We are running a self-imposed race, trying to see how quickly we can complete a   house renovation.   Things are flying by so fast that I can hardly remember them all at the end of the day.   Just today we scheduled the gas plumbing work (to start next Tuesday), had two meetings with “Handy Randy” about the punchlist and windows, bought a washer-dryer combination, selected shades for   five windows, finalized our paint colors and phoned them into the painter, and shopped for a half dozen other things.   That was on top of a regular working day in which quite a few little dramas unfolded.

Tomorrow will be even busier.   The only way to get it all done and remain sane is to divide the work across the team, which is Eleanor and I.   We’ve always had a clear delineation of responsibilities in our relationship, rather than both of us trying to do everything equally.   That works for us, especially in situations like this where the task list is long and time is short.   Eleanor was out in the car all day taking care of a dozen things, while I stayed back at the house and fielded phone calls and contractors.

Strangely enough, I feel very little stress, other than concern about staying close to budget.   We just get up and do what we need to do each day, and we sleep well at night.   I think the reason this process is going so well is that we have less fear than we have had in previous renovations.   That’s the advantage of experience — fewer unknowns to keep you up at night.

The window estimates are in, and they will put us a solid $2,000 over budget all by themselves.   We also realized a couple of days ago that the master bedroom would be virtually unusable without some sort of blinds on the windows (we have a massive 8 ft x 4 ft window looking out to the mountains — and the neighbors), so we added the cost of shades into the budget.

With overruns like that, we’ll have to cut a few corners in this phase.   We’d like to replace all three of the cruddy old sliding glass doors but realistically we’ll have to keep them in place until later. We are re-using the 1971-era GE electric oven, which is identical to the one my mother had in the house I grew up in.   It will work fine until we are ready to buy a newer one. We’re also going to use the Airstream’s microwave until we return to the house in the fall.

The budget is a very real thing for us.   We have a spreadsheet that I built last May when we first bought the house, which itemizes every penny we are spending or planning to spend.   Every little receipt gets entered into it.   We’re not deluding ourselves about the cost of this work, which is good but also disheartening.   Those little trips to Lowe’s and Home Depot for light fixtures, caulk, tools, bulbs, grout, and sealant?   $875.75 so far.   Appliances?   $3,872 less rebates that will arrive later.     Let’s not even talk about the cost of the kitchen cabinets, or the gas plumbing.

By the standards of home design magazines and TV makeover programs, our budget is ridiculously small.   We’re renovating an entire house on less than what some people spend on their bathrooms.   But to us every penny feels a little foolish since we have lived so incredibly cheaply on the road for two years.   What we spent on a refrigerator and cooktop would easily put us in the national parks of the west for a month. At times like this I am not sure if perspective is a good thing.   It is hard to rationalize the value of the house in the light of our past two years, so I keep reminding myself that someday we’ll be happy we bought a home base.   I will, right?

Ironically, tomorrow we will receive a visit from Bruno and Leila, who have come all the way from France to tour the American southwest.   Bruno is one of the very few Airstream owners in France and an admitted lover of all things American.   We’ve never met before — although we’ve tried — but we’ve corresponded for years via email.   Bruno and Leila will be coming over in the midst of the painters taking down our ceilings, so it will be interesting to see their reaction.   The house should be in a pretty awful state.   Perhaps we’ll just give them a tour of the Airstream parked in the carport.