We Did It - Construction Column #5 - Spring 2019
“Daddy, can we have friends over now or is our house still too dangerous?” Jane, our 7-year-old asks.
“It’s totally safe,” Michael argues. “It’s been like a month since I got a splinter.”
“Wait a minute,” Wifey interjects. “When are we going to stop walking past that chop saw on the way to the bathroom?”
“OK, OK, it’s time for friends again. I’ll hide my tools,” I respond. “Promise.”
It’s funny when it comes to your house. There is no definitive “finish line” and I’ll still be tinkering with odds and ends for years to come, but it’s basically over. We are safe for public consumption, birthday parties, and a return to some degree of normalcy. We did it.
We’ve passed our final inspection. Our home is officially built and we are enjoying those spaces that we’ve been dreaming about for so many years.
Admittedly, there were times over the past year of construction, when I doubted the sanity of the gargantuan project we undertook. Now that we’ve arrived at our destination however, those unpleasant memories of breathing in wood dust, of frozen mornings and metal tools, of insulation fibers in my forearms and blood blisters on my fingers from my poor hammer aim, of snow on our living room floor and water leaking through tarps and into our ceilings; now all of that aggravation and pain feel worth it.
Now, we have a finished thing that we can love for the rest of our lives.
Now, we have a place that is truly and uniquely ours. As our primary general contractor, Josh Bruner, without whom none of this would have been possible, told me on more than one occasion, “Your DNA is all over this place.”
Yeah, it is. Our family and friends helped everywhere and with everything. Our DNA is apparent in the stain handprints from our kids, purposefully sealed onto our siding. You can see it in little imperfections like the few bubbles in the epoxy fill on our crazy wine cork backsplash or the symmetry of the grout lines in the kiddos bathroom where Jane really took charge of the tile job.
“You’re really getting good at this, Jane.” I tell her.
“I like tiling. It’s like a puzzle, but you get to cut the pieces,” Jane looks at me with wide eyes as she blindly smushes another liner piece into the wall mortar.
“Beautiful,” I smile back at her.
The general feedback on our new home is overwhelmingly positive. People appreciate how different it is. Our neighbors dubbed it “The Half Dome House” which we kind of like and have been encouraging. But many who look at what we’ve created aren’t quite sure how to categorize it.
One of Wifey’s more ornery students said, “Oh, that’s your house. Why the different colors and metal siding up high? It looks like your ran out of wood and put your fence on your roof.”
Another visitor, when he saw some of our fun interior modifications in the kids’ rooms and swing at the kitchen booth said, “I get it. So, you obviously don’t care about resale value.”
Even one building department inspector walked around during a framing inspection and looked at how we organized bedrooms and said “Man, this is one cut-up floor plan.”
I love these head-scratching observations and half-criticism, because I see them as an indication that we’ve done something right. Rather than allowing conventional wisdom and building norms to dictate our choices, we designed and built what we really honestly wanted.
It’s weird, but so are we.
And building all that weirdness was easy with Meeks. Before this project, I would hear contractors and neighbors lament about Meeks: the pricing, the lack of selection, and the quality of wood in the yard. But honestly, we don’t know how good we’ve got it.
Meeks is amazing. When compared to doing the grocery-cart shuffle at the big orange or blue box (Home Depot or Lowes), Meeks kicks tail every day. Being able to drive into the yard, wave over at Doug on the forklift, and have him raise material for me to drop on my lumber rack probably saved at least 40 hours over the course of the project. And their pricing is spot on. I shopped out numerous items and found Meeks to be the same or even better on bulk purchases. Dave in the office literally took apart and fixed my tool gun right in front of me and every single person in there from Jimmy in the yard to Jose in Contractor Sales is actually knowledgeable about construction and even friendly when you have questions. I challenge you to try to find those two characteristics in any employee at Home Depot.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t also say that Scotty’s True Value at the Y saved my butt many times at odd hours and with odd requests like how to hook up German plumbing fixtures. Roy with Azul Electric put up with all of our strange lighting locations and reused fixtures. Riley Plumbing and Tino Lomeli with Floor Coverings International were also instrumental in our project’s success. Sierra Sustainable Builders helped with much needed knowledge and recycled material. Fergusson Plumbing and South Y Fireplace were able to source and diagnose some of the more peculiar items we needed. The South Tahoe Refuse and Recycling Center has been awesome. And so many friends and neighbors stopped by to help. We even were able to borrow a paint sprayer from Blue Granite Climbing Gym, when Giana and Brad Leavers saw Wifey covered in paint and looking totally beat after a day of rolling out the garage. We really feel lucky as a family and grateful to everyone who contributed to our project.
“That was quite a party,” Wifey exclaims while collapsing on the couch. “I almost forgot what 20 kids running around and shrieking with joy sounds like.”
“The house did well.” I respond. “The climbing wall was a hit.”
“Totally.”
“When is the next party?” Jane interjects herself into our conversation.
“Soon,” I respond. “I think we’ll be having people over more often.”
“Yeah,” Michael comes in. “The nail guns were fun, but I’m glad all the scary saws are locked up.”
“Me too, Buddy.”