the agents of moxie :: at home

It's nearly official . . . We've Moved!

2010-03-07T11:57:00.001-05:00

Please visit, comment, contribute maybe, but definitely visit -- http://blog.buildingmoxie.com.
Thank you Blogger . . . we'll meet again soon . . . maybe.

Sharp Edges :: Installing Window & Door Cap

2009-11-11T09:15:00.049-05:00

One of the biggest challenges with saving the original siding on an 1889 farmhouse (well, other than dealing with 13 decades of paint) is ensuring against water entry at the windows and doors.

Our clapboard, where it was protected, has held up nicely to the elements through the years. I would suggest that in some places the old-growth, heartwood fir looks as good as the day it was installed.

When it was installed, however, I must assume easily workable sheet metal was not widely in use. Building today, we "flash" above and/or around all window and door openings, usually with aluminum sheet goods.

Aluminum, in coil stock or other form, is highly workable, completely resistant to water, and more often than not comes from recycled material. You can feel comfortable that it is a great choice for flashing applications.

Back in the day

Back in the day, and on my house, the builder, a “self-builder” as they might call it in England, topped all window trim with a cap. This cap, similar to what you would see in an Arts and Crafts-style interior trim build-up, was purposefully sloped away from the house as to shed water. (Hopefully, the picture shows this.)

Today, windows installed with new construction (aptly called new construction windows) receive a z-flashing (named for its shape) prior to the application of the structure's finished cladding (or siding). On my house, at some point in its life, coil stock had been bent (or broke) on-site and was applied to this window cap. (Again, hopefully, the pictures will show.)

While this type of application was certainly practical, aesthetically I had issues with it.

Especially given what you know about me (and my distaste for poorly painted metal), it had to go. As I have been working my way around the house, addressing paint issues, I have also been working to implement a more modern flashing solution.

Retro-fitting flashing

While I have been around houses, and am sometimes known to do “restoration” work, I do not own a brake (see the Moxie Mouth at right for a definition). This device, and you have likely seen one, is used to brake or bend sheet metal for flashing, and other exterior, installations. While I would love to one day own one, for this project – I wanted to avoid having to purchase, rent, or borrow one. So I looked elsewhere.

Most home centers and lumber yards stock a select set of aluminum edging profiles. I will admit again, I don’t always have time to do as much legwork as I would like. For example, when I did work around the windows in the back ell of the house last summer – I had difficulty finding a profile that would work with my trim set-up. In that case, and at the time I thought rather ingeniously, I grabbed a roofing eave edge (for the raking ends of a shingling installation), flipped it over, and made it work.

I wish I would have spotted Amerimax’s Window and Door cap back then. As the pics will hopefully show, it seems that this stuff was designed with my house in mind, and it worked excellently for the windows on the front of house.

Installing

Again, I never claim to be a craftsman or a home improvement expert, but I would like to provide the procedure I used for installing . . . .

One of my biggest priorities was trying to get lap (that is, coverage) at the ends of the window cap – and this proves to be the most difficult part of this installation. (I did take pics at each step of the work, but . . . truthfully they did not turn out great. I will not post them here, but I will email them to anyone who asks.)

Oh yeah -- when working with sheet metal, watch out for sharp edges!

The procedure –

1. I measured the length of the first window cap. Warning: I learned long ago, and especially with old houses, not to gang cut any elements intended for the windows. Usually, there are a few factions of an inch of difference one to the next. I added one inch to the measurement here, to allow for a ½ inch fold at each end.

2. I cut the cap to length using my miter saw. I almost always do this. Loaded with a good carbide blade, cuts on sheet metal work out well (though a slight rough edge is sometimes left).

3. Work on the flashing itself started by marking for the set- back. To do this, I used the combination of a speed and a small carpenter’s square. (For marking the opposite end, I held it in place on the cap later -- marking it there.)

4. I then made two short cuts, using aviator snips, first at the rear where the flashing begins its slope upwards, and at the front where the cascade begins its fold over. I then made another short cut at the “lip” in line with my marking. I finished this with a notch cut where the slope intersects the flashing's “deck."

5. I worked my “flap” upwards slightly with my fingers, I trimmed the “ear”, and then took the lip that was now free and folded it almost a full 180 degrees back on itself. This allowed me to then fit my hand brake in.

6. Enter the hand seamer – a great tool made by Wiss/Cooper Tools! I started shifted forward – and on the working line, I bent my flap upwards to 90 degrees. Then I “broke” the flap downwards. I had to reset the tool by shifting it to the back of the profile midway through the bend. (This was a simple matter of physics – the hand seamer I was working with was a little too large for the profile, but it worked nonetheless.)

7. Now with a fully shaped flashing in hand – I placed it into a bead of caulk at the top of the window cap. Using stainless steel trim nails from Maze Nails, I fastened the flashing at five points from above. (Obviously – I don’t love creating the additional penetrations on a horizontal surface, and it is debatable if I could have just “glued” the piece into place – for me, though, I later dabbed all nail heads with a glob of silicone caulk. And I was happy.)

8. While I used an "elastamastic" on the rear, here, I chose instead a 100% clear window/door silicone to seal the flashing at the point where it meets the house. In these applications, I choose not to finish, or swipe, the bead as I feel it allows the bead to hold up longer under the stresses of expansion and contraction.

Anyway – this is how I did it. I would love to hear what you might have done differently.

Lessons Learned – Rusty tools are the devil & never snap your pictures on the first item you do in a set. Work only gets better as you get into a rhythm.

Thanks for reading and BMoxie BMore!

More Moxie:

Amerimax aluminum products (I believe): http://www.amerimax.com/default.asp

Wiss metal working hand tools: http://www.cooperhandtools.com/brands/wiss/index.cfm

Stainless steel aluminum trim nails: http://www.mazenails.com/

if there is such a thing as a personal hell - mine would be filled with poorly painted hardware

2009-09-23T13:37:00.059-04:00

click here for the last

Copper & Aluminum (Elemental Building Products)
(aka -- part 3 and that's it for me)

When I left off, I was amped because I had found a way to incorporate a common household product into a home improvement task. Yes, the Reynold’s Wrap I had grabbed slyly from the kitchen counter worked very nicely as a light abrasive on my now rust-free shutter hinges.

Later that same day -- I employed more aluminum foil (freshly ripped from the box) as surface protection for my field-stoned front stoop. It worked very nicely as I fitted it around my column feet. By keeping it slightly long and folding it over the ends of the "deck" – its fit to the contour of the stone actually gave it its bite/hold. Then, I re-used it.

Now, as I think of the alternatives, it was actually a time saver. No plastic, or tape to deal with. No awkwardly folded drop cloth to fight. It just worked -- in this situation.

But, you know, this got me thinking – What else could I possibly use Reynold’s Wrap for, and is aluminum foil actually a “toolbox essential?”

Cu . . . rses!

As I have been detailing, I am working on “fixing” the paint on the front of my house. And probably from reading the title on these posts, you might guess that I have a distaste for the ill-advised painting of hardware/metal.

And here lies yet another point in this case: The pseudo-step flashing found at the intersection of my portico’s roof & the house proper. As I found it -- that is, when we bought the house, it had a nice glazing of pale yellow paint on it. . . . Expertly done, and this paint was performing nicely.

At the time, I guess, no one knew that there was actually copper under there. That said, I don't blame our house painter who had no problem just running a brush right over it . . . again.

Curses!

Copper in context

I mean – OK I understand the aesthetic reasons, and yes if anyone heralds the "sealing" value of paint, it’s me – but come on. It is copper flashing! You don't need to paint it.

Sure, copper cannot currently be found on any other part my house. I have removed the once present 3” copper downspouts (which were also painted). This flashing does still fit, though, with the beautifully patina-ed steeples found on the elementary school across the street from us.

OK, maybe a stretch, here, but the fact is -- there are few building products that are, well, so elemental. Copper, though a finite resource, lasts -- and it is effectively recyclable. It has been used from ancient times on exteriors. And it has even done a pretty excellent job of carrying, what, water around many, many a house.

Copper in its newly installed form is beautiful. Copper in its weathered and oxidized form is beautiful. (It's ironic really I have heard that copper's patina, or verdigris, actually adds protection, against corrosion, to the metal.)

Reynold's Wrap is a little bit like coil stock

I knew going in, and having had some experience working with the removal of paint from metal – my trusted heat gun would not work quite as effectively as it does on wood surfaces. (Is this because of metals' conductive properties?)

But I tried it; I "burned" for a bit. The slight wave of the installed sheet material was unfortunately making it difficult to remove the paint without digging into its surface.

A little time like that and I, ultimately, opted for some chemical paint stripper. But wait – there would be a problem here. How was I going to protect the surface of the asphalt shingles I want to save, at least, for now? Hmm . . . coil stock . . . ?

Yes, and that is kinda what it is. The Reynold’s Wrap – a light-gauge coil stock. OK, again maybe I am stretching here, but you see where I am going. An excessive application of paint stripper would certainly break down the shingles' granulated surface.

So I stretched it out along the edge of the roofline at the house. (You can see this in the picture above.) Again, it's workability allowed me to fold it up and under the roof's edge. The aluminum foil holding tight -- I brushed on the stripper . . . 30 minutes, and we will see what it does.

Getting a little cocky

As usual -- I was bouncing back and forth that day; cutting caulk at trim boards, a little light sanding, and then I thought, "Do you think that balled up RW that worked so well on my shutter hinges would work now . . . for removing softened paint?" Hmmm . . .

I would try. And on this, I will not hold you in suspense . . . It didn't quite work. Ultimately, to remove the paint -- rags and two grades of steel wool. First, a #2, and then, a #00 (spoken as double aught).

This still left me slivers of paint on the surface -- but this day, I could live with that.

Curses!

Cleaning the brushes (aka righting the wrongs)

What is his point with all of this? -- you might be asking. My point is . . . there was a time when home improvements, especially when performed by under-informed home owners, often involved applying paint where it simply doesn't belong.

Today, we, as defenders of the earth and the keepers of the architectural past, are left to clean up these mistakes -- to right the wrongs, if you will.

And to do that, sometimes we must think "outside the box".

So . . . to answer that question -- Is Reynold's Wrap a toolbox essential? Maybe or maybe not. But it certainly does help every now and then when you need to improvise in a pinch, and when you want to use something readily re-usable.

Thank you for Reading & BMoxie BMore!

More Moxie:

A cool resource focusing on copper I was recently turned onto -- Copper.org: http://www.copper.org/

Outstanding information about flashing from Twitter friend's Old House Web: http://www.oldhouseweb.com/how-to-advice/roof-flashing-details.shtml

& Of Course -- Reynold's Wrap: http://www.reynoldspkg.com/reynoldskitchens/en/home.asp

if there is such a thing as a personal hell - mine would be filled with poorly painted hinges

2009-09-16T09:55:00.042-04:00

click here for the last

Part 2 of few (aka Rust Never Sleeps)

No . . . this isn’t the first time I have tackled rusty hardware. Sure, probably like a few of you, I have worked rusty hinges with either steel wool and/or sandpaper. In extreme cases, I have even loaded up my detail sander, and went at it that way.

There are a few logistical problems with these methods however. First, if you are working with small parts, such as window latches – it is difficult to secure the piece as you work. What I mean -- trying to isolate the workpiece on a workbench, in a vise, etc. can become frustrating, simply because you must often re-set the piece. Most times, in the end, I just grab what I am working on, find a seat, and get to, well, rubbing.

There is another problem here, of course. With this method of rust removal, you can certainly expect "scuffing." Yes, the action of even a fine sandpaper or steel wool will work marks into the surface of the metal in places that the enemy may not already inhabit.

These marks can typically be polished out, and . . . I have had longer term success with these methods – especially if the once cleaned surface gets a good metal primer and a glossier top coat.

But . . . in locations where water/moisture may be present, say on an exterior, this option will not always hold up as well as you typically would like.

Other options (aka let your tools do the work)

When removing rust from hardware, we do have other options. For my shutter hinges and column “feet”, this phase of my program, I chose Krud Kutter’s Must for Rust.

Now, I have used other rust neutralizers; they are easy enough to find at your local auto parts store, and I have had some success with them.

The Must for Rust, however, is a little different, and some keys points jumped right out at me. First, as a remover and an inhibitor, I am not required to apply a top coat of paint within a short period of time. This is good for someone who admittedly has a hard time finishing what they start. (Come on -- I know I am not the only one.)

Also, and this is where it dazzles – I can dilute the Must for Rust down into a solution, and I did 50/50, for submersing and completely covering the hidden nooks found on my hinge parts.

Don't get me wrong, you have the option to apply right from the bottle in a spray or a stream. The available foaming action is perfect for clinging to upright surfaces, such as . . . . say immovable column feet.

The fact that Krud Kutter's products are bio-degradable are just bonus; a fact that makes me feel a little more comfortable about the accidental, yet inevitable overspray.

Must for Rust in action (aka I do my thing, it does its thing)

Let me be clear – I am multi-tasker, and as your classic weekend warrior (grrr), I often only get one day a weekend to get a lot accomplished. As I was working on the front of the house, often up on a ladder, I was bouncing to the back patio to do some of this work.

With a new product, as product manufacturers often suggest and for reasons I have learned, I wanted to do a test with the Must for Rust. Yes, I planned always to apply it to my freshly stripped column feet. But just to see how it handles, I set up a station on my back patio. Here I could try it out on a few of the dipped, yet still rusty shutter hinges. (You can see some of these pics throughout this article.)

Back to work

These hinges, and the pics may not reflect this, were very pitted. A result, I am sure of rust’s savagery. I gave one set of hinges two coatings with the spray, while following the product guidelines closely. Because this first test didn't quite get me where I wanted to be, I decided to mix up a solution.

After about 15 minutes in this bath, I pulled them out, and gave them a light rub with some balled up aluminum foil (which I did grab off a baking pan my wife had setting on the counter). Krud Kutter and Reynold's Wrap, who would have thought, and as you see above -- no scuffing, and a hinge perfectly free of rust.

Now, I was ready to go at the column feet on the front of the house. And – no offense to Krud Kutter, as it is safe on most surfaces – the aluminum foil got me thinking. What a great (reusable) way to protect hard-to-protect surfaces. I placed a protective layer around the base of my feet and applied a foamy coating of the Must for Rust, and . . . it just did its thing . . . again.

Ready for paint

In the end, and as the exterior on my house is a work in progress – I will ultimately paint these surfaces. For now though, I can feel comfortable that this work from that day will hold up until I can get around to selecting the right paint and making the time to apply it. Thanks, Must for Rust.

Next: Reynold’s Wrap as toolbelt essential? Or Flashing: Salvaged and New.

More Moxie:

My favorite part of Krud Kutter's website :: dilution ratios -- http://www.krudkutter.com/dilution_ratio.asp
Greening your kitchen with recycled Reynold's Wrap: http://www.reynoldsrecycled.com/

if there is such a thing as a personal hell - mine would be filled with poorly painted hinges

2009-09-15T06:17:00.005-04:00

click here for last

A bridge or . . .

So . . . you might have read my rant on hastily painted hardware. And maybe you have stayed with me long enough to know that I have a tendency (with this current house) to restore rather than replace.

While I intend to write about removing rust now, in many cases, I had to first remove paint before I could even get to the rust. (chuckle)

I have tackled this task, and I have made this claim elsewhere, of removing paint by almost every means conceivable. And . . . I do know some methods are cleaner and, in a pre-1970s house, more “responsible” than others.

For me, now, working on the front of the house, I want to talk about two places that rust has been a problem: 1) on the “near original” shutter hardware that I intend to re-install & 2) on the base/feet of the “near original” porch columns. (We have 5 porches.)

One effective why to remove paint from your pieces is to take them to a professional

Early on, when we had that decent painter, he was nice enough to remove the shutters from the building before painting its body. Twenty-four windows on the house proper makes for 48 individual shutters, 96 hinges, which themselves when broken down gave us 192 hinge parts.

With both the shutters and the shutter hardware off the house, and I had already been doing some restoration on our other property – It was a no-brainer. I was going to take these parts to get “dipped” (see the Moxie Mouth at right for a definition of this).

I use the guys at Baltimore Finishing Works (Howard Street) for this type of stuff. They have been good to me, and they certainly seem to care about preserving pieces from our past.

I'll admit -- some of the hinges I delivered to them did not make it out the removal/paint stripping portion of the program. And I am certain that I do not have all of the shutter swing arms that I will need.

But now as I am working on the front of my house – my wife says to me – Do you think we can get the shutters back on so we can see what they look like? My answer usually, “ah . . . maybe.”

And really -- we will see. Before winter hits, I do have several other things I want to accomplish on the outside of the house.

Next: I swear -- removing rust and prepped rusted hardware for paint.

More Moxie:

Baltimore Finishing Works is located at 2509 Huntingdon Ave; Baltimore, MD 21211-3108.

if there is such a thing as a personal hell - mine would be filled with poorly painted hinges

2009-09-11T16:47:00.029-04:00

A Rant :: painted hardware (part 1 of a few)

If you have lived in or worked on an old house, you probably know exactly what I mean. There is almost nothing that is more frustrating than having to work the paint from the slot(s) of a screw head.

Look at the alternatives though: Trying to retract a screw found in this situation without first cutting or chiseling that paint away makes for sure stripage, failure, and further insanity.

“Curses!”

We try to avoid this by any means necessary. So . . . with the precision of a gemologist, we cut, chisel, scrape, and pry.

. . . why does hardware get painted . . . .?

There are three common reasons I can think of:

1) Design aesthetic – it certainly has been a trend in recent years to paint switch plate covers, hvac return louvers, etc. in a color that blends them into surrounding wall surfaces.

In this category -- too, some will paint cabinet hardware, etc. just for a change . . . in color. And fortunately better info reaching more informed "users" has given us the tools to do this the right way.

Though not my design instinct (I like the contrast offered by these elements even in white), I do not disagree with this, and it works for many. This technique falls outside the scope of this article.

