catastrophic outcome possible, I will have thought of it and be obsessing about its possibility as soon as the first weatherman says, “There’s a 60% chance of…”

So imagine the things I was able to conjure in my fevered mind when the National Weather Service gave me 48 hours notice that high winds, flooding rain and possible tornadoes were headed my way, especially over lake areas.


Thanks for the warning guys.

I immediately began eyeing the many large trees ringing our property, calculating their heights and the possible angles of their precipitous falls (most of them directly on my house, garage, or boat dock of course, because why fall if not to destroy my stuff?)

I scurried around the house and yard, moving potted plants to the ‘safe’ North side of the house away from the direct assault of the storm approaching from the SW, piling deck chairs and tables together away from windows, moving cushions and candle lanterns indoors, rolling up doormats and stuffing them all in the garage.

Then my Practical But Absent Husband, hereinafter referred to as Poobah, messages me on Skype and says “Get the flashlights, crank radio, weather radio, and dog leash where you can get them in a hurry.”  Check, check, check, and check.  Took all but one flashlight and stuck them in our ‘Tornado Room’ which is the closet of the guest room, tucked neatly up under the concrete garage floor, into the hillside, on the NW side of the house.

It’s the only closet I have ever had that is outfitted with two plastic adirondack chairs (with cushions).  The years of me cowering in the basement with my Barbie Dreamhouse amid the lime stains are over, my friend.  I will now cower in comfort with wall to wall carpet and summer furniture.

So I’m ready.  I’m prepared. I’m meeting this storm with an adult attitude and only slight nausea and shivering.

[Side bar: am I the only one who discovered, as the first time parent of a 4 year old, that suddenly I was the one in charge of making storms not scary while actually being scared out of my pants?  The one who had to smile and act like “Pfffft! what’s a little cloud-to-ground lightning that hit our house? Who cares if that tree limb just clipped the eaves?” To my credit, I must have done a good job of being calm on the outside, because that former 4 year old slept through the above mentioned hurricane in his own bed a dozen years later.]

So anyway, I’m ready.  I thought. Then the Poobah says,

“Have you checked the cables on the dock?”

MY DOCK??? My beautiful, floating, expensive, brand new dock? The one that holds my beloved motorized water toys? The dock with the new lights and little indoor/outdoor rug and box full of non-motorized water toys? THAT DOCK???

“No,” sez I, “I haven’t.  Why?”

Well. Turns out there are even more Laws of Physics that I am unable to convert to real life Problems With Solutions that involve cable tension, pivot degrees, torque, and all sorts of other stupid science terms that basically boil down to new ways to stress me out during major weather events.

The cables on our dock run neatly off each back corner and are anchored to the rock on which the house sits.  In addition, to avoid (as much as possible) having the dock roof catch a 50mph breeze and become a sail, we have cement filled anchors deep in the water, tied to more cables secured to the front of the dock.  Forgive me for thinking this was my ‘storm preparedness’.

Our lake level fluctuates throughout the year as Alabama Power leaks water out of their dam for more science-y stuff and the cables need to be occasionally tightened or loosened to keep a fairly normal tension on them so the dock doesn’t swing off to one side or the other.  No biggie.  The racheting ‘tock tock tock tock tock’ sound of someone doing a little cable adjusting is a normal sound around here.


See the nice cable shining in the sunlight on the left? There is a corresponding one on the right.

No one told me we also had to do OTHER things to the cables when a storm is coming.

Plenty of people don’t.

The summer people for starters.

But then this happens:


Thank you to Ivan Diaz for these three pictures, posted October 14, 2014.

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So fine.  My hatches are battened down.  I’m ready for this ordeal except, apparently, for the dock.

I abandon the emotionless written words of Skype messaging and call my Poobah for precise, no nonsense verbal instructions on how to save my dock and my sanity.

His instructions?

“Hmmm. I’m not real sure.”

Eventually we settled on a combination of “loosen the east side so it doesn’t rip it out of the pulley then tighten the creek side so the dock stops twanging it when it shifts” and “I don’t know, does it look right?”.

Since it was starting to rain already and I was pre-nauseated from an entire day of gusty 25mph winds pushing the front of my house (and dock) we decided that it did look right and I retreated upstairs to the relative safety of my hilltop house.

On a normal day, this is what my house looks like when you come from the South…

DSCF1208…and this is where we start Paying the Piper.  Because Monday this tranquil view was marred by whitecaps, black skies, and all those freaking trees whipping around like dervishes.

