From Tantrums to Tiles - A Spiritual Journey

Excuse my absence but I have been busy modelling. Well remodelling really. One kitchen. One bathroom. One new deck. One complete nervous breakdown!

This has been a bit of a learning curve for me. Let's put it this way: I am not a morning person. Usually I need three cups of strong coffee to kick start the motor before even doing a Neantherthal grunt to the spousal unit. But, believe me, having a bunch of men in your house blasting Thin Lizzie in your earholes while bashing down walls with a sledgehammer at seven o'clock every morning will push you to the limit - and beyond.

I mean look, I simply don't get those shows like Hell's Kitchen where the chefs are asleep in a room (with six others) and som Kitchen Hitler comes in at three in the morning and bangs on a steel drum and toots on a trumpet and everyone has to get up immediately and skin a cow and make an entree out of its entrails. And the thing is, everyone seems to do it without going ballistic.

How? Will someone please explain?

Well, I have had the remodellers in for two months and yes it was a bit of a shock to the system. To be fair they are a nice bunch. But I don't find it easy to talk about the texture of wall tiles or the size of  lightbulbs at the crack of sparrows. But you know what, I have managed it. I have become a nicer person. I cannot bite the head off a contractor at seven in the morning or they might retaliate and sew a dead rat behind one of the walls...or something worse!

And what about the strain on one's marriage? Fifty thousand mind blowingly boring discussions about shades of paint have been conducted with Mr Mommy Has a Headache. "I want beige paint for the trim!" "Well I don't! I want oatmeal!"

"Okay, how to you feel about perlescent tiles?" "I don't give a fig for perlescent tiles."

It becomes a tug of war about every little decision. So in the end it's like SURRENDER. You choose the color of the deck and I'll choose the light fixtures. If you don't try and be mature about it you can see yourself ending up in a scene from War of the Roses.

I'm just pleased to say that we are now on the home stretch. For some, alas, things did not end so well. Including this note left by a husband at the close of a remodel project in the 70s was rediscovered recently behind some wainscoting [via Found mag]…

So tell me all about your remodelling experiences. I've heard of awful, drunken contractors who put up wonky walls. So do dish all...if you dare....