Renovations from Heart to Home

          The process of renovating a home, depending on the size of the project, can be an intimidating project.  Even small repairs sometimes can lead to big stress if we're not comfortable having strangers in our home.  It's important to ensure a comfort level with your builder that reduces the worry and stress during your renovations so that not only is the completed project beautiful, but the actual process of construction is a pleasure as well.

            Likewise, for the small business owner taking on increasingly larger budget projects, there are easily as many areas of stress and pitfalls that can overwhelm and damage projects.  The homeowner can relax once the dust has settled, but the owner of a construction business can face a few more projects knowing the profits will go to repair the mistakes of that last disaster.

            The result of this cocktail mix of potentialities is that renovations are often approached with dread and uncertainty on the one side and bravado and a thin veil of strength on the other.  Having heard all the stories of great projects gone terribly wrong, the fear that things can go bad will invite the reality that they just might again.

The solution is communication

            Talking to each other is absolutely the best way to avoid problems in any situation.  A renovation is no different.  In some ways it resembles a marriage (albeit short) and a blending of families and requires all the skills, patience, finesse and forgiveness.

            For a renovation project to be successful, all tools must be laid on the table. The builder presents a portfolio and the homeowners must open the doors to their intimate closets.  Fears and insecurities must be made as evident as the dreams and desires.   Beyond the fancy pick-up and the big front door, the people should meet as partners, joined together to create something wonderful.

            Being open and honest from the beginning, having a realistic conception of amount of dust that is generated goes a long way to easing through difficulties when the roof is torn off or the owner runs late on a decision.  In any good relationship, talking through the problems, ensures that problems can be removed and not grown to inoperable tumors.

Money is the root of all good

            People are often uncomfortable talking about money, but in a large renovation, a lot of the green stuff must change hands and it is not always easy.  The grease to get the project complete must be applied efficiently or the engine comes to a grinding stop.

            Ego and power must be left at the door as much as it is possible to leave the muddy boots.  Certainly if "X" is not accomplished, "Y" dollars should not be paid, but often in the shadows lurks an insidious creature exerting control or undermining a sense of worthiness that can easily foul things up.

            Money should be treated with the same care, respect and ultimate neutrality as the lumber for which it is exchanged.  It is the commodity that builds the structure, no more or less than the nails that hold it together.  One cannot be done without the other and so it is best considered with emotional neutrality as any other item negotiated and executed in the contract.

Playing in the Sandbox

            Staying relaxed and focused on the end result keeps homeowners and builders on the same team.  The project is the uniting factor and it should always be remembered that it is in the best interests of each party to get it done in the best way possible. 

            No one really wants a problem, but some are inclined by nature or experience to look for them and in projects of this size and complication, there is no shortage of possibility.  A better understanding of what it takes from both sides will more often create a meeting in the middle that results in an addition or renovation in which all can take pride.

            This is a blog about finding and nurturing that sweet spot for both the homeowner and the small business owner.  Like marriage counseling, it shines a light on various aspects of each individual, sometimes in celebration and sometimes with discomfort.  The purpose is to make the union stronger.

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Split Down the Middle

           Just like life, comparisons of Fixed Price and Cost Plus contracts have no either/or equation.  Without advantages and disadvantages to both, the argument would have been put to rest a long time ago.  It does not have to go on forever, however, when a little creativity and education can lead to solutions that combine the best of both.

            Contracts are fear based and only necessary as a resource to cover the contingencies for when and if something goes wrong.  If all the smiles and good feelings could last as the work was completed, there would be no need beyond the handshake, but in remodeling especially, surprises do occur and disagreements almost always happen.

Tough questions

            The bottom line is that owners have a budget stretched to the max and enter the project terrified it will still cost more...a whole lot more.  Quality is also important.  They do not want dust in their lives any longer than necessary and they want to know the builder will be around to fix any problem.

            The builder wants to be paid on time and fairly.  Period.

            A contract that meets these issues is the mutual goal.  The type of contract finally signed gets the project started, but more than the ground rules, the agreement subtly establishes the kind of relationship going forward.  Like love, we enter full of hope and the best assumptions and are usually at least willing to consider divorce somewhere along the way.

Plan A, B and All of the Above

                For a fixed price, the builder takes all the financial risk and races to completion with fingers crossed.  In a cost-plus contract, hands need to be held: reassurance is as necessary as the broom at the end of the day.

            A fixed price contract full of allowances or a cost plus agreement with a cap on specified areas are both ways to align what often seem like opposing needs between the home owners and builder.

Selected Items               

           Novice contractors can often be caught estimating a standard grade toilet and have to mask their surprise later or risk ill-will when the client finds the second most expensive choice in the catalogue.  A 2x4 is a 2x4, but so many features in a remodel are not generic.  The difference between painted and stained trim, for example, is a huge expense to swallow if it was not clearly defined in the price tag.

            Identifying the variables that require choice and naming a specific dollar amount--even if open-ended--grants the owner the satisfaction that the change is in their control.  Color choices, siding type, fixtures and doorknobs are all important and oh so subjective points of distinction where clarity makes all the difference.  Eliminating obvious surprises makes the rest less painful.

            With no victim, no one is hurt.

