Wanted: A Good, Prompt, Honest, Hardworking Handyman

Now really... is that too much to be asking for?

All I can say is, I hope the very nice man that came to our house today to give me an estimate on work that needs to be done in the master bathroom has all of the above qualities. So far, I can vouch for the "prompt" part. All the other descriptive adjectives remain to be seen.

We need to have the shower replaced in our bathroom. Not only the pipes and the fixtures, but the cultured marble enclosure. There's a slow leak in the shower fixture and it's leaking inside the wall. Unfortunately, one wall of the shower backs up to my husband's clothes-closet and he noticed some wet spots on the wall in there. Ah me... here we go again. Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled because I know only too well everything I always have to go through to get good work done. Contrary to popular belief, little Disney elves do not appear in the middle of the night and have everything perfectly done by morning. (If only...)

And I can't compare this project to the new backyard fence we had installed a couple of weeks ago. This work will be done inside the house... and I'm going to be a bit more 'picky' about what goes into that bathroom than I was with the fence for the breezeway.

Last time we had major plumbing updates done here was a few years ago. We had the vanity sink countertops in both bathrooms replaced, plus the old kitchen sink was replaced with a new porcelain sink. I can honestly say that those three updates were responsible for at least 78 gray hairs. (Or silver foxes, as my cousin R calls them.) I do not handle all of this stuff very well. I like things nice and neat and orderly, and any kind of a work-in-progress gets me stressed. Except if I'm doing the work, because I know I'll get it done cleanly and quickly. However, plumbing isn't exactly my forte. Not even close.

The contractor who handled those other bathroom jobs for us was a peach of a guy... very nice... well-spoken... and on-time for the estimates. And that was the end of his punctuality, I might add. He was as cute as a button, as my friend A remarked... and when he finished his work here, he started work on updating A's kitchen. He started her kitchen work in January and we joked that if she was lucky, he'd be finished by Thanksgiving. I think he was still working in her house for the 4th of July and most of Labor Day weekend. I could've never gone through what A did-- living in her house in the middle of all of that construction. They pulled out everything in her 'old' kitchen and gave her a totally new kitchen. They would've had to pack me in a box and send me out of the state.

I would've liked to have been able to call that guy back here, because at least I know he does good work. In his own good time, but good work. A's kitchen now looks like a page out of a decorating magazine. But I know what it took to get there, and I didn't want to go through that. I asked the man today how long this shower-repair and update would take. Four to five days, said he. (From his lips to God's ears, as my dear friend Blanche would say.) I resisted the urge to ask this nice gentleman if that 4 to 5 days took into account the fact that the Astros are now playing the Cardinals-- and does he have tickets to any of those games? And if, by chance, the Astros win, will he be celebrating for three nights after the last game?

But of course, I didn't ask him that. Nor did I tell him that if he messes up the floral wallpaper in my bathroom, I will hold him hostage till it gets fixed. My husband doesn't seem to be stressed about this work that is about to be done here. Maybe he doesn't realize that all of his clothes will have to come out of his closet so they can open up that wall to get at the pipes in there.

Silly me. As if he will be the one taking everything out of his closet. He will be safely at work, in his quiet office. I will be here, trying to keep Gracie from barking at the workers because she'll have to stay in the laundry room while this work is being done. I could keep her on the screen-porch, but the cats will be out there during the work. Just to be on the safe side-- I don't want to take a chance of them running out the front door as workers come and go. And besides, if Gracie is there on the porch without me being out there, she will run straight through the screens if she sees a squirrel in the backyard. Which she has done before. And you know what that means.... I'll be looking for another handyman to fix the screens.

The worst part of this soon-to-be-started bathroom project? My husband will have to use my beautiful Victorian powder room for his showers. Lord, give me strength. I never take a shower in that bathroom. Only bubble-baths. I have candles and scented soaps all around the tub. The walls are papered with a vintage Victorian wallpaper that my friend A found at a New York estate sale before she moved down here. No cabbage roses in that wallpaper-- just hundreds of beautiful Victorian ladies. As you sit in a hot bubble-bath, you can look at the vintage ladies by candle-light. I've got beaded purses and gloves hanging from the towel bars in there. Pretty perfume bottles, vintage lipstick holders, fluffy towels with either a leopard embroidered in the center or the word "Queen" stitched along the top.

Now, honestly... there is no way anyone can take a shower in that bathroom without getting all of those beautiful accessories sopping wet. Which means I will have to un-decorate and de-chic the "Victorian" bathroom until work on the master bathroom is finished. Unless, of course, I can convince my husband that bubble-baths with lighted candles and beaded purses are the latest thing for manly-men. Complete with a "Queen" towel, of course.