Is it just me or did something weird happen to the blog posts across Salon's Radio blogs?

There's a migration underway this evening to a new comment server; of that I'm already aware.  But a post from two days ago has sudden coughed up all its apostrophes in exchange for question marks.

Hunh?

9:05:07 PM    comment []

We are into the homestretch, smothered by details and more details.

This photo taken last evening doesn't convey all kinds petty nonsense that makes my teeth itch, but must be dealt with.

It doesn't clearly show eight hours of work on trimming out these foyer stairs, filled with little frustrations.  The finish contractor, a craftsman of the first water, left after his discovery that the little blocks that separate each of the balusters (the spindles or uprights that support the banister or handrail) don't fit properly.  The trough cut into the shoe rail (the piece into which the bottom of the baluster is seated) fits fine, only a single 32nd of an inch difference between the trough width and the spacer block's width.

The trough cut into the underside of the handrail, though, is too wide and sloppy, came from the factory that way.  The spacer blocks are floppy, nearly an eighth of an inch too narrow for the trough.  (You can see all the little spacer blocks, waiting in limbo in a little pile next to the glue bottle.)

The solution: cut all new spacer blocks from maple stock on hand.  It's timestaking, but the finish guy is really, really unhappy with the sloppiness.  I don't mind it, but I can see his point.  Besides, the little spacer blocks from the stair supply company have a weird profile that I never cared for; cutting new blocks will make a smoother, streamlined appearance.

This was the last annoyance of the day after problems with wall straightness, framing errors, misallocated maple stock, so on and so on.

But now, another wrinkle.  I am already upset to tears about the finish on the maple trim, from the newell post and skirt board you see in this photo to all the trim that will be used around the floor and windows.  The painter used an oil-based lacquer instead of a water-based lacquer, resulting in a very yellow appearance.  The wood appears much darker than it really is and is now quite a bit darker than the floor.  The floor has two coats of a water-based two-part finish; the true color of the wood, all the lovely pink and flesh-tones and warmer graining are crystal clear.  The project manager and I talked about this mess for nearly three hours; he swears we never talked about water-based with him and my spouse and I swear we did (hence the special-order water-based finish on the floor).  The painter wants another 5 days and $500+ dollars to strip and re-spray the trim; we don't have the time to do this since we are now a month late, nor could we quickly find and cut another $5000 of Grade A clear maple to replace the already-lacquered trim.

And the stink!  The project manager and the finish guy both smoke cigarettes and cigars; they can't smell the lacquer.  The smell bugs me and the kids; I'll have to air out the house frequently until we move in.  I don't think I want the chemical stench of stripper in the house, too; perhaps the water-based lacquer will seal in the smell of the original lacquer.

So now we are stuck.  I've already told the project manager, no way in hell is he to put the next two coats of lacquer on the trim; if I have to do it myself, I'll find a clear, water-based product that is compatible with the existing lacquer and apply it on my own.

That includes all those brand-new, raw-cut spacer blocks between each baluster.  All 68 of them -- I'll be taping off every baluster, top and bottom, and then finishing them.

If blogging remains light this next week, you know what I'm doing -- as well as working on a number of activist issues.

I will be glad for the day I can concentrate on the latter instead of the former.  I'm now at the stage in this construction project so familiar to expectant mothers, that last handful of weeks when the tedium and heaviness of pregnancy feels like it's been forever and the pangs of birth are only too welcome. 

Yeah, bring it on.  Let's move.

1:09:50 PM    comment []