Looking for Mr. or Ms. Good Wrench
Coco and I went on a mission together in the car.
We were looking for....craftspeople.
This is the Number One cause of stress in restoring an old house and home improvement. More than no tiles on the wall of the bathroom, funky smells or peeling paint. Finding good people in any profession has always been difficult. And we haven't been having much luck in finding the structural folks that will get us to the next step.
The few folks who we've talked to want us to "gut it" in order to complete the work. Take out ALL of the plaster...walls and ceilings. Which would mean taking off the wood trim. And putting up drywall for the whole house. And insulating behind this drywall. And replacing the trim. Plaster and trim that has been there for 90 years. The drywall that was put up in this house within the last 5 years or so? That already needs to be replaced.
It's time for a meltdown.
After all of the original stuff is scrapped....why did we buy an old house? Of course we don't want it the easiest, cheapest way! Or we'd be living in a townhouse just over the Illinois border.
According to TEConnor (another Bungalow Pal and craftperson-ologist), the quality craftsperson is:
The rare breed...They are elusive, nocturnal, hibernating beasts that may or may not have identifiable characteristics. Their habitat ranges from stately mansions in posh historic districts to gentrification projects in forgotten neighborhoods. They do not own phones. They do not believe in pagers or cell phones. They only work by the written word. People who have witnessed this rare and dying breed claim that they are the most beautiful species of contractors known to restoration man. They are known to flee from the sight of smiling teeth and extended hands. If sighted, it is best to approach them with head bowed and hands to the side. Allow them to initiate all discussion and just nod with agreement at all they say. The slightest misuse of electrical jargon will send this species running back to their nesting vans, the windows apparently uncleaned in decades, the dash littered with chicken scratch receipts and unidentifiable rusty metal objects, never to return.
I feel like I am stalking a Yeti.
The first place we drove by looked promising. The people behind the counter were less hopeful. "Anyone of deez guys is an electrician," said one, snapping her gum and waving her hand. I approached one of them carefully and explained my situation. He eyes me critically, "Keep the plaster, eh? You mean fish it down between the walls? I don't like taking those kind of jobs and I'm really booked...but here is my card. Call me."
Back in traffic, it began to rain. We went from supply place to supply place. No luck.
Now this is REALLY getting depressing. So, I pulled the car into the last stop, dashed for the door and took a number at the order counter to wait my turn.
"Calling Number 30! Yeah? Whad'dya want?"
My words spilled out in a rush.
He laughed. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't trust any of the clowns in here with my OWN house!"
My shoulders slumped. I prepared to drag my feet to the door when I heard myself ask, "Who WOULD you trust with your own house?"
He fished around in the cash register drawer and came up with a plain white card. A name and number with a lightening bolt printed in the corner. The words "No job too big or too small" printed at the top. "He's the uncle of one of the guys who works here. An old guy. Call him."
Hope in the form of a little white card. It's enough for now.
(6)
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Comments
Keep the faith. You will find them.
My electrician is a little old guy who wears a knit cap and flannel shirt even in the heat of summer. He has spider webs on him....even when he starts the job. He has taken me under wing. He has now fished phone cords and new outlet wires miraculously up to a tiny little hole in my plaster walls. He has redone the wiring in my hallway ceiling. He has sighed sympathetically with me over the crooked outlets that plague my house. And clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the outlets that were slapped on my floor.
I found my plumber by accident. My regular plumber (who for 11 years told me to trash my 1920's toilet) was "busy" and outsourced my call. The new plumber came and immediately pulled out parts to repair my toilet. When I asked why my other plumber hadn't done this years ago, he shrugged and told me my old toilet was "cool". I called him on the day I moved into my new house and discovered my farm sink faucet was on the verge. He came, he fixed.
Over the years have developed a list of a sewer guy, a heater guy, floor guy, locksmith and a tile guy. I had a furniture guy, but he left to become a realtor and its still a little painful to talk about ;-)
These guys are in pen in my address book. They are out there.
Posted by: Suzanne | August 11, 2003 5:50 PM
You continue to amaze, astound and make me proud.
Posted by: Anonymous | August 12, 2003 8:56 AM
Clever! Gotta think on your feet when hunting the Yeti (or is it Yetii?).
Tim
Posted by: Tim | August 12, 2003 11:00 AM
We have a wonderful handyman who seems to be able to do everything from install a baby-gate to put up a new ceiling to install and finish carpentry details. His name is Boris, and he's a Russian immigrant.
Each day as he begins work (not just the first day of the project), he surveys the area. His shoulders slump, and he says, "Eees eeempossible!!" Then he goes out on my front steps, winter or summer, and smokes cigarrettes and drinks coffee until he feels morally equal to the task at hand. Then he works like a demon all day, and he always does a great job.
Have I mentioned I love Boris? Sometimes his brother Ivan (no I am not making a racist joke, those are really their names) comes and they have a loud argument in Russian; it sounds like they've been having the very same argument for the past 40 years. Ivan's son Mikhail sometimes comes, and asks my husband where he can learn C++ programming ("I have to get out of this business," he tells us). An unnamed helper who never talks, even if you talk to him, sometimes comes with Boris. Boris says, "Don't worry. You know Russia has war with Afghanistan? Like Vietnam for US is Afghanistan for Russia. Taliban hang him from wall, he not same anymore."
Posted by: Lisa Williams | August 12, 2003 5:54 PM
Hi Jeanne,
In your quest for craftsmen that will appreciate resoring your bungalow, think in trems of trades.
For example, to redo plaster walls lokk fro plasterers, electrical=electricians.
Total restoration Contractors are few and far between and super expensive. The guys you have been talking to are merely contractors who want to maximize their income and not give you what you want.
This will take some digging but worth it in the long run.
See, easy, maybe ?
Love, Dad
Posted by: dad | August 12, 2003 9:20 PM
Sorry for the misspellings, just 15 hours of driving today.
I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Love ya both, Dad
Posted by: dad | August 12, 2003 9:22 PM