Almost as soon as I got upstairs and stood where the roof supports make that white plus sign, I saw wind driven rain heading straight for me across the half mile of water between us and the south shore.  I grabbed the dog and made it inside just ahead of a sheet of rain and wind that made the plate glass moan.

And then the power went out.

Luckily, we have a generator that can run the fridge, some lights and a powered down version of climate control.  It is also actually louder than the much bigger one we had in Africa, but that’s another issue.  It did its job- hurdle crossed.

And then the sun set.

60+ mph winds, driving rain, thunder, lightning, and lake whitecaps turned breakers smashing into the rocks of our shoreline. All I can see is the white water spraying everywhere.  Can’t see the dock. Can’t see the cables.

I don’t know what happened.  The dog and I cowered in the tornado room in our deck chairs pretending we were on a cruise ship in a cheap inside cabin.

About 11:30 pm my laptop radar showed the scary red and orange part of the storm beyond us headed for Atlanta, and all the tornadoes north of us.  We ventured out to find the wind still raging but the rain mostly stopped.  The dock, in the beam of my biggest flashlight, appeared to still be right side up and tethered to the shore on both sides.

Crawl into bed. Pretend to sleep for 6 more hours while going onto the deck in the still keening wind every 45 minutes to check the dock in the flashlight beam.

Tuesday morning, sky still full of black clouds, but the wind has died down, the (usually dry) creek is running full tilt and at 8:45 am, precisely 16 hours after it blew, the power comes back on.

This lake has over 500 miles of shoreline.  It is FULL of water.  This storm has (so far) added TWO FEET of water to the lake level.

Big storm. Really big storm.

And I’d do it all again to be able to live here forever.  In fact I will do it all again.

And again.

But next time, the Poobah better be here to act like an adult so I don’t have to.

Lake Critters

Living in the sticks is so nice in so many ways… more stars than I think I’ve ever seen in my life, no traffic sounds, no sirens, and lots of nature all around.

We have lots of creatures, great and small, and I haven’t been as handy getting pictures of the mammals as I have of the insect-y ones, so I’m gonna share what I have so far of our insect, reptile, and winged friends (I’m pretty sure the Turkey Vultures would be insulted to be included here, which is why I’m doing it… ).






















Cool, yes?  There are lots more I haven’t been able to catch with my camera yet, and I have a remedial knowledge of almost all these things, so feel free to school me in the comments!



We have had ownership of this property for almost exactly a year now, and as we finally wrap up the renovations and look forward to getting our furniture from Jakarta, I seem to have killed our tallest tree.

Quick, somebody play taps.

The tree was a 75 foot white oak growing on the west side of the house, kind of in the middle of the lawn between the house and the woods on the edge of our property.

I don’t have pictures of it, because it was not really part of any of the stuff we changed or even part of our decision to buy this property… but you can see it here:

DSC_0069It’s the super tall tree on the left center of the picture, next to the house behind the really bushy green one close to the lake.

The green one.

The tall, green, 81 year old white oak.


WHOOPS! Not so fast, there pardner…




What’s that you say? What happened to the tree, you ask?

Really good questions.  I used them to play “Stump the Tree Surgeon”.

On a recent Monday, I was enjoying an evening on the deck with a glass of wine and my spy-noculars, when a flash of brown passed through my peripheral vision.

Lo and behold, the entire bottom half of the white oak was brown and shedding its leaves.

“Hrmm.”  says I  “That’s probably not a good sign.”

Thursday, I again examined said tree.  Top half dead too.

In four days.

After 81 years of watching the land, then the lake, then the house, the biggest tree on our little acre of heaven said ‘Enough!’ and croaked.

So I called the tree surgeon.  He looked at it.  Thumped it. Scratched it. Then quoted me a price to bring it down.

“It happens.” was the diagnosis.

This is a huge tree.  Sitting 15 feet from my house and towering over it.  Shall we wait and see if it leafs out next spring while waiting to see if it’s going to rot and fall on the house instead?


As much as we love white oaks, this one was, as the Munchkin Mayor said “…really most sincerely dead”, and although it provided some nice shade for the bedroom wall and the open section of the deck, it sat on a slope, dropped acorns everywhere and kept the whole west side of the yard from growing any grass for 40 feet up from the lake.

We are in favor of trees, but not troublesome ones, so… break out the chainsaws.

It took the guy two weeks to get to us, during which time the tree got deader and deader… sending oak leaves everywhere while the trees all around it merrily waved their green leafy branches at it. 

Then the newest characters in my character rich environment arrived.




