Men in Small Spaces and the Rush to Flush
We got sink!
After about a month without an operable kitchen, we now can wash our dishes in the kitchen instead of the bathtub. We can fill up pots, toss out gray water and even access tap water that isn't within 12 inches of a toilet. (There's something about drinking bathroom water that just seems wrong; I don't know why.)
And after 15 years of sharing a miniature bathroom, Lori and I now have two full bathrooms and a powder room--all operational. The only thing that doesn't yet work is the "washlet" unit on the master bathroom, a sort of faux bidet addition, that won't work until our electricians finish wiring the outlets. Oh, and there aren't any lights yet, or mirrors. We can live with that.
I was surprised today when the Banks-based Malmedal plumbers Justin and Zach arrived since snow and ice had deterred them yesterday (We'd been expecting Oliver the positive plumber, but he was tied up with another job.) I'd just resigned myself to another waterless weekend when they arrived, shortly after Marc Leriche the finish carpenter.
It was, as Martha says, a good thing.
I took photos of the Malmedal men while they were putting together the toilets in my office space because I figured that would be the ONLY time I'd ever have toilets in that room, making it memorable.
Unlike many, they also actually read the installation directions, too.
Justin and Zach seemed shy, but they said they didn't mind me taking photos. At least not until I caught them both in a truly memorable "pose" in the new powder room. In a room not much bigger than a pedestal sink and toilet, the plaid-shirt clad Zach was lying sprawled on the floor with his head under the sink, face up. Justin was straddling Zach's legs and was slightly hunched over, trying to look at something under the sink with a flashlight.
It was a George Michael moment, I chuckled to myself.
"Now that," I said aloud, "is the true photo opportunity." Justin looked a bit pained at the thought, although it might have been his discomfort with his contortions. (Note: Tempting as it was, I didn't take any photos right then; they hadn't yet turned the water back on at that point and I certainly didn't want to upset them.)
Upstairs carpenter Marc, aka "the Closer," was spending his time in another small room--our master closet--putting in tons of shelves and clothing rails. He'd finished the kitchen pantry yesterday, except for a possibility I'd discussed with him about adding special racking for 2-liter soda bottles. That was the first time, Marc said, that anybody had ever asked for that.
Lori had to try out the kitchen sink the moment she got home from work. A little bit later, she tried out the powder room after I'd laid claim to our pre-existing bathroom. Neither of us had to rush to flush.
Now that, I think, is a REALLY good thing.