So the hubs got the bug and was making headway with the rathskeller makeover. Keep in mind that everything on this post happened within 2 days.
The hubs asked me to help him relocate the ginormous pile of drywall to another “room” in the basement. I said I’d help but I didn’t really want to; I’d already failed helping him get a piece on the drywall lift. But when I walked downstairs, I saw the drywall fairies visited and not only moved the entire stack but put up the few remaining pieces on the wall! No more concrete and studs but now A Room.
I’d like to confess that while I dreaded moving drywall, I did help mud. I didn’t do a fantastic job and it felt as though my left arm would grow freakishly large like Popeye’s after holding the heavy mud-pan, but I helped.
Mike had to play with his new prized possession (for the moment) after completing the walls: a projector.
I was hesitant (like I am with all of the Great Ideas the man comes up with) but I was pleasantly surprised when we turned it on because it looked like this:
This wall is not painted and it looked glorious. Planet Earth on BluRay looks glorious everywhere but seeing it in 106″ was like being in a dream. And then I prayed: Dear God, it’s me, Brooke. Please let UofL have a better football season. Please? I promise to put the dishes in the dishwasher everyday if you do this one thing for me.
Over the next couple days, the hubs proceeded to sand every flat surface in The Room and in turn covered every other surface in the basement with drywall dust. It was icky. And it didn’t all stay in le caveau.
The Reverend (affectionately called Rev) came over to do man work and helped the hubs wipe down walls and prime. And I’m glad Rev did come because he’s a heck of a painter (Mike, not so much…you should have seen his hands) and made it move really fast.
The only drawback: Rev Radio. I have Brooke Radio where I sing songs that just pop into my head. But Rev Radio has songs that you can’t get out of your head. Like Rock the Boat, Sweet Caroline, Purple Rain. But when he left, The Room looked like this:
It still needs some TLC and extra mud but we are on our way to having extra partying living space, people. I’m amazed by the hubs hard work, the Handy He-Man that he is. So after it dried, we had to test the prized possession again.
Did you hear the angels sing too? I cannot WAIT to use this bad dog for movie nights, game nights, UFC nights…it’s going to be effing awesome. So hear me now, Kragthorpe: put out or get out. For reals.
Update: For those of you who partook in RockBand at our 4th of July party know that Mike has since set up the screen and painted the walls with color. I refuse to post pictures of that because it’s coming down so that we can finish making the walls look better. But it served its purpose so that we could completely rock out with plastic wanna-be-instruments.
Last night we had a company outing at the Bats (Minor League) game. And though it was raining, I think we were all prepared to have good time and try to do everything BUT talk about work. It was Thirsty Thursday so the brews were cheap and I had a great time talking with the people I never get to work on project with. It started out good. Really good, in fact.
But then it went bad. For me at least. I was obviously aware of the rain and I understand that when things get wet they have the tendency to get slick. And I was also aware that the concrete floors at the stadium change when you walk under a roofed area (they’re a smoother, finished concrete floor). I was even aware of the bright yellow CAUTION: WET FLOOR signs. But I did not anticipate lying flat on my back, tears welling up in my eyes while people’s faces started popping into my line of vision. Yep. I slipped. Just like a cartoon character on a banana peel.
A kind lady stepped right over and said “You hit your head, EMS will come to you.” And then proceeded to yell over her shoulder that the stadium should really make this safer because 30 seconds before a lady holding a child had slipped. A LADY HOLDING A CHILD!?!? And these people are helping me!?!? Go help that lady with the kid!! My HR ended seeing it (me) all go down and EMS was very nice. When I couldn’t find their badges on their shirts I asked “Are you with Metro or Yellow?” Habit [I guess] from having a best friend who’s a paramedic. They were Yellow, not that you care.
So after I realized that I banged my noggin, I wept (it hurt, dude!), I apologized for whatever reason there was to apologize for, kept on apologizing for being a pussy (hope that doesn’t land me in sensitivity training since I said it to HR) and got an icepack to keep the swelling down. Hitting your head SUCKS; I’ve wiped on my tookus several times but never have I fallen like that before. Boo to wet concrete. Boo to the knot on my head. Boo to the new contusion I discovered on my back this morning. Boo to my stiff neck from sleeping in the most awkward position to keep the icepack on my head. Boo to me acting retarded and asking the hubs if I was going to die (true story). Boo to the Bats for losing after the fact.
So I feel the need to apologize for making a ruckus and whimpering and being a buzz-kill. I’m truly sorry that I’m a pussy. (But hey, I’m girl, I’m allowed to cry when I have the knot the size of Minnesota on my head.) Thank you EMT Lloyd for letting me hold on to your shirt while I caught my balance. Thank you EMS lady who wasn’t wearing a name tag that gave me an icepack. And thank you Captain in the EMS station for making me laugh and telling me to hang out with you instead of my friends.
And if you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t think I’ll ever go to a Bats game when it’s raining ever again. Me and wet concrete are NOT friends.
We love having people over and I like to think that people love coming over. So in an attempt to make our partying living space larger, the hubs began Project Basement at the end of 2008. And then he stalled it for 5 months and it wasn’t because it’s cold in the basement. Home improvements can get to the best of us sometimes. But June rolled around and he caught the basement bug and things began to change. Fast.
At the beginning of June, Mike went from having 6 pieces of drywall hung to something like 25… in 2 days. Bob the Builder returned, folks! This is when I decided I had to start documenting the changes because he was on a roll.
And though it doesn’t look like much right now, a small media area and a bar are in the works. Alan, I know you recommend drawing our plans in Autocad but sometimes when the bug bites, you just have to go with the flow!
Fast forward about a week and the man has built a bar. I really think it will end up being a great bar because Mike found some beautiful birch for the bar top. Sorry to disappoint, Flannigan’s, but we plan to belly up to this bar.
Fast forward a few more days and WHAM! there’s a wall behind the bar. Time travel another week and BOOM! there’s drywall on almost every surface! I don’t know how the hubs did it, but he was a machine. I heart my engineer.
Our dungeon turned into a room in a matter of 2½ weeks. The hubs has done a fantastic job and I’m impressed with all of the work he’s done. *tear*
Tomorrow I plan to post the remaining pictures I have of our extreme makeover and then it’s just updating when the rathskeller changes. So y’all come back, ya hear.
To blog or not to blog. That has been the question. While I’m intrigued with the idea of putting my thoughts into words and displaying them on the world wide web there’s still something uncomfortable about it. But I’m putting fear aside. For now.
Mike, the hubs, got me the most excellent gift two years ago for Christmas: my Canon RebelXT. And though photography is challenging, boy is it fun! I’m just hobbyist, a shutterbug, but when you get one awesome shot you can’t help but stare at it. But in the digital age we live in, actually printing photos doesn’t happen often so I’m forced to share my photos via interweb. And therein lies the issue. I post on Facebook because I have several friends I like to share with. But then Facebook freaks me out with all of the “we have rights to your photos” verbiage that’s been flying around. And then I post to Snapfish so that I can e-mail them to non-Facebookers. Two sites with SEVERAL albums. And I can’t find crock when sorting through them.
So a blog seemed logical: one site with my favorite photos and the stories that accompany them. If my friends or my family want to view them, they’ll check in periodically. I won’t have to “share” anything because it’s all right here at their fingertips. And the world wide web’s fingertips. *shutter* But this also allows me tap into my unknown writing skills. This could get interesting… or not.
We’ll see how this experiment goes. I’m hoping my hypothesis is correct. But time will tell. Let’s just hope that we can put up with me.
Leave A Comment