2) Shear laziness – I mean, how often have you seen someone just paint right over door hinges? I am not talking about a little smudge or an accidental drip, I am talking about just running the brush right over them. Design instinct -- I find that hard to believe. And in my eyes, it's indefensible. It only takes a few minutes to remove most hardware completely.

Fine, if it feels like you don’t have the time to dig that deeply into prep, it is easiest enough, still, to take short strips of 1 ½” painter's tape, placed over a hinge (for example), and later cut neatly at the edges -- to protect these surfaces. Worth the time in my opinion.

3) To hide rust – A few years back, and we have all done it, I hired . . . a “guy” to paint my shed. As far as guys go, Ed did a fantastic job -- except for one thing . . . . He decided to paint the hinges on the shed doors with the same latex paint he had been using on the shed's trim.

When I asked him why he painted these hinges, his response was plain and clear. He said, “They were starting to rust . . . .”

“Curses!”

I guess I really never got this. Why, if we all know metal rusts when it comes in contact with water, would you want to paint over metal with a water-based paint?

Ok, I don’t know all the technology that goes into manufacturing this stuff, and while there may not be any real risk in doing this, still . . . it just doesn't sound, well, right.

Next: prepping rusted hardware for paint . . . the right way.

More Moxie:
This looks like a pretty good article on painting switch plate covers. Since you are removing covers anyway for painting the walls & because you don't typically want to paint your outlets or switches -- this process if usually performed when the plates are not on the walls: http://www.ehow.com/how_4967675_paint-light-switch-covers.html

if there is such a thing as a personal hell - mine would be filled with painted hinges

2009-09-07T10:36:00.042-04:00

The Paint Roller (aka the Preface)

I know it is nothing new, what I am doing here (in this section) – that is, blogging about the work I am doing on my own house. But frankly, College Word :: I would be remiss if I didn’t write about at least some of the projects that I have going on.

And before I dive into my next few posts (regarding paint and other work on the front of the house), I wanted to summarize some of what I have told you thus far:

* Our current home is a 1880’s carpenter-style farmhouse that originally held ten city acres.
* It ironically has a lot of wood: from oak to cypress, from cherry to fir, and so on.
* This house had been abandoned for 2 years prior to us owning it.
(One day, I’ll break out pics of the yard & the massive termite damage.)

That said -- some decisions made early on have guided much of the work I am currently doing.

Six of one, 1/2 dozen of another (Siding)

We decided almost immediately that we were not going to remove or cover the “near original” german clapboard siding. (Did replacing it cross our minds? At that time, honestly, no.)

We had a decent painter, who had just done our other house, and with him, “we” decided initially to give it a quick paint job. It was needed to hide years of flaking and peeling. While it looked good after completion, this decision, here, has spawned years of contention. You see - it is my duty now, slowly, and sections at a time, to strip and repaint the exterior.

I have a guy who helps me every now and then.

Six of one, 1/2 dozen of another (Windows)

In conjunction with our call on the siding, we decided to try to “live with” the “near original” two-over-two wood windows. Yes, that is right – we decided not to go with new replacement windows. And . . . there were several reasons why I could live with this:

Though the house, at the time we acquired it, had 26 broken panes, much of the "near original" rolled, and imperfect glass remained. I had most of the “near original” wooden screens (mounted from the inside of the window). I had almost all of the "near original" shutters & shutter hardware. I even had some of the “near original” window latches.

At the time, I had a guy, too, working with me. He systemically went around, and broke down these windows. He replaced most sash chords with chain, and got them fully operational. While he could have done a better job at removing paint from the “pockets” and window stops, he did do a fine enough job with glazing, and with the painting of the sashes themselves.

Before it was time to exit for another gig, he got about 60% of our windows done. The rest, and yes I am still working on them, I have been doing myself. Off-the-shelf weather-stripping has done, and later new storm windows will hopefully do, a good enough job at keeping them almost air tight.

While I will ultimately install new wood windows in the kitchen, and other less expensive windows in the attic, the cost (monetarily) has been far less (approx. $250 a window) than say the installation of all new windows -- in a line that this house would deserve.

To restore or not to restore that is the question

So that’s where I am at – and for the record: I was never shooting for any sort of historical tax credit; I am not preservationist nor am I particularly “green” (though I do think preservation is probably the greenest method available to us, right now).

I guess in some ways I am just an idealist: restore rather than replace – despite the chagrin of my budget-minded wife.

And with that – I roll on.

Next: Painted Hardware

More Moxie:
My house may not be the truest representation of the "carpenter-style" but as I understand it, basic exterior elements reflect the structure and the interior - hence "carpenter-style": http://architecture.about.com/od/periodsstyles/ss/gothicrevival_7.htm

An overview on clapboard siding: http://www.calfinder.com/library/siding/types-of-siding/clapboard-siding

wash and spin, walk and dance . . .

2009-08-10T22:41:00.040-04:00

Step down from the soapbox, please

I know we are a little late to the hi efficiency front load washer party. Fashionably late we will say. And yeah, we had heard we needed to be prepared for the wash and spin, walk and dance of these funky machines.

Maybe you read recently of the C- tile job I did in my laundry room (trying to be a little less critical of myself), and going a little further back, you might have also read some of my rantings on grown men and instructions (this is a good one: http://agentsofmoxie-home.blogspot.com/2008/12/dtv-is-coming.html).

trying very hard to convert past regrets to knowledge (or something like that)

The first time we fired up our new Frigidaire Affinity washer -- despite logic, I let it in, a little bit of despair. You see, after that first wash, it, the washing machine, ended up about 12 inches from its original location. My thought -- maybe these machines really do require a perfectly level floor. The machine, at the time of install, was perfectly level, I assured it -- the floor, on the other hand, was not.

Anyway, I fought those thoughts back, and I tried leveling it up again. My wife ran another load. This time, the machine, at approximately 20 minutes in, shook and shaked and vibrated the floor making its way back toward the wall and then out again. Me, with the fear of the diy gods in me, went straight for the pedestal's feet. I did my best to get them extended tight to the floor.

My efforts did do a little something. And with me as spotter that load actually finished. But what the f. . . . I told my wife I was going to have to look into it. And this really wasn't what she wanted to hear.

The internet is community (or something like that)

Fortunately, this phenomenon, possessed washing machines, is well documented. And it didn't take me long to find the solution that most individuals have chosen, with marginal success: Anti-vibration pads or mats (like these: http://www.gviinc.net/).

But on further reading, and having already re-visited the installation instructions, I found this -- a well written lick that I choose now to re-post here:

BLOCKQUOTE ON BLOGGER SUCKS!
Having sold our older home, where we used the same trusty Kenmore top-loading washer for 25 years, I bought a very cool Frigidaire Affinity W/D front-loader set . . . .

I did not read instructions, because men don't need to read instructions. Big yellow tags on the back of the washer? That's for simpletons. And women. Us men just plow ahead, even 50 miles and 14 turns after we know darn well we're lost. No map...maps are for wusses.

Shipping bolts. Meh. Stupid little detail, those four long bolts with either a big red or yellow bushing pointing them out, on the back of the machine. Mr. Blockhead did not remove those before using the machine. Mr. Blockhead complained about the insane noise and shivering dance the washer did every time it went into spin cycle. Mr. Blockhead cursed the name of
Frigidaire Affinity!!

(If yours is doing what ours was doing, your problem is just like it says on the huge yellow tag bolted to the back of the washer. You know the tag...the one you tore off when you were hooking up the H & C hoses and drain hose? The one you thought was just about some stupid
safety warnings? Nope. That note told you to remove those four big, fat shipping bolts that hold the inner chassis in a fixed position so the vibration-isolating mounts don't let the drum slam around during shipping.)

So. The problem is that some folks don't read instructions. That problem can't be cured with spacers, pads, or special floors.

Wives: please understand, the front-loading washer industry is rife with complaints about this problem; most of the manufacturers have this terrible situation. It's just endemic to the front-loader industry. The problem has no solution; it is apparently one of the impossible vexations of the universe. Men are from Mars.

Anyway, fellows: I love our new front-loading Frigidaire Affinity set; smooth as silk, and after I removed those four long shipping bolts in the back? Boy howdy, this thing is as quiet as a sleeping new-born mouse. Go in there when the wife's asleep, and remove those bolts. Next day, tell her you figured out an intricate dynamic balancing formula, and made several fine adjustments and, by God, you finally fixed the thing. She'll think you're such a stud!

END BLOCKQUOTE ON BLOGGER SUCKS!

These words of wisdom can be attributed to someone, somewhere with a user name of dmzuniga (unfortunately this was/is the only comment he has left on this particular blog, and without a real name).

He was dead on. I went home last night, and removed the shipping bolts. We ran a load of the girls' clothes, and I swear, you could have placed a sleeping baby on top of it.

I am going to include the pics below as they applied . . . to me (hopefully they will help someone); and I will not resist, first, firing off a quick gripe at Frigidaire, and to all the technical writers around the world.

Sure, it was clearly in there, in the instructions, under the section Unpacking, right between items five and seven. And maybe on a yellow tag too. (Note to self :: read the yellow tags from now on.)

But come on, an experienced instructions reader skimmed right over it. And I usually do depend more on the instructions -- as you might have guessed.

I mean, if this text was online, I'd probably have to have it blinking. You see, those little bolts, and while seemingly minor, could have caused damage to the unit, other property, or, worse, even some bodily harm.

After all -- I know it'd probably be too much to ask of a washer manufacturer to work in a fail-safe for these units.

This is one case, I am sorry, where there simply should have been more emphasis placed on the importance of this step.

Mad Props, I shout DMZUNIGA! Digression Done

More Moxie:
Now I am in no way suggesting that my issue is indicative of what everyone else is experiencing. Certainly, there are many causes for excessive vibration with these units. The vibration-retardation pads I highlighted above certainly seem to be a fairly acceptable solution especially when the problem is noise being generated from upper-story set-ups.

Here is the blog entry on which I discovered dmzuniga's post. I am certainly glad I didn't have to take some of the measures suggested by others in this thread (almost worth the read in and of itself): http://www.houseblogs.net/community/account.php?u=3583

pics from the laundry, powder room & office -- finished . . .

2009-07-23T22:56:00.018-04:00

kinda

I'll admit -- we still have a little punch out on the electric, some touch up painting, and I do intend to add shelving above the "picture rail" in the powder room. Plus -- there are some adjustments I would like to make (if for no one else other than myself) to the tile.

And . . .

There really was not anything truly inspired about this project (it was not without its share of issues). I am proud, however, to say that most materials (including those used in rough-in) were either salvaged, saved, reused, begged for, or taken from my own surplus, except:

* Some building materials (carpet pad, leveling compound, and probably a few other things), toilet, laundry sink, cabinet hardware, and floor boxes from the Home Depot.
* Surface-mount light fixtures, and post-form laminate countertop from Lowes.
* Sun Touch's Warm Wire from Mosaic Tile: http://www.mosaictileco.com/
* Accent tiles and grout from Home Discount Tile Center: http://www.homediscounttile.com/
* Carpet (an area rug) from Ollies Bargin Outlet: http://www.olliesbargainoutlet.com/
* Exterior door hardware from Clement Hardware: http://www.clementhardware.com/
* Washer & Dryer from Sears.

Total cost of materials (not including washer and dryer and some miscellaneous supplies) right around $2000. (I could do the math for you from my books if you like.)

Pics

My apologies, this is one area of the house I had very few before pics of. But trust me -- it was wreck.
View the slide show below or Click the pic at the bottom and you should be able to view the album on Picasa.

Thank you for visiting & BMoxie BMore!

set in stone -- diy tile -- the big mistake, aka . . .

2009-07-23T05:35:00.033-04:00

Sorry about the lack of pics here, I didn’t take any during installation – “finished” coming in a slide show later in the week. (Ok. I was trying to be cute. Writing and tiling are very similar activities -- first you must plan, and you must do. Here is the final installment.)

Is that a hump on your back?

Ok, there was a hump in my floor where the hallway met the laundry. This was due in part to the fact that I mixed up too much self-leveling compound, pouring it out one night in low light after a long day of work (ask my wife to recount this experience). I know, "Excuses, Excuses," – This hump only accentuated the fact that I couldn't get it where I needed it to go. The compound dried too quickly, and a low spot took its place in the center of the laundry floor.

So what did I do? Well, I mentioned previously that I had installed under-tile heat in this floor. I was reluctant, because of it, to address the hump with my angle grinder. (If you have ever done this, you know what I mean; it makes a crazy mess.) Instead, I grabbed a tile stone, threw gloves on, and started rubbing. Self-leveling compound, in the grand scheme of concrete products, is relatively soft; thankfully, I was able to knock that hump down. At least by enough, to proceed.

I was back on track and picked up tiling at the far end of the laundry room – later this run would intersect with where I left off in the hallway. I guess with all my focus on that little hump, I all but forgot about that dip in the center of my floor. . . spreading and setting, spreading and setting, about 10sf at a time. I used a level when needed.

On a roll now, slapping it down

I got a few tiles in that second day, and I really started to roll. I was feeling confident, maybe even a little cocky. I guess over night I assured myself that any irregularity in this floor would be hidden in some part by the more than simple pattern I was using.

On a roll with tile, for me, was still slow going. I was taking special care, depending more on the tile spacers themselves than on a jury stick or any other working lines, to set the tiles perfectly in pattern. I was trying to ensure too that the corners of my tiles were aligning with the edges of each adjacent tile.

After a couple of hours like this, I stepped back. And it looked good. It was time for lunch & well, this day – I decided to grab a beer.

Back to it and finishing it out

It was a hot day last August, and I was feeling good about my job. I ran out the rest the floor pretty effortless. As the natural light faded – me, yes, a few beers in, and my daughters started tugging at me the minute they arrived home from the pool. I told them to give me a few more minutes, as I assessed my job.

I thought to myself, “I really kinda did away with my level about part way through the day. But . . . it looks, ok, from here.” And I put it away; I decided instead to hang with the girls. "Amazing . . .the exact perfect number (I am not kidding) of field tile I needed was in those first six boxes . . . . Amazing."

I would grout a weekend or so later.

Set in stone (aka – do as I say not as I do)

Anyway, that was my tile job. And here comes the painful and humbling truth. I mean, I could have been something; this tile job had all the potential to make me a superstar. But the truth is – I simply blew it. . . . And I have told my wife this many, many, many times.

I skimped just a little too much on prep, drank beer at critical time during the project, and totally and completely forgot about something called a level when . . . I really, really needed it.

When working with wood, mistakes like these are really not a big deal; with tile, however, it set in stone. Any corrections, adjustments, and/or tweaking in any manner is generally not easy. I am talking -- grout saw, hammer and cold chisel, a mess and much sweat.

And yes, I have tried once already on that spot, the dip in the center of my laundry floor. I have already ripped up and replaced some tiles. Is it passable, now? -- Maybe. But I shamefully admit, when we entertained a few weekends ago, I actually pulled our cats' food mat over into that location. (It hid the imperfection rather well.)

My wife does her part, though, she tells me, "You are a not tile setter, and it looks great," and she continues, "It won’t hurt us when we go to sell the house."

Still, I can barely look at it. I failed and . . .in this case, I have no one to blame but myself.

Sometimes it is hard . . . to chalk it up as a learning experience:

The points here, with all these words, are numerous, and are in list form below:

1. I failed because I forgot the basics; I was more concerned with the radiant heat and the pattern than I was with square one, setting the tiles down properly. And Yes, it was a little painful writing this article, but I had to get it off of my chest.

2. I have received several sincere complements on my floor, but still I struggle with it. I mean, in the afternoon light, and in the evening, you can hardly see the area I speak of. But . . . in the low-angled light of morning, typically around the time I am writing to you about home improvement – I see it, sitting there and taunting. AND it drives me crazy.

3. I think of all the how-to stories that would have made great "how-not-to" stories.

4. I think that I should never, ever, take any little bit of skill I have acquired for granted – I am still required, always, to use my head.

5. You (general) can do everything exactly right for 99% of a job, but just that one percent – (and this is where it all deviates from writing) can really screw you.

6. Floors are not only for looking at; they are for walking on.

7. Everything on a house can be undone or re-done (even tile work). It’s not brain surgery. If at first you don’t succeed – try, try again. And you know, I will.

8. I wonder if this job would have turned out better if I had someone, anyone, there to assist me.

9. I am not a tile setter – I am a facilitator. It is me, Building Moxie.

Thank you for reading as I exposed my shortcomings, and think of me as I await my next opportunity with tile. (Continuing fixes in the laundry room included.)

Slide show pics hopefully tomorrow. Thanks again.

More Moxie:

With tile, there can be issue with lot (as a friend of mine -- you know who you are -- can tell you), you know, variations with coloring and thickness. This is especially true when you consider that the manufacturing of some tile can just cease. For me, I was lucky enough, all out of tile, to have a go-to for my needed fixes. Where others said, "We can't get it." These guys said, "No problem.": http://www.ctmarble.net/

set in stone -- diy tile -- tile by the mile

2009-07-22T13:04:00.034-04:00

Sorry about the lack of pics here, I didn’t take any during installation – “finished” coming in a slide show later in the week. (I am going to do this one in a couple shots. Here's part 3.)

Where's the level (aka I'm not quite ready for the painful and humbling truth)

There it was, game day, time to lay my tile. The first step, as with most projects, consult with the misses.

What I had in mind was to lay the tile out, straight and simple. I did already have one box of a second porcelain that probably would have filled in nicely for any shortage, loosing/using that tile in the laundry room’s closet or as an inconspicuous border somewhere.

Well, I ran this plan by my better half, and this is what she said. “Since you are already saving money on this floor, why don't you add a border to it . . . to make it pop?”

She probably did not have her head around how much I had actually spent on leveling this subfloor. And though I do think she sometimes overlooks these kinds of costs, I did not put up a fight. Like a good husband – I shook my head up and down, took a quick measurement and carted myself up to our local discount tile center, sample tile in hand.

