Kind of a fun, at times frustrating, project on the river that I worked off/on this summer. A couple of the pics show the box they gave me to start with and what I’m turning over to them now that I’m done with the exterior.
I really didn’t want the shed roof on this place, but an ex-boyfriend of the customer talked her into it. Damn busybody… but I guess it works. I do take full credit for the choice of cedar siding, however.
Update 11/15/12 8:01pm AST
I have one vote from a reliable industry insider in favor of the shed roof, so I will cut the ex-boyfriend some slack on this subject. All other subjects are still fair game, however.
It was -18F this morning, and I received my first frozen pipe call of the season at 8am. My response was “that it wasn’t cold enough yet for frozen pipes. What are you going to do when it drops to -50?”
“Well, you’re going to fix the problem long before it drops that far,” she replied.
So I spent much of the morning re-insulating the offending closet with the water lines & wrapping the pipes. I feel like I’m never going to get this siding job finished.
It was a beautiful day to be outside, building a deck, with the waters of the Chena flowing by. Even the sound of joyriders buzzing up & down the river on their airboats didn’t dampen the good mood. I had the iPod plugged into the job radio shuffling along, when the cabin owner showed up to, “Clean up around the place”.
I assumed that it was her attempt to simply help out, but all she really did was slow me down with endless questions and constant attempts at chit-chat. As it stands, most of what she cleaned up, I’ll have to go over anyway, before we spray the insulation.
Recently, she has started to make several visits to the jobsite, shared her thoughts on still being single, and often mentioning “going out to dinner”, while being vague about who she expects to join her. I’m starting to sense that she has ulterior motives to showing up at my jobsite. However, I’m quite content to remain in the role of Contractor to the Broken Hearted. The pay is better.
With the iPod on shuffle, I suppose it was only a matter of time before a song played that would get a reaction. I heard the familar guitar chords and thought, “Oh oh”. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched for a reaction from the new deck.
“I have a hard time missing you baby, with my pistol in your mouth
Mmm have a hard time missing you baby, with my pistol in your mouth…”
I saw her head flip up as she tried to gauge what she heard.
“You may be thinking ’bout going north, but your brains are staying south…”
Then, from inside the cabin I hear, “What the hell are you listening to?”
Without even looking up from my tape measure I replied, “That’s why they call it The Blues, ma’am.”
We spent the past three days pushing rock and mud with a small dozer. As usual, it rained much of the time, but we managed to only get the dozer stuck once, when we pushed our luck and broke through the stable muck and into the quickmuck. The quickmuck it is what swallowed up the mammoths, so the Deere was lucky to escape with its life. Sadly, I had to sacrifice a few recently acquired birch logs to save the metal beast.
I worked both days this weekend to try to make a push on the siding job. The trim needed to get painted and the deck needed stain. Once again the weather didn’t cooperate on Saturday, as I watched the storm clouds come in while I was painting facia boards.
I did get the trim finished and a coat of stain on the deck Sunday, since the rain held off until late in the afternoon. I was dropping off a truckload of the old siding at the transfer site, when the wife of the couple I’m working for swung through to drop off her own trash and offered to buy me a beer at the local brewery.
Part of our conversation over a couple of Old 55’s:
Client: The house looks great. You really know how to polish a turd.
Me: Thanks. You’re trying to give me a compliment, right?
Client: You know what I mean.
Me: That’s not something I want to get around. Next thing you know, I’ll get a rep, then I’ll do nothing but polish turds and they won’t let me near a nice, level house.
Client: There are worse things.
Me: Well, don’t be offended or anything, but that slogan is not going on my tombstone.
Client: You want another beer?
Me: I do now.