Not to Exceed    
            Placing a cap on costs while still operating with the flexibility provided by a Cost Plus contract is a solution from the other direction.  Arms and legs are not threatened when limits are placed either at the top or on quantifiable areas. 

            To alleviate concerns about gauging and motivate profit incentives, the difference between the actual cost and limit can be divided between the owner and builder.  Bonuses can be placed on timelines to ensure efficiency.

            Some aspects like the roof replacement can be estimated and billed as a line item at a fixed rate while something unknown like reversing a stairway can just be estimated and billed out accordingly.  This requires a little more education for the laborers to track their time accurately, but provides peace of mind for all by being transparent and fair.

Attitude Adjustment

            Accountability is key.  Presenting a bill with labor lumped all together as a single item creates distrust while dividing them by worker and categories makes the owner less inclined to count them from behind the curtain.    

            The point of a contract is to be fair and clear, to avoid misunderstanding and provide a resource to settle disagreements.  A partnership is preferred to an adversarial relationship.  The tools are available to make it so that the owners in the end can be comfortable stepping out onto the balcony they just paid so much to have built.

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For What it Costs

          Time and material, or cost-plus contracts, first appear to homeowners as a blank check for disaster when contemplating a remodel.  Unknown conditions and unscrupulous reputations create boogies that make any Halloween night seem tame.

            As part of the decision or after deciding on a builder, the next important bullet point is the type of agreement that will set the tone for the relationship throughout the course of the project and possibly far beyond.  The consequences are potentially huge and indefinably dynamic.

            A fixed price contract is the first most obvious choice for the owner who expects to purchase a remodel like a shirt off the rack.  For the agreed price of X dollars, a list of details is established to be completed satisfactorily before payment is issued; no surprises and only negotiated pain.  While it is clean and seems risk free, the line in the sawdust, unfortunately, has less obvious drawbacks.

            With little room to cope for a surprise behind wall number two or unpredictable conditions of weather and sub schedules, the contractor, no matter how conscientious, may be forced to make compromises to minimize the damaging effects to his own best interest.  The fixed price forces a focus on profit over quality that may not be apparent until paint peels or the floor finally squeaks in alarm a few years later. 

     Conversely, if all goes well, the homeowner ends up paying much more than it actually cost.               

Shoulder the Risk

                A contract based on the actual cost with a mark-up for the contractor's efforts may feel like an open wound about to bleed profusely, but with proper bandages applied, often ensures a completed project with a more balanced result.  Better than a win-win, the contract that pays for what it actually costs can create a trust between the parties that makes an ordinary project brilliant.

            A time and material contract shows every invoice for materials and sub-contracts, adds an agreed upon percentage for the contractor's risk and warranty, and charges labor at specific rates per hour.  Bills are presented weekly or twice monthly and due immediately, providing full transparency and continuous opportunity to re-evaluate the relationship at each juncture.

            In this version, an honest relationship is critical and attention to detail ensures a good outcome.  The builder makes every decision on quality first and cost second while the owners are able to tweak the design without constant stressful and time-consuming re-negotiations.

            Assuming there is not the luxury of an unlimited budget, the builder is not forced into the position of always saying "no" to changes or having to seem like a "nickle and dimer" having to revisit the contract at every new idea.  It is important, however, to regularly update owners on the effects of apparently small changes that can actually change the bottom line significantly. 

Trust the process

                The most important concern in a time and material contract for the owner is that the labor cost will be out of control.  Owners can be quickly consumed by the minutia of pennies and lose sight of the dollars saved by efficient planning.  Animosity can brew while the carpenter whistles merrily along.

            It is easy to be swept up in a day of counting coffee breaks and judging production on the basis of over-heard conversations. Idle stances may disguise industrious calculations and a casual huddle may not show the hours saved in scaffold building afterward. After two days of absence, the quality of doors painted in a dust free environment is missed in the lack of apparent activity.    

Accountability & Communication

            With today's software and text messaging standards, there is no reason to leave customers or builders in the dark as the process evolves and questions arise.  Fears can be quickly and easily laid out for solutions.

            Programs like Quickbooks, the industry standard, can easily tabulate every nail and hour on or off the site.  Microsoft Project and other CPM software present a schedule and chart the deviations and delays.  A spreadsheet comparing the estimate to the actual costs with projections to finish can keep anxiety under control.

            Ultimately, the kitchen table still reigns supreme at the end of the day where a cup of coffee or cold beer keeps the conversation human and on task, focused on the facts.  The ability to speak openly as partners on the project makes all the difference to the quality as egos and ownership are dormant and the goals are aligned to make it the very best it can be.

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Fixed Costs

A major decision for home owners before embarking on a renovation is whether to agree on a fixed price with a contractor or build the project on a straight cost basis. The question, in one form or another, has been around as long as carpenters have been competing for work.

                A fixed price or lump sum contract is when the builder estimates all costs, allows for contingencies and marks up for profit, presenting a bottom line to the owner.  If actual costs are below the estimates, he wins; if overages occur, the problem falls on the builder.  There is no going back to cry, "Ooops!"

                A time and material contract, also known as cost plus or T&M, arranges reimbursement to the builder for every invoice with a little extra percentage for the trouble and warranty.  It costs what it costs and the risk for the owner at the beginning feels like a potentially whopping blank check and the reputation of being a fool.

