Hammered

Well, very little report in the way of progress. I worked an 11 hour day at the day job, so I didn't really have much energy to put into the house. Boiled and stripped hardware then shellacked it a few times. Nothing too big.

I had a little time left before bedtime so I thought, "Gee, I could prep that closet door for some paint and maybe slap on a coat of primer before bed." In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best idea. However, I blame the heat gun, or at least the manufacturer of the heat gun. I mean, I don't recall seeing a warning label stating, "WARNING: Use of Heat Gun May Induce a Hypnotic Trance."

Hell, I didn't even plan to use the heat gun as I dragged the door out and tossed it up on the sawhorses. I was just going to give the door a good scuff sanding, tack-cloth it, and start painting. The chocolate-poo colored paint was holding okay, so what the hell. Why not paint over it? We have a deadline to meet, right?

Well, once I got the door up on the sawhorses, I saw there was this one long, lumpy spot on the bottom mullion and rail of the door. I couldn't figure out what it was, but the paint over it was flaking off so it would have to go. I decided to use the heat gun on the bugger, and it worked great.

I'm guessing the lump was a lot of sap that oozed out of the door over time. It boiled under the heat gun and turned into syrup (pancakes anyone?); that was a real bitch to get off, but it was manageable.

Soon, I was completely entranced by the hum of the gun, the blistering paint, and boiling sap. After a while, my eyes started burning. I thought maybe it was the heat or the fumes, but as time wore on it occurred to me that I was really tired. I've been ignoring this sensation for so many years I apparently no longer recognize the symptoms. In any case, I figured it wasn't too late yet, so pushed onward. I finally finished rendering all my pine syrup for the evening, so I decided to take a shower and crawl into bed. I was shocked to find that what had seemed liked 30 minutes was in fact closer to an hour and half. Not good.

So, I'm really tired today, and I'll probably be stuck at work late again tonight. On top of that, the zombies are clamoring for more primer and paint (20 gallons of primer used on the exterior to date in case you're curious). If I don't get it to them soon, they may start eating each other, the neighbors, or me. So, that'll blow another hour or two after work. I'll be lucky to get the laundry room door hung tonight. I can't tell, does that count as optimism?

I need to get the living room ceiling finished by early Saturday, so it looks like I'm going to be putting in some long hours Friday night.

Remember, only pussies need sleep and second gear.

Fear. Loathing. Barbecue.

Barbecue, blood, bodies, bonfires, bratwursts, chandeliers, chemical warfare, caulk, cracks, gardening, Lowe's, painting, priming, spray-foam insulation, tequila, wasps, wiring, and what-not. Pictures of the carnage will follow over the next few days. What can I say? We had pretty good weekend even if it was hot enough to make you sweat. It was definitely a lot more like late May and not late March this weekend.

One of the sure signs of a good weekend is the house was a total disaster come Sunday night. I guess we were too busy to bother picking up like we should. Actually, it was a might bit disturbing. We'd just finished watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas when I noticed the bowels of the Devil Queen pretty well look like the last hotel room they trash in the movie, not a pretty sight. All I need is a pair of sunglasses, a cigarette holder jammed between my teeth, substitute the polyurethane and stain for ether and I can become the Hunter S. Thompson of Houseblogs. Would that make this Gonzo Home Improvement?

Sunday (or was it Saturday?), we spent a few frantic hours cloistered in the breakfast nook, drinking pot after pot of coffee, and working on the The Plan. Actually, it is a fairly compact affair. Phase One starts tonight. I will attempt to sent the paint scraping endurance record by systematically dry-scraping every flake of nasty, decrepit paint off the our ceilings. The living room will be first. It will be followed by the hallway, the dining room, the rear hall, and the master bathroom ceiling. While I wait for the cramps and seizures subside, I will try to relax by boiling hardware, shellacking, and other small, must-do tinkering chores. If I am partially successful (that would be finishing the first two or three rooms on the list), will be having a "paining party" two weekends from now. The last one was such a success that we are hoping we can replicate the effect and get all the scraped rooms primed and painted. This will get us very close to meeting our bank deadline.

The spray priming (is this the home improvement equivalent of spray on tanning?) of the Devil Queen is nearing completion. We may soon have to commit to a final color selection for the exterior.

Regarding the paint job, the question of the day is, what do the neighbors think? The answer will probably have zero impact on our course of action, but we are curious folk. Ms. Scarlet and I figure that it is a toss-up between:

1) It's about bloody time they painted that piece of shit. Slackers.
2) Wow, they painted it and it still looks awful. Maybe if we're lucky it will be struck by lightning and burn to the ground.

Anyhow, we continue on our journey across the dark underbelly of the American Dream, what the hell ever that means.

Brought to a Boil

The front two rooms and the foyer are the only parts of the Devil Queen that didn't have all of their hardware stolen before we bought her. I guess they didn't have the balls to stand out in the open and strip house of all its hardware. Not that I'm complaining. The window locks and pulls are quite nice, but the hinges on the front door are the real treasure.

These buggers were covered under three coats of paint and one or two different layers of shellac. Here is a before view.


Looks pretty bad, though there is a hint of something more beneath.

I unscrewed the hinges (an ordeal in itself) and boiled them in water. I learned this trick from some of you Housebloggers some time ago, but this was my first use of it.

I ended up boiling them four times. I think if I'd left them in longer that I could have striped them faster, but I was too impatient to wait. I tried several different tools to take the loose paint off. I had the best luck with a razor blade and the handle of a metal file. For the "finish" work I used a small wire-bristle brush and a steel wool.

We are going to shellac these. My wife likes the silver sheen, so we're going to use clear shellac instead of the all-holy amber shellac. Sorry Gary.

These hinges are the ones I pulled from the door jamb. In my excitement I forgot to remove their other halves from the door. Oops. What can I say, genius happens.

Screwing Around

We're trying to recruit some family and friends to come out to the Devil Queen at the end of the month to help us paint. Since everyone is willing to paint but no one likes doing prep-work, I'm trying to get that finished up before everyone gets here. Last night I was working on my son's room, and I got sidetracked when I found my new heat-gun. I swear, I'm like a 16 year old boy with his first real girl friend with this thing. I just can't keep my hands off of it.

And, fifteen minutes later this is what I had to show for it.

I'm thinking boiled linseed oil and amber shellac.

Afterwards, I tore myself away and went back to work striping bits of canvas and nails off the walls. Once I finish, then I get to wash the walls with bleach. I can't wait.

What I really want to do is finish up so I can make it back to the laundry room. It's about ready to have the floor refinished (hand sanding, too small for a drum sander) and plumbing fixtures.