Four good old boys, three of whom had so much tobacco stuffed behind their lips they could hardly speak.  Add to that some real down home southern accents and I felt like I was back in a foreign country smiling and nodding and trying to understand what the hell they were saying while doing a simultaneous translation.

Really nice guys.  Fun and funny, but deadly serious about what they were doing.  Everyone had a job and they were very methodical and professional.  Make no mistake – Bubba (or Larry, in this case) knows what he’s doing.

So they chuck some rope up to the very top with a cool weighted ball thingie and the littlest guy (wearing those cool boots with the spike in the side) starts belaying himself up the tree, whacking off branches as he goes.



Now play Where’s Bubba with this picture… (I  swear there is a guy in the shot)




…and the guy still in the tree, branches all lopped off…





So I’m talking to Larry (the tree doc), telling him that wearing the spiky boots and hauling up to the tree tops is every kid’s career goal at some time and he says “Yeah, except it’s not that fun.” I expressed surprise and said, “Well at least he gets a great view.”

Cue the Bubba snorts all around.

Turns out the guy up the tree doesn’t like heights.  From 65 feet up he says, “I don’t look down, I just concentrate on what’s in front of me.  I don’t like it up here.”

And that, my friends, is what’s called Job Irony.

Anyhoo, he finally sawed his way out of the branches and administered the coup de grace…






…then he started working his way back down taking chunks of tree with him.




Every time he shoved a new log overboard it hit the ground with a huge thud and shook the deck I was standing on.  So, not riddled with beetles or termites. That tree was solid. And heavy.





All that was left now was to grind the stump.

I look up the driveway and a guy is walking down the hill with a big orange stump grinder following him.  The man has a remote control stump grinder!  Big toys for big boys.  Big expensive toys.




Do you see him standing there holding his remote?  Now you know, when he found this thing in the Lumberjack Quarterly his eyes lit up like Christmas.  I hadn’t seen this guy all day – he just showed up when it was time to grind and disappeared once the deed was done.  Nice gig.




And finally, after everyone worked to haul off the logs, rake the leaves and spread the sawdust for mulch, this is what it all looks like now…




It was a terrifically hot day… the hottest of the summer to that point – over 100 degrees of ‘feels like’ temperature with air you could wring out like a sponge and those guys were suffering. I was standing in the shade taking pictures and still sweating like crazy, so I can’t imagine how hard it was for them to lift branches and logs while covered in itchy sawdust that stuck to them like it was glued on.

They usually quit at 5.  When they finished at my house, they quit at 2.  Good decision.


Four guys, four hours (plus the remote stump grinder guy who was having too much fun for work) and the world has one less giant white oak. 

We shed a tear for our departed tree, but as always around here…



Little Bits from the Lake…

If you live in a city lucky enough to still have Ice Cream Trucks, you will recognize the sound of a Scott Joplin rag coming up your street, maybe accompanied by the sound of children’s laughter and the joy that comes with it.


On our lake, you can hear the same tune way before you see…


the pontoon boat that is playing it as he makes his way around the lake.



As you can see, he only has popsicles. [Edit: He has MORE than popsicles! Can it get any better?]

And they are very expensive ($3). 

But the point is we have a Popsicle Boat! 


He will come to your dock or meet up with you in the middle of the lake.



He has a fish net delivery system that works nicely and avoids accidental sinking of your popsicle.



The laughing children are still present but there are usually more adults flagging him down.  :)

This guy’s name is Dave Dempsey and we are glad he chose our lake to hang out on.

 (don’t forget to click on the pictures to see Dave close up)


Final Renovations

Well it’s been a busy Spring and Summer.

Once the dock was in and I could easily fall into the lake and just as easily haul myself back out, cool and refreshed, it was much easier to watch everyone around me work at jobs I have only a vague idea of how to do and no skills for whatsoever.

The walls inside the house all got painted downstairs, along with our bedroom and the future TV room (formerly the Dining Room). The two downstairs baths got their fresh countertops and one of them got a new set of tile to replace the molded plastic shower, and we have all been saved from the last of the hideous striped wallpaper and wallpaper borders in both places.

I’ll spare you the drama of more renovation tedium and move on to the big stuff…

We decided the vinyl siding had to go… it was doing poorly and the gaps and edges made us cringe everytime we caught sight of them in the low sun of early evening, so we decided to re-side the house in Hardie Plank (a terrific termite proof cement board siding that we have had on two previous houses and can recommend whole heartedly).  As we pored over the standard color choices for the Hardie Plank our contractor informed us he could order it with primer and we could paint it any color we liked, and we jumped at the chance to get a ‘non-standard’ Hardie color. 

