The drywall that was in the front hall for two years or so is . . . (You might want to take a seat.) . . . It’s gone.
My hubby reinforced the ceiling on the second floor, cut the drywall into manageable sections, secured it to the ceiling, taped and mudded it, sanded it, and painted it with primer. (FYI, he kept the floor vacuumed as he went.) It looks a.ma.zing.
He also removed the six-foot tall gas heater that sat in the corner of the landing since we moved in twelve years ago. (We haven’t needed it since we got a furnace that heats the whole house. That happened shortly after we bought the house.)
And what does that all mean?
It means this Horrible Housekeeper has a suppressed desire to have things clean and tidy. Eek!
The next project . . . the back bedroom.
My job . . . empty it out. (Something tells me the living room is going to be in bad shape for a while. It’s right next to said bedroom.) I’ll donate or sell what we don’t want to keep and chuck what can be classified as garbage.
My hubby’s job (by far, the more challenging) . . . remove the makeshift closet walls; remove the wallpaper (oh, so much fun taking it off plaster); repair the wall torn open by the bookshelf when it collapsed; drywall the wall; repair any cracks in the other three walls and the ceiling; paint (though I could help with this); replace the carpet; reinstall the closet.
If we work together this could be done in a week or so. Mind you, that “week” will likely take until the end of the year at least.
Just a side note: It’s much less tiring – though much less satisfying – to remain a Horrible Housekeeper. Sigh!