D-Day

Demolition day started out quietly as I contemplated how one actually goes about removing the contents of a kitchen.  My friend and remodeling advisor Poldi and I unplugged the stove and dragged it out.  Ok, that wasn’t so hard.  Now these countertops, just how are they attached anyway?  And the electrical plates, under counter lighting, phone wires, plumbing, wiring, venting?  Sheesh!  This wasn’t demolition, it was disassembly, needing screw drivers, pliers, wrenches and other specialized tools.

I suddenly realized I was in way over my head.

I expected that my nephew would show, along with his enthusiastic girlfriend, the single rsvp I received.  I was really pleased when my brother John and his family showed up.  John has real experience in exactly this activity, having extensively remodeled his various houses over decades.  He dived right in, equipping his wife and daughter (age 7!) with tools and explaining how to tear off tiles and sheetrock.

More people arrived.  They came bearing tools and enthusiasm, but the house was built to resist.  Inept construction methods were encountered everywhere, with code violations and booby traps in the wiring and plumbing.  The interior had been highly designed and specified by artists, but constructed by amateurs.

The team forged ahead anyway, cutting wires and pipes as necessary.  Finally the sink and dishwasher yielded.  The corrugated metal was gradually removed from the walls.  Debris was delivered to the dumpster, useful items and metal carefully placed against it, per Rich’s recommendation.

I was thrilled at the response to an invitation that essentially provided free labor, Tom Sawyer style, for a huge task.  I am amazed at the drawing power of tearing down other people’s walls.  What is it that would bring the mother of a nephew’s girlfriend to come to a stranger’s home and organize the dismantling of it?