not my usual pretty picture
The cabinetmaker arrives with his crew. Four hours late. No call. No apology.
“I was expecting you at 10,” I say, hoping to hear he lost my phone number or he was delayed by some unexpected four-hour traffic jam.
“I have a cold,” he replies.
I accept the excuse (sans apology) because my need for integrity is stronger than my need for truth. If even just a sliver.
The owner of this company is a craftsman, a carpenter of 40 years. He comes highly recommended by a neighbor. Recommendations are important to me. When I interview him I learn that he lost his wife last year. I find myself wanting to make him cookies.
He makes a sketch. There is something refreshing about seeing a hand drawn sketch of the bookshelves that will hold my dearest possessions: my books. I hire him. My heart says this man will do a good job, he’s been at this a long time, he knows his craft.
The installation, however, is a nightmare. The installers reek of cigarette smoke and sweat.
I hover.
“Will you protect the railings? The NEW floors?”
The installer sneers. He scatters a few blankets over the railings. Grabs one of mine when he runs out of his. Throws a drop cloth on the floor. By this time I’m texting my beloved rather intently, “They’re here. Are you coming home?” No response. He wrote them off at noon and left the house to run errands. He’s probably off somewhere drinking a cold beer. I feel a subtle, unspoken message in his absence: “You hired these guys. Deal with it.”
Chin up.
By the time my husband arrives on the scene my study is a shambles. Caulking covers the walls and ceiling. Along with my desk and the bathroom sink. You know, the one with the fancy fixtures, think miniscule grooves.
Needless to say the drop cloth does not protect the new floors. They’re taking a beating. The closet doors go bang amidst coughing and hacking and sputtering. I guess the installer is sick, too, or maybe it’s the cigarettes he smokes every time he walks out the door to grab a tool. My house reeks. My husband winces.
“Go up there and keep an eye on them. This is your study,” he says.
At the end of what feels more like an assault than an installation, the bookshelves are in place. I fear the floors are damaged but it’s getting late and I am so ready to have this crew out of my house. I usher them out the door and tell them I will clean up after them.
In the light of day I see a job that looks nothing like fine craftsmanship. I also see cuts and dents and scratches in the wood flooring and black marks most likely left by the rubber feet from their ladder. I’m devastated. This is my study. My sanctuary. I spend more time in this room than any other.
After two sleepless nights and some gentle prodding from trusted guides and confidants (love my tribe), I decide to write the cabinet maker a letter outlining the damage and requesting reimbursement for the damage to the floor. I attach thirteen photographs. I decide to seek another contractor to see what can be done about the shoddy installation job. Needless to say I’ve lost my faith in this man. He directed his crew. He watched their process.
To his credit he sends his installers to survey the damage and take their own photos. I can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t come to see the floor with his own eyes but at this point all I want is resolution.
And integrity.
29 thoughts on “Construction Weary”
How incredibly upsetting for you!! I’m so glad that you tried to hold him accountable for the shoddy work. Integrity is so very important and unfortunately, it is often in short supply. I hope this gets resolved to your satisfaction soon so that you have your beautiful study back just the way you want it. And I would smudge the place of their bad energy!
Laura, I’ve been smudging like mad. My husband thinks I’m crazy but it was days before I got the ‘scent’ of them out of my study. *sigh*
Yuck. You must be so ready to be done at any cost, but I’m sending you “persevere” mojo. At the end of all of this, you’ll have that study of your dreams. Can’t wait to see the final pics!
Thank you, Karen. At this point all I can do his hope that he will follow through with the reimbursement. My floor man came today and he sees no other option than to pull out one third of the flooring. It’s that badly marred and hacked.
It’s a good lesson for me to see! I tend to trust recommendations and not follow through on checking them out.
Yes, and while I was waiting for them to arrive that fateful day I hopped over to Yelp and was pretty horrified with the reviews. Note to self: be diligent.
Ouch! I am really upset on your behalf, how devastating! Aargh, it is so strange that craftsmen seem to be a breed of their own no matter in what part of the world they live… and like Laura I am happy you contacted the man to hold him accountable.
Yes, Carina, I think the title ‘craftsman’ is earned. Going forward I am going to be much braver and really ask more about the workers these ‘craftsmen’ hire. Composing a list. xxoo
I am so sorry to hear about this experience Sue Ann. I know this feeling well, it has happened to me on so many occasions since moving into our new home that I’ve paused all work. It’s heart breaking. The only question I keep asking myself is “how will I meet this”
Sending love.
That’s such a good question, Angela. And yes, it really gives me pause. So grateful we ended up with a good floor person. This could have been a much greater nightmare. xxoo
Sigh. This is why I’m so hesitant to take on the redo of my bathroom. I’ve had great experiences and ones in line with what you describe. There is no rhyme or reason. I’m so sorry you had to go through this ordeal. I will pray for a perfect resolution.
