February 23, 2012

My soap opera. Without the soap. Or the water.

Now my main bathroom is hanging in tatters. Demo is very fast. Like, minutes-fast. The rebuilding and installing takes considerably longer. Like, weeks-long. I help my contractors by trotting bits of stuff out to the dumpster, and making Christopher get up so he can lift the heavy pieces. I am sitting, still, at the dining room table to work. Christopher is sitting beside me, which I do not like very much at all.

He jiggles his leg when he sits at his computer. This makes my monitor wiggle, and then it makes me car sick. So I smack him, and he never sees it coming because he has his headset on. That element of surprise is about the only joy I get out of all of this. Just now, in the spirit of companionship, I offered to sing Adele for him. He asked that I not do that.

When the noise got really bad this morning, and I was on a deadline that wasn't happening, Christer offered me his headphones. I put them on, and told him to dial me up something soothing to listen to. He clicked a button (I couldn't see what, but I'm pretty sure it said Old Fart Music), and before you know it, I had blocked out the saws and was rocking out to Coldplay. Christer asked me to stop yelling when I spoke. He then asked me stop singing. He then told me to just be quiet all together.

By yesterday, the toilet that worked was in the new basement bathroom. The shower that worked was in the upstairs bathroom. The kitchen sink was working in between. We were sitting at the table last night, and Christer got up to use the bathroom. Christer's girlfriend Pam and I both sat here as quiet as little bugs as we watched him go all the way upstairs, groan when he realized there was no toilet, then have to go all the way to the basement. I like Pam because she is as evil as I am.

You may not know this, but when people do plumbing type work, they have to touch nasty things. I stand there with a look on my face - you know the look - and they just carry on, and give me a glance that says 'well, what did you think, Princess, this stuff just did itself?'. This morning at the foot of the stairs in the basement, Maggie had snarked up a hairball. When Steve got here, he started going down the stairs, stopped and told me I might want to clean that up, because it was really gross. The man who has been snaking out 40 years of poop pipes jumps at a hairball.

Maggie said she didn't do it; she pointed to JoJo.

Update: I noticed that Christer has taken off his headset. Believing very much in seize the day (though carp diem makes me think more of ten cent goldfish), I again offered to sing Adele. He again said no. "I know most of the words, even," I assured him. Again he said no. "And the bits I can't remember, I just do 'nah, nah, nah, nah'...." Sorry Adele. Have to murder your songs another day.


Anonymous jmd said...

Good Lord, Coldplay is music for "old farts"? I like The Band, and Steely Dan. You will have to use carbon dating to figure out my age.

February 23, 2012 4:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

JMB - Do they have carbon dating that far back

February 23, 2012 5:29 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

Oh, someone isn't playing nice=)

Roz will pile in here soon and say the way to find my age is to cut me in half and count the rings.

February 23, 2012 5:45 PM  
Anonymous jmd said...

Hey, I'm so old, I was a waitress at The Last Supper. And they were lousy tippers.

February 23, 2012 5:59 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

Well, I tell my kids to especially tip well in places you're going to return to.


February 23, 2012 6:03 PM  
Anonymous buzzwhack said...

ME-OOOWWW! said the maitre D while making the sign of the claw....
Home renovations are crazy times. Your account so reminds me of the time our upstairs bath was converted. It was worth it, no question, but the destruction-loss of use-agonizing slow rebirth cycle wasn't missed!
Having the house redone is a smart move...esp in the bathroom and kitchen. You'll never regret it.I hope you're still testing cars and stuff for G&M.Anything exciting there? Absolutely NO COMMENT on my latest pass words...other than I'm offended Mr. Toews!

February 23, 2012 8:35 PM  
Blogger OmemeeOzzie said...

Your age query is an easy one - you blurted it out during your recent CBC radio interview...

February 24, 2012 4:53 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

I really don't get people who lie about their age. I mean, I went to high school with people, you grow up with people, and all of a sudden the guy you sat next to in math is 53, and you're 42?

I've been accused of shaving a couple of years off because I was a couple of years ahead. But I can't be bothered. One more thing to remember, and these days things are sliding off my remembery like it's coated in Teflon.

February 24, 2012 4:58 PM  
Blogger OmemeeOzzie said...

Tell a lie about anything, and then you may have several versions of your life or a story to remember. I've accumulated way too much crap anyway to be bothered adding superflous dreck to my decaying once sponge-like brain.

February 24, 2012 5:16 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am about to embark on a bathroom reno. I have loved having an ensuite but it is over 40 years old and needs to be fixed. Now I am looking at sharing a bathroom with my three kids for a few weeks and have to admit, I am spoiled and this is not going to be fun, but oh so worth it in th end!

February 24, 2012 5:20 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

We have only ever had one bathroom - and I grew up in this house. The only time I get an ensuite is when I travel. And everyone wonders why I never come out of the bathroom.

Oh, and speaking of 40 years? You should see the wallpaper we're uncovering.

Oh, Mom...(shakes head sadly...)

February 24, 2012 5:23 PM  

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