This jaunt yielded a couple of acceptable choices. I bought enough to complete a border in one of two ways. Option one -- a 12x12 glazed slate-like porcelain (which would need to be cut). Option two -- a 4x4 alternative. Both reasonably priced, and there in Home Discount Tile, I warmed to the idea of a border.

Let the race begin

I raced home, and started laying out. I was eager to get it started that day. Now, you may ask – why I didn't stop to draw out my layout on paper? Well, answer – as with some jobs – I didn’t really know what I was going to do until it was time to actually do it.

I figured first that I really liked the slate, the 12x12, so I started by cutting a few into perfect 3rds.

Something told me, too, that I had to square up working lines for the border, and then go from there. I mean, old houses are renowned for their precariously out of square walls. Couldn’t count on them; so I sat some cut border tiles as Ls in the corners, and took diagonal measurements across the floor. I used my framing square to make perfect right angle pencil markings at these locations.

Later with caulk lines snapped corner to corner, I began the layout of the field. Now remember – I knew I was going to be pushing it with the porcelain I had originally, but hey, the border would alleviate some of that problem . . . right?

Soon after beginning to place them, I had an idea. Those 4x4 tiles that I had bought for the border potentially – I thought to myself, “Why don’t I alternate them in the field to create a pattern.”

The pattern I picked ultimately came from a reference book that I had on hand; it was sitting in the office adjacent to this space.

Tile floors are in the eye of the beholder

I centered on the most prominent opening – the point of “introduction” to the laundry was the doorway at the office. I laid down a few tiles in my picked pattern using a 1/4 inch grout spacing.

If I were running a straight and simple field, I would have run one row up and one row over to make a T. In this case, a little different -- I set a few tiles down, stepped back and looked. I had to ask myself – how was this pattern going to fall when it nears the most visible areas of the room? Further, how would it look at the far end of the powder room, and/or at the base of the cabinets here in the laundry room?

I didn’t have this layout drawn on paper, and I am certainly not great with advanced mathematics. I felt, these points considered, I had to run the pattern all the way out to where it would be going. So I did, and I was glad I did – because on the first attempt, my layout fell as very thin slivers near the laundry cabinets.

I had to make an adjustment, three inches toward the powder room.

If at first you don’t succeed try, try again

Just so you know - accounting for time to discuss with my wife, pick up and pick out the tile (as I place it), and the time to cut some, I was now into my second day of layout.

After my adjustment, I found that I didn’t now like the way it landed on the side wall of the powder room. I was going to have to compromise, split the difference. In the end, and the third time is a charm – I moved the whole pattern back into the laundry room by about an inch and a half.

And there it was; I had might layout -- nailed. Now, as is the case almost always with me, I was working alone. Sure, I grabbed my wife for approval on the layout, but that’s it though – me and me alone. She liked it, the layout, but she did admit that she couldn’t quite totally visualize it. No fault to her really, most folks can’t fully visualize how something will look unless they have a drawing, or until it is all done.

I have to admit too – in this case – I really didn’t see it just yet either. So . . . I spent the rest of this day laying it all out, cuts and all. When I was finally happy, I was ready then to set it in stone.

Setting in Stone

I mixed up some thin set, and installed the powder back into the hallway, damn. . . and there it was -- my hump/dip. Perfect so far, and it looks great. . . but what to do about that hump.

More to come on my floor soon. Final installment: or is it?

More Moxie:

Shouts to Tile City (for providing us cyber surfers such great graphics) & to Robin at Home Discount Tile Center (for help with planning for my border).

My two-tile pattern. Home Discount Tile calls it Pattern 89 (or thereabouts). Tile City calls it Pattern 2-A:

http://www.tilecity.com/layouts.php

http://www.homediscounttile.com/

set in stone -- diy tile -- it takes many tiles to make a tile floor

2009-07-21T06:00:00.010-04:00

Sorry about the lack of pics here, I didn’t take any during installation – “finished” coming in a slide show later in the week. (I am going to do this one in a couple shots. Here's part 2.)

More Meta-History

As many of you know, I have been working on my house. I had spent lots of time, in recent months, converting the original kitchen into a laundry room. This area, along with an adjoining powder room, represented one (there are others) yet finished portion of this house. These rooms had been gutted and had waited for me for about 2 years.

As with most of my larger projects, early in the process, I set down a program. On the schedule, we (my wife & I) had planned an upgrade to the brick patterned linoleum tiles that must have sat in the area for decades.

For the task of tiling, in particular, I was excited – it was gonna cost me virtually nothing. A few years back, I had gotten my hands on six boxes of very decent 13x13 porcelain -- the surplus from another job.

At about 15 sf a box, though, it would be tight trying to cover the entire footprint of the space, approximately 95 sf total. I knew going in, I was going to have to improvise, incorporating possibly, a 2nd tile into the layout. Yet – I was looking at a fairly inexpensive tile job.

Just give me the honesty truth

Old houses are renowned for their pitching floors. It gives them character. . . hazzah! This tile job was to start with what I have come to know as – floor prep. But I knew too that this one would be a challenge.

To give you an idea: running from the powder room to an adjacent wall in a hallway, the floor dipped over a span of 8 ft by a full inch and a quarter.

You can’t handle the truth

Leveling floors is surely a dissertation in itself. But since that is not really the focus of this story, I will try to keep it brief. What are the options?

Build a “sleeper”, jack up the floor, remove the existing sub floor to address or even replace the joists, build a dry set mortar bed like a specialist might, or reach for “Self-Leveling Compound”. Ahhh. . .the trumpets blow.

I mean come on, how could I resist a product that is going to install itself? And I have had a handful of moderately successful experiences with this solution. But don’t be fooled – it doesn’t really do all the work for you. Just because these products seek their own level when poured, does not mean necessarily that they do not need your assistance.

Custom’s QuikLevel (which I selected for this project), LATICRETE 88 Latilevel, and the like all still require you to mix them correctly, in an amount that can be practically applied (working time 30 minutes roughly). They also require you to make sure you direct the compound to where it must go.

For this job though, I was willing to participate. I mean, after all, look at the other options.

Prep and prep again

I tried, as I always do, to estimate the number of bags that would be needed, and let’s be honest, I mean at 30 bucks for a 50 pound bag, I do try to stretch it a little. I won’t mention, too, that for this job, I had decided to incorporate a Sun Touch Warm Wire system into the floor.

By my calculations, I was buying eight bags of this compound. And just like that – my inexpensive tile job went from $0 to $250. But hey, I was saving on the tile, right, so what the heck.

I started by mixing four bags and I poured them out over the backerboard I had already installed. I installed the heating system and poured out the remaining four bags. This process took all tolled, and with my busy schedule, about three working days.

Making choices and living with them

So there it was – my leveled floor. Well – it wasn’t perfectly level. I could see it. I didn’t need a long-footed level or a laser to tell me that. There was a belly right in center of the floor, the most visible area. Now – I have dealt with this before. I just didn’t calculate for enough leveling compound. So what do I do? Buy more compound? That seems like the most logical choice.

Well, I guess, logic doesn’t always win with me.

I mean, after all, and my wife the real estate agent has beat this one into me, I am not getting paid, here, for a perfect job. I am just trying to make a functional space that will add a little value to my house.

So what did I do? F – It. I started laying out the tile. I just needed to build the low spots up with a little extra thin set mortar. I had done this before and I could do it again. I just didn’t want to spend the money, and I definitely did not want to take the time.

More to come on my floor soon. Titled: the painful and humbling truth

More Moxie:

Here is the link to Sun Touch's Warm Wire system. I really enjoyed working with it. It gave me the flexiblity to put the heat were I wanted it, in multiples rooms. As a diy job, again all in the prep, and it was easy enough. But I may suggest having a second set of hands handy if they are needed: http://www.suntouch.com/warmwire/

set in stone -- diy tile -- laying it out

2009-07-20T11:31:00.016-04:00

Sorry about the lack of pics here, I didn’t take any during installation – “finished” coming in a slide show later in the week. (I am going to do this one in a couple shots.)

To steal a phrase from my artist friend – Jack Pierce;
Meta-History

I really do not have much formal training; here’s the resume:
1. My grandfather (from the very first post), a machinist and boat mechanic by trade, with whom I worked in my teens – taught me how to try to think and, well, to try.
2. I worked with a small general contractor in and around San Jose, CA; I was a punch out guy in the late ‘90s. While I did do a little bit of work with drywall, and doors, on plumbing & electrical, and with wood, what this job really taught me was how to fix some things on the quick.
3. I worked with a production builder as an asst. /finish-end construction manager; they taught me the basic construction process – about selections and scheduling, about frustration and expectations. This job taught me how to overcome challenges.

The rest of what I know about houses comes through trial and error learned doing not insignificant work on four properties. Combined, there is really no home system that I have not performed, at least, a repair on. And I will admit -- some tasks have been accomplished with more success than others.

Out on the tiles

At this point, and I did occasionally watch the work of experienced tile setters when I had spare time with the production builder; I have left my signature on five tile floors now.

My signature – though at times sloppy is still readable. Yes in each case, I can find slight imperfections in all of these floors. The thing that gets me isn’t the layout, the cutting, or the grouting. It is the setting of the tile. Probably the most mindless of all the tasks; and I ask myself – why is this? I am perfectionist – but I am far from perfect almost every time.

I always wonder, too – what I might learn if I were to attend one of Home Depot’s free weekend how-to clinics. I always see it on the board. How-To Tile :: Floors and Walls – every weekend for years; I see it on the board outside the store – 10 to 11 . . . Saturday.

Me – I learn (yes present tense) how to install tile, as I do with most things, by, one, reading an article online, in a mag, or in a book, and, two, by just trying it. Here, I spin back up to the last paragraph; would they show me how to monitor myself in the process of an installation? In an hour, too, could I expect that they would cover all of what might be encountered during the process of laying a floor of tile?

My houses always seem to have floors/substrates that require lots and lots of prep. And as they say with everything, it is all in the prep. Would this be covered?

Still – I don’t know and I pray for the day – that I get a floor where I could put down backerboard or equivalent underlayment – and set some tiles without a thought to level, plane or other horizontals that the eye may catch.

More to come on my floor soon.

More Moxie:

It looks like Home Depot is revamping their How-To clinic strategy -- new look on the homedepotclinics.com. Interesting: http://www.homeimproverclub.com/

side venting a dryer -- close quarters connect

2009-07-16T11:25:00.038-04:00

Pick up

I gave Sears their props. I was happy with our purchase. Sure – we had to settle for the smaller capacity equipment – and yes I do risk going with a scratch and dent dryer in a color that may not be matched in a few years. But for now – they looked great and we (read: the wife) was extremely happy.

Of course, we opt to pick up the new appliances ourselves (read: me & saving the $65 for each appliance). A little cardboard, some ratchet straps, an appliance chart, and timely help from neighbors – no problem.

Prep

Any time I make a major purchase, I try to get my hands on the installation instructions long before the fixture goes in. I didn’t really have that luxury this time. (I guess it is because the project manager on this job is really running things loosely.) But – shortly after we loaded in the dryer, I opened the included booklet.

I guess it makes sense, but still I was surprised and taken aback to note in the instructions that gas dryers (the flavor with which I was working) could only be side-vented out of the right side. Electric models could go both ways. . .it was the gas inlet, here, that would interfere with attempting this in any other way.

I was aware going in and I had learned (not in any certain terms) that for side-venting on a dryer, some models could be configured using an off-the-shelf duct. In the case of our Frigidaire, a model-specific adapter would, however, be needed.

To order this, I pulled up Sears Parts Direct – $20 charged to my card and five or so business days later – I received it in the mail. I was surprised that this attachment was nothing more than shorter version of the heavy gauge steel duct already fitted to the unit. You see, it had a mounting clip welded to it.

Setting the pedestal

To start, I removed the back panel of the pedestal. (I hope this doesn’t destabilize it as a platform.) My hope was to slide my gas stub up into the back of it. In reality, however, this really only gained me a fraction of an inch. I was hoping for more, but because of the gas inlet, and where it was placed on the dryer. My gas line later would butt the wall.

With this pedestal set in place, mounting hardware installed, and leveled as per instructions, I began work on the back of the dryer as sat in the center of the floor.

Configuring the venting outlet

I removed the back cover – and accessed the situation. I installed the new attachment, fitted it with a full swivel duct 90, and added a 48 inch long, 4” round steel extension to the elbow. The extension would bring the venting out of the side of the appliance.

That’s not exactly the order of the events – at some point in there, I had to address the knock-out in the side of the dryer. Similar to what I would do with some electrical applications – I whacked the head of an old screwdriver with a rubber mallet. I moved around the perimeter of it and in a matter of moments my path was cleared.

I held my duct extension in place and took a rough measurement. I had to shorten the extension that I purchased. As opposed to attempting this cut with a pair of aviator snips or with a hack saw, I set the assembled tube on my miter saw and whacked it off. I visited the rough edges with a fine file.

I joined everything with foil tape – (love this stuff) folded and torn, not cut – and replaced the back access panel on the dryer.

Close quarters

I knew I wanted to come out the side of the unit and right out the side the house. I purchased a “close quarters” connect, an offset aluminum assembly that slides back and forth from zero to six inches. I did stop to wonder, and since I was right tight to the outside wall, about bringing the louvered vent straight into the unit.

Yes, I’ll admit, this thought did make me a little nervous 1. because I am not certain if there any code limitations with this and 2. because coming straight in with the rigid dryer vent sleeve left me no margin for error.

So. . . in the end, I did choose to use the offset. This would push me out from the wall a little, but in close quarters – I felt if I could also bring it forward a little, it would ease finishing of the connections.

Committing

I wasn’t overly exacting with my measurements. I moved the hole forward of the dryer outlet by about 4” (within the zero to six inch reach I mentioned above). I start this portion of the task by probing the location – I always probe before breaking out the hammer drill and hole saw. My choice for this is a 14” 5/16th bit (well, because it is the only long bit I have). I use my cordless drill to take this through to the outside of the house.

Down into the basement and out the basement door for a look. It couldn’t have centered much better than it did. On lap siding, I try to place the louver as such that it will rest on two courses – one for mounting at the top, and one for mounting at the bottom.

Next comes the 4 1/2” hole saw – yes 4 ½” for a little wiggle – the lowest setting on my drill. A new bit (though at $35 a pop) cut through my siding, sheathing and interior wall surfaces like butter. (And yes – I do start and work the hole from each side.)

Insert tab a into slot b

My hole complete, gas line connected at the back, and the close quarters vent installed, I grab my wife and her muscles. We lifted the dryer up onto the pedestal – setting it inside the mounting brackets as diagramed. I inserted the few machine screws provided with the mounting brackets, and we slid the dryer over and out. I made the final gas connection. (I won’t go into this today – pipe dope and TWO wrenches.)

I eye balled my house hole, lining it up with the vent (fitted with a temporary flexible extension). It’s here that I was thankful for the close quarters connect. It glided easily on itself – as I gently skidded the appliance backward and over. The additional space that was created for/by this connector would not only be needed for finishing the vent, but also allows me to reach to the back of the pedestal for adjustments to the leveling legs.

One last thing before I am out

Because I have plans on replacing the section of siding where this vent now exits – I hold off on fitting the vent flap to the duct, and on taping the corners of my close quarters assembly.

I will admit, this is the first time I have used this type of connector. I will let you know how it performs. The offset (as with a toilet offset) may have a tendency to capture things. And lint stuck in a dryer vent may not only hinder a dryer's performance, but it may also be a real fire hazard.

I am going to have to check in a few months – maybe you will remind me.

More Moxie:

Sears Parts Direct: http://www.searspartsdirect.com/partsdirect/index.action

side venting a close quarter dryer -- the preface (aka hot air)

2009-07-14T12:04:00.017-04:00

My apologies first for straying off topic (maybe) and not including pics. . .well, because I don't have them yet.

To install a washer and dryer you must first purchase a washer and dryer

There is probably nothing that makes me feel more like an adult than shopping for appliances and . . .

I am repeatedly amazed by my experiences with Sears. With all that has gone wrong in the business world recently and I know that this company went through some tough times in recent years – for me it is one, this company, that has always re-invented itself – changing when it must.

Sure – I do feel like I am stepping onto a used car lot when I am in their appliance department. But . . . everything is clearly marked, the salespersons are knowledgeable, they have in-store informational tools, buyer’s protection, and on I could go . . . .

Zero-percent interest-free financing (like competitors), ease of pick up (automated now), and, well, they have their Sears support systems, including online tools like Parts Direct. For me, Sears (an American institution at that) is just a joy to work with. And no, I am not on payroll, yet.

The spin

As with everything in our house, there is some sort of space consideration that must be made. Because we converted the original kitchen into a laundry room, and because this portion of the house was built as an addition, and for the purpose of cooking only, the space within which the washer and dryer combo was going to sit was, guess what, limiting.

The wall and it’s interaction with the nearest window measured at approximately 29 ½ inches. This space was designed to receive a standard free-standing range and a countertop. (Standard counter depth, as we know – is approximately 25 ¼”.) Any appliance much deeper than that would have concealed a portion of the window’s trim there, and I didn’t want that.

You would think that she was a kid in a candy store

To be fair – Jenny has, for the 18 months that we have lived in this house, endured the long, cold, dark walk into the basement. Down there, next to the utility tub, sit the appliances that conveyed with the house. Antiquated and not well maintenanced, at times, you would think she was using a washer board and her hot breath to pull off a load of laundry.

It was not surprising that she was eager to pick out her new washer and dryer. Plus, she knew what she wanted – front load on a pedestal and in a color that matched her eyes. . . Ok, I am just throwing in the part about eye color. . .but she did want a color to add a little zing; something to coordinate with the paint, and other surfaces found in this, and adjoining, rooms.

But . . . there was that depth requirement. These things couldn’t stick out in front of my window -- that would be poor design.

