Well, hell.
Damn mudroom. Damn painting. I knew it would become a remodeling job! I knew it!
I couldn't stand to just slap paint on over the foundation wall and hope for the best. It leaks. It's a problem. There's mildew and algae and water damage. I had to strip the existing coating so I could fill the cracks with hydraulic cement.
Two buckets of stripper later, I discover one of those stupid "homeowner-quality" jobs hidden under the epoxy, requiring the pouring of a new footing not only to prevent seepage in a rainy climate, but to shore up the damn foundation of the damn house!
So, 120 lbs of concrete being the bare minimum to do the job, I borrowed one of the working cars in the family--my former 23-year-old Honda Civic which is now my sister's--to go get it at the corner hardware store. While I was there with a car, I thought, hey, might as well get that box fan and those two on-sale garden chairs I've been needing.
The chairs don't fit in the Honda. So I drive the concrete home, then put on real shoes and walk back to the hardware store.
One thing about walking nine blocks in the heat with two stacking chairs on your head is that when you get tired, you have a place to sit and rest. Which I did, on the sidewalk in the shade about halfway home. I waved at the passers-by and pretended I belonged there. In my stacking chairs, in the shade.
Next? Actual excavation--albeit small excavation--under the foundation wall. Gah! I'm getting tired!
Crossposted from Dreamwidth, where there are
comments. | Comment at Dreamwidth.
I couldn't stand to just slap paint on over the foundation wall and hope for the best. It leaks. It's a problem. There's mildew and algae and water damage. I had to strip the existing coating so I could fill the cracks with hydraulic cement.
Two buckets of stripper later, I discover one of those stupid "homeowner-quality" jobs hidden under the epoxy, requiring the pouring of a new footing not only to prevent seepage in a rainy climate, but to shore up the damn foundation of the damn house!
So, 120 lbs of concrete being the bare minimum to do the job, I borrowed one of the working cars in the family--my former 23-year-old Honda Civic which is now my sister's--to go get it at the corner hardware store. While I was there with a car, I thought, hey, might as well get that box fan and those two on-sale garden chairs I've been needing.
The chairs don't fit in the Honda. So I drive the concrete home, then put on real shoes and walk back to the hardware store.
One thing about walking nine blocks in the heat with two stacking chairs on your head is that when you get tired, you have a place to sit and rest. Which I did, on the sidewalk in the shade about halfway home. I waved at the passers-by and pretended I belonged there. In my stacking chairs, in the shade.
Next? Actual excavation--albeit small excavation--under the foundation wall. Gah! I'm getting tired!
Crossposted from Dreamwidth, where there are
comments. | Comment at Dreamwidth.