But it is a new year, and with that comes my annual resolution to post more. In the interests of fairness, I should probably also mention that my OTHER new years resolution is to stop taking sugar in my coffee, and 2013 will be the ninth year in a row I've made that one. Don't get your hopes up TOO much, is what I'm saying.
Anyway, to try and start off the new year right, and to cheer Amy up after we noticed the dents in our floor, I got started with some much needed exploratory surgery on this year's major project: the master bedroom ensuite. Or, as my friend insists on calling it (rightly so): the Ba'ath Bath.
Before we could even draw up a plan or start to think about the budget for this project, we had to find out exactly what we were dealing with. You see, there's a rather large shelf jutting out from the back wall of the bathroom. I'm pretty sure this was installed because they weren't using a free-standing tub (and the strange little jut out in the wall on the one side would confirm this). We, of course, really wanted to install a clawfoot tub in there and without knowing what was under the shelf, we didn't know if the clawfoot would fit.
So with the War Department supervising from a distance (stupid flu), I grabbed a few tools and whatnot, and prepared to figure out what was under the shelf.
Oh, I should also probably mention at this point that the gold taps that make the bath ... uh, well, that make it Ba'ath, if you know what I mean, weren't original to the house. They were installed well afterwards by none other than Frank himself - or his handyman. And yes, we're pretty sure it was him. Why? Oh, you'll like this, I promise you.
So here's a shot of the shower from way back that shows what I mean about the shelf jutting out:
One of the first things we'll need to do is replace the windows, and unless the wall underneath the windows goes all the way to the floor, there's no way we're getting a clawfoot in there, and we'll have to replace the windows with something that can handle being part of a shower stall. (Sort of like what those windows SHOULD have been in the first place, but the house was built in the 80s and hey - life was simpler then. More neon, sure, but simpler.)
Anyway, if you look closely at that picture, you can see the shelf, the taps, and the obviously different tiles they used to cover up the hole they had to make when they hooked up the new taps. Think about that for a minute though: Frank wanted these taps SO badly, he was so convinced that they'd dress up his bathroom so much, that he was willing to put in any old crappy ass tiles he had lying around to fix the hole he'd have to make. I just... gah. Oh, and keep in mind that there's also a huge, obvious patch in the family room ceiling where they had to cut a hole to access the drain and put in the matching tub plug.
Anyway, I grabbed a hammer and cold chisel (because I didn't have a grout blade for my hand-held flush cutter), and popped off the four mis-matched tiles. Naturally, they came off pretty easy because who ever installed them didn't actually use grout between the tiles. After all, why would they, when they can use....
This Week In Mayonnaise
Just when I think I've seen every possible use for the stuff, I get this:
I don't even...
Man, that's like a clinic on how NOT to tile, isn't it? Mis-matched tiles (seriously, not even TRYING to make those close - the only thing they have in common with the existing ones is the size), mayonnaise instead of grout, grey thinset under white tiles, no back-buttering, not enough water in the mix... man, I could tile better than that, and I've only done it twice.
Anyway, ten minutes with the drill (seven of which was going back downstairs twice for an extra battery and then a different drill) got the plywood patch off, and we could see underneath the shelf:
Inside the hole... well, it's hard to see, but it's actually good news:
That's good, solid subfloor, all the way to the wall. Looks like we'll be getting our clawfoot! Mind you, that's many months down the road, and so to keep the cats and their mistress happy, I fixed up a plywood patch to go over the hole:
Now the War Department can have her baths, and the kitties can sit on the ledges and drink the bath water she deigns to dribble on the sides of the tub for them.
Well, what did you THINK she did with it? If we're going to have a bath fit for the Queen of Sheba, she's going to damn well act like it!