                Of course, there are variations in between these two options and no single version works for every client, builder and circumstance.  Once again, the answer boils down to the matter of trust and the comfort zone of risk each party is willing to hold.

                Fixed price contracts are every home owner's first choice.  When we go to the store to buy a shirt, we look at the price tag attached and pay it without negotiation or concern for how much each of the buttons, fabric and thread might have cost individually.

                Often the initial phone call to a builder includes the desire for a square foot price (the average total cost divided by the square footage of the area affected) which is really an inaccurate measure for a remodel, considering the size, scope and complications have no average.  At the end of the first look interview, after numerous ideas have been bantered around with no clear decision, the potential client inevitably asks for a ballpark figure ("I won't hold you to it," they promise), a wild guess that either sets the bar at a ridiculously low number against which all is measured or whacks the builder right out of the game entirely.

                After careful consideration, the fixed price contract defines the size of the field, all the rules and players, even declaring the home owner a winner while the builder never knows until the dust has settled and the green grass is grown in how well he has done.  Settled on the price, the owners can go on to deal with the physical stress of disruption and door knob decisions, well-prepared to have checks ready according to the schedule in the contract. Relieved from most painful surprises beyond inconvenience, the job gets done and they transfer the funds.

                The builder also enjoys the benefits of planning and if all goes well, packs up tools with a tidy smile and a thicker wallet.  A clear payment schedule and description of scope, defined allowances and method for change orders, and the orderly completion of tasks creates an equally seamless flow that turns each large check into countless smaller checks good to their subs 30 or 60 days later, or to employees that very same Friday.  Everything lines up and everyone is happy.

                The problem in a fixed price contract arises when Mr. Murphy appears to blow the best laid plans away.  A simple, but large line in the estimate might have been miscalculated (computers can do that, ha-ha) or misplaced entirely.  Bricks instead of wood might be hidden unconventionally inside the wall.  The customers may be so convinced they said "blue", it is better to paint the room over than to argue the point and fail to receive the check that is needed that Friday to bring the plumber back on Monday.

                To keep the labor cost under control, certain tasks are inevitably hurried and corners might be cut more quickly, a little more squarely than round.  The in-stock sink could be purchased instead of the special-ordered extra (and more expensive) myl of stainless steel, looking just as shiney upon installation, but showing scratches much sooner.  The decision to let a bad cut fit or replace the board can more often land on the cheaper side of "close enough."

                Conscientious, well-organized and financially comfortable builders do just as well as the home-owner with fixed price contracts, often better than with the less risky luxury of  a cost plus contract.  The underlying costs, however, in quality and dollars could eventually add up to far more than fabric, thread and buttons combined.

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Nailed Down

For most projects, the most important and over-looked tool is the contract. Large or small, a clear agreement in writing and with signatures can avoid more damage ultimately than the shoddiest roof.

During the courting period and initial stages of projects, everyone is on their best behavior and words, far more than actions, are setting the tone. Purposes are aligned and the satisfactory completion of the project is beautifully envisioned.

When problems arise, however, the true strength of the relationship is tested, bending and relaxing under the stress or suddenly snapped by the weight of unforeseen pressure. A well-written contract can provide the support and recourse to keep negotiations and ultimately the project itself on track.

Like a pre-nuptial agreement, many people--especially hearing that it will only be a day or two, in and out, for sure--waive the formality. The implication of distrust may create animosity and feel like an insult to integrity, but a professional with experience understands the legal binder protects the contractor as much as the homeowner. There are as many nightmarish clients as bad builders.

The size of the job can determine the complication of the document, but for any project, the basic agreements should always be in place and well-stated. Similar to the journalistic rules of a first paragraph, the who, what, where, when and often the how should be clear in every contract. Most importantly are the clauses relating to "how much and when".

Smaller jobs can be a one page proposal with space for signatures to accept the terms. The vitals are still necessary, even if stated as casually as "replace the kitchen sink" at an hourly rate of "X" plus the cost of materials (with a mark-up). The proof can be in the process as long as the outcome threatens not to break either bank or back.

In my own business, the division came at about $1,500, more than a week's worth of work, or involving several distinctive components. A mid-size contract with more detailed specifications naming the type of door, quantity of siding and allowances for choices that could be open-ended ensures the two-headed purpose of protection and flexibility.

The larger projects invite multi-page, multi-tiered documents covering the basics, coloring the details, connecting the schedule of payments with performance, and carefully delineating ways to separate should that become necessary. Room for change is still important, even as details are crossed and contingencies dotted.

Architects and lawyers often advocate a standard contract which is easily available through the AIA. While it provides valuable clarity in commercial situations without a lot of expensive negotiations, home owners can be overwhelmed by inappropriate clauses and the builder too constrained by the stringent definitions. Simple is better and a contractor with enough experience to do the job should be able to produce a tried and true document off his word processor.

With a contract so specific, the temptation is to name a hard, fast and intractable dollar amount, but all of my experience--given a strong sense of mutual trust combined with a good estimate and specifications--an agreement based on actual cost is the fairest to all concerned. With clear parameters, solid budgets and honest communication, time and material contracts work very well.

Regardless of the best made and laid plans, things change and room must be made for Mr. Murphy to show an ugly face. Allowances and change orders are important parts of any agreement and coverage must be in place in case disaster leaks through a roof, spills out of a can or is short-circuited by a wire that should have been there, or worse, should not have.

