The pains of home improvement

There used to be this novelty candy in the Nineties called a Wonder Ball. It was a spherical chocolate shell filled with more candy and other surprises like stickers. I never ate one, but I remember the commercial jingle vividly.

"Oh I wonder, wonder, hmm, I do...what's in my Wonder Ball? Who knows what surprises a Wonder Ball can hide? Yummy Nestlé chocolate with candy bits inside!"

I was reminded of that tune recently after plunging my crowbar into our home office ceiling. The surprise on the other side of the plaster and lathe wasn't candy, but a face full of ancient vermiculite insulation. Buckets of the potentially hazardous particles rained down on me as I methodically removed the ceiling, as did large chunks of the aforementioned plaster. Nothing adds insult to injury quite like a big piece of that stuff blasting you in the back of the head.

I had forgotten how much I loathe interior house renovation. I now have plenty of fresh memories, though, because our latest improvement project has been quite the bearcat.

We're updating our office room as well as the laundry room. These two spots were relatively ignored when we gutted this place two years ago, and being home so much during the COVID-19 quarantine finally forced us to develop a plan. I was charged with doing most of the demo work, but the bulk of the project is being done by contractors who, unlike myself, know what they're doing.

Our house is 103 years old and has "good bones." That's just a polite way of saying it's old as dirt and difficult to renovate. The hornet's nest of knob and tube wiring that lurks beneath some of the walls makes me wonder how this place hasn't burned to the ground. Each stud also has a minimum of 100 nails in it, which is beyond frustrating when you're trying to quickly demo out a room. No project in this house goes fast, especially when I'm involved.

The four-door closet in the office was the biggest obstacle of the demo project. One of the home's former owners had it built sometime in the mid-20th Century, and I think it could have withstood a direct hit from an EF-5 tornado. The thing would not give in no matter how hard I tried. I think hitting it with my sledgehammer only made it stronger, and the madder I got the more it resisted.

It finally succumbed following an hour of pounding, prying and swearing. I would have never thought I could get so mad at a closet, but then again, this house never ceases to amaze me.

The professionals came on Monday. To nobody's surprise, I didn't come close to getting everything done that I wanted to. They took over and made quick work of it, though, and I felt bad when they ran into vermiculite in the laundry room. We got them a couple cases of beer and some cookies as a peace offering.

The project is far from finished, but everything looks cleaner, both rooms are better insulated and Kaity seems to be happy. I'm happy to be done chewing on plaster dust, too.

I wouldn't recommend doing a large-scale home improvement project when you're holed up at home during a pandemic, though. My erratic work schedule was made more irregular and I wasn't a fan of the kids being around all the dust. Nonetheless, it's done and our house is better for it.

Now, if only we had enough money left over to pay someone to paint the outside.

Nick Pedley is the news editor of The Hartley Sentinel-The Everly/Royal News.