First off, I realize that I have a category for posts called ‘kitchen sink’ — but this post is literally about the kitchen sink. In this case, the demolition of the wall surrounding the kitchen sink.

Yes, this past weekend contained Independence Day. And while this is traditionally a time of relaxing around a grill with a cold beer in one’s hand, K and I decided that we would work on the renovation. Actually, that isn’t quite true. We decided that we would work a bit and then relax a bit — perhaps take a day off and go float in a river on the North Shore — but we started working and we never quite got around to the relaxing on the river part of the plan.

For those of you who read the title of this post and are thinking, “Mouse shit by the pound?  Get to the point,” I will keep you guessing no longer: This is not a rhetorical flourish. Just a statement of fact.

One of our tasks for the weekend was to prepare the kitchen walls for painting. If you have read earlier posts on the renovation, you know that I have been fighting with the kitchen floor for several weeks to remove the old sticky tile, luan sub-flooring, and tar paper.  (Side Note: I discovered this week that if you need to remove stubborn tar paper from an old wood floor, soak the tar paper with a 1:3 solution of vinegar and water. I wasn’t sure why this was working until I mentioned it to my friend Rob who pointed out that Vinegar is a mild acid –  so that is probably what is loosening the bond of the tar paper to the floor. However, I don’t believe I have mentioned that the walls were in pretty bad shape from the removal of the cabinets and suffered from the same general coating of yuckiness as the cabinets themselves. So we determined that the best solution was to rip out the sheet rock, install new rock, and float the walls.

When we began ripping out the old sheet rock, we discovered the treasure trove of mouse shit and dead cockroaches pictured above. I had a similar discovery in the last house I renovated but still, it is pretty nasty to see up close and personal — the pictures don’t seem to capture the revulsion you feel at thinking, “what if I hadn’t opened that wall and had just moved in here. I’d be eating my wheaties  right next to that and not know it.” Yuck.

The other discovery we made was more fun: some old wallpaper on the plaster that was covered up by sheet rock at some point.

In the end, we did get the old sheet rock down and the walls opened up and cleared of debris.

Before hanging the new sheet rock, I decided to leave a note on the old plaster wall for the next renovators of the house.

After that we installed the new sheet rock! This was the first additive thing we have done to the house. Everything up to this point has been removal or demolition. It felt great to take that first small step of rebuilding.

Renovating after working the day gig is always tricky for me. I need to recharge a bit after the workday — but too much relaxing and I loose lose momentum. And Friday happy hour is right out.

Tonight it was back to the kitchen floor. K and I made good, if slow, progress. Feeling like we are 95% done and almost ready to start sanding.

When we called it quits we took Stanley and T-Bone for a walk around the Bayou. Ran into Ian and Antonia on their bikes headed downtown with some friends. Stopped into Pal’s for two beers in go cups to help with the summer heat. The warm night air just humid enough to ensure we knew we are in New Orleans.

Almost forgot to mention dinner: paprika chicken with three sides: potato salad, dirty rice, and macaroni & cheese from the corner store next to the house. $6.99. Fed both of us and we still have lunch for tomorrow.

How lucky we are to have fallen in love in this city and with this city.

Time moves so slowly in the hot New Orleans sun but the hours slip into days and I haven’t posted any notes on the renovation.

Each day of the weekend was a new undertaking. But I started and ended in the same place. The back corner of the yard.

Two things converge in the back corner of the yard: the old cat hospital and a plant called a vitex. Neither of these is a good thing in my opinion but the vitex may redeem itself one day.

Our house has been vacant since 2005: Not for the reasons many who know what 2005 means in New Orleans would suspect — but that is another story. The important point here is that during the last 5 years, this Vitex plant / weed / tree has been having a great time in the back yard. I don’t even know what a vitex plant is — but that is what a friend told me it is called. They also explained that it is actually a cool plant. So I decided I just needed to trim it up and get it back to looking like a proper tree and not like an invasive weed on steroids.

Friday evening, while K went for mandatory cocktails with her graduate studies cohort, I attacked the vitex with the only weapon I had: a saws-all.