Once a wall is framed, the view might invite a window that was not originally figured into the job. While the temptation and urgency of the schedule might dictate a quick decision to proceed and figure out the cost later, postponement of the cost implications can have serious repercussions burning a deep hole in the pocket of the builder or a terrible sticker shock long after the fact.

Regardless of size, a written contract is the best tool to ensure a project goes smoothly with as few negative incidents as the law of averages guarantee will happen. The comfort and ease with which one is negotiated will often be an indication of how well the parties will work together throughout the adventure.

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Of Pounds and Ounces

Once the project has been designed and contracted, the final preparation is mostly physical. A plan to manage life in the midst of construction chaos can make all the difference in the success of the renovation.

Although it is possible to remain on the premises during construction, a whole-house makeover by its very name suggests it is best to find another place to stay. When the roof is removed for a second story addition, the risk is just too great that all relationships could be ruined with the furniture if a big storm blew in.

Besides the inordinate amount of dust, progress is hampered by the complications of co-ordination. Large projects can take four to six months to complete and like an earthquake, the stress level doubles in intensity with each increment.

Most budgets are unable to afford the luxury of a second home, so a good contractor knows how to minimize the impact and dissipate the tension that is as inevitable as the mess. Experience teaches anticipation and the law of Murphy should guide every decision.

The first question when assessing a bath remodel is if there is another sink, toilet and shower on the premises. A transformation of anything beyond paint should require the expectation of a week's disruption. When only one bathroom exists, the toilet must be reset at the end of every day and alternatives such as the workplace, a friend's home (never family) or the gym should be considered for showers.

Kitchen renovations also are complicated. In the best scenarios, for a week to a month, the main appliances if functioning at all are often around different corners and countertops are shared with dirty tools. I recommend lots of pizza and the husband can earn major points planning a surprise dinner out at a critical moment (not too fancy if the bathroom is out of commission as well).

Most often the area under construction can be isolated with care. Modern invention provides contractors with stretch poles to make plastic barriers easy. Large air filters demonstrate care and concern even if they fail to collect all the dust.  Make the door nearest the work easily accessible from the inside and out.

No matter where the work is performed, dust permeates every thing.  Furniture near the work area can be covered with light 1 myl poly and removed again for living at the end of the day.  To stay fresh, laundry should be done more frequently. Dishes often need to be washed before as well as after every meal.

If the work is upstairs or at the back end of the house, it helps to put drop cloths along the path to keep muddy boots from scratching or staining. Clear the hallways of clutter and flower pots and even take the family portraits off the wall because the workers will likely come through with plywood or sheetrock, a tile saw and open cans of paint.

The constant rattle and clatter of hammers and thumps of lumber sends a vibration through the house that creeps items on shelves precariously close to the edges. Work in one room can drop a painting off the wall on the other side. Even if the contractor knows, the worker might not realize the fragility of something, so precious items are best moved out of danger ahead of time.

Financially, it is vital to have clear specifications in the contract about amounts and stages of payments and be prepared with money available when those points are nearing. The builder may push a particular item forward to benefit his cash flow and expect an immediate check while owners may need advance notice to transfer large amounts of money. The more clarity between the parties ensures the work flows without rancor or interruption.

No one can think of everything, heading in to a project, and the simple replacement of an upstairs sink may unwittingly turn into replacement of the hardwood floors below, but looking around with an eye that expects the worst can avoid some simple and irritating problems. A full pound of prevention when preparing your home for a renovation may ensure the unexpected catastrophe weighs far less.

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For Better or Worse

Once the scope has been established and the cost estimated, a contract must be written for the work. Many builders use—and often lawyers require—the standard AIA contract of many many pages. In my mind it really has too much verbiage and “boiler plate” legal phrases to have much bearing on your basic residential kitchen remodel.

A good contract can have a load of line items to define schedule, change orders, furniture protection, and snow removal. My list has grown along the way as a new problem is encountered.

The real point of the contract is to define the cost and scope of work so that owner and builder alike can have as much agreement as possible. Where decisions have been made, name brands and colors should be included. No detail is too small because at the end of the project, if they see red, it solves the dispute to point out that “red” was in the contract.

Without decisions, an allowance with a specific price marks the item for later adjustment. My contracts name a specific “builder’s grade” brand and standard color. When they upgrade (and the usually do), the cost is raised with a change order. In case they don’t, the product named in the allowance must be of sufficient quality that we both can live with.

While the owner naturally wants a start and finish date, too many variables are at play at either end to commit in a contract. Lawyers suggest a penalty clause, but that immediately transforms the project energy from teamwork to adversarial. The builder’s ability to stay in business is directly related to the list of satisfied customers, so he has strong incentive to ensure timely and efficient work.

Ultimately, the cost and a schedule of payments is the main purpose of the contract. It is easy to reach an agreement about what should be done physically, but who pays for what, how much and when is where disputes arise. Whether a Fixed Price or a Cost Plus contract (to be discussed in another entry), all of the detail helps to smooth an inheritantly rough and unpredictable process.