Due diligence

So we broke out our double Ds: Due Diligence and we did our research. We humped it up to Lowes. What we found was that most full-sized units, that is – 4.0 cubic whatevers for the washing machine and 7.0 cubic thingamaspace for the dryer made these appliances slightly too deep. For the record -- some measured, including their thick bubbled doors, around 30 inches, more, though, were closer to 33 inches in depth.

So, we had to fine tune our search. We narrowed it down to two models: Whirlpool’s Duet Sport and Frigidaire’s Affinity Series. There were others, including a Kenmore (Sear’s signature brand) that were ruled out because they were only available in white and/or black. The Whirlpool and Frigidaire however both had a blue that we liked.

These smaller units -- 3.5 cubic and 6.0 cubic respectively, were originally designed for second story installation, and apparently do well when stacked. (I sure do miss the second story laundry room we had in our last house). For me, in and of itself, this trait is one of the greatest advancements in washer and dryer technology -- this century. You either set these fancy machines side by side, or get this – on top of one another.

From there – we pulled up Consumer Reports on each model, noted that these units as a whole (especially the high speed turbine washer) have a tendency to walk and, well, to smell. We (well Jenny) weighed pros and cons, read comments and reviews, but in the end decided that it was six or one and half dozen of the other. That decided, we were going to go with the Frigidaire; the wife liked their Glazier Blue a little bit more.

Target acquired

Once we had our minds made up, and this is how we often proceed with things like this; we had to find the best deal. I will admit -- I am from the school of thought -- it is a delicate balance -- you can waste precious time on the internet, and/or driving from dealer to dealer trying to save every couple of dollars. That kind of madness does not necessarily make for the best deal. Time is money after all.

For us, we started at the Sears Appliance Outlet on York Road. If you live in the Baltimore area and if you have never been there when shopping for appliances or other fixtures (huge array of tractors), it is a must.

We walked in that day, a Saturday, I called first, and there it was – the dryer we wanted, including two, count them two, matching pedestals.

Now, what exactly this appliance went through to get to this scratch and dent location – I am not sure, but that was not what had mattered this day. What matter was that this dryer – which of course would sit on the right, had only moderate damage to its sides. AND it was gas; just what I needed.

Our plans -- stuffing it tight to the outside wall, and pairing it with a washer as a shield, it would do just fine. $1050 to $790. . .and just because I asked, $690. I don’t bring this up because I think I got an amazing deal, but it did make me and the wifey feel good, and I am sure the appliances guys were still well above margin. Win-Win.

We completed are set by visiting the nearest Sears location and purchasing the washer new. That new shiny bright blue machine would be the first thing that most will see when they enter our laundry.

Pics and more details to come shortly in the next post. Sorry again for sidetracking.

More Moxie

Sears Appliance Outlet: http://www.searsoutlet.com/d/index.jsp

Oh. . .Lauraville!

2009-06-25T15:11:00.003-04:00

This Old House names Lauraville one of the Best Old House Neighborhoods 2009: First-Time Buyers

If you were wondering where I live, and yes -- I do love seeing the neighborhood get its props: http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/photos/0,,20283038_20633930,00.html.

The Pocketless Door Experiment: a Reprise

2009-06-10T10:48:00.050-04:00

Part 1 of this article: http://agentsofmoxie-home.blogspot.com/2009/01/pocketless-door-experiment-1-of-3.html
Part 2 of this article: http://agentsofmoxie-home.blogspot.com/2009/02/pocketless-door-experiment-2-of-3.html
Part 3 of this article: http://agentsofmoxie-home.blogspot.com/2009/02/pocketless-door-experiment-part-3-of-3.html

The reprise
I had my fun, and free reign to try anything I wanted with the door on our newly remodeled powder room. I posted previously, in three parts, and lost you as I blathered on not only about the door itself, but about my methods and my means, my history and my place. Back story I will call it, and a way for me to come clean.

I did leave you hanging, like my door suspended there in the bath, but -- no more.

Straight up -- the pocketless door experiment was a failure. I think once I slipped the last hinge pin in this past weekend, I finally can confirm that. I still maintain that the pocketless door experiment might have worked, somewhere, but not in this house; not as the powder room door here.

More than a door
Several space considerations had to be made early on in this project. Even before we began gutting, we noticed the original door when swung open slapped the bowl of the sky blue toilet here. (I always wonder how something like this happens – poor planning, I guess.)

Knowing that we didn’t want to get involved with moving any part of the cast iron plumbing, we decided that I would simply cut the existing door in half and mount it as a “mini-French” – two smaller doors hinged one each from both jambs. Functional, unique – a perfect fit for this house and our style. The plan from the beginning.

With this detail decided, we proceeded to rough-in the space. We placed electrical switches and outlets just out of a half a door’s reach. I set the plumbing for pedestal sink where I wanted; it would not be affected by this door configuration, and vice versa.

The stack attack
Another feature of our powder room -- the stack. Yes, the house’s main WV (waste & vent) stack, in cast iron too, comes right down and through this bath. In these situations, and you find them often in older houses, this 3” pipe would eventually be concealed with a chase.

Every inch of wiggle matters
I gutted and re-framed this door opening. I could have shrunk the opening a little, calling for a 28” (2-4) door instead of the 30” (2-6) door that I had on hand.

While I did have this idea (plan B) in the remote outskirts of my mind, my course decided upon – it didn’t get the priority that maybe it should have. So the framing went in, and while I gave myself about an extra ¾”, I would be wishing later that I framed instead for a standard-sized 28” door.

The toilet & other matters
The placement of this toilet was very limiting. It was in clear shot of a standard door’s swing from one side. On the other, it was confined by the chase for my WV.

To complicate matters, I wanted that chase to do double duty. I wanted it to hold custom cubbies. To do this, I would need to frame it up in 2x4 as opposed to 2x3. (The 2x3s of course could have given me up to an inch more in usable space.) The cubbies were being built into the recesses of the blocking here – I would need the additional depth provided by the 2x4s.

I explored the idea of using a 2-inch offset flange on the toilet. This would have given me additional clearance off a 30-inch door. In the end, though, I was opposed to this mainly because the openings on these offsets themselves shrink. And hey, living with a three- and a five-year-old, you never know what could go down, or get stuck, in a toilet drain.

I really do love my wife, and I think she loves me . . . (Jen, Jen . . . anyway)
As I mentioned previously, I had gotten approval to try the pocketless door. It was a hair. . . .You know. Because I installed the wall treatment as such (and I won’t waste any more time on that here), I would need this door to slide outward and inward just slightly along its glide.

Plus, I was really going to push the bounds of psychics, and try to slip this panel down into the opening. Doable -- I know it. And I got it to the point where it would have required only a little -- additional engineering.

And in lies the breakdown: my wife simply didn’t think the look of the bulky hardware I employed worked well with this dainty little powder room. Maybe she was right. In the end, for me, though, it was watching my girls that broke me.

The girls were having difficulty sliding the door back and forth. It was just too much for them to handle. And like that, after mauling it over for about a month – the pocketless door was out. The “mini-French” was back in.

But we don’t speak French
When it finally came time, my wife and I met again to discuss the pros and cons of different door configurations. Yep, and guess what – the toilet I ultimately installed was still in the way of a hinged door’s swing. So that was still out.

Because of a minor obstruction created by the wall treatment, the sink-side portion of the mini-French would probably not swing a full 180 degrees. This translates, here, to less than textbook clearance (21” by code, 30” in design sense) at the front of the sink.

While we thought this would be easy enough to live with, we continued to discuss other options. Then it was said: “There is always the bi-fold.”

So . . . making a bi-fold
To make the bi-fold, I started by cutting my 30” (less a few fractions of inch from previous work) door in half. I did this by placing it on my temporarily work bench and clamping a straight 2x4 over it from both ends of the table. For added insurance, as is often necessary with long “guided” rips – I placed a drywall screen down through the 2x4 into the door’s center rail. (I would putty it later.)

I attempted to find the exact center by taking measurements in multiple locations along the door’s height. Since, however, this door had been worked even before I got to it, I could not depend on these measurements. I quickly scrapped that idea and used instead measurements off of the doors raised panels. I made marks in 3 places along the door and ran a line up the door’s center stile.

Using my circular saw, I made a straight/flat rip cut along this line. This cut revealed the large wafers, biscuits, which hold the door’s panels in place. (Hopefully the picture at right shows this.)

The fear all along with cutting a door in half (I haven’t done this one before) is that it, in the end, would simply fall apart. To neutralize risk of this – I made additional cuts at the inside edges of the door pieces, and added 5/8” S4S. I glued and tacked this to the edges. With just a little sander work, I had two equally sized door panels.

Even a bi-fold has hinges (a little technical)
For the fold, I could have chosen non-mortise bi-fold door hinges. The main benefit of these hinges is a “cut-out” in one side allowing the two hinge plates to mate perfectly. Fearing this style of hinge would not be sturdy enough to hold my fir door, I instead chose to mortise for and install three 3 1/2” square corner hinges.

To do this, I flipped my radius corner mortise jig over. This allowed for squared cutting across the entire edge of my door panels. (This door coincidentally was a non-standard 1 and ¼” thick.)

For this procedure, I always try to remember that you should recess the entire face of the hinge. (You can mark your depth on your door panel by holding the hinge up next to it.) I have trained myself especially with my low-end plunge router to go a little shallow on these cuts, at about 3/32” of an inch.

I paired my doors, marked for my mortises – 7” from the top, 11” from the bottom, and at a distance splitting them for the center -- and made my mortise cuts. I assembled the doors and found that in this case I went a little too shallow. There was light passing through the center where the doors met. This would not necessarily be desirable for a bathroom door. So I went to work with a one-inch chisel, beveled-side face up – as to take minimal amounts out of the recesses.

This took some time, but generally it worked. If anything I might have went a little too deep here. Later, when the door was finally hung, it was kicking back just slightly when shut.

“Oh well,” I said to myself, with all I have gone through with this door, and even today – still searching for pivoting pocketless door hangers, “good enough.” I added an additional surface-mount bolt latch at the top of the door just to the “latch” side of the fold.

What of the abandoned backing on the slider set-up
Now, the wife happy, the experiment resolved, the kick back rectified, and the door painted, I post.

For now, the abandoned backing for the slider remains. Our original intention was to add shelving in this room. With the backing boards I had added, hey, I have a built-in shelf.

And that's my story and I am sticking to it.

More Moxie:
*Non-Mortise Bi-Fold Door Hinges (for illustration): http://www.hardwaresource.com/Store_ViewCatLevel3.asp?Cat=129&OrderID=
*Toilet Anatomy (cool site): http://www.toiletology.com/anatomy.shtml
*American Standard's Cadet 3 Flowise Collection: http://www.americanstandard-us.com/searchResults.aspx?c=71&p=3

Bigger, Faster, Stronger, Better (an outtake)
I had a salvaged toilet on hand throughout this entire process, and I did intend to use it. I placed my cubbies at the exact height at which the toilet’s tank could not reach them. While I took the time to ensure this would not be an issue, I did not, in the end, account for the toilet’s handle placement. Whoops!

On this particular model – the flush level was on the left-hand side of the tank. If I installed this toilet, the lever would have been right tight against the chase. RATS! That would not work. So . . . I had to find another toilet.

But what I found instead was that I simply screwed myself. Most narrow toilets compensate for their size with added height to the tank. (32” or more from the floor for most.) Because of my chase, my tank could be no wider than about 19”. But for me, my total height also couldn’t exceed 29”, any taller and the toilet tank would have hidden my precious bottom cubby.

Thank the plumbing gods, though, for Cadet 3, an offshoot of American Standard’s most popular line. As compact as this toilet was, the tank measuring at 17 1/4 inches wide, a full door swing would still just lightly touch the lip of the toilet tank lid.

Nonetheless, on a day that I had set aside to purchase and install a toilet – it would do. I had special plans for the bath door anyway. Right?

And it was only a few months later, on a trip to Lowes, when we found an even slimmer Cadet 3 Flowise – a one-piece unit measuring only 15 ½ inches wide. Did I overlook this? Did I not shop enough? Was I in too much of a hurry? I don’t know – but I did hear it from my wife that day.

A toilet of this size would have given me enough wiggle room to install a full size door. And as I have mentioned previously, it is always good to have wiggle.

Happy Mother's Day, Jen! Let's re-finish the porch.

2009-05-11T10:17:00.037-04:00

Hi
First, I hope you know I have been working on other things. But I did take some pics of our work around the house this weekend. Second, I never claim to be perfect. I admit that unless I am getting paid for it, I am usually pretty lazy with my research. Third, I won't hide things in these pages -- good and bad. Promise. I am a try-it-yourselfer and sometimes -- I try things, just to try.

Mother's day at my house
No, the laundry room is not done. Something tells me that would have been the best Mother's Day gift I could have ever given my wife. Well, honestly, I know because she told me. But alas -- the laundry room is not finished.

We made arrangements to send the girls over to my mother's house this past weekend. They were going to spend the night with their Gram. For her, my mother, that's the best Mother's Day gift ever (who knew). This was good for Jenny & I, because it freed up some time to address something that has been weighing rather heavily on us: A mahogany porch that was not 4 years old yet, and in need of re-finishing, again.

The porch in question
A few years back, and you probably know, we had a little time with this house before we moved in. During that time, one big area of immediate need was the exterior porches. The guy we had working with us, well, I don't like talking about him too much, suggested mahogany.

I know a little bit about wood. I do. I knew that fir was the most common selection for porch decking, but since the mahogany was available for a penny a foot cheaper at his lumber supplier, I said, "Make it so." And he did, but it was our job to finish it.

The decking went down, and straight up, it looked beautiful. We made the right call. I asked my guy how to finish it, i.e. how to protect it. . .he said, "Poly it." So I looked around and thought about it a bit. I had collected several cans of clear exterior grade spar urethane over the years; it seemed like a good choice on a covered porch. Forget the fact that the can said, "not intended for flooring"; I had Jen, our painter, put it down.

That too -- looked awesome. And it did for awhile.

Take two
Problem was -- about 18 or so months in -- we noticed that the front edges of the boards, though, were starting to loose their finish, flaking and peeling away. I mean come on: Couldn't have that. . .the spar urethane had to go. I asked a neighbor, a guy who works with boats, about it. He said -- he didn't know why the finish was failing, but he did suggest, however, that what we were seeing was probably not only an effect of water exposure, but also due in part to the sun. I guess it made sense. UV rays are a bear, and my Douglas fir siding can attest to that. Did he have a solution? No.

I began to look elsewhere. I pulled a copy of This Old House, the mag, out of my archives. And I read: Two ways to go, the article generally said. I don't recall the exact terminology, but: Way 1 -- hard shell finish -- like a urethane, or Way 2 -- an oil-based treatment -- like a Thompson's Water Seal.

With a couple quick Google searches, I targeted a product, Penofin. Pricey and hard to find, I searched on. Then I came across Australian Timber Oil. I didn't really read anything that told me that this was the product for decking, but available at the Lowe's, and at around $21 a gallon, we'll give it shot. So my wife re-finished part of the side porch.

That too -- looked awesome. And it did for awhile.

Once, twice, three times a lady
The problem was -- with the Timber Oil -- on a high traffic porch, it simply wore off. Wear was even and it appears that the boards were still getting some protection. But dirt was getting rubbed in, and some of the boards were starting to cup. That wouldn't do.

So . . . we took this weekend. It was a few nice days of bonding. I removed the porch rails so we could do the re-finish for reals. Jenny worked the belt sander, and I the random orbital. We had the porch completely stripped in about 6 hours of work. It looked awesome.

This time, and we had been using this product a bit on our fence, we were going to give it a go: Flood's CWF-UV5. We brushed it on in about an hour.

That too -- looks awesome. And hopefully it will for awhile.

Bottom Line & Lessons Learned
From the limited research I've done: There is no way to avoid the re-finishing dance. If you like the look of natural wood on your exterior porches, be prepared to re-finish the surface frequently. This Flood product, for example, only offers three years between treatments. So . . . hopefully, this time, we will actually get that full three years. I'll let you know.

For me, lessons learned:
1. It is wise, sometimes, to check your contractor's advice. & Pay attention to labels.
2. Do your research, always. Basically, and what I have gathered, pick a product, since you are going to have to treat the surface repeatedly, that does not require extensive preparation before application. That's why I am on this oil-based wood treatment kick right now. Hopefully, in third years, it will be powerwash and reapply. No sanding needed.
3. Re-finishing a porch is a great way to spend a weekend with your significant other(hopefully mine felt the same).

pictorial: cutting for and installing a self-rimming sink in a postform laminate countertop

2009-03-21T23:46:00.080-04:00

Pictures are worth a thousand words. Plus my proofreader is out of town.
you guys know I like to talk, and further, I feel that most how-to writing can be restrictive. I usually try to put some thought into these articles. I try to pick jobs that are interesting enough in their own right, but hope always to tell a narrator. I try to communicate tips and lessons learned, unfiltered from some "ready for print" ideal. Home Improvement can be challenging, and as with everything in life, we can be defined by how we confront and overcome challenges.

Most of the pieces you will find here, while I hope are informative, focus usually on the human element. The "home" in home improvement. That said, I am working on other things currently, but do have the time and want to post pictures from my most recent project.

Post-form countertops are always an affordable option
Ok. We are still working on converting the original kitchen in our house to a laundry room. We (my wife and I) had decided early on that we were going to keep the built-in cabinets that were in place there. While spartan, for the most part they were usable. A new paint job dressed them up nicely enough. We needed a new counter though. And in order to avoid a dissertation on counter options, let me simply say we quickly decided on post-form laminate. These durable surfaces are perfect for areas such as laundry rooms, and fit nicely into any budget.

The total material cost for this counter job was approximately $110. And the counter itself, was easy enough to install -- including the time to cut in and install the sink, it took me about 6 hours.

Installing a self-rimming sink in a post-form laminate countertop
I decided against taking space here to walk you through the process of installing this type of counter. Many good tutorials can be found online, and most basic carpentry books provide excellent coverage on this task. In the grand scheme of things, it is fairly easy to cut and install a post-form (I always think they should be called "pre-form") laminate countertop.

