Living in cramped quarters for a spell—for a good reason

                                        Dogwood blooms open late in Eureka Springs - PL

No, we didn’t go camping and sleep in a tent, eat on a picnic table, use nearby shower facilities. Nor were we relegated to the bedrooms, bathroom, and hall as when a crew refreshed the hardwood floors in June a few years back. Access to that area was by climbing or crawling into a bedroom window. This time, we could get in the house via the side and back doors.

The living room ceiling of vintage, textured plaster was being torn out because a large chunk of it had fallen many years ago, and there was a crack that would eventually succumb to gravity. After all, it was 84-year-old material. After the chunk fell, and before our California in-law came to visit sometime during the ‘70s, Dad attached 1 x 4s to the rectangular ceiling, then stapled acoustic tile to the boards. Thus, he hid the deteriorating plaster.

A couple of rainy spells after I’d lived here for some years, those tiles began falling, too. “Humidity,” the research said. After the second batch fell, I decided to clear all of those squares out, thus re-visiting the green plaster.

But how to deal with the large, odd-shaped hole, while figuring out the resolution to the larger problem? Ingenuity, of course. Using spray adhesive, bubble wrap folded between boards, glued, and painted green turned out to be the ugliest possible solution. So much for ingenuity. Fall back and punt. As teachers learned to say and do when plans didn’t work out: “monitor and adjust.”

I had a green, round cloth for a 3-legged table, and push pins, Rhonda Roberts’ CAW gift back a ways. By gluing first, pinning second, I covered the gaping hole. So what if it sagged a tad in the middle? It was too high for anyone to touch if walking under it. The bare boards stayed bare and the green plaster showed through.

It stayed like that until I was in contact again with B. B., Inc. who had replaced a similar ceiling in the smaller office/ Blue Room that Mom called “the sunroom.”

Jordy was assigned the project. He contracted with David and his team for the work, and they began early on a Monday morning. Billy and his friend Taylor had moved the furniture—sofas, bookcases, piano, coffee table, lamp table—the night before. I took all the stuff out of the windows, and off the mantel, moved the African violets to the Green Room in the back, swept and dusted.

Long story short(er), while I was gone, the 4-person team finished their work Friday morning--new sheetrock ceiling with orange-peel texture. The fan and lights were back up, but the lights didn’t work, unused boards were abandoned in the yard, nails left on the porch in a planter I use as a foot stool. Trash decorated the yard, whitewash was emptied in the flowerbeds and on the sidewalk, rags and a take-out coffee container were left on the porch.  Jordy will come Monday to sign off on the work, then Albert will come for the last half of the money.

Next project: while the furniture is out, I’ve contacted Jeff to see if he will paint the paneling, the window frames, and the built-in bookcases.

Newly refinished floors, new ceiling, new paint on the walls? All that’s left is to buy new windows with thicker glass.

I wonder what the old furniture will look like in such a sparkling setting?