Like all major decisions, my kitchen misadventure began with a discussion between my Mylar balloons and me. A contractor who’d done work for me before called to see if I had any upcoming projects. I said I contemplated replacing the flooring and that I’d get back to him.
“What are you waiting for?” the butterfly, the spokesperson for the balloons, asked. “The tiles you have now look like someone threw up.”
To which I responded with a glare: “Thank you for sharing!”
The balloon giggled. “I’m always happy to help.”
After the phone call, I received a proposal, which I gave to my homeowners’ association. They approved it. I cleared my knickknacks and rolled the table out of the kitchen, anticipating completion in two days at the most.
That was not what happened.
On day one, the contractor (I’ll call him Buddy) pulled up the old tiles, and lo and behold, he found holes in the subfloor. I called the homeowners’ maintenance worker, who said that the subfloor needed replacing due to a heater leak (now fixed). This meant I had to remove all the contents from my cabinet, as that had to come apart. The workers replaced the subfloor, and retiling the floor was rescheduled for the following week. I had limited use of the kitchen—I could do laundry and make coffee, but I got some takeout meals that week. Fantasies of butterflies and other balloon shapes danced before me, but the 100-degree weather prohibited such purchases.
The maintenance people from the HOA were understanding. They have a sense of humor, which helps. Buddy returned as scheduled, and the new tiles were laid without a hitch. In the process, I learned that the buffet needs replacing. That will have to wait. The cleanup followed, including a visit from my exterminator. The front door opens and shuts during such projects, which invites ants and fruit flies. Things are back to normal, and we now have balloon-worthy weather.
My takeaway? In many ways, home upgrades are like writing a book. You might envision beauty, but surprises will happen along the way; upgrades and book projects always take longer than you estimate. Especially in Lyn McConchie’s Forever Cornwall, where people rebuild communities after an apocalypse. No quick run to the local Home Depot in this book, but even in everyday life, you can expect a few messes, even false starts. You should order takeout, or with major refurbishes, prepare to rent a hotel room. In my case, the finished project made the job worth the hassles at the end of the day. Now it’s off to the CVS for more Mylar balloons.