My problem was not that the vitex was a tough opponent. Each branch I touched was clearly not a “real” branch and deserved to be cut back. The problem was that none of the branches appeared to be real branches. Down at the base there were some substantial trunks that made you think “tree” — but above that everything seemed wimpy and ripe for removal. There was no there there. In the end I finally got tired and just gave up, afraid that if I continued cutting K would show up on Saturday morning and find a stump.

Astute observers will note the saws-all in the foreground.

Saturday I decided to move back inside. The plumber was coming on Monday to see about running a new vent stack and had requested that the walls be open in both the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms. I prepared for battle.

I enjoy doing demo in these old houses. Perhaps it is the academic romanticizing manual labor. Perhaps it is because lacking trade skills I have trouble with finish work. Be that as it may, there is also a process of discovery and a connecting with unknown craftspeople who have worked in the same place. At times it is the hack handyman whose idea of a repair was to cover over the problem. But more often it is the work of someone who solved problems in a skillful and innovative manner; work that makes you step back and question your own ability to fully engage the physical world.

At the end of the day had I succeeded in removing a portion of the wall. But the end result was meager compared to the energy expended. If playing music allows me to feel much younger than my actual years, demolition in June in New Orleans allows me to feel every one of those years.

Now, back to the cat hospital.

As the story goes, the former owner of the house loved cats. And by that I mean that the mother-in-law apartment had something like 20 cats residing in it and the back yard was protected by a double fence to keep the neighborhood dogs away from the 40+ cats hanging out back there. When cats weren’t feeling well, they were put into a lean-to chicken wire structure that had been added to the original 1903 servant quarters. This all sounds quite “crazy cat lady” except that Rosemary was apparently in touch with the SPCA and was designated as a cat rescue location complete with veterinarian visits.

But Rosemary is no longer here and it was time for the cat hospital to go away. K and I decided to divide and conquer. She headed home to retrieve the wheelbarrow and I started whacking at the cat hospital.

By the time the noon sun was beating us senseless, the cat hospital and all the detritus from the vitex tree / bush / weed had been deposited in the construction dumpster out front.

It started with a voicemail from K. Someone broke in to the new house. Tools are missing. So is the antique china cabinet.

I suspect Buddha is testing my attachment to material objects. Loosing the tools sucks but they are just metal and plastic to me. However, ever since my first step inside this house I have been drawn to this piece. I just loved its beauty and the craftsmanship it took to make it.

Our neighbor actually saw the guys taking it. However, since we have contractors going in and out he talked with them briefly and they said we were getting rid of this or something and he went back inside; can’t blame him for that. All we know is that it was two black males in a white SUV — Tahoe or Explorer or something — which was new, shiny, and had chrome rims. Not much to go on. I think the good news is that judging from the appearance of some other pieces of furniture they planned to take more. But I suspect that once they knew someone had seen them they just bolted. So while our neighbor didn’t prevent them from taking this piece, he probably did save us from loosing a few more things.

I try to focus on the fact that it is just stuff. And that k and I are both safe. And that no one put a gun in our faces. Nevertheless, all day I have been agitated, sad, pissed off, and generally unpleasant to be around.

NOPD came out and took a report. Very nice officer. One of the best I have encountered here and that is nice. Then again, the fact that he estimated that a detective would be on the case in 5 to 7 DAYS doesn’t inspire much confidence in that route. I guess if I were down and out and needed some cash and someone said, “it’s illegal . . . but you’ll have a 5 to 7 day head start before the cops come after you” — I might take those odds.

At least the sun is going down. Tomorrow will be another day.

One of the amazing aspects of getting our house was how great the sellers were to K and I throughout the process. As much as we wanted the house, they wanted us to get it. I’ve never experienced anything like it before and it made this special house that much more special.

At the closing, they brought us a series of wonderful presents; mementos from the house including the original contract for the building of the house in 1903.

But the thing that took our collective breath away was when they handed us the original blueprints for the construction of the house.