Instead, I have decided to walk you through the more daunting task of cutting the sink hole in the once installed counter. Note: for the sake of efficiency, I have choosen to group photos in threes and will make comments on each block immediately above them.

1. Begin the job -- While some say the hardest part of a job is starting, for me it's not an option, either I do it or it doesn't get done. With a skillfull cut and a handful of shims the counter went in easy enough. My wife and met at Home Depot one Friday with the primary purpose of purchasing a sink. Luckily, that day we passed the marked-down aisle. As you can see below, we found this beautiful double-basin sink at a 75% discount. The lesson here: ALWAYS CHECK THE CLEARANCE AISLE AT THE HOME CENTER.

To start the install, I need to know where the sink is going. I found the center point of both the sink base cabinet and the window sill immediately above it. I do this by halfing the distance and drawing short hash marks at both ends.

2. Use the template provided with the sink -- Sink manufacturers supply an actual size template for the needed cut out. Use it. While instructions call for the installer (you) to trace or script the cutout line, I decide instead to tape it down firmly. I had a little indecision about where I should set the template front to back. I decided ultimately that I wanted a little space at the back lip, and that I needed to make sure that the front edge of the bowl would just clear the front edge of the cabinet frame.

With the template lined up with center lines from above, I drilled 1/2" starter holes around the perimeter of the cut out line. I followed behind with a jig saw loaded with a down-cutting laminate blade. With a steady hand and moving deliberately, I gave myself a pretty good rough cut.

3. Fine tune the opening using a belt sander -- I try to make sure, and I wish I had a second set of hands sometimes, that the waste would not fall into the new opening. This would damage the surface of the counter. To prevent this, I propped a piece of scrap lumber up under the opening to catch the cut as it was being completed.

To get a finished edge on the opening, I used a Sharpie to straighten the edges. I then used my belt sander loaded with 100 grit sandpaper, and worked up to the outside edge of the Sharpie line. The belt sander is the perfect tool for shaping a laminated surface.

4. Install the fixtures before installing the sink (if this is sensible) -- As per the manufacturer's instructions, and/or on the recommendation you would hear from a familar plumber, assemble as much as possible before installing the sink.

Notice the picture below how I swiveled the large pull-out kitchen faucet around on itself. This balanced the faucet very nicely while I tightened it up from below with two hands. I chose in this case -- with a heavy cast iron, double-basin sink -- to leave out the strainers at this phase; the drain holes made great hand holds that I could use to grab and lift the sink up into place.

5. Install the strainers and apply 100% Silicone -- Now with the sink set in the counter cutout, I installed strainers (no garbage disposal in the laundry) into both drain holes. This procedure can be found in many plumbing books. I regret buying budget strainers for this job; they bent slightly when I was cranking the lock ring up into place from underneath. Installing strainers after the sink is in, while it requires some flexibility, is not super difficult. This is especially true if you have access to an assistant.

Because self-rimming cast iron sinks are heavy (I did supply additional blocking for support underneath the counter), they do not require clips to hold them in place. The manufacturer, in this case Kohler, recommends finishing with a 100% silicone caulk. Once cured, the caulk glues the sink in place. This subject could be a dissertation in itself -- I installed a fat bead of caulk and finished/smoothed it with a wet finger. Hopefully the pictures below show this.

6. Caulking behind the sink can be trouble & final plumbing connections -- With the sink eyeballed and set perfectly in place, the caulking underway, I finished the caulking on the back lip of sink with a squeeze tube of silicone (the matching equivalent to the one loaded into a caulk gun can always be found). Getting a good bead of caulk at the back of the sink is of the utmost importance, because it is, of course, the most likely point of entry for water.

Final connections on the plumbing undersink can be made once the caulk has cured. I usually give caulk 24 hours to set up before attempting this. Note: For me, on this day, I did hook up the plumbing prior to applying the caulk; however, these pics are not included here, because 1. I feel that they might be a little too tangential and 2. they were not really that good.

Bonus Coverage: installing an end cap on a post-form laminate counter
As a guy who tries always to the account for the "what if", I saved the installation of the end cap until after I was absolutely satisfied with the installation of the sink. This procedure, while not necessarily difficult, may require the practice of patience. Note: Instructions for this task can be found right on the back of the end cap packaging.

1. Pre-glued end caps are applied with a household iron -- A matching End Cap product is sold. It contains the required fill blocking and two (left and right) pre-molded end profiles designed to match the laminate. These end caps are have a form of contact cement applied to their backs, and are attached to the counter using a clothes iron.

To start, I usually attach the end cap to the counter with a single piece of masking tape. I do this so the cap doesn't slip as I apply the hot iron to it.

Run the iron over every nanometer of the surface, moving deliberately. Don't linger in any one spot for too long; keep the iron moving. I usually give this surface the iron for two minutes or more. This allows the glue to melt. I come behind quickly with a damn cloth or a sponge. This cools the surface and allows the glue to harden and bond.

As hopefully you can see with the picture at right here, the end cap is sized just larger than the counter itself. The end cap must be shaped to finalize the install.

2. Shape the cap using a file and a sanding block (pretend you are waxing a surfboard) -- As a general rule, I tend to overprotect surfaces. Before I began the finish work on the cap, I made sure to tape off at the top of the counter as to minimize the possibility of scraping on the top of the counter. Shaping an end cap can be a slow and meticulous process. I have tried using power tools for this task, but still see the file (and its partner the sanding block) as the safest and most craftsmen-like option for this job.

I usually alternate between the file and one or two grits of sandpaper. I generally seem to be happier when I am putting a slight bevel on the top edge of the cap. This seems to give it a better finish. I included an additional picture below, the one at right, which includes some products and tools that you may not associate with this job. As you are filing and sanding, glue residue may accumulate where the end cap contacts the counter.

While your finger nail can typical do a pretty good job of cleaning this up, following behind with a straight razor, and some quick evaporating cleaner, like rubbing alcohol, can help this process along. The Sharpie is included in this picture below, because it is perfect when discrete touch ups are needed on a laminated counter. Check out Sharpie's palette when you get a chance and plan ahead, because chances are you'll find a color that will work well with your surface.

Summary -- Anyway, thanks and good luck. I hope this helps.

More Moxie:
Installing a post form countertop: http://www.easy2diy.com/cm/easy/diy_ht_3d_index.asp?page_id=35743498

Essential tool of the trades -- the Sharpie: http://www.sharpie.com/enUS/Home/default.html

Installing a kitchen sink strainer: http://www.askthebuilder.com/Kitchen_Sink_Strainer_Video.shtml

While post form counters are great diy projects, there are actually many more options in laminates available. Here is a great overview: http://www.doityourself.com/stry/laminatecomeback

no tile is an island (Installing a Tile Landing)

2009-03-18T16:32:00.031-04:00

Preparation is 75% of the job
When working in older homes, you must always be conscious of the build up of flooring. As the years pass, it seems, we (in the general sense of collective humanity) always opt to cover old with new. And in this case, I was following the herd, but first I had just a little prep to do.

In our computer room, we had a plywood subfloor that was intact enough. This floor had to be sound enough too. So I went to work with a box of decking screws, and after about an hour, it was. For a little added insurance, and well for some comfort underfoot, I also chose to install a ¼ inch thick Luann as an underlayment, glued and fastened with roofing nails.

You might have read about my Thanksgiving week’s battles with this Luann, but never mind that, I was punched out and ready to go.

In the computer room, we have an exterior door that leads to one of the house’s five porches. While we have oak flooring throughout the house, and now a tiled laundry room floor, we have decided to go with a wall-to-wall carpet here. For me, however, there was no way I could rightly butt carpet up to an exterior door. I was going to start by installing a tiled landing here.

The underlayment down, and with the landing going in, I had to raise the threshold on that exterior door. In this, you find the biggest consideration that must be made when flooring in rooms that spill to the outdoors.

Raising the bar (threshold)
As hinted at above, our farmhouse has five porches, and hence five exterior doors that lead to and from them. Each door on the house is constructed of solid fir, and has been there for a handful of years. The door here that faces the back of the property is 1 and 3/8 inch thick (the thickness of a standard interior door). It is contains 15 beveled panes of glass.

If you are following along at home, you get the significance of this. As the floor level comes up, so must the clearance at the bottom of the door. And thankfully in our case, we have a wood door with which to work. Not only do I have to raise the threshold, but I must shorten the door. And in the case of this job, I will cut it at its bottom.

I am not saying that it is impossible to cut down a metal or a fiberglass door; I am saying that this proposition instead is much easier when you have a wood door to work with. Raising a threshold, I will be frank -- isn’t always an elegant endeavor. In my case, it wasn’t like I was going to dig into the existing door sill. This, more than likely, would have required neat saw cuts, potentially pulling back decking, and replacement, ultimately, with an inferior material.

The step before the step
To raise bottom of the door enough to clear not only the added height of the underlayment and the new floor covering, I had to first calculate how far the threshold must come up. I came up with a working measurement of 1 1/8”. This number was derived by adding:

* ¼” for the thickness of the underlayment,
* 1/8’’ for the leveler I used in adjusting a low spot at the door,
* 1/2” for the tiles’ thickness (including a mortar bed), and
* ¼” for general clearance at the door’s bottom.

Before I set anything in motion however, I did make sure to check for high points in the floor within the arch of the door swing.

This particular door configuration employed what I consider to be an old school weather stripping technique. It couples an adjustable brass (or maybe it is bronze) rail set on the door’s sill with a grooved aluminum flange that, in turn, is rabbeted into and tacked to the bottom of the door. When joined male/female, these parts create a virtual air tight seal.

To give me the elevation off the sill I needed, I found a scrap piece of pressure-treated lumber. I ripped it down to the exact thickness of the door – 1 3/8”, and put a slight bevel on both the inside and outside edge at the top. Because I live in an old house, and because the sill had settled a bit out of level, I had to make two passes at cutting this piece to the height I needed. (There ended up being a full 1/4” difference across the width of a 32” door.) On my second attempt and free-handing on my table saw – I almost nailed it. A little power planer work and I was good to go.

No tile is an island; it’s more like a lily pad
With the build-up to the sill screwed down, the threshold’s rail installed, and the door re-hung, I was finally ready to tackle the tile work. I was using a 12x12 (actual size a little smaller) porcelain tile that I used in the closet, and as part of the border in the adjacent laundry room. It very much had the look of a polished slate. My wife assured me it was going to look stellar here.

To start my layout I found the center point of the door opening and placed a little mark at the base of the door. I then made a corresponding hash on one of the tiles I was using and married it to the mark on the door. Working from that point, I continued to lay out a total of six tiles – two deep and three across. (My wife and I had agreed earlier that this would be an appropriate size for this landing.) I used ¼” tile spacers (the same ones I would use in installation) to ensure my layout was perfectly stepped.

In an old house, and I confirmed this earlier when installing my Luann, walls are not necessarily always square. I had this in mind of course, so to check myself, I pulled some quick measurements off the wall immediately opposite the exterior door. It turned out that the distance between that wall and the edge of my landing was off by approximately 3/8”across the width of the 36” pad.

Ok. So what’s the adjustment? Well, as you often have to do in an old house, I eyeballed. I sited the island from the laundry room doorway, I sat in my chair here at the computer (yeah the island I speak of is sitting about four feet away from me right now). I stepped back and looked at it from the doorway of the adjacent dining room. “Hell,” I said – no one will ever notice that minor irregularity. As long as the tile landing is squared with the exterior door, I’m good to go. I grabbed the pencil from behind my ear and marked out some thick lines around its perimeter.

Tripped up at the step
One last hurdle to overcome. I had talked earlier about built up flooring. Well, guess what? In an old house, you sometimes need to deal with built up wall surfaces as well. In this particular room, and I know this from working previously on the electrical fixtures here, there was a ½” wallboard hidden discretely behind our ¾” floor to ceiling paneling. The end result, of course, a slight recess in the wall at the exterior doorway.

Now, how to address this? I dabbled with a few ideas. First, and intermittently mingled trips to Facebook, I neatly notched the outside tiles of the first course, and set them in place. I stood back and looked. Did I like this? The answer, “No.” Ok, so I wasted a couple tiles here, but oh well, sometimes it is worth it to make that visual in your head all that much more real.

Next, I toyed with the idea of a wood filler here. How about the scrap oak that came off the saddle threshold I installed a few weeks earlier? No, that wouldn’t work; it would simply be too tall at 1 1/8 inch. How about piece of scrap pt? Nope – too Spartan.

I had some marble thresholds lying in the garage, so I walked down this path a bit. I ripped a long strip on my budget wet saw, and set that in place. I surveyed again. . . “Ah, I don’t know.” It just didn’t look right. It came up a little too high at the bottom of the door, and in reality, it just added another place to trip.

So I simplified. I had some 4x4 ceramic left over from the border in the laundry. I decided to cut these into thirds and set them in place right at the sill. They looked marvelous. They fit surprisingly well with the slated porcelain, and there was no change in elevation at the door.

Trimming the island
Let’s not forget that we need to butt carpet up to this tiled landing. Through the years, I have seen this done in various ways, and to be honest, some of these have been far less than elegant. So in preparation for this moment, and actually several weeks in advance, I had the foresight to ask the question of my tile supplier. And his answer was, “Use a squared off joint spacer.”

“Sweet,” I thought. I already had a ten-foot strip of this material on hand. It was brass. While I do tend to shy away from bright brass finishes for several reasons, it was free, so I was using it. I was going to encase the perimeter of my landing with this material.

To work the joint spacer, I cut it with my miter saw. Any good carbide blade loaded into a chop saw can handle these types of materials. I thought briefly about mitering the corners, but because of the miter saw’s tendency to tear out when working with metal, I shied away from it. I instead did a butt joint at the corners. I made sure to extend the most high profile edge, that visual from the dining room doorway, over the others.

I will point out that these corners probably would have finished a little more nicely if they were mitered, but in this case, and knowing that carpet would creep up its face, I decided to move on.

Inspection and installation
I assembled the whole thing and had my wife in for a look. After a brief objection over the brass edging, I got approval, and was good to go with installation. I pulled the tile up and proceeded to install it as I would with any other floor tile.

I had about a third of a bucket of pre-mixed thin-set mortar lying around. Despite my aversion to using pre-mixed batter anywhere, my frugalness took hold and I simply went for it. I slapped the mortar down with a margin trowel and then followed quickly behind with a ½” square-notched trowel. I made sure to stay neatly within my working lines, and just like that was done with my mortar bed. I dropped my tile in place and quickly finished with my edge.

A couple quick taps with a rubber mallet, I made sure to flush up the corners of my tile. I checked to make sure my spacers were in perfect placement, and I finished by giving the whole assembly one big squeeze. I then dropped a 2-foot level on top. Perfect, I am happy.

The whole process setting my tile and the cut spacer took about 25 minutes or about 25% of the total time on this job. I will return in the near future to finish with the same epoxy-fortified grout I used in the laundry room.

More Moxie:

Overview of Door Sills (& How to Replace): http://www.lowes.com/lowes/lkn?action=howTo&p=Improve/ReplaceThreshold.html

Jolly Joint Spacers (Working with Tile Edging): http://www.tilesecurity.com/home.php?cat=24

a textured ceiling helped me find myself on a map

2009-02-17T10:01:00.022-05:00

My apologies for the poorly lighted photos, but it is the best I can do on my salary.

Sometimes you detour before you even hit the road
Sooooooo the time in the program came when we had to address the office ceiling. The ceiling as it was had been finished with a fibrous wall board, a panelized product made of compressed fibers. My only hope was that this product was picked to provide added insulation and, well, that it did not contain asbestos. It had been installed many years ago.

As always, I explored some options – some with my wife – but in the end decided that I would simply skim coat the 7x12 area, and we then would finish it with a textured paint. The skim coating went as well as planned. As we had done this in other locations in this house, I hit it with two coats of lightweight compound, the second drastically thinned.

Monday morning, President’s Day, and as my wife is my painter, we decided that she would work on the ceiling. It just made sense; my upcoming goals include finishing the office flooring.

We were not that familiar with textured surfaces. There was a heavy textured swirl on the some the ceilings of our last house; in our current house, we had a stipple in a few rooms. So from those angles, it worked. I had a good bit of experience with knock-down spray texture (thanks to the builders of the early ‘90s) but otherwise, we had only ever done one other textured surface, again a ceiling. But that time, it was a sanded effect. With that, you add the product to some paint and just roll it on.

I bought the right product, briefly skimmed the instructions, and mixed up a test batch. And it was time for my wife and me to convene. The girls, with Mom and Dad home and no school this day were beginning to act up, but nonetheless we held our planning meeting.

And sometimes the detour is far more scenic
I can’t say that I know everything. I can’t say when it comes to home improvement that I can do everything. And I admit, as much as it makes me want to grind my teeth, I may be nothing more than a weekend warrior.

You have heard a little bit about the daughters, Evyn and Eva, five and three, and the wife, who while she is an active and sometimes busy real estate agent, does a pretty good job of holding down a full time job as Mommy. I have a full time job too.

We bought this house, as we seem to buy all our houses, on a whim. And it has been quite overwhelming at times. It is a project, and while many of my peers seem to buy houses that don’t quite require as much maintenance, we welcomed the challenge. Sometimes we embrace it; other times, and let me be frank, it feels like it has ruined our lives.

While other folks spend weekends picking up, you know doing normal household upkeep stuff; it seems that we instead are doing home improvement. We get great satisfaction out of it most of the time. Sometimes, though, typically after an unnecessary meltdown, we do have to step back together, and realize that what we are doing, what we have done, only helps to build a strong family. I mean, after about 10 years, we actually have some net worth. At 38. Good, right?

And while we still do plenty of things with the girls, including involving them to some degree in our home projects; I think in the end they know why we do what we do. Even though, we do have to put them off sometimes.

