Tag Archives: pocket door

Hook, Line, Sinker, and Burnout

Yep, that last post was fake, and a lot of people fell for it. Even people I know in real life! I got a nice lady who was pushing a stroller up Pelham road to take the photo, and I stopped traffic when I was putting up the sold sign… with Scotch tape. So to review, I don’t have a trust fund, I don’t want a lawn, I don’t have enough clothes to fill a dressing room, and while my disdain for those vinyl windows was real, I would take care of the water damage and the broken panes in the original windows (which should stay!) first. Unless I was loaded. Then maybe I’d do everything at once. The only part of that post that was true is that I would live very much to see 349 Pelham Road restored. If you want to do it, I can promise you all my love and lots of free beer. And… West Mount Airy is pretty great. You’ll like it there.

But the fakest part of that post was all that ambition. The truth is I got fed up and decided that my sanity was more important than my (already blown) schedule. Last weekend I went to a potluck on Sunday and for a change of pace on Saturday… I helped a friend patch cracks in his plaster. I also got one halfassed coat on my own holes. So yes, this means that I don’t have any mold or other damage! And it’s only the one patch next to the recessed light that will even show. The one where the tape started to peel off in one corner, of course. Arg.

I’m putting a second coat on the other two anyway.

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The plan was to paint the kitchen Easter Sunday. But since I didn’t do anything to the house since that quick patch job Saturday morning, that’s not happening. One other thing I did was retail therapy. Philadelphia Salvage was also in Mount Airy so after posing for the fake photos, I bought a window sash lift for the pocket door to my upstairs hall coat closet. The plan was to use one that’s left over from my parents’ house (also pictured) but this one is so much better.

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So there we are, I was upset with a lot of things, including my disappearing money. And my solution was retail therapy. But it was kinda cheap!

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