Daring to Begin to Dream of New Bathrooms Part 2

There's some good news on the attic bathroom front. Years ago, some psychopath (okay I'm exaggerating stupidly with my frustration, not to mention using the wrong psychological term, to put it mildly, but I am in the middle of renovation, so I would like permission to act and write, um, histrionically) put in a flimsy ole 32" by 32" shower stall that sat about a half inch below the drain pipe. And again, I'm sorry to the psychopath for calling him (I assume) a psychopath but, I checked, and I am granted that indisputable right under the bylaws of home ownership that read:
If the new owner of the property has to get down on her hands and knees with an absorbent thing and sop up the water in the bottom of the shower and then squeeze said absorbent thing over the drain more than 100 times after taking a shower in order for the shower stall not to become a cesspool after each and every use, then the new owner may call the person who installed that stall A PSYCHOPATH. Liberally.
So you're probably saying, "Whoa sister, where's the good news here?" The good news is twofold. The plumber says that gee, he thinks he can arrange the new shower so that the water drains! We are approaching modern times! Secondly, he says we can purchase a bigger shower stall to fit in that space! This means that a person over 6' could actually shower there and, if necessary, bend over and retrieve, say, a bar of soap without doing some sort of plie or getting down on one knee and begging to the shower gods or something. So here is a picture of the old shower. I did not zoom in too close.
There's the old "vanity" back there. I have to put that word in quotes because "vanity" implies something pretty. They have the cutest little corner sinks now, I don't know what we're getting but it will be worthy of being vain if it wants to be.

Here's standing at the window looking out of the bathroom. It's skinny an odd, but it works in a ... never mind. That was wrong. Now I'm the psychopath. Moving on. 



Here's the 2nd floor bathroom, missing a jerry-rigged (which comes from "jury-rigged") old pedestal sink that the plumber suggested we might be able to sell to cover his charges. And there's the radiator that is still connected because the plumber really does not want to remove it, but he says he will if we're going to cry about it and Stan knows I'm going to cry about it so he clenched his jaw, widened his eyes and motioned with his eye balls that the person standing behind him with folded arms and clenched jaw and squinty eyes is gonna cry about it.  Got that? It's coming out. Come hell or...well, never mind that too.



The plumber laughed along with me when Stan said, "Maybe leave the plumbing in the wall here available in case "the next person" wants to put a shower here." Yeah, in case another PSYCHOPATH wants to buy this particular house again.


Maybe the word for people who ruin homes with their jury-rigged Mr. Fix-it Handy Dandy I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it anyway ways should be called "homeopath" instead. That's taken, though, I think.  And I think I shouldn't write for the public while doing home improvements.  It's not the person I want to project.

Comments

Paul Nichols said…
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

(Word verification: galicr, almost "garlic." Were you suppose to have written about your cupboard.?)
Mom said…
Looks like you're sort of making progress.
rosemary said…
You are exploring uncharted territory my friend...and the plumber and Stan are stand up men. Maybe you could have a good bye vanity party and put the serving table on top of the radiator.....just a suggestion.

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