So much can change over the course of a project. Surprises lurk behind every wall. Crew availability fluctuates. The owners can divorce or even die. The contract with both signatures and all attachments, including drawings and budgets, proves a partnership to start. A line at the bottom that agrees to seek mediation before a jury, if trouble arrives, can restore that balance. A project completed is so much better than starting all over with a different horse and just another contract.

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First Visit

Considering that a simple bath renovation can be $20,000 and a whole-house make-over ten times that amount, it is amazing how little time and money people have to make such a large decision. In actuality, the first visit can decide everything for the builder, including not being invited to return.

Amazingly also, often the most basic courtesies can be overlooked, or worse, ignored completely. I have a notorious reputation among my co-workers for being late (always trying to squeeze something else in), but for a client, I am usually complimented for being on time. Since cell phones have become a tool (and we really did manage to live without them), a call acknowledging 15 minutes of tardiness is actually impressive.

In the last ten years, it has become common that houses are “shoeless”, so removing them immediately, waiting to be asked, or tromping right off the last job site and splattering mud all over the carpet of this one gives the owner a lot of information. I know a contractor who whipped out medical booties upon arrival and immediately established his expensive-but-worth-it reputation.



Again, this is the time to get to know each other. The builder needs to get oriented to the house, learn a little about the client’s needs and their expectations. Owners also have a lot at stake when inviting a stranger into their home to make months’ worth of mess and (hopefully) clean it all up again better than ever before. Feel out how you might get along. Are you each understanding the other? Are the ideas translated accurately? Finding a common ground beyond the project creates a connection and the trust begins to grow.

Standing in the space to be renovated while chatting through introductions gives the builder a chance to eye the surrounding trim, measure up the style and characteristics to be matched. As the owners explain their thoguhts, reassurances and expressions of confidence draws out their enthusiasm. Perhaps a brain-storming suggestion leads them to simple solutions they had not envisioned on their own. In the best of circumstances, it is an open dialogue of questions and ideas to shape the scope of the project.


Only after the full tour and careful, focused listening is the tape measure produced. With a CAD program that requires accuracy, I take my time, sketching the floor plan and writing every pertinent measurement on my intake sheet. The owners feel useful holding the “dumb” end of the tape; others rush off to tend to children, leaving me to calculate alternatives and ponder scheduling issues.




This modern age has given us digital abilities to take all the pictures, angles and details we need to recall accurately the existing conditions a week and three other sites later. Being thorough, even if the work is limited to one room upstairs, it matters to see the electric panel to know if there are additiional circuts and no ancient wires. The heat system could have bearing on the plans, or a critical post directly below the renovation might be necessary.

How much to discuss the budget is a topic all on its own. Some people tend to hold their number closely, fearful that revealing it will raise the price to just over that amount. Others admit they have no clue what such ideas might cost (they usually balk and postpone). In actuality, I believe—being honest and forthright—that a discussion of the budget on the first visit is healthy. The builder gets a sense of how serious is the prospect. The client may get a reality check to temper their expectations.

Usually, the owner cannot resist asking for a “ballpark” estimate. This is extremely dangerous because no matter how informal their request may appear to be, an inaccurate number offered at this early stage can haunt the negotiations a year later. I have learned to quote in very ridiculously broad strokes ($50 to $100 thousand), gracefully exiting with a follow-up date and an agenda to narrow that number to within 10% on the next visit. Then, they're looking forward to my return.

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First Contact

It starts with a phone call, any time of day, sometimes on the weekend, even in the middle of the night. Listening is extremely important because an enormous amount of information is available beyond the dialogue. Speaking is equally important because at any moment, for any reason, the prospective client may decide to break off, declining your services.

Admittedly, for me, that first phone call of inquiry is an adrenaline rush of such addiction, fueling my determination to continue my business when a wiser man perhaps would have sooner opted for a different path. In those first seconds beyond recognition that this is a Prospect, the future gleams so brightly. Although it could be just a handyman repair, my impulse is to listen for the words that speak of a large, creative and rewarding project.

If it turns out otherwise, it is important to continue the call with just as much respect, integrity and humor as you would the Dream Client. For it can easily turn out that this foot used to hang a door may still walk through the opening. Numerous times, the conversation during the odd job has revealed that an addition is being contemplated. Or the neighbor, seeing the truck, invites you over to take a look at their house.

Of course, much depends on the source of the call and whether it comes randomly from the Yellow Pages or directly as a result of reputation and reference. Without bragging, a bond must be established, often as easy as recognizing the neighborhood. Perhaps our children have played against each other in soccer, or we love the same restaurant around the corner. Potentially, you are going to make a mess in their home, it helps to show them your humanity.


Once the conversation moves from introduction to detail, I have found a simple form helps to keep on track. For me, it covers the pertinent facts, gets me to the appointment on time, and provides space to write down notes and dimensions for the estimate later.

A long time ago, I had a tendency to rush to impress, obnoxiously eager to the point of thinking I could prove my expertise by finishing their sentences—and would often be wrong. Now I listen. They have been thinking, planning, articulating their ideas. I listen, ask a few questions when needed, and answer with reassurances their uncertainties or insecurities about the process.


Listen to their ideas.
Ask about their needs, their long-term plans to stay in the home. Have they experienced a renovation before? Survey carefully their clues to determine their commitment to the project. Often, I realize, my intuition can accurately read if the client is serious or just dreaming.