The primer is an unfortunate mustard yellow… think Grey Poupon.  Good to eat, ugly on a house.  The neighbors were temporarily alarmed until we told them it was primer, then re-alarmed when we showed them the paint color we had chosen.  Oh well.  They were gracious, and acknowledged that we didn’t get to pick their ordinary pale brown either, so we were even in the Paint Your House Sweepstakes.

Anyway, here are before and after pictures of the sad blue vinyl being replaced with our particular color of happy (you don’t have to like it either- we are very pleased and that’s all that matters).



BEFORE Old, sad, pale vinyl siding.


AFTER Spiffy new siding. Swell new color.




BEFORE Ugly brick, gapped siding.                           



AFTER Smooth new siding, much better match for brick.



BEFORE Pale house. So sad.


AFTER Vibrant house, with dock, stairs, and color!


AFTER Happy house of color.




AFTER Always a good deck, now a deeply colored, whitely outlined oasis of happiness.


What color it is depends on the time of day.  The chip we chose is a deep burgundy and the house matches the chip perfectly.  But in bright sun and occasionally on a whim, there is definitely a splash of purple in there and that’s cool, if for no other reason than that it assures us of a pretty uncommon choice of house color.  :) 

As with our living room, the new warmer paint color made the existing white trim pop very nicely and even made the nasty brown mottled bricks look less like a state prison motif than they used to.

It took 3 coats of paint (and WEEKS of time because of constant rain) to get it completely covered, but by god it’s well and truly painted now.

The Dock!

What’s a lake house without a dock, right?

Almost all the houses we looked at already had docks, which can be good because the ones you need on this lake are expensive, but bad because you get stuck with someone else’s idea of what kind of dock is useful.

The water off the front of our property is more than 60 feet deep, so traditional docks are out. Here they have to float and the docks  become part of the landscape – the water doesn’t freeze, so they are permanently moored by cables to the shore, and the cables are made tighter or looser as the lake levels fluctuate (Alabama Power operates the dam and lake levels. They do not, however, operate our electricity, which cracks us up).

So we spent last fall agonizing over the new dock – one slip or two? what color roof? what shape roof? what color decking? Archways? dockbox? how big should the swim deck be? etc. etc. etc.   They fabricated it over the winter and waited for our return to deliver and install it.

What follows are pictures of the big day… (click the pictures to embiggen them)


Off in the distance, we spotted a dock being pushed around the point and headed for our house…




It’s here! The dock is here!



At this point the dock was tied to our shore side trees and left to pivot while they did the final work on it (fixed pillars and decking that couldn’t handle the rolling and waves of the crossing).


Then the dock was moved into position so the cables could be connected on each side and the underwater ballast anchors could be set (those help keep the dock from catching wind on the underside of the roof and flipping back over itself).


Finishing touches (like getting rid of thousands of tiny aluminum shavings).


Ta Da! We are docked!

Renovations Begin Part Three

Finally! I bet you thought I dropped off the face of the Earth, yes?

I was missing some ‘after’ pictures, and although the winter was an eventful one in Jakarta, it was fairly slow (and COLD) in Alabama. So let me catch you up on the things that were finished, or nearly so, last fall…

The master bathroom was, to put it mildly, not to our taste.  It was pink. It had a shell motif border around the ceiling.  The shower was a plastic molded unit, and the accessories were all gold finished.  It did have a very nice, new Jacuzzi tub, but the last time I took a bath willingly was in 1965.  Stewing in grubby water has never appealed to either of us, no matter how many candles we use or how much champagne we drink, so while it was an unpopular decision among the people who don’t live here, the tub was scrapped.

Anyway, this is what we had to work with…


My scale model is gazing in dismay at the molded plastic shower unit, and basically it all just had to go.  Here is the shower just before it left the building.  Note the lovely shell wallpaper border…


Dave got started on the early demo and then things just got ripped out and patched, ready for our new stuff.




Demolition is messy.  Re-building after you demolish is messy and noisy.  Really, really messy and noisy.  All this was going on in the bathroom while the rest of the house was getting painted/hardwooded/new doored.  But it was educational.



….and the beginning of my epic glass block shower wall…

Image…then the shower walls and floor, vanity and wall paint…






Phew!  And finally the finished master bath…






It’s messy because we are still living oddly as the last of the renovations are done, but most of the work is being done downstairs now….