And sometimes even the detour has some potholes
The office ceiling: you may have noticed this highlighted in the side bar for the last couple weeks. It was one of those things. It was one task that I wanted to take the short way towards. I mean, come on, why does anyone put texture on a ceiling. . .other than to take the short route with drywall finishing and/or to hide something?

I set my wife up with the test mix, grabbed her a couple of pieces of scrap drywall, and we met so she could practice. I told her what I envisioned. She proceeded to lay the drywall out on the floor and began going to town. Starting with a three inch brush, he covered the entire surface, and then she began to play.

She started with zig zags, first, short stroked then longer. That looked awesome. But we discussed it, it would be difficult to keep that pattern uniform across the entire length of the ceiling, even with working lines. So we scrapped it. Next she tried swirls, I liked it. After a little more discussion, we decided that that was the ticket.

Done, discussed, decided. . .detour
“Ok, Babe. Have at it, I am going to take the girls out to the playground,” I said.

She replies, “But wait.” “You’re not going anywhere. I know how you are,” and here it comes, “You’re not even happy with your own work; you are not leaving me here to do something I have never tried. I don’t care if they are in there killing each other. . .you are staying right here until I at least get some of this ceiling done.”

Yeah, I don’t know. Her words caused me, right at that moment in time, to snap. I mean, I have no idea what I said, and that probably doesn’t really matter, but it was how I said it. And it wasn’t nice.

I just wanted her to make something happen without me just once. Don’t get me wrong, she does a lot, but as the construction manager on this job, I usually have to at least help her get set up, e.g., tell her where primer, drop clothes, etc. are. I said, “Can’t you just make it good. And get it done?”

So a fair share words were exchanged, and there we were. I mixed up a full batch, Polly Pockets spread over every inch of the living room in the mean time, and she did a trial for me. Using a thick napped roller, she applied my special textured blend to the ceiling. And then, she swirled.

Some roads are rockier than others
Let me step back. I had all but removed myself this Monday; the wife was gonna paint and I was going to keep the girls out of her hair. That said, while I thought about sanding off the ceiling that I had skim coated, I decided against it. We were already using this room as an office/computer room, and hey, we were going to apply a textured finish – it would hide any imperfections, right? We discussed it and we didn’t even prime (Not the point of the article, but we probably should have).

As her sample coat went on, and with the texture still sitting near the top of the mix, it went on fairly heavy. And swirls were working out well. But it, the technique, as it was, wasn’t really hiding the imperfections enough. We discussed some more, this time a little more nicely, and we decided that she did need to sand off the rest of ceiling a little.

And I was cleared to take the girls. So I did, as her test strip, ending abruptly about 3 feet from the laundry room wall, sat there drying.

Going the down the road feeling bad
There I was on my way, with the girls, heading out. We eventually ended up at McD’s on this glorious day. In their “Fun Land,” it was fun. They had a marvelous time, and I read the paper. I have to admit though, I lingered a little on my house, all the work I need to do, and the interaction that went on just less than an hour ago. “I’m a freak,” I thought. “Am I really that hard to please?”

I believe especially when it comes to houses that it’s always the whole over the part, if you know what I mean. No one is looking at the perfection of texturing technique; they are looking to see rather that you have a home office. And we do. So I let go a little, but still reflect. Do I really project like she says? I have tile floor, and please remind me to tell you about it one day, that I am not super happy about, but generally – I think in this case I would have been pretty happy with anything.

Some say don’t use the cell phone while you’re driving
So I get the call. “How’d it turn out?” I ask. She says, “Pretty good, except for one thing. . . .Do you want me to tell you?” I said, “No.”

We closed down Fun Land that afternoon, and as I made my way home, I remained pensive. What awaited me?

Back on track, the final destination
So I walked into the office, and looked up. Wow, it looks fantastic; I can’t really see any of the imperfections in my drywall. “Do you see it?” she asked.

And first I couldn’t. And then there it was, as pavers would call it, “a cold joint”. You see, when pavers are paving, if the asphalt isn’t delivered in enough time to do the pour in one shot, it creates a very noticeable, and undesirable, seam in the work. And that’s what it was. A seam right were she had stopped her test run to sand off the ceiling. Man, I really screwed her, I thought.

She set me straight real quick, though, and in her positive way, she says, “Can’t you sand that off, and work to blend it in a little more?” I said, “Well, do you have more texture?” She said, “A ton.” And I said, “Sure.”

The "cold joint" can be seen faintly at the bottom of the picture above.

Man, a GPS system would be nice
I know that was a lot of words just to tell you about our 7x12 textured ceiling, and I really did milk this driving parallel, but I learned some lessons that day:

When using an admix texture product, make sure to keep the texture mixed with the paint throughout the process of applying it. Apply the paint evenly. (You can notice some pitting in the ceiling, spots where the maybe the coverage of the texture was not as good as it could have been.) And do it in one pass, regardless of what is going on around you.

Now, chances are most anyone that has found their way to this piece, was looking for just that information, right above. But hey, bigger lessons in here. . . .

Zero, know thyself.
One, as much you try, you can’t always remove yourself from your past actions.
Two, there is personality, or more than one, associated with every home project.
Three, it is only a house.
Four, and final, your wife and your kids are far more important than item three above; that work can not be undone.

As always, thanks for reading; I will keep you abreast

2.19 -- Jenny, my wife, sanded off the "cold joint" yesterday; it took her about 15 minutes. She applied touch up to the ceiling and it looks perfect.

More Moxie
Litex Wall Texture: http://www.litexinc.com/ & http://www.litexinc.com/PDF/WallTexData.PDF

An overview of texturing techniques (as always from first page google results): http://www.onlinetips.org/drywall-texturing-techniques

Pocketless Door Experiment (Part 3 of 3)

2009-02-13T11:01:00.010-05:00

click to see part 1 of this post
click to see part 2 of this post

Now, don’t get me wrong. . .
I do know who I really work for. I told my wife what I was going to try. We discussed pros and cons, and I did get approval.

As I have hinted at this several times previously, I am really not sure if this kind of set up has ever been attempted. So picking up where I left off, I am standing and staring at it a little. Will this work out?

I knew going in there was going to be a second area of difficulty, the plinth blocks. In my bathroom, again 5/4 board, routered with a forty-five degree on three sides. The variation in depth here not only adds visual interest, but also makes the wood’s tendency to expand and contract over the years a lot less noticeable.

But there you have it, another 3/8 inch protrusion at the door frame. What could I do? I could rip out the plinth blocks and alter the trim, I could add a 3/8 inch edge to all but the lower inches of the door panel, or I could try for something a little different.

The power of visualization
I start by the cutting the door to the correct height and set it in place. I then swing my rollers over to the top of the door. I notice that I am going to have an issue with what I have done already; I was not going to be able to mount my pivoting assembly to the top the door. The height of things wouldn’t allow for it.

I didn’t kick myself too much, though, for not selecting a wider header or for cutting the door down this early in the process. I knew beforehand I would be adding some girth to the door panel. You see, I was going to have to swing my rollers to the far side of the door.

Again with the impulse
Not liking the options as they presented themselves, I remembered what my co-worker said, and the impulse came again. Could I make this thing slip down into the opening? What would I have to do to make this happen? Cut the door down to fit into the opening, of course. Since it involved a cut, I marinated on it a little.

I mean, what could it hurt? What is my back up plan? Well, in this case, even though I have time invested and a built-up header screwed to the wall, my secondary options continued to be the more traditional, hinged installation. For these, I’d have to cut the door down anyway, so I did.

The next decision that needed to be made: how exactly I was going to attach my rig to the door. Based on the way that everything was falling in line, I knew I was going to have to mount the plates on the far side, or the inside, of the door. There were issues however with the “frame” of my rigs; it couldn’t reach too far over the door’s top edge. Time and space wouldn’t allow it.

With some very exacting eyeballed measurements, I determined I needed a block that was approximately 2 ½” thick. But what kind of stock could give me that kind of thickness?

I checked both major home centers, and it would figure the one farthest away had the goods. A 3x3x36 (actually 2 ½ by 2 ½) piece of poplar was perfect, and I grabbed a handful of carriage bolts. I mean, I was going to attach this block to the door to pad it out, and if I did – it was going live there forever.

Hanging the door
I started by attaching the bottom of my rig to the far outside edge of my block (I had since bolted the poplar block to the door panel). It required a little strength, a steady hand, and pre-drilled holes. I made sure not to fill all the holes in the bracket, just in case I needed to make an adjustment. Then, there it was, hanging. I slid the entire assembly down toward the door opening. Wow, it is operating very smoothly.

I notice very quickly that my cap molding, detailed in the last post, is acting as a built-in guide. But having attached the brackets to the far side of the door, it had become tilted out of balance. It was pitching inward toward the bath just that slightly.

The door was no longer centered directly below the rollers. Some adjustments were in order. I had to un-hang my hung door.
Equal and opposite
One thing you learn rather quickly when working with doors is that it seems you often end up doing the opposite of what you are trying to accomplish. What I mean is, say for example you have a hinged door and you are setting it in an opening, and you want the door to move up; well, then you have to move the hinges down.

I want the door to hang perfectly perpendicular to the floor, so what do I need to do if the door is tilting inward into the bath? The answer: move the rollers back toward the wall. As a little added insurance, I also picked up a flat bar. I cut down a 2-inch wide piece of galvanized steel and screwed it to the outside of the door. It helped balance things out just that much more.

I reassembled the set-up and now it hung again, but this time perfectly.
Operating the door
With everything back together, I tested it some more. I slid it back and forth to and from the opening. Looking pretty good, but I did not notice it wasn’t quite squared up with the wall along which it hung.

Working it back and forth like a bobsled team getting ready to begin their run, I then slid it down to the opening, and dropped in it. Whoa! The base of the door is kicking back into the bath pretty good. This is going to be problem. Nonetheless, I push it down into the opening. Pretty good fit, but the one side is not sitting quite flush.

To fix this, and again the equal and opposite law of doors applies, I moved my mounting brackets back and forth by fractions of inches to ensure that everything was right in alignment. To be honest, this process did take much more time than I would have hoped. But with everything in order and hanging just as I wanted, I took another stab at dropping it into the opening. Perfect.

If I give it a little push at the bottom with my foot and tug at the brackets at the top, success. I know; that is a little troubling.

Nonetheless, I have a few ideas.

Inspections
At this point, I had been in the “cat bathroom” (as my girls sometimes call it) a good part of that Saturday. What did they think? “Cool” they said, as they slid the door back and forth on its track. They liked it. Great.

But we all know, their inspection really doesn’t account for much. Shortly behind came the big boss, my wife. She stepped into the bathroom and with one look, there it was a look on her face I knew -- she hated it. So I said, “What? You knew I was going to do this.”

So after of a few seconds of hesitation, she let it fly. “I hate it.” My response, “Why?”

Then she continued, “Because it doesn’t fit. It looks like something you’d find in an auto body shop.” I mean at this point I couldn’t stop her, “You took my dainty little bathroom, and you add this big, industrial looking thing in it. I don’t like it. It doesn’t fit. Why didn’t you just do a normal door? This is something you would see in a row home in Canton. Not here; this house is Victorian.”

After it was all out, I got some words in, “But . . . we discussed this; I told you I thought if I could pull it off. It really would be pretty different and cool. . . .Something to write about.”

What’s next?
Now this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me.

Not only did I have a few challenges to overcome. But we, wife and I, were at an impasse. By my wife’s account, I am not moving any more forward with this.

Plus, I needed my swiveling rigs to pivot when I wanted them to pivot. I needed to have some way to push and/or pull on the bottom of the door. (Yeah, I was a little concerned about how the track and rollers would hold up against this “unnatural” lateral movement. But believe it or not, they seemed to be working perfectly under these newly added stresses.) And . . . I needed a way to latch the door into its place.

What do you do when this happens? For me, I have learned. At this point, it is an easy decision. Let it sit. And move onto the next project.

Not the last you will hear from me on this
I have some ideas. I am convinced that this set up is going to work (I won’t tell you because I don’t want to blow all the suspense at this point).

I did wake up this morning with a few new thoughts in my head. I’d probably need to provide instructions with the operation of this door. And you know what? It will probably be difficult for my young daughters to operate. Yikes!

I could always roll back, pad the door, and allow it to hang simply over the opening. I could scrap the whole thing and return to my original plan, and do a mini-French set-up.

I don’t know, my point is – for everyone’s sake, it is time to let it sit. My feeling with this is, and it may sound a little corny, but only time will tell me my best course of action moving forward.

But I won’t dwell on it. I didn’t make any mistakes; I just tried something a little outside the box. Would you have?

And I am not the only one in my house I need to please. So, with that said, I move onto some drywall work as I wait for the gods of home improvement to point the way.

I will follow-up with you on this when I know more.

More Moxie:
What is a carriage bolt? http://www.thefreedictionary.com/carriage+bolt

Pocketless Door Experiment (2 of 3)

2009-02-06T12:30:00.010-05:00

How I roll and swivel
Now that I have you up to speed on me, my wife, my house, and how I think most of the time, I’d like to tell you a little bit about what I did in my powder room last weekend.

As mentioned in the last post, my plan for the powder room door had me installing a mini-French door set-up. (You might have noticed my note about this internal debate in my weekly notes found in the right side bar.) This plan got derailed, however, after I saw the fine cinematic production, “Baby Mama.”

There are a few shorter scenes towards the front end of this movie that show the bathroom in main character’s apartment. While some were comedic, I instead focused on the door. In her bath there, and only in one brief scene, was a wall-hung or pocketless door.

What is pocketless door?
Now it’s not like I haven’t seen them. Essentially, a pocketless door is a pocket door without a pocket. While a pocket door in tucked back and hidden in the wall framing, a pocketless door, on the other hand, is hung on a track from the ceiling or mounted to a wall. In this configuration, they are also sometimes known as “barn doors.”

The hardware you find at the home center for this installation is not that different from what you find for sliding closet doors. Most closet doors are paired, hence, two tracks and two sets of rollers. With the product that I bought, a Pocket Sliding Door Assembly, it allows for an “along the wall” installation.

Instructions and my half bath
As always, I read over the instructions. There was a good bit of general layout information. They were fairly thorough. Step #4 read like this, “Along the wall door application: Door panel needs to measure the finished opening width plus 1” (25mm). Sure, fine, I can handle this. But not surprisingly, there was no detail on what I would encounter in my installation.

As mentioned in my last post , I had installed a cap on top of a salvaged 7/8’’ thick wainscot (a form of paneling usually adorning only the lower portions of a wall). When I say cap, what I mean in this case, is that I molded the long edge of 1x stock and laid it flat at the top of the wainscot paneling. Doing this allowed me to transition neatly around the window in the bath.
While adding little extra depth and interest to the wall treatment, it did cause the wall surface to finish roughly 1” beyond my flat door trim.

The first hurdle
At this point, I was squarely fixated on the idea of trying to do a pocketless. I carried this around with me; I knew I had this hurdle to deal with. If I installed the door along the wall, when it passed in front of the door opening it still would come to rest a good 1” from being sealed tight. This, I figured, was not desirable in an oft used powder room.

So I carried it around some more. Would there be a way for me to pivot or swivel a pocketless door as it glides? In usual fashion, I began seeking out possible solutions. A couple quick Google searches revealed no hardware specifically designed for this application (though I still felt that some point somewhere it gets done). Had anyone been blogging about this, or could I find it on a home improvement site somewhere? I don’t know. At this point however, I had given over and was dedicated to making this thing work.

I discussed it briefly with a fellow at work. He too has a house he’s fixing up and we sometimes discuss doors. Now, not that my mind wasn’t already wandering here, he says to me, “You know what would be cool . . . if you could make the door glide, swivel and then suck down into the opening.” I mean, bam, if it hadn’t been on the table already, it certainly was then.

Where there is a will, there is a way
Again, how could I make a swivel work? So I set aside some time, as I sometimes do, for a visit to the home center. On these trips, I just go and spend some quality time.

What would the options be? I checked near the hinges first, and then I combed the area around the mending plates. Then, I passed the castors toward the top of the aisle. You know, castors, those little wheels you mount to boxes or other things that you want to make a little more movable.

Some were fixed to allow only for rolling in one direction, others, however, pivoted a full 360 degrees. Those that rotate are set on a series of ball bearings that allow them to swivel. My instinct, of course, was to shoot for “the smaller the better.” When I took a closer look at these, I noticed that their wheels were pinned in place and not removable. No Good.

So I move a few bins up the aisle. And there they were, shining like the sun, two-inch castors with racing wheels. Sure I liked the way they looked. They were pretty sporty, but this wasn’t the only reason that they caught my eye. You see, they were sturdy, and they had removable wheels. Only a tiny nut held the axle in place.

As I stand there for a few minutes, it comes to me: why couldn’t I take two sets of these things, oppose them, and attach them together. This way I could hang them, and they could be mounted on flat surfaces. They would pivot at least 180 degrees, which is what I knew I needed.

Building bridges
Ok, with that figured out, I was going to need a way to attach my pivoting assemblies to the hangers (the hardware with the rollers). I figured I could do this with a wooden block. In this case, as I always have scrap on hand, I picked a piece of five quarter (5/4”) board (actual thickness 1 1/8th inches). The 3/4” screws provided, and I always use the screws provided, would have surely poked through your typical 1x. So this was the way to go.

I would attach the hangers to the top of the wooden block and the rigged-up assembly to the bottom. The entire assembly measured a good five inches in height when completed. It pivots in its full range of motion for the top castor’s center points-- approximately 1 ½”.

Hanging the track
This assembly would allow my sliding door to hang unobstructed beyond the one-inch projection of my cap molding. Check. But now that I finally held the contraption I visualized in my hand, I realized I would need a good bit of clearance.

As I revisit the instructions for the hardware here, I notice the track must be mounted at minimum of an inch and three quarters above the door panel. My instincts tell me here that I could probably give myself just a little bit more wiggle room.

