Jonathan’s father lives by the motto: “Man who finishes house, dies.” My mother-in-law would tell you that at the rate he’s planning projects for himself, he’ll be alive until he’s 207. When we got married, Jonathan told me there were two things he would NEVER do, and I was NEVER to ask. 1. Farm anything, especially sheep. 2. Renovate a house.
So if you’re keeping track, we’ve renovated two houses so far. And our marriage is young.
When we left west-central Georgia and the project, um I mean house there, Jonathan sent the vast majority of his tools and renovating equipment back with my parents because we were going to be renting. It wasn’t like we were going to be renovating anything for at least four years, so why keep it all lying around, cluttering up the place when it could be cluttering up my mom and dad’s place?
I may have mentioned that our apartment has a full basement. It is just one big room with concrete floors and concrete walls and a washer/dryer hookup. It’s a walk out basement, with a full door out to a patio and garden area, so only the back half is completely below grade and the former tenants had no problem with leaks or any of the other basement related After living here in the sublease for a few weeks, we began discussing sleeping as a family in the basement and using the upstairs bedrooms as an office and a playroom and guest bedrooms, should the need arise.
If we used the basement, we’d have to partition off some rooms.
So how would we partition off the rooms in a manner that would be practical for four years, but removable when we left?
This morning, as we were loading 12 linear feet of louvered doors (such great prices!) from the ReStore, with which we are going to build a hanging room divider, we realized something.
We are renting.
We are renovating.
I’ll let you know when we buy those sheep.