And that’s the renovations we did last fall, in three parts.  I had a great time because we had a great contractor and crew and Ted had a great time because he didn’t have to see it happening (his Civil Engineering Soul would have stroked out if he’d been forced to watch all this).

Renovations Begin Part Two

Welcome Back!

So. In addition to the master bathroom, the hardwood floors, the fireplace reface and the cabinet work, we wanted to re-jigger a couple of things.

I doubt anyone out there could look at this front porch and not find it cringeworthy…


Ted never found it as objectionable as I did, but he agreed it really wasn’t very attractive, and since my solution was a fairly inexpensive re-face, he succumbed to my whining and voila!

this is before it was even grouted!

Here’s a close up of it, once it was grouted…


Quelle improvement, yes?  Yes!

Meanwhile, back in the house… there is a closet/cupboard thingie that our sellers were using as a pantry.


Doesn’t look too bad, until you actually open the doors and have to deal with ugly, awkward, in-the-way bi-fold doors. Bleah.


Add this to the list of things Ted didn’t really find as objectionable as I did, factor in some more whining on my part, and voila!


The perfect solution.  A barn door over the shelving, that slides right across the doorway to the stairs when open. 

Stairs that used to have a baby gate that I ripped off the wall the first day we moved in (no babies have ever lived in this house, so don’t ask us…). 

Here’s a pic of the hardware when it first went up, before the door was added…


Meanwhile, outside the house, Tim the Painter was busy making all the goofy add ons the same color (the ramp our sellers put in and the stairs we put in).



Big improvement there, too, once the shine wore off that bright white- which didn’t take very long.  :)

We had a dumpster delivered to hold all the garbage that came out of the house.  The guys working on it took the old shower stall, bathtub, vanity, doors and toilet, but all the tile, carpet, wood and stuff went into the dumpster.

We filled it.  I forgot to take a picture of it full but use your imagination…


And now all that’s left to show you is the master bath renovations! I don’t have all the pictures for it yet, so sit tight and I’ll be back with Part Three before you know it!

The Renovations Begin…

Ted went back to Jakarta and I stayed behind in Alabama and we braved a 7 week separation in order to take care of the two biggest renovation projects on our list (replace ~1000 sq ft of flooring with hardwood, gut the Master Bath) plus take care of a little pile of smaller projects.  I definitely got the better end of that stick… even living through major renovations couldn’t dampen my love of this house and this lake- and now the people who helped me in so many ways to get it all done, from the pest control to the insurance.

[As always, you can click each picture to make it bigger]

The house had, inexplicably, three different floor coverings on the main floor- a whitewashed engineered wood, grey carpet, and grey tile.

They were laid at odd angles, had nail pops, stains, and a bad case of ugly.  So job #1 was to pull up everything that would not eventually be replaced with new carpet and put down oak hardwood floors. 

Since all our cabinets and trim were glossy white paint, we chose a cherry stain for the oak.

Here’s the floor we objected to:


Note carpet “shaping”. The tiny bit of floor on lower left is engineered wood.


This is the engineered wood- entry, hall and kitchen. You can’t see the nail pops but trust me, they are there.


Don’t ask us. Someone apparently had a plan, or some sort of logic, or maybe just a tic…

It made no sense to us, we didn’t like it, and it had to go.

First we had to remove the hideous track lighting/speaker setup…


…and then paint the ceiling and walls. 



The painter tore down the tracklights, masked the cabinetry and painted the ceiling a fresh white.

Then my new best friends (plumber/electrician/carpenter/handymen) came in and ripped all the ugly floors up and tore the boring white ceramic tile off the fireplace…


The fireplace as it looked when we were househunting…


And finally they painted the walls a color called ‘stepping stone’ which made the white window trim look brand new!


Now we were finally ready for some beautiful new hardwood…









In and around the floor work, the guys were putting slate tile up on the fireplace and converting the TV shelves to bookshelves…

fpl2 fpl6




So we ended up with a painted room, new wood floors, a re-faced fireplace and hearth, and re-purposed shelving. 


It was messy, dusty, loud, and painfully slow, but they got it done.  Mostly.  We are still missing the wood trim around the hearth, because it has to be milled and wasn’t high on the priority list, so…

If you are enjoying the renovation narration, stick with me and I’ll take you through the rest in digestible chunks.  

If you aren’t, I totally understand and I hope you will come back when I switch from “getting ready to move in” to “life on a lake in Alabama”.

It promises to be a colorful one if the last two months are any indication.  :)