Time for some math; I need the distance from the bottom edge of my rig (I knew that I should allow the panel to overlap the opening a little) to the top of my mounting block, plus a little more than 1 and ¾ inches. Right now, I can’t remember what that dimension ended up being, but I knew because of the hanger’s adjustability that I would probably have a little bit of room to play with.

Building a header, and the point of no return approaches
As the pictures will hopefully illustrate, I used a unique trim layout throughout this area. Without going into too much detail here, I routered a cove in the inside edge of 1x stock. I then used this molding set on thicker plinth blocks to make up the legs of my door trim.

At the header, however, I took a discreetly ripped 1x4, and ran it all the way around the room at header height. (I ripped the 1x4 down to help keep a sense of scale with the wainscot.) The header trim had a top edge of about 78”.

With the top edge of my head trim finishing here, only appropriately 3 ¼ inches above the door opening, I knew I would have to build it up some (as the instructions did suggest). I was going to need a header board placed above my head trim. And it might need to be just a tad thicker as to assist with the clearing of my cap molding.

For this, I choose again a piece of 5/4 board. I took this, and ripped it down into two pieces one 2 ¼” wide and the other 1 1/8” wide. (I lost an eighth of inch off the total thickness to the kerf of my saw blade.) I then glued and nailed the resulting pieces in a step fashion. This stepped header would give me a place to conceal the track, the height and overhang that I would need, as well as enough meat to screw through into the wall.

I slapped it on top my casing, check it; it looked good. So I screwed to the framing. I dropped my roller assemblies into place and then stopped to think.

Time for some tests.

Please see last and maybe not so final installment of this piece coming next week.

More Moxie:
Johnson Hardware (note the header on this page): http://www.johnsonhardware.com/wmindex.htm

The Pocketless Door Experiment (1 of 3)

2009-01-24T21:33:00.029-05:00

The backstory
I end up getting a lot of questions about this: "How did you learn to do home improvement?" And more often than not, my answer starts with. . . "Well, long story. . . ."

First off, I really have never learned how to do home improvement; I am certainly not a tradesman. I mean, I think even for those highly specialized professionals out there, do you really ever fully learn how to do anything? Home improvement, like everything else, is an ongoing process of building knowledge and learning. (Notice the present participle.)

Sure, I had a grandfather that was very handy, I worked with a general contractor for a couple of years, I spent some time with a production builder, and I have actually done some remodeling work professionally.

While I have had the opportunity to learn from some skilled individuals, I can really only attribute what I know to two things. Trying and Doing.

When we bought the farm
When my wife and I bought the carpenter-style farmhouse a few years back, did we really know what we were getting into? No. It's true; we knew virtually nothing of its insides, and, well, we knew even less about its history.

It turns out, this house, in Baltimore's Lauraville area, was built in 1889. Living locally, we had admired it for several years. We would pass by it on long walks with our dog, Gia. We knew it had been abandoned for a few years running then. And as dabblers in both real estate and renovations, we felt for its lack of love. So when it came on the market, we jumped at the chance.

The backstory (cont.)
A couple other things that you should probably know about me and my habits:

I am pretty much a traditionalist. What I mean is I usually let the style of the house dictate what I should do in certain situations. I always make an effort to match new work to details that may remain elsewhere. While I am conscious of style, I am also always mindful of materials and finishes, and the cost of all.

As my wife would surely point out, being a traditionalist, however, can be an albatross. At times, especially when working on older homes, it can be difficult to adhere to a certain sense of historical correctness. That is, at least without blowing a boatload of cash.

I love to reuse things; that is, I am a proponent of something I call smart salvage. It really is a relative term though. What I mean, I always ask myself, “What would it take in time and money to purchase this or that material new?” “What kind of time will it take me to save this or that and will it be worth the effort?”

“Will I see the character, will my visitors see the character, and, most importantly, will the next perspective buyer see the character?”

That said, and as much I try to respect my wife’s wishes (I mean, as much as I try to fight it), I usually end up on the wrong side of the restoration battle, choosing the long way on more things than I’d like.

When we bought the farm (cont.)
I should point out that my wife, Jennifer Ingool, is a real estate agent. So when this place hit the market, and with our renovations nearly complete at our last property, we were able to make a move quickly. We knew this place was special, but how special, we would soon find out.

Now, I am not talking about poltergeist special or anything like that, but as the story of this property started to unfold, we (well, I really should say I) decided that we had to be somewhat true to its history.

It turns out that this house was originally home to a dairy farm that encompassed ten city acres. It is the second oldest house on our street. A large outbuilding was the original home of a cabinetmaker, and later, the original location for a now defunct operation called Saks (sp?) Lumber. It has character, and well, it contains a lot of wood.

As these facts were revealed to us, it explained a lot. The house was built (at least as far as I can tell) in three parts.

I have to tell you, though, its heyday had long been forgotten. Cast iron and/or brass eagles had replaced decorative finales, door knockers, and I don’t know what else.

You see, I am a big fan of timeless style. And all the eagles certainly helped date the not-so-recent renovations.

A lamb in sheep’s clothing
While I do call myself a traditionalist, I have to admit; at times I struggle with this property. Built in stages beginning in 1889, this house is pretty Victorian.

While my wife and my mother-in-law completely love it, I can’t say that my feelings are the same. I respect it, but it is really not my taste. I guess this may come from being a guy. But my sense of style leans more to the straight and simple lines of the Craftsman movement and at times flirts with all things more modern.

Is home improvement really a little bit like a surfing?
I do things. And that’s what I do.

What I mean, for me, home improvement is 50% know-how and 50% sheer will. I always try to remember a simple sentiment that one of my former bosses, Mark Silver, used to tell me. “Home improvement is not brain surgery,” he would say.

And maybe one of the most beautiful things about working on your own house is that it’s usually ok to make mistakes, and most all things can be undone. But trust me; I don’t go at things blindly. I usually have that thought tucked somewhere in the back of my head. I am always sure to leave myself a little room to wiggle.

That said, I do tend, at times, to leap before I look. I can be lazy with research, unless someone is paying me to do it. I often times just try things. Things I probably wouldn’t try on other folks’ houses. I try to be slick and cut corners if I can, but only if it won’t affect the end product.

This is all especially true now that I have begun thinking about this in terms of a business. I mean, I could blog about installing a simple pre-hung door, for example. But hey, that may not be interesting enough for these pages.

The half bath and a doorway
Early on, and you may have read already about this, I gutted the half bath.

It was in bad shape. It had taken a good bit of water damage. The full bath, you see, is stacked immediately above it, and it appears that the tub/shower had been leaking for years.

So when we had a dumpster on site, I tore it out. I peeled back layers of wall finish to reveal partition framing covered with a black, hairy growth. Not that the smell hadn’t been tipping me off already, I found mold –- and lots of it. So I pulled the framing out too.

There it was –- a completely gutted half bath. And then, staring at it, the planning began. I noticed almost immediately, and remembered as anyone would have, that the full-sized hinged door was bumping the toilet when it was swung fully open.

I ruled that out almost instantly. The cast iron closet flange (the plumbing apparatus that your toilet sits on) was in good shape – I wasn’t going to mess with that. I was not going to move the toilet. After all, I do like making things somewhat easy on myself, sometimes.

I decided instead to adjust the door framing, and/or I would simply modify the door slightly.

When I finally re-framed the opening, I made a conscious effort to shrink it a little. Later, I would know to choose an elongated compact toilet over a full-size rounded one. But still, those things would not affect my plan.

You see, I was going to take the existing door and cut it in half to make a more elegant mini-French.

And that was my plan, until. . .
We roughed the bath in with new plumbing lines and new electric. I re-routed some of the copper tubes associated with the baseboard heating, installed ventilation, and re-framed the opening. I added an extra layer of rigid insulation before installing the drywall on the outside wall.

I made my own trim and used a unique trim layout. I did this so that I could incorporate a wainscot that I had salvaged, with the help of friend, from the un-insulated basement ceiling. This material was old. It had a nominal thickness of 7/8 inch (a little thicker than the ¾ inch stock I was using to make my moldings).

Because of the way I had to finish at the window, it was necessary, in my eyes, to install a cap at the top of the wainscot. And this cap protrudes a good 1 ¼ inches from the wall surface.

While the cap on my paneling wasn’t really an issue within my original plan, it became an issue after I watched the movie, “Baby Mama.”

Not that Tina Fey or anything else about the movie inspired me. I was in the 23rd hour; the only thing left in the powder room was my door. But I saw it, in her bathroom, in her expertly selected Manhattan apartment, a wall-hung or pocketless door.

And this is how this experiment came into being.
Please look for Part 2, Coming Soon

More Moxie

For your real estate needs in the Baltimore area: http://jenniferingool.lnfre.com/

A shout to "Baby Mama": http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0871426/

DTV is Coming

2008-12-13T20:24:00.025-05:00

For my grandmother, god love her, it might as well be the apocalypse
Notes from the week of December 8th

I'd have to say the weekly calls started about 10 weeks ago. I'd pick up the phone most nights late, after I was already into the nightly routine with the girls. "Jaaaaaay," she would say, "when are you going to have time to look at my TV, you know my TV won't work soon, and . . . .” Now, notice how I say "weekly calls". She actually started calling me about this, I don't know, in early May.

You see, for an 89-year-old woman living alone, TV is a pretty essential part of her day. And the thought that there was going to be a change, for reasons she really didn't understand, it was enough to lose a couple nights of sleep over. While I never was dismissive about it, I did gently brush it aside. I mean, come on, I knew it wasn't supposed to go down until early next year. We had time.

For whom the bell tolls
It's sad but true. I still haven't gotten to those doors at my house that I so critically need to do. Instead, little things just seem to keep getting in the way.

As you should know, last week much of my time was spent making sure that the heating unit was up and running at our apartment. (click here to see what I am talking about.) This week, it's just been little things around here: replaced some lamps in my wife's car, removed a window air conditioner, ran down to the apartment for a bunk electrical outlet, and replaced some burnt out under-cabinet fluorescents in the kitchen.

But also, I did it; I scheduled it for this weekend, the ultimate honey-do. I was going over to Gram's to take a look at her DTV converter box.

Grown men
Mind you, my mom's boyfriend, plus my Gram's brother had already been down to take a crack at hooking these things up. Their conclusions:" These boxes are defective." So, needless to say my Gram was really counting on me to make something happen.

With a little foresight, I knew enough to ask my Gram for the specs – the instructions that came in the box that held the box. Through my wife, she got them to me. Before my scheduled visit, I was going to take the time to see what was up.

I dialed up some information online. In a nutshell, and as I understand it, it appears that TV stations, mandated by the federal government, are going to cease analog transmission of their signals on February 17th of next year. You see, Homeland Security, or some other government agency, wants to claim that spectrum, using those frequencies so they can build out a more robust "Emergency Broadcast System".

So what does that mean, "cease analog transmission"? Well, for my Gram using an older TV paired with a "through-the-air" antenna, she would be out of luck. She would either need to purchase newer digitally-equipped TVs, begin subscribing to a premium service such as cable or satellite, or she would need to install these converter boxes.

And the written instruction
I am certainly no multimedia guy. Never was in the A/V club at school; don't have the funds to do any sort of elegant set-up at home; but hell, I can hook up a DVD player. That said, I have to admit, and after a little light reading, I was a little nervous about this one. I mean, two grown men, smart guys, had already taken a crack and failed. So, what exactly was this going to entail?

I pulled up the Support folder at Jasco Products (a subsidiary of GE) and checked out the FAQs for the product she had purchased, the "Digital Converter Box 22730.” In almost all cases, the last line of action for all things troubleshooting was - "Try adjusting the antenna." “Great,” I thought. I was going to have to climb up on the roof (I am sure they didn't do that), and adjust the antenna.

The ultimate honey-do
Going into Saturday I knew enough to try to clear as much of my schedule as possible. And I have to admit, I was kinda looking forward to spending some time with my Gram.

Saturday came with a total of three tasks: make the converter boxes work, install a "Telemergency" telephone (actually a very cool little product for a woman of her age), and hang a new vanity mirror in her bathroom. Nothing too complicated, but, you know, troubleshooting electronics can take time.

So using my head, I set my priorities and decided to tackle the TV in the living room first. Having read the instructions and following the little "Ikea" diagram in the manual, I quickly made the connections. I set the little switch on the back of the box, turned the TV to Channel 3 and guess what? That little thing went to converting. It started scanning for signals, and a full three minutes later, it was done. Most all of the TV channels that she once had, in fact, all but your budget-challenged PBS stations, were identified and coming across crystal clear.

For such a snappy title, I was really hoping for a better story than this
I mean, it was that easy. Hook it up, plug it in, turn it on, and set the box and TV to Channel 3. That little piece of equipment just did the rest.

Ok, it doesn't make for a great story. But I do find the desire to highlight a couple of points that this article should gently suggest.

First, Take the Time to Make the Time. (Or is that Make the Time to Take the Time?)

Second, I learned early on - you need to respect "instructions." You read 'em all (well, at least skim them) until you understand "the story." Then and only then, proceed through the steps. I mean, there is someone out there that gets paid pretty decent money to assemble these things. And guess what? You paid for them, the cost included in your product purchases. So use them.

Third, some guys (and gals too), it seems, can't get their heads around point two. They can't seem to check it at the door. I mean, everyone's life would be a lot easier, sometimes, if you (general) just stopped and simply read or asked for directions.

The PS
I left that Saturday feeling I accomplished everything I set out to do. My Gram was happy and I don't mean to throw anyone under the bus.

I did, still, get a call yesterday; "Jaaaaaaay", the voice on the other line said. ". . . ." And I said, "Gram, you need to keep your TV on Channel 3. Except for turning the TV on, you need to forget that remote exists."

And here lies the issue. It wasn't necessarily the conversion to Digital TV, in and of itself, that was the challenge. It was something even simpler.

They just couldn't set their heads aside long enough to believe that, yes, all the channels now will be coming through Channel 3. In this one case, they couldn't give themselves over to the instructions, written by someone that might – just might – have been smarter than them.

I mean, you laugh, you veterans of cable TV and other devices. We accept this as sure as the sky is blue. But I ask, “What did it take you the first time you had to hook up something like this?”

More Moxie:
Info on the "Transition": http://www.dtv.gov/
Jasco Converter Boxes FAQs: http://www.jascoproducts.com/support/faqs/afmmain.asp?topicid=&faqid=
Where to point your antenna (very cool): http://antennaweb.org/aw/welcome.aspx

"either you want me or you don't"

2008-12-09T20:14:00.039-05:00

Working with an HVAC contractor in an emergency situation
Notes for the week of 12.1.08

The Back Story
The early part of this week found me down in 21224, again. You may remember from the last post that I was getting one of our units ready for a December 1 "delivery." And I won't go into it too much; Thanksgiving weekend, and how exactly I found out that the heat wasn't working down there. Nor will I waste time telling you how exactly I assured myself that we needed a specialist to fix the problem. I will tell you, however, that the new tenant was emailing, "Is it ready?" The answer, of course, "no".

click here to see what has been going on at the apartment

Now, I don't want to rant on this too much, either, but let's just say that of all the guys out there, I am pretty apt to side with your small business contractor. I mean, despite all of what a builder might tell you, and despite what seems to be general consensus, these are the guys that are out there doing it; gettin' er done. They are typically good at what they do; they work to put their kids through college. All, while fighting back complaints of how much they cost, only hoping to squirrel away a little money for retirement.

But this guy, "this guy".

Boiler Guys and what I know
Basically, there are two types of gas or oil-fired residential heat. Forced Air and/or Hot Water/Steam Radiant. Now, I have said this frequently, I mean, you can't hardly walk down the street without bumping into a Heating Ventilation Air Conditioning guy that knows his fair share about your Forced Air furnace. The boiler guy, however, is a little bit more of a rare breed. His markings, with four wheels and the words on the side paired as such: "Plumbing AND Heating".

They are really not that different, the boiler and the furnace. Both require air for combustion, both vent noxious by-products, each requires electrical service to power electrical components, and each is a delicate appliance filled with gadgets and sensors. And in the case of our boiler, and on this weekend, it appears that a small sensor had failed.

Loyalty in Relationships
Between my wife and myself, and with the work week coming, we decided that she should coordinate the fix. But first, I made calls to some guys I know. Unfortunately, and with a tight deadline, these calls didn't bare fruit. So we moved on to our next options. We decided to call a Plumbing and Heating company that we had used previously.

Several years had past since the first time they visited, and I can't really remember how exactly we came to connect with them. But that time, they did average work, efficiently, at a price that was doable. We decided to call.

And this is really is the target of this story. This guy. Now, I am not going to out this company, but they are local, 21234, and they have been in business for some 20 years. On paper, it seemed like a pretty good option: I mean, it had been some 4 years, BUT we were repeat customers.

The Verbal
We had called them late on Sunday night, so we were surprised when they returned our call early on that Monday morning. And he was free later that morning. He warned us that 21224 was "slightly beyond his typical service area", but he agreed to do it. Great. And my wife made the appointment.

He was on time as scheduled; came into the apartment, and quickly made his assessment. He gave my wife the verbal. Something like:

"You are going to need a new flame sensor, and a new damper control. And I am not sure if I can actually find these parts. So we will have to order a universal part. And with universal parts, it always takes a little longer. It is probably going to take the good part of the day. And it is going to be over $1000, definitely.
. . .But I will call later to confirm."

The Formal Quote
And he called as promised, a few hours later. And there you have it. $1500 for x, y, and z.

Now, if any of you know my wife, she is a fairly cool character, and, yes, she had already been on the phone with me several times that morning. She understood the situation, and realized she needed to keep this guy on the hook -- just in case, what he spoke was, in fact, our only option.

But $1,500 -- it seemed like a lot. So, she dialed me up again. She says, "$1,500 - it seems like a lot." And agreed, but I have to admit, I was at work, generally numb about the apartment, and, well, what could I do? -- I had already called my guys.

For my part, though, I figured I'd call this guy -- to see exactly what he was charging us for.

