5 December 2008

So no...we're not dead...yet...

It's been what they call "a flurry of activity" the last few days. The last of those nasty wooden shelves has been painted. Very painstaking work, that, because they're made of slats of wood spaced far enough apart that you can't use the roller on them and when they're brush painted, they're prone to dripping paint like crazy. It is my belief that they are the original shelves purchased from Zellers or Ikea or somewhere, for cheap, way back when the store was stil in its infancy. I occasionally think somewhat unkind thoughts at the person who, at that time, decided it was a good idea to them dark purple (what on earth was wrong with the natural wood finish?) Anyway...

My eternal gratitude to Allison Currie, Alexis (sorry, I can't recall your last name right now but as far as I know you're the only Alexis around...), Chris Wityshyn, Craig Sheppard, Alice Borawski, and Cam Marshall for taking on that daunting task. It's taken the better part of the week just to get these done because we have to shift them out, three shelves at a time, so that the product currently for sale has somewhere to live. If you come to the Open House and find something you want to buy has bonded to the not-quite-cured paint on the shelf, please let us know...we'll free it for you using a variety of clever methods that we've already had to work out.

Also, I want to thank Cam twice here because he's given up an entire week of his life to help us out with some really awesomely disgusting jobs. Jobs that *I* probably wouldn't do for any amount money, he's doing for us, out of the goodness of his heart, and I have no idea how to repay him. Example: there is a room on the new side of the store that faces out onto the back parking area. I have no idea what the Leprechauns were using for this space but OMG (yes, *that* bad) was that room a pit from a dark and firey region of Christian Lore. Let me be clear: I don't think the Leprechauns had anything to do with the state of the room. I just think spaces get old and stale and deteriorate all on their own given enough time and an ambivalent landlord.

Imagine a bedroom sized space, painted a dilute Pepto pink, with um...stains...soaked into the walls. There are holes in the wall, including a cat door sized square cut right through into the bathroom hallway in the corner. Actually, I'm pretty sure it *was* a cat door. The carpet, an anonymous dark brown, is nasty. It's also recently been flooded by a mishap involving a handyman who actually thought it was a good idea to fix one of the toilets using rotten plywood from the old Where Faeries Live sign that was out by the Dumpster. I wish I was kidding but I'm not.

And the room is cold...I mean...*cold*....like someone there needs an exorcism or something. But it's not that. It's the fact that, looking through one of the holes in the wall, you can see two inches of airspace and then the concrete cinderblock of the outside wall. There is absolutely no insulation in there except for the still toilet-water-soggy yellow foam that someone has painstakingly and thoroughly shoved in all the cracks where the drywall meets the floor.

There is a window in that room - a steel mesh covered window that has a...you guessed it...pink! tablecloth stapled over it with yellow insulation shoved behind it. Oh, and another layer of clear plastic stapled over that. I shake my head with wonder at the person who did that...could they not feel the icy air whistling in through all the other cracks in the wall?

So...long story short, Cam helped me tear out the carpet, tear down the two outside facing walls' drywall, jam bats of insulation in there and reboard. Sounds easy. Wasn't. Trust me on that.

But that room is going to look SO much better soon.

There's more to write but we are late for an appointment.

Later...

Also, don't forget , our Open House is...ack! Tomorrow!