Meet Frank. Frank bailed me out of one of my most stressful, and ultimately, most rewarding adventures as a homeowner. My divorce-recovery therapy was ripping out parts of my home. Sometimes I was successful at putting things back together, and sometimes, well, not so much. By now, my journey from a wife whose husband did all of the fixing things around the house to single mother and handywoman is well-known in my Northwest Austin neighborhood. My open garage was like a welcome mat for all who wandered by.
Folks walking their dogs stopped to chat and watch me paint cabinet doors in the driveway (for the kitchen, after a class on faux painting). Others wanted to know what I was cutting up with the table saw on a bright sunny day (a new bathroom counter, mesquite, locally milled). Other days, it was the tarps outside covered with spray-painted silver metallic boards (a luggage shelf for the garage) that captured someone’s attention.
A few days before I met Frank, however, the scene was a little more dramatic.
Let me tell you a little of the back story of my home, to help you catch up.
My house, purchased in 2004, was vintage 1983. Brown. Gold. Swag-chained globe lights. Dark trim, dark paneling. Flat white walls and a pool-table-bar-light gone wrong in the upstairs gameroom. Although the home had been meticulously maintained, it was U.G.L.Y.
One day, deep in the throes of my need for distraction from my pending divorce, I woke up and realized the downstairs half bath counter and sink had to GO. NOW. The counter was a dark cultured marble that had been painted (painted!) white. The paint was chipping, the doors were warped, the knobs were PLASTIC.
I ripped it out. All of it, including the toilet. Why stop when you’re having fun? The drywall guy working on the walls in the kitchen was wise – he ignored the noise coming from that end of the house, even though it took me an hour to smash the counter into pieces small enough to get through the doorway. The cabinet was a little too heavy to pick up all by myself, so I dragged it, inch by inch, out the front door and on to the porch. YAY!
A few days later, I had ordered a new sink and a new faucet and when they arrived, I got down to the business of installing them. How hard can it be, I thought? I’m reasonably intelligent, and I have a Plumbing Book With Pictures and Illustrations! The new faucet was a wall-mounted one, a commercial style, with a swing arm. Very cool. The sink was a GIGANTIC surgeons plaster sink, which I intended to put to use as both a utility sink, bathroom sink and occasional toddler bathtub.
Let me tell you – shoulda woulda coulda. I shoulda ordered a normal faucet. I woulda ordered a normal sink. I coulda hired the plumber right away. Instead, I did it myself, and when I went out to the street to turn the water to the house back on, I inadvertently left the shut-off valve for the pipes open and as I came back in to the house, I could see – and hear – water shooting out of the bathroom door, flooding the bathroom, the hallway and part of the adjacent bedroom.
30 minutes and 30 bath towels later, thanks to several neighbors, I had the water mopped up, fans running to dry the spaces and one huge plumbing lesson under my belt: make sure the shut-off valve is actually shut-off before turning on the water. To this day, I can imagine what Kelley (across the street) might have thought when I came running out of the house to turn the water back off, wild-eyed, wild-haired and soaked to the bone.
Because I am not one to back down from a challenge, the water to my house was off for two days. Two Days. I went back and forth to Lowe’s and Home Depot, because I just couldn’t get the valves properly attached to the pipes – no matter what, they leaked. Finally, in desperation, I called Frank The Plumber, and in about an hour, he had it all back together.
Now, why is this story supposed to be empowering?
Although this adventure wasn’t at the beginning of my single-homeowner journey, it marked a turning point for me. I didn’t get these valves in correctly, but I did manage to get the next ones on right, and the ones after that. I learned how to operate a plumbing blow-torch, and why that particular job should be left to a pro. I learned that I CAN do a lot of things myself, but that it’s okay to call for help when you need it. With Frank’s permission, I examined his toolbox, and then acquired a lot of the basic tools of the trade for my own tool box, and learned how to fix most of my run-of-the-mill plumbing issues, so that I am not dependent on someone who may-or-may not be around to fix something at 10pm on a weekend. Last year, I even installed my own pedestal sink while waiting for another plumber who could never manage to show up on time. I even did that one in heels and a skirt because I didn’t actually intend to put in the sink, but was just doing what I could after work, before the plumber arrived, and then realized I could do it all myself! YAY!
So if you’re ever wondering if you can do something, just remember, You Can Do It, Yes You Can!
Check out the photos!
Resources:
The Austin School of Faux Finishes taught me how to do the SkimStone on the floor. The owner, Lu Goodwin Mark, is a great resource for all faux finishes, and real ones, too. The classes on plasters and glazes are very interesting and instructive.
The wall paint is Palladian Blue by Benjamin Moore. I patronize my local Benjamin Moore dealer, Hill Country Paint on Anderson Mill. Check out these other fabulous spaces that use Palladian Blue.
The Train Rack on the wall came from Restoration Hardware.
The faucet is from Chicago Faucets. Although I LOVE this faucet, I would never try to install one myself again – you really need a master plumber to get the spacing and anchoring right in the wall.
About BigMama
