Get this. The pergola is rapidly approaching completion. (The tile in the kitchen, however, is not. But that’s another story for another day.)
So…Saturday was “Get The Roof On the Pergola” Day, which meant hauling 8 2×6’s up and down the ladder all day, and cutting 16 notches… which doesn’t seem like it should day six hours, but it did.
One down, 15 to go…
It’s getting so as I just don’t feel right if I’m not perched a dozen feet off the ground for at least half the day…
(Hey, at least we know it’s stable.)
After a whole day of this, we are…
DONE!
Late Saturday night my good friend Erin and I were seduced by the sirens call of margarita’s at the Mexican place nearby. She was telling me about how she was trying to tell another friend about my pergola but she couldn’t think of what it was called. She says “the only word I could think of was chalupa!” I’m like “as in Taco bell, do-you-want-sour-cream-with-that, chalupa?” Yes, apparently. One and a half margaritas in we found this utterly hilarious. So it’s pretty safe to say Erin will never refer to my pergola as anything other than a Chalupa from here on out.
Even with a two margarita hangover, I was out bright and early Sunday. First project of the day was deterring the constant waterfall of water that floods into the basement every time it so much as sprinkles out. This is the problem…
What you’re looking at here is the view of outside world as seen from the inside of my basement. Yeah, wonder where the water’s coming in? (These were uncovered when I had the old concrete pad removed.)
One tube of door/window/roof sealer later….
My diagnoses was that the last hundred years have taken their toll on the angle-iron here, and it has completely rusted out in places which is why the water is free to enter my humble abode as it pleases. All of this is also going to be covered by the custom wood bench I’ll get to after the patio is in. Isolated T-storms are on the schedule for every day in the next week, so we’ll see if that does the trick.
Mom took to touching up some areas that needed a little extra stain while I worked on the other lattice piece.
(Perching must be genetic.)
By the end of the day I had the second big piece of lattice completed. All that’s left is to hang it up, which is definitely a two person job, and mom had left by the time I got it done. Today, hopefully.
What that means is all that’s left for the pergola is setting on my decorative copper corners, and building the archway. I’ll be on to the masonry work next weekend!
In not-so-exciting news, there are currently two men (with about seven teeth between the both of them) hanging unstained trim in my kitchen. It kind of makes me want to kill myself because I’m going to have to stain it once it’s already on the white walls. Does that sound like fun? No. No it does not. But it will be finished so it’s hard to complain. (Kind of.) Actually, to be perfectly honest, I wish these men were anywhere else in the world than at my house right now, but I’m trying to keep a positive outlook. I’ve had nothing but misery when someone other than myself does work on my house. One of these idiots saw my wood in the driveway and asked if I was building a playhouse for kids. I jabbed my finger towards the pergola and said “No, I built that.” I’m going to have this sinking feeling in my chest all day until I see what kind of havoc they’ve wreaked on my kitchen. There will probably be some tears involved and my father and I will get in a huge fight because even though he comes over to my house maybe once ever two months, the idea that the trim isn’t up the in kitchen pisses him off, and that’s why I have two men who wreak of alcohol and condescension doing whateverthehell they want to my house right now.
Actually, I’m getting kind of pissed off the more I talk about it, so I’m going to try an think happy thoughts about my pergola/chalupa instead.
Hey, at least it was a productive weekend, right?
EDIT: Okay, I just couldn’t take it… ran home at lunch and was like, “guys thank you so much, but can you please just cut the baseboard and not attach it, because I do not want to stain it when it’s on the wall.” Luckily they had only done the door frame, which was half stained anyway, and the toe-kick, which was already finished. Whew. I can exhale now.
JUMP TO PART IX of The Pergola Saga- Digger of Trenches
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