After procrastinating for months, Sargie and I finally tackled laying flooring and installing a new commode Tuesday in the downstairs bathroom.

April 8, 2020 - Wednesday morning

30 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Another beautiful day dawns on Pentoga Road. It feels especially good knowing the bathroom floor is finished... save for one piece.

Yup, one lousy piece. I knew that one box of the vinyl tiles would be cutting it close, but for what they cost, I was willing to take the chance that we'd make no mistakes and could save money by fully utilizing each and every piece.

Wasn't so.

When we ended our labors yesterday, we were one piece short of being finished. No mistakes were made and all the remaining scraps from the entire project fit into one hand. 

We're going to have to purchase another box and have plenty of pieces left over. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

With intermittent rain falling, I skipped my usual morning walk on Tuesday and headed to the shop to fix my garden wagon. A brace had broken under heavy weight last fall and needed replacing.

I love my wagon. Initially, when Sargie gave it to me as a birthday gift, I mentally poo poo'd the idea of a grown man pulling a Red Rider around the yard filled with toys.

The wagon has pneumatic tires and is rated to carry several hundred pounds. I've used it to haul sand, rocks, Grady, full flower pots, wood, Sargie, and anything else that requires brains rather than pure brawn.

I might have overdone it last summer. While carrying big, heavy, rocks, a brace broke.

Sargie occasionally wonders why I save some scrap metal pieces, those that might be used in the future. 

The answer became obvious yesterday.

I had saved a bracket from an old garage door. Not knowing what its future purpose might be, it just seemed too good to throw away.



I cut, heated, pounded, ground, and bent the thing into submission.

Unfortunately, the same happened to my left index finger which wandered away from the rest of my hand and got in the way. It didn't take cutting by the angle grinder nearly as well as the steel on which I'd been working.



No doubt, it could have used a stitch or two, but after finding a spare tube of super glue, the two sides were reunited. Other than being a bit tender, the finger is no worse for the wear.

Sargie accused me of being a Mississippi Brother Garry wanna-be. Garry lost the tip of his thumb years ago while working in his shop. Thankfully, I still have my index finger.

After some heating and bending, the brace was complete, the wagon reassembled, and made ready for another summer of abuse.

The rain continued to pound down. 

It was time.

Exhaling a big sigh like that of an inmate on death row heading down the hall for the last time, I carried in the box containing the vinyl flooring for the downstairs bathroom.

Sargie thought ahead and took out the vinyl pieces to warm up. Sitting in the garage all winter, they were anything but pliable.

There was really nothing wrong with the old flooring in the bathroom, but then I'm a guy. What do I know? Sargie said it was time for a change. 

Before

The faux brown wood flooring was replaced with a weathered barn siding look.

I am a bit perplexed. Why do they make flooring pieces so perfect? Obviously, the manufacturers are unaware that hundred year old houses are anything but straight and square. You'd think they'd make them crooked to match. 

Unfortunately, we had to cut and trim the majority of the pieces to make them look square. In the end, it all came out well except for lacking the one piece.

After

 The old commode was replaced with a new, super dooper, high end, water saving, model. Wearing seat belts and donning a helmet is optional. 

It's a good one.

It's daylight and time to go for my morning walk. We've talked of making a quick trip for the other box of tiles so we can finish the bathroom, also making a dump run. The trash cans are full and the bears are becoming active. 

I love bears. I don't love picking up garbage after they've feasted on last winter's discarded garbage.

Time to get a move on.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
Pat Sheahan and I were fishing off the coast of Lazaria (Bird) Island several miles out from Sitka, Alaska, when this puffin came flying in begging for food. We spent most the afternoon hand feeding him our halibut bait (fish scraps).
This picture has been used several times in various publications.