In addition to a specific date and time to meet—preferably not today (implied hunger), but within the week—it is important to leave them with a sense of excitement and anticipation of your visit. In the past, it was helpful to “assign” a simple task such as noticing their movement in the kitchen, or a date to the bookstore to look at design magazines.

Now, with web pages to boast, a portfolio brought to the initial meeting is unnecessary because they can see your work in the meantime, and imagine their own project online in the not-so-distant future.

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A Bath Remodeled (part one)

I have a theory that a bathroom can be torn apart and rebuilt gloriously new in a week—start on Monday, finish on Friday. Not often physically working jobs in many years, however, I have yet to prove it true.



To a client, I predict a bathroom remodel will inconvenience them for about a month. I like to say we will put a guy in there, close the door, and let him out when it is finished. Realistically, it works best with one multi-talented carpenter. Accommodating all the schedules of all the trades can stretch it into months.

The market for a bathroom renovator is wide open. Consider all the homes built in the 70’s and 80’s. The fixtures are worn out, the fan broken (if there was one), the window inefficient, and the tile cruddy. A smart carpenter, selling a package deal, could stay busy endlessly.

In thirty years, I have contracted, designed and completed more bathrooms than I want to count. Depending on their choices of products, a standard 5x8 renovation , including floors , walls, new fixtures, vanity, fan, and a window, typically costs between ten and twenty thousand dollars. It can be done if it is their only bath, but it really helps the job if they have somewhere else to go.



I actually don’t close the door, but take it right off the hinges to provide better access. I would love to salvage, recycle and minimize the tear-out, but it seldom pays to save or work around anything. Gut the place right down to the frame and you can put it back straight and new.

This week, I have actually gotten my hands scratched and dirty. Since it was so cramped and there were square inches to steal from the kitchen, I took a rounded wall out completely, sacrificing character on the outside for practicality on the inside. Dead spaces no longer needed for ductwork also came out of the floor plan. Now there is plenty of room to flap elbows.

An inefficient cobweb of plumbing, I tore it all out and rerouted to add a second shower head. The floor will be level, the walls square and sporting a tall cabinet for linens. An exhaust fan vented through the basement to the outside will make a big difference. Better lighting and a GFI complete the circuit.



The fourth day into the project, I won’t be making my dream deadline, but taping the sheetrock has begun, and it only gets easier from here. It takes more time than I would like, but the satisfaction of falling asleep as I write this—muscle sore and finger cut—is sweet reminder that it is good work, so much well accomplished.

Beyond the dollars earned, one has the right to feel proud.

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A Good Carpenter is Hard to Find

This month, this year the news is full of interest rates compared to housing starts, and how the construction business is in a slump. What few people are talking about is the rising age of the average carpenter and its effects.

The health of the housing industry is clearly documented as a marker for the economy as a whole. A warning sign of trouble, new home sales are also seen as the light at the end of a recession. Few dispute the importance.

Therefore, like global warming a few years ago, a shortage of skilled people to build and repair our homes looms to plague and confound expert predictions, and threatens to influence our economy in frightening ways.

As an employer, I’ve witnessed this for many years in my own microclimate. The qualified, responsible, productive and reliable applicants are usually weather beaten, comfortable in worn clothes, perhaps missing the tip of a finger. Now it is easy to think maturity and family responsibilities bring out the best, but 30 years ago I was competing and working with many young guys who believed themselves to be working towards a career as builders and craftsmen.

The business has always been transient, so perhaps you didn’t always see the same young guys on a given crew for very long, but there were plenty of eager strong muscles around. As a way for ski bums to earn their next winter or to pick up dollars for a few months in a new town, construction has served the youthful well.

Now, however, in this age of computer riches within easy clicks, wearing a nailbelt is not so fashionable. I see guys try it, but many do not last long. It is dirty, uses untested muscles. In the winter it’s cold, and the summer too sweaty. Too exhausted to go out and party, many don’t appreciate the good night’s sleep.

The effect of this shortage can be devastating. With contracts to perform and a shortage of labor, I’ve put men in charge who inadvertently committed costly mistakes. In demand, the experienced guys require higher wages and the cost of a house rockets higher than a barrel of oil. Clients are bewildered that no one returns their calls, not understanding how busy the good ones are.

Like learning to build green and turn off our pick-ups at the lumber company loading dock, we need to attract a younger generation to an honorable profession. Vocational tech schools, builders’ associations, and journals all help. Perhaps more blogs--invitations in their medium and language—can help.

Bottom line requires that we all help each other to raise the bar and attract new blood. This needs to be a business where hard work has its reward and one doesn’t make the kinds of mistakes as I have made, that hurt clients and subs and himself alike, leaving an otherwise honest, motivated and qualified builder wanting to quit.

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Roof

These chapters are best viewed in order:

Design

Foundation

First Story

Second Story

Second Story Addition

Roof




This new world of technology is so full of uncharted territories. The click of a button opens the world so immediately—and so irreversibly—to portions of a web better left ignored. In my enthusiasm to announce my nascent blogging efforts, I indulged in sending an EMAIL which strikes too closely to my own form of SPAM.

