Last night I finished clearing out the bathroom so that the workmen could begin today. As I did a final cleaning of the tub, sink and toilet prior to their removal, I thought back to when we purchased the house in 1987. Andy was two years old when we moved in the end of June. While the house was pretty well emptied out when we arrived, it had not been cleaned. At all. Before we could give Andy a bath that night, I practically had to sandblast the tub. Ancient non-skip strips refused to be budged, clinging on for dear life to the bottom of the tub and God knows what other various substances. Mountains of old lady hair clogged the drain. Yek!!!
Wielding my toilet bowl brush last night, I reminisced about potty training Andy in that bathroom, and his sister after him. Both of them swam in that tub, then graduated to using the shower like a "grown-up". Is it weird to be sentimental about a toilet?
Well, no matter. The guys came today, and the bathroom is now just a shell. Interesting that they found hot and cold water pipes on the opposite wall, leading us to speculate that at one time there may have been a claw foot tub in the room. There is also some framing indicating that in the past the back of my closet did enter into that space. I'm thinking that before indoor plumbing was available, they probably used all the space for storage. Just a guess.
Apparently the fact that the tub will take two weeks to get here is an issue. Only the electrical can be handled in the interim. They can't do the drywall or the cement board, which means no tile can go up (or down, for that matter). This will put the whole project behind two weeks. Yippee! I tried to tell Jim that we shouldn't start tearing out until all the parts were in, but nooooooo...he just had to get them going. Men!