As I age, I hope I’m developing the backbone to say no…get out of my house if it just doesn’t feel right. We have that option. Why am I so afraid to exercise it?
If you reside in Maryland there are official agencies who will help you to #1 get your house back on track and #2 stop this guy from savaging any one else’s house. (If it sounds like I have a lot of – too much – experience with this sort of thing, I do)
I would also thoroughly inform whoever recommended this guy to you what your experience was. I truly feel your pain. At the end of the day, you can fix it all. It’s just a drain of money, time and spirit doing so. *sigh* Have a piece of fortifying chocolate and remind yourself that this too shall pass ! (But do the community a favor and do what you can to get this guy OUT of the contractor gene pool. Post your ratings on Angie’s List, Consumer’s Checkbook, BBB, etc.)
Yes, Gail, thank you. This is, indeed, a deep energy leak. Working toward resolution here and fully prepared to tend to the ‘gene pool.’ which sadly I didn’t consult until it was too late. *sigh*
Contstruction woes–so sorry, Sue Ann. It’s hard enough to have lovely competent people in my space, much less someone who I’m at all wary of. I’m inspired by your willingness to go to ground via cooking and am doing that today after a busy challenging period. I’ve got veggie broth going on the stove, made a healthful pretty lunch, and am going to chill out. Even put the big grocery shop on the back burner so I can gaze at the future, play in the present, and rest today. Passover turkey broth shall wait. BTW, I found organic whole spelt homemade matzoh! It is beautiful and tasty. I would love to catch up in person or via phone very soon. I think of you frequently.
Hugs to you.
BTW, I think it’s really brave that you put the whole enchilada out there. It helps us be brave, lessens any shame in making mistakes, and instructs, all at the same time.
So good to hear your ‘voice,’ Suzie. Sometimes I am stymied by how much something like this depletes me but then I remember I’m human. I don’t have to see the light at the end of the tunnel when I’m right smack in the middle of chaos. Just knowing I have the resources and this too SHALL pass keeps me sane while acknowledging the angst. I have never been served by ‘stuffing’ it. I’m so glad you are listening to your body, nourishing yourself deeply and replenishing. Look forward to catching up with you. xxoo
I know what stuffing it looks like, and it ain’t a pretty picture. Glad you are able to find perspective, despite the chaos. Looking forward to reconnecting live;)
Wow Sue Ann – this brought up so many memories of our major renovations almost 19 years ago which have left me a bit battle scarred. Not to mention the upteen minor ones we have done over the last 25 years. I hope it all works out – it is good that they came back to check – I am holding the space that they will honour the work, with integrity and pristine craftsmanship. Wishing you a great outcome xx
Thank you, Maria. I am working on it! Expecting the best, orchestrating the rest. xxoo
Been there! I have been through lots of construction, most of it good, some very bad. My husband is an attorney, it always helps to have a lawyer in the family!
Ahhhhhhh, yes. I’ll bet it does! I’m hoping this gets resolved without those measures. Insurance adjustor comes this week. Fingers crossed.
Oh, Sue Ann! My stomach churns in empathy! I am so glad you sent that letter; I’m as far from confrontational as one could be, and I know how hard it is to expect great craftsmanship and then not only be disappointed in that respect, but to also have the rest of your home violated as well. Good on you for doing something about it and I hope the guy rediscovers his integrity and does everything you ask.
Thank you, Laura, so far we’ve gone from bad to worse but I still have high hopes he’ll come through. xxoo
Smoke and scratches? Those disrespecting villains!! As I read your post, I could feel my own shoulders tense up around my ears. We, too, have a newly installed glorious wood floor that I have hovered and protected through 2 recent paint jobs. You are not crazy or demanding; you have worked hard to make the money for this renovation, to make the design choices, to make the hiring decisions to beautify your home. I understand your desire for it to be “just right.” Hoping to hear of a happy resolution soon.
Ha, ha, Laura, you make me chuckle but yes, you are so right, we should never have to apologize for ‘hovering’ or asking that someone be respectful of our property. You can bet I’ll be hovering over the painters who arrive this weekend. Thanks for the vote of confidence. xxoo
Stand your ground. You are in the right. You will receive resolution.
By the way, did you pay these people with a credit card? You may have protection with them. Chase (God bless them) refunded my deposit on my cyber-home when a web developer delivered the equivalent of scraped floors on my website. I let them fight that battle for me, and they won.
Sue Ann, the night is winding down, and I am bleary-eyed. I meant protection through the credit card company. Just in case that wasn’t clear. 🙂
Unfortunately I paid in full with a check and when I went to stop payment on it it had already been cashed. *sigh*
ugh. i’ve been following your story on facebook and there is only one word for it. upsetting. i am hoping for a solid resolution (which may end up coming in an unexpected way). in the meantime, i am crying for your beautiful new floors (and for you).