Before I call, I try to put myself into his shoes. As a guy, myself, that has worked up quotes, I know from experience that it is usually better to err on the high side.

And, you know, this thought definitely did not cross my mind -- "Did he maybe see a cute woman, pulling up in her cute car to a rental property, on the first of the month. She probably doesn't know anything about boilers, and she probably is desperate."

Though I didn't think that this guy actually thought that, but if he had, he would have been right; my wife doesn't know a thing about boilers. What she does know, however, is -- to always call in for assistance.

For her that means "call her parents". My in-laws, her parents, and though I generally don't give them enough credit, have 30-plus years of property management experience. Needless to say, they know a thing or two.

The Second Opinion
My mother-in-law, specifically, has a knack for saving money, and well, her husband, can pretty much ghetto MacGyver anything. It's a good resource to have. So, at the same time I am placing the call to this guy in 21234, my wife is on the horn with her mother. My mother-in-law's first response, "Oh, no!", or something along those lines. And she, in turn, gets sucked in on the fun.

Now, I am not exactly sure of how this transpired, but my mother-in-law got on the phone. She's dialing one the guys that I had called earlier (and coincidentally hadn't heard back from). She got through.

She had contacted a guy I call, Mike the HVAC guy. Now, Mike, and I won't, for various reasons, go into this, is a service manager for a larger HVAC company. And he is exactly the type of guy you want to work with if given the opportunity.

He does side-work, he has lots of experience, he is friendly, loves what he does, and he generally cares about houses and the people that live in them. And this time, he agreed to give us a hand.

A Call Picked Up Somewhere in 21234
As my mother-in-law is coordinating with Mike the HVAC guy, I'm on the phone. I have some experience dealing with contractors, and usually know how to ease in, but this time, there was none of that. I go right into, "Man, $1500 seems high; what are you charging me for?"

This guy, nice enough, and I remember this from working with him four years ago, proceeds to tell me what exactly he is replacing. Not only is he quoting me $500 for two small parts, but he tells me that he also expects a full day's work at $120 an hour.

Now, $120 an hour didn't set me back; it certainly seemed near a fair market rate. But it was what he said next that dumbfounded me. He intended to bill for the time that it took to estimate, research, and order the parts we needed, approximately 3 hours ALSO at $120 an hour.

I guess I have grown insensitive to the marketing pitch, "Free Estimates". But come on, I know a few things about "billing rate" and at $120 an hour -- this certainly should have included the overhead, the legwork associated with this job. So I thought on these things for minute, (or maybe a little longer, babbling away) until I finally came to this conclusion -- "You know what," I said. "Put those parts you've ordered on hold; I want a second opinion."

His response something like:

"I've been in business for twenty years. And I say this to people all the time. . .either you want me or you don't. I don't need the work. . . ."

The Resolution
I did have to take the time to meet Mike the HVAC guy at the apartment a few nights late. And I won't go into too much, but one of first things that Mike said, and like most will try to avoid trashing their kind, he said, this particular boiler, a Columbia, is still manufactured and, believe it or not, right here in Baltimore.

He would be able to get the exact replacement part, and we can forgo all of this "universal" part talk.

And yep, it was the flame sensor. A little plug-in solenoid switch, with a mercury tube on one end, and electrical connections on the other. And it was done. The boiler fired right up. About a half-hour of work, and even with Mike chit-chatting, and talking me through what he was doing, "$205 please."

Now, are you kidding me -- I paid him gladly. Even gave him a little extra. And he was pleased.

The Point Really
I'm not accusing this guy in 21234 of doing anything unethical and/or predatory. It was certainly within his right to charge what he wants to charge for his services. But I am saying, as a homeowner, you need to watch out, especially if the desperation of an "emergency" situation tries to overtake you. Get a second opinion, there is usually time for one, and there are always second opinions.

Funny, (and here is my shameless plug) but it sure is nice having a support network. Now, if only there were some company out there that would offer to make calls for you, help you research and weigh your options, and give you the support to get it done, all without blowing a wad of cash, wouldn't you use them?

But alas, we are left waiting.

More Moxie:
Columbia Heating Products: http://www.columbiaheating.com/company=1347893

& PS
That little metal line in the picture above made for a great "temporary" replacement hanger for a christmas tree ornament. Props to Evyn, my five year old, for that idea.

A bi-fold door fix; a Bi-itch (part 2 of 2)

2008-12-05T12:11:00.018-05:00

click here for part 1 of this article

"Replace Hardware": Step 2, again
So with my next visit to the hardware isle, I bought every bi-fold door part in sight, different styles and different sizes, tack-in types; ones for different track widths; ones with plastic sleeves; ones with metal sleeves. It really was suprising to me how few, in fact only two, had any sort of sizing information on their outside packaging.

Before pulling out, though, I spotted a "bi-fold door repair bracket" -- 2 sizes, and I grabbed them both; I could always return the unneeded one. I checked out and headed on my way. While I was in my truck, I thought to myself, "Sweet" -- now I don't have to try to flip the door over, or move the pivot to the other side.

Home Improvement is Not Brain Surgery, Thankfully
While I never lost my cool at any point during this install, I will tell you that trying to retract flushed plastic sleeves from a bi-fold door is not necessarily an easy proposition. In all cases, I had to trim off the sleeve's flange with my five-in-one tool and then push the balance of it down in the doors' hollow pockets. (No one will ever notice the rattling of carcasuses I left buried in these doors that weekend.)

Anyway -- to make this fix finally happen, I installed a "repair bracket" to the cracked portion of the door bottom -- adding a little wood glue earlier in this process. Before I went to work on it, I did notice the instructions on the packaging (see how I am always trying to double check instructions).

Kinda smart how the labeling on the package when folded and sealed inside, makes for a great place to store more detailed instructions. While the instruction were very similar to those I noted in part one of this article, they did have this one little additional tidbit:

"If your bi-fold door has been damaged, it may be necessary to drill out the existing pivot pin hole . . .to allow the new pivot pin to slip through the large hole in the bracket."

For a moment, I thought to myself maybe I should have heard about this a little earlier in my reading. Nah, instead, I took some blame for it, and thought that I should have had a little foresight and incorporated this bracket into my original action plan.

After a few tests with the varying hardware I bought, I had it nailed. Step 2 -- done. I was finally ready to move to the elusive steps 3 and 4 . . .again.

More Moxie:
Bi-Fold Door Hardware by PLPCI?: http://www.plpci.com/

a bi-fold door fix; a Bi-itch. (part 1 of 2)

2008-11-30T07:32:00.031-05:00

"Replace Hardware" on a Bi-folding Door
Notes from the weekend of November 29th

1. Remove door by lifting and tilting bottom out.
2. Replace hardware
3. Vertical adjustment *For vertical adjustment: lift and rotate adjusting wheel. Doors should just clear header.
4. Horizontal adjustment *For horizontal adjustment: lift and slide into new slot. Adjust so have an 1/8" gap between pair of doors at center or jamb in 2 door opening.
5. Snap-in snugger (spring stop)

The instructions as they appear on the back of a package labeled: Bi-Folding Door; Replacement Hardware.

"Replace Hardware". Seems simple enough; doesn't it?

A Part Time Landlord
I know, I am trying to dedicate this space for babblings about work around my house, but this weekend I was assigned to our rental property in 21224. It recently turned over. This go around, however, we had a few things to do. And this time, the carpet had to go.

And I guess directed by prevailing taste, we picked a frieze (and it's complete disregard for phonics) to go on the floor of this unit. It would be replacing a low-riding berber that had given us many years of service.

As always, when this apartment flips, my property manager (read: my wife) had a short punch list of items for me to complete. On this list was an adjustment to the bi-fold closet door. You see, the carpet guy had removed it, and it was kinda just laying there in its track. I mean, I don't blame him; he had to get it out of the way as he ran the floor covering into the walk-in closet.

Making a List and Checking it Twice
As I usually do with the apartment, I made myself, well, a punch list, in Excel. On it, I was thinking ahead. . .bullet point -- Replacement Hardware for a "bottom-pivoting" bi-fold door.

Now, I didn't have a ton of experience with these types of doors; I try to avoid them when at all possible. But from my time with the builder, I had gotten accustomed to making minor adjustments to them. So, I do know a thing or two. And I knew that there was a "replacement hardware" pack. . . It would contain everything I could possibly need.

Hollow Core Doors are Stable and Light
This set of bi-fold doors was manufactured in August of 1993; I knew this because I pulled them out, as per step 1 noted above (ok, I improvised on that slightly). Anyway, the date was clearly stamped on the bottom of them. Made by a company called Craftmaster. "I don't know, it sounds familiar; ah, they're probably still around," I thought.

A few other points of note: These doors brushed at the bottom even with the berber in place AND they were tight at the header; they were hollow-core and they were big -- 24 inches each. The largest possible for this type of installation (or so I have read).

That said, I went to work. I figured I'd have to trim it a touch, at the bottom; I'd have to -- if I wanted it to clear the carpet.

A Part Time Handyman
I had a good bit of experience cutting down their kind -- "the inexpensive hollow-core door." (I even know what to do if I have to cut beyond the solid wood edge that holds it all together.) I knew, it'd probably be smart to start small, and go from there.

So, for my trim cut, and with doors already on my mind, I picked the standard bottom clearance of 3/8". And under less than workshop-worthy conditions, I took it off; 3/8s of an inch, perfect.

And there I went, I ripped (well I know better than to rip) into my replacement hardware pack. First, I went to work on the bottom panel at the pivot-side. The pre-drilled hole at the bottom of the door, and mind you, I didn't have my larger bits on me that day, seemed slightly smaller that the plastic sleeve I held in my hand. "Should I ream it out a bit?" . . . "Nah" -- The sleeve was tapered; it was close enough, i thought. The tapering was probably intented to allow the sleeve to slip in but snug up tight. And I tapped it in lightly with a 10 oz hammer. It went in nicely. No issues.

Then I went to work on the top two pieces from my pack, called the "top pivot" and the "guide" respectively. There were similar sized holes on those edges of my door panels. Unfortanately, the old hardware still plugged them. The pivot was easy enough -- I grabbed it with a pair of channel locks and wiggled it out. The guide side, however, presented a little bit more of a problem. But with a little mind over matter, it eventually broke free. And broke, it was -- I destroyed it.

I inspected my new hardware -- strange I thought -- that the plastic casing for these two springed parts was slightly smaller than the sleeve I just installed on the bottom. Yet the holes they were going into were the same size.

No matter, I gloobed up the pivot side with some acrylic caulk I had loaded up and laying around. I slid them in, working, carefully, as not to destroy their spring loaded mechanisms. I used my 5-in-1 painter's tool pushing gently against the outer edge of the plastic sleeves.

One Size Fits All -- Sometimes
Before I went to push the guide in, I did think enough to check the size of the roller guide and whether it would fit in the existing track at the header. Damn. Too big, "Nothing is easy." Nonetheless, I don't need that now. And I went to sitting the door back in place.

I lined it up, that is, from experience I knew you need to fold the door up, place the pivot guide home in the bracket at the floor and place the top guide inside the track. Then and only then swing it up towards the top bracket, which I was replacing too, at the other end.

Once I got roughly over the bracket location with the top of the door, I slid the bracket towards me just that slightly. Man, this is going to work out nicely, I thought. I gently slid the bracket back in place -- and there you go.

Just need to hold it here and tighten up that set screw. Easy does it, easy does it -- ok -- Its all good -- gonna tighten it up. I was getting excited, the bi-fold door adjustment off my list. I gave it a quick test, unfolding it into the opening. Man, it still drags a little on the new carpet. Ok -- I am going to have to adjust the door upwards a little.

A Part Time Lover
Now, at this point I am not actually sure what happened, but it happened. Bam -- the door seemed to jump from the pivot bracket on the floor. No biggie, I'll compress the spring-loaded guide, and slip it back out. Snap -- the guide just flopped down into the housing. It broke. "Good thing I saved the original."

So I finished removing the door, intending to make the needed adjustment. But to my suprise when I looked at its underside, there it was: a long skinny zig zagging of a hair line crack running from the predrilled hole that I just stuffed the bottom pivot into. The solid block at the bottom of the door had collapsed slightly to reveal exactly how much of it were left after I cut the door down. About 3/4".

Now from my experience with the standard hinged hollow core door, you typically have at minimum about 2" of solid blocking at the top and bottom edges. But why not here, where this block would actually be required to bear some weight? With that realization, and I wasn't too suprised, I decided to put it down for the day. I had other things to do; and I'd have to run to the home center, again, anyway.

click here for part 2 of this article

:More Moxie:
What is Freige? (not exactly courtesy of the wise geek, but thanks): http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-a-frieze-carpet.htm
Craftmaster Interior Doors: http://www.craftmasterdoors.com/

kinda like shaving with a collared shirt on. you know you shouldn't do it, but sometimes it works out

2008-11-26T11:55:00.022-05:00

(And sometimes it doesn't)
Notes from the week of November 17th

You know when you live in an unfinished house, and when you are the only option for bringing multiple families together for Thanksgiving, things can get a little crazy.

As many of you may know, my wife and I have been working aggressively on the rooms in the rear of the house. This includes: the powder room, the original kitchen, which we are converting into a laundry room, and a small breakfast nook, which we now use as a home office.

That's were this week's notes have me. In the "computer room." Soon after purchasing the house in mid '05, and when we had a dumpster here, I tore out old 'brick-patterned' linoleum floor (you know the one). I usually don't like tearing out anything until I am near ready to replace it. But this flooring was just that hard to look at. The exposed, damaged plywood underneath was just that much better. And really, only a little showed out from around the area rug we threw in there.

With TG approaching, and with the work progressing, (toilet in, trim done and everything mostly painted) I was at an impasse with my radiant baseboard heat. I mean, I know there is no door on the powder room, but now was the time to take a crack at getting ready for the carpet in the office. I mean, our guests didn't need to see that, and I could squeeze that work in, finally put all of the heating system back together, and still have time to hang the door.

Everything was in line, I had some quick-setting leveler, the kids were going to be sat by my mother over night, and there was beer in the frig. I could work late and get up and finish in the morning. I had all the lauan and nails I would need. Never mind that they were forecasting lows in the 30s for that night.

I got a decent start to the day; about 9:30 (this is early when you have a 3 and a 5 year-old, mind you). I just needed to bring a low spot in one corner up with a little self-leveling compound before I went to work on the underlayment.

As I do before mixing anything, I did a quick check of the label on my product. And there it was; under the section labeled "Drying Time", "Most floor coverings in 12-14 hours. Ceramic tile in 2-4. . . Walkable hardness in 2-4. . . ."

Well anyway, as we all know, Thanksgiving was coming, and I didn't have that kinda time. I turned to my wife and said, "I don't care -- I am going to go for it. As soon as the leveler is dry enough. . ." I mean, I could give up 2, 4, even 5 hours. I had other things I could do during that time.

I mixed my leveler, poured it exactly as I wanted (using scrap pressure treated lumber as a screed at the edges) and it was done. I just had to wait. I got busy doing a few other things: finished the connections on the pedestal sink, removed some glazing from a window pane and replaced a piece of broken glass. I did some work to get ready for the reassembly of my heating system. All the while, checking the progress of my leveler.

The leveler didn't seem to be drying quite as quickly as I would hope. I mean, it couldn't have been that I mixed it too thin. I am pretty exacting with that. It must have been that it was so cold (that area, a converted porch, is exposed underneath) and, well, there was no heat on to help it dry.

At this point, the sun was down, it was cold (inside the house); I knew it, because my wife was telling me.

I took measurements at openings and along the walls. Never mind the stress of the thought of not having heat on such a cold night. I cut my first piece of lauan at about 6:30. "Test fit?", I asked myself quickly. My response, "I don't need that; I don't have the time. Anyway, this house is only 130 years old; I am sure all the walls are true. It'll go right in."

So there I went, my can of construction adhesive. I marked out some quick "working lines" and went to spreading. My wife, at this point upstairs, and her painting done for the day, she was cleaning one of the less visited rooms in the house. And I was finally going to make it happen.

I brought my first cut piece of lauan in from outside. All the way through the house, door wide open; and I laid it down into the adhesive. Man, "it doesn't quite fit . . . . I guess the walls aren't totally square after all." Alright, I said, "no biggie" -- just need to run and grab my belt sander.

I'll pull it up before the glue starts setting up, and it'll be alllll good. So I pulled the panel up; "Wow -- that glue gets pretty tacky pretty quick," I thought. I took my best guesses on where and how much, and began nibbling. "Jenny!" I yelled. "Can you give me a hand?" No answer.

Anyway, I was ready; I put it back down. "Man, that didn't quite do it." So I picked it up again -- "sh. . t". That glue is sticky. It f. . ing pulled my precious leveler right off the floor. "Jenny!!" I yelled louder.

Alright, I am going to have to be a little bit more aggressive -- need the circular saw, and I ran and got it. "Jenny!!!" I yelled louder. Big clumps of my leveler are sticking all over the underside of my panel. "f.." I yelled. I mean I can't have that. "Where is my 5 in 1 tool? Can you hold this." I yelled. This time though she was right there. And at that point -- needless to say, I was freaking out.

So my wife says, "why are you freaking out?" So I yelled something like, "My floor leveler was perfect, the cards were in line for today -- just hold it!"

Then she says to me, "I know this is going to make you mad, but. . ."

Anyway, that piece of lauan did eventually go down, and it went down well enough (I have one low spot I am going to have to deal with before carpet covers it). And we didn't have heat that night (probably wouldn't have had it with or without the agitation), and our bathroom door didn't get hung. And Thanksgiving is still coming, and remodeling right before entertaining is never a good idea, and rushing is the devil . . . .These are things I should know by now.

For good or bad. And I'd like to think I do more things better than not, but it is just these things, the things that I should know better about, that seem to weigh a little heavier.

Anyway, in my stupidity on this one, I hope you learn a little something you can use (or not use) on a future home project.