But larger than the issue of sharing private addresses in too public a way is the response it invited from someone representative of many I have hurt in this business. This issue is forefront in most moments of my every day and seriously affects the comfort of my immediate family. I am not shirking from responsibility for causing financial pain as a businessman, but it was something I was planning to address in “Chapter 2” of my blog.

In no way do I intend to represent myself as an expert in all corners of remodeling. In fact, this blog is a direct result of shutting down my own business, having been clearly unable to balance a masterbuilt product with a satisfied client, a profitable business, and a sustainable lifestyle.

If anything, my purpose is to caution any and all other eager carpenters from leaping into a similar venture with only a truck full of tools, confidence, and the best of intentions. From the other side, I’d like to help prospective clients to understand that a remodel is much more complicated than simply tearing a kitchen apart and putting it back together again.

Any expertise I prefess to put before the reader concerns the knowledge that no matter how thorough the plans and quality of experience at the start, the actual execution of the project is what really matters. While risks can be minimized, no one is immune from the problems. A carpenter with no formal training can, with a single-contract, become a multi-million dollar business. Conversely, an established company may hire a crew chief who fails to reveal he (or she) is an alcoholic going through divorce, and places a foundation wrong, bringing down the whole house.

Shelter is one of the original three needs. In the big picture, we’re all just trying to keep a roof over our heads. Some of us can help the process. Others definitely cause harm and expensive penalties. For most, we fall in that nebulous middle ground: a swampy, tenuous, slippery place where we attempt to maintain a foothold the best we can, and keep each other company along the way.

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Second Story Addition: Fire on the Mountain

These chapters are best viewed in order:

Design

Foundation

First Story

Second Story

Second Story Addition

Roof




The flames could be seen from anywhere in the Valley, giant rolling, towering columns dancing in the dawn light. Racing around the side of the mountain to get there by truck, I could see them almost all the way, all the time trying to make them arise from another spot, an empty place.

But there was nothing else it could be.

On February 4, 1978, Tom and Lane's house burned and life became marked as "before the fire" or "after". The linseed rags smoldered in the dark empty entry all through the wet night, only taking hold and turning to flame to waken us to the horror at dawn. Leaping from the truck, I could hear the sirens so far away beginning the long climb up the mountain. At the window I'd just built so carefully, I strained to see inside, but all was black and amazingly still and silent compared to the roar around me (little did I know how close my escape from death just then, how stupid to be so close to the inferno hidden by soot on the hot, ready-to-explode glass).

Desperate to make a difference, I grabbed the hose and tried to spray the back wall, but it only was a drip, drip of useless drops (of course, the lines were broken inside). I threw the hose on the fire and with a shovel beat out sparks falling in the grass all around me.

In truth, it was all useless, way beyond my control and ability. What had been so lovingly brought to life was dying before me. Nothing to do but stand out of the way and weep, four of us huddled, comforting each other where no hope could be found. When the windows finally did blow, great balls of fire as big as Volkswagens lept out, and 25 years later talking to me on the phone as she weeds the garden, Lane still found glass.


Finally, the trucks (hundreds of them it seemed--fire trucks followed pick-ups) arrived onto that tiny lot, men pouring out and running everywhere. I saw three from the lumber company, one who had delivered the concrete and helped us so patiently when our forms blew out. Two more had hooked the pipes in our trench to the water system below. They all came to help and soon it was out.

The house (too young to be a home yet) was still standing, but freshly oiled, it was scorched all the way through. We would have to tear it down, and the worst call--telling Tom and Lane the sad news--was still ahead of me.

Roof

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Second Story

Thesechapters are best viewed in order:

Design

Foundation

First Story

Second Story

Second Story Addition

Roof




Spanking fresh out of college with a writer's degree and no idea how to use it, the invitation to help my sister build a house on the Oregon Coast was a perfect distraction. "On the edge of the Earth", Lane and Tom had purchased a chunk of cliffside 400 feet straight up out of the ocean, on the side of a mountain sacred to the Northwest Indians for its spiritual energy.

The Nehalem Valley had three little communities of a few hundred people each, and was otherwise home to eagles, elk, sea lions, and a cove for whales. You can enter on Highway 101 from the north or south, or one bumpy curvy road over the mountains, but regularly after a storm, there is no way in or out.



The lot was cleared and leveled enough to fit a small house, a pile of lumber and a few cars. I set up my tent in the bushes just a little below and off the path that circled the property. We cooked on an open fire in the rocky pit left from an ancient tree. My wages were $25 a week and all the beans I could eat. The view strethed 45 miles down the coastline and forever out to sea.

This was paradise.

An architect building his dream, Tom had designed this sweet little cottage--very green 30 years before the concept became popular. The toilet was considered a composting toilet, but was really a well-vented 50 gallon drum and a hole in the floor, which was later abandoned once kids were around. The "refrigerator" is still working fine: just a cupboard with holes to let the warm air out and the cool air in. The countertop came from a tree on the property. The walls were oiled wood salvaged from other buildings.

Tom was working largely in theory and the carpentry experience of a few summers. I had last worked for Krutsky several years earlier and was very clouded by my studies and dreams in between. But together, and with the passing help of a few friends, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Determination was our most valuable tool.

