Screen Repair

Yesterday I fixed the screen door.

For the capable do-it-yourselfers out there, a screen door repair would not even be worth mentioning. On the home improvement spectrum, it’s barely above changing a light bulb. But I’m no handyman, and any time I can do anything in that category it is a red-letter day.

It wasn’t hard to fix the screen door, really. The screen had pulled loose from the frame — no doubt because people had been pushing against the screen, rather than the metal bar, to open the door — and it just needed to be reattached. That meant removing a rubberized strip from the frame, pulling the screen taut, and reinserting the strip over the screen and into the frame to hold the screen tight. Once I figured out how the door was designed, it wasn’t hard to fix it, but I still felt a certain welling sense of pride at my small step on the path to handyman status.

The Rubicon has been crossed! Time to go buy a tool belt.

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Down To The Studs

IMG_0754When we bought our house we knew the upstairs bathroom was a do-it-yourself job and that we would have to fix it some day.  Today, that day came.  The bathroom is being stripped down to the studs, exposing the brickwork of our middle-of-the-house chimney, and then completely rebuilt from the two-by-fours up.

Because we live in a two-bathroom house, this means that, for the next two weeks, we’ll be exclusively using the shower and toilet in the downstairs bathroom.  Nothing wrong with that, right?  Not unless you’re a guy in his late 50s who typically makes at least one trip to the bathroom every night.  Until the upstairs bathroom is back on line, I’m going to have to be very careful about my fluid intake.

Tile Dysfunction

We’re strongly considering undertaking some remodeling of our upstairs bathroom.  It’s a perfectly serviceable bathroom, but it’s clearly aging — and, it’s embarrassing to admit it, but we all know that aging often is associated with tile dysfunction.

IMG_7570In this case, the regrettable case of tile dysfunction stems in part from the choice of tile made by a previous owner.  They are large tiles, beige-colored, with some ambiguous designs etched onto them.  They look vaguely like the kind of tile you’d see in a Roman bath scene in Ben Hur.  You half expect to find toga-clad Senators in there, arguing vigorously about Cicero’s most recent speech at the Forum.

In short, the tile selection might work just fine in a steam room in pre-eruption Pompeii, but it looks curiously out of place in a bathroom in a 100-year-old brick structure in German Village in Columbus, Ohio.

And then there’s the installation of the tile, which we suspect was a do-it-yourself job.  There’s nothing wrong with do-it-yourself work — hey, we’ve all seen the Lowe’s commercials featuring husband-and-wife teams happily discovering the rich rewards of putting in a beautiful new kitchen floor themselves — but sometimes DIYers cut corners in ways that professionals wouldn’t.  If you’re the proud homeowner who surveys the fruits of your labors and feels flush with the sense of accomplishment from retiling your bathroom yourself, you might overlook the signs that your work was an amateur effort.  If you’re a later owner unfettered by personal pride in the job, however, you see those little signs.

So now we’re into the bathroom remodeling zone — and if we’re going to treat that unfortunate case of tile dysfunction, shouldn’t we also do something with that vanity, and the bulky medicine cabinet with the annoying mirrored sections that you have to press in to open?  And who’d have thought there were so many different kinds of non-Roman tile to consider?

If I find myself talking about grouting for more than four hours, I’ll be sure to call my doctor.