Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Love Me Render


The times they are a-stressful. Again, and for similar reasons to before: with the building stage of our home extension coming to a close soon, we are fast coming towards the tying of some loose knots. And loose they are, promising to savagely hit our wallets.

Some are directly to do with the ongoing building work. The classic example is to do with the rendering of our house, which – in its previous, unextended, incarnation – used to be rather unique. No worries, said all the builders lining up to give us a quote for our job, we can match the colors so that the new parts of the house look the same!
When our builder actually got to the rendering stage he told us it would be “hard”. What he meant by “hard” was rather ambiguous; if you ask me, the mere act of putting one brick over the other is “hard”. Or perhaps his intentions weren’t ambiguous at all and the word he was actually looking for was “impossible”, because the rendering applied to the new parts of our house not only failed to match the old, it also happened to be plain ugly.
It looks like the only reliable solution would be to repaint the entire house. That’s nice, but it is also costly: more than $3000, and that's after the builder chips in with a quarter of the cost.
Indeed, painting being of a sour relationship with our wallets is a recurring theme. The painter of the house’s interior, already charging us a five figure sum, woke up to tell us – after he already finished painting – that because of our specific choice of paint (see here for elaboration) he needed to apply extra layers and extra labor. Casually, he left us with a nice four figure invoice for these extras.
Casual-ity is also a recurring theme. The shop that sold us our new showerhead delivered it with an installation diagram according to which our plumbing and tiling of the new toilet room was made. However, when the builder actually got to fit the showerhead he stumbled upon the uncomfortable truth: that diagram they gave us does not match the actual showerhead we chose. Tiling had to come off, plumbing had to be redone (no doubt at the expense of some of the wall insulation), and all for a stupid mistake done at the hardware shop without them even realizing the gravity of their mistake. First Choice? More like Never Again.

Then there are the costs involved with us moving back into our house.
These involve bringing the house to a liveable state (cleaning) and sorting through all the issues that will surely line up one by one – say, a dishwasher that did not enjoy being an integral part of a construction site for so long.
On the other side there is us getting rid of our rental place: breaking the lease, preparing the place to look sexy upon inspections, opening the house for inspection, cleaning it, weeding, waging war on the real estate agency to get our bond back, and probably more.
Oh, and the moving itself. Not only of us and our stuff but also of our ADSL!

We may be back at our house, eventually, but we certainly won’t be settled. There will be much unpacking, including that of all the stuff we had stored away. There will be that whole thing of getting used to life in a sort of a brand new house. A house that will also be mostly empty, furnishing wise, forcing us to hold our credit card erect and do some shopping for the likes of a new sofa and, almost definitely, a new TV too.
We are fast becoming our bank’s best friends.

Image by Peter Guthrie, Creative Commons license


Uri said...

Hang in there. You might not be at the very end of the torment, but you’re probably much closer to it than to the beginning.

I hate moving.

Moshe Reuveni said...

Yep, moving sucks. This time the catch is that there are many out there in need of our cash, more than there were when we moved out.

Moshe Reuveni said...

And thanks...