Hi. Remember us?

As I mentioned in the last post, we are homeless. There’s nothing quite like a little unexpected homelessness to keep life interesting. I will do my best to make a long story short.

We found our next house. It is old, out-dated, has drop ceilings, a garage conversion, a 70’s era bright orange conical fireplace, and a LIVE TREE GROWING IN THE LIVING ROOM. I wish I were kidding about any of this. However, these “charming” features mean that we can buy a home in a neighborhood we assumed we could not afford until our (non-existent) kids were in college. So even though our master bath was far from completed, our garage looked like a storage unit, and my to-do list was still a mile and a half long, we listed our house, and scrambled to get everything done.

On Saturday morning, a few hours before the first people were scheduled to arrive for showings, I was in the garage looking something like this:

when strangers came walking up the driveway. They asked many confusing questions about how to contact the realtor, whether the house was available for showing, etc., until I finally said, “I’m the homeowner.” The skeptical look I got was priceless, these strangers wandered around our house WAY before it was fit for consumption, and I began questioning my decision-making skills and fashion choices.

After a long day of showings we had a few offers to choose from, one of which we accepted. Our buyers demanded a quick closing, so we went for it, knowing the owners of the house we are buying wanted to close as quickly as possible too. Except … not so much. They changed their minds, which is their prerogative, but very frustrating. In the interim, we are living in a 500 square foot garage apartment in a stranger’s backyard for 6 weeks.  With a 50 pound dog. OK – 56 pound dog (she is sensitive about her weight).

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Then add copious amounts of vodka.

Coming up as soon as I can locate the camera, download the pictures, find some wireless internet (this post currently coming to you from a courthouse cafeteria’s public wifi), I will put together a before and after pictures post.  We are pretty excited to see those.

Until then, 16 days of homelessness left, and counting …

Soooo, long story short, we finished the bathroom. It is beautiful, functional, and DONE.

I am incredibly proud of the shower in particular, because I basically tiled the entire thing completely by myself. That isn’t to say The Boy didn’t play a supporting role, and help a TON in the areas of mixing thinset, cleaning buckets, carrying heavy things, cutting a few tiles, etc. However, I did all of the physical tiling, and I am very happy with the result. Girl power!

The pre-slope and liner (done by professionals):

Mixing mortar for the top mud bed and curb:

Pouring, leveling, and smoothing the bed and curb (in yet another fabulous outfit):

The cement backer board going up (with a shot of the shower panel):

 And then it was time for tiling!

Don’t forget to back butter!

The curb was one of the most logistically difficult things I’ve ever done. It tested my mathematical skills, patience, knowledge of the pythagorean theorem, and tile cutting abilities.  But I prevailed.

Last but not least, I had to dry fit the pebble tile for the shower floor before I laid them:

I am putting together a post of before-and-after photos for the entire house, so I am going to stop here. I had never experienced one of these shower panels, though, and I must say they are very awesome. It is like a car wash for your body, and now I am not sure I can live without this luxury.

Except that I am, because we sold our house. And closed. And moved out.

Surprise! We are homeless!