Being our first poured foundation, the forms broke and spilled 2 yards of concrete down the slope. With electricity unavailable until the utility trench--hand dug 300 feet down the mountainside--was fiinished, every board, every piece of plywood was sawn by hand. Utilizing rickety step-ladders and crafty supports, just the two of us were able to raise the massive 18' header that was the keystone, the arch that framed the ocean view.

Each night, tired, we ate our beans, and in the darkness, huddled by the fire, I played guitar in tune with the Ocean's murmurous roar. We formed deep friendships with neighbors who invited us to shelter when it rained too long, hard and miserably. Weekly, we drove the two hours inland to their home in Portland where Tom and Lane had business, and I walked the city streets. And we could shower.

Each step of the way, like a significant moment in a lifetime, was ackowledged and ccelebrated. Reaching the highest point, an evergreen was nailed to the ridge honoring all of the trees that go into the building of a home. The first and last shingles on the walls were important events in completing the shell, especially to us living in tents. Insulation installed meant at last we could move inside, out of the deepening cold of November, to a mat on the floor. Gradually, Tom and Lane moved in their most precious possessions: the persian carpet, Great Granny's jewelry, their 6 favorite records.



When the floors were sanded--a long exhausting week of noise, grit and strain--they finished all the wood surfaces with Linseed oil, threw the rags in the back corner, and went to Portland for the rest of their belongings. Readying to move on to explore opportunities for a writer in San Francisco, I remained behind, staying at one of the neighbor's who needed help on an addition of their own.

Second Story Addition

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First Story

These chapters are best viewed in order:

Design

Foundation

First Story

Second Story

Second Story Addition

Roof


The first morning of summer vacation after 2nd grade began as sunny and bright, and as all vacations should, full of promise and excitement. Then a dump truck lumbered down our little lane, pulling a backhoe, and it got all the better. A truck I recognized followed. Overcome with curiosity, I raced after them and discovered an addition to my school was about to begin.

Every working day of that summer, I was there. Designed (as it turns out) by my father and contracted by the man who had already framed 2 additions to our own home in my short life, this was an adventure. The ease with which that machine broke ground and gobbled dirt into huge piles was marvelous, still a satisfying sight for me on a project today. I signed my name in the fresh concrete and made “mudballs” out of the spillage, piling up an arsenal that my friends dared me to use against other “friends”.

Ed Krutsky was a Pennsylvania traditional Quaker living in a cooperative community. A craftsman by trade, he knew his way around many subjects as revealed in countless coffee-break conversations with my mother over many years. He employed carpenters of similar diversities, likely setting the all-time record for a construction company with college degrees. His three teen sons were there, growing into the business, including Ned who was featured in the book "House" by Tracy Kidder, a great read for anyone involved in a building project.

Also on the crew was an old black man, Harold, who chewed and spat and smelled of liquor, though I didn’t really understand at the time. At minimum wage (then probably $1.25), he defined the expression “grunt labor”, but he was as sweet, gentle and encouraging to me as any man could be. He gave me a shovel and let me fill the trenches beside him, showing me that you stood behind and shoveled forward effortlessly into the hole instead of twisting, turning and dumping, so it could be done in a zenlike way all day long, day after day.

The rest of the crew began to trust me to fetch their tools. Soon, I was carrying the 2x4s and nailing off sheathing. The first fiberglass itch in my throat came that summer as they let me staple, then cut the insulation. By the end, I was painting, measuring and nailing baseboards in the rush to get finished before school reopened in September. It certainly wasn’t the most efficient use of man per hour, but I didn’t slow anyone down, and no one could be cheaper (they used to joke about my paycheck on Friday afternoons, but Ed never wrote me one).

Sometimes my friends came with me, but not joining in, they were soon bored and wanting to move on. They didn’t feel the sweet soul-satisfying whack of driving a nail home. They couldn’t see the progression as concrete led to wood, led to sheetrock, led to finish.

And they certainly could never know the silent fierce pride I felt years after looking from the baseball field at the building I’d helped create out of sticks and sweat.

Second Story

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Foundation

These chapters are best viewed in order:

Design

Foundation

First Story

Second Story

Second Story Addition

Roof



My father was an architect, designing schools, labs and offices. A part of every vacation was looking at buildings along the way. As an adult, I'm still learning that many of those were not actually his, but destinations for us which he viewed like an artist in a museum. Early memory for me is of a bewildered weary group of kids on the sidewalk looking up, looking around, going in, coming out, and back in the car again.

My earliest memory is awakening from my nap to see a giant steam shovel ("Mike Muligan!" my Mom called) approach the house to make mountains of dirt for me to run over.

We had five additions put on this architect's home. It was not unusual to see it featured in Sunday supplements or a part of house tours. On a little lane, cars often slowed down and circled back past the house of glass. At night, they could see right in and, mischeivously, we'd be five little kids dancing wildly.

My father built the original house on evenings and weekends after the War, moving into a small unfinished space with his wife, her grandmother, and their baby. He built the master bedroom after the second child, just before me.




The living room came next with memories not only of the excavator as mentioned, but also of our dog falling into the cellar hole, my first time on a ladder (2 rungs), men with sledge hammers knocking holes in our wall. The "Girls' Wing" was built in 1961 when I was old enough to hold boards for my Dad and learned a mouthful of curses, a carpenter's tool when things still don't fit right after the third cut.


In 1967, after several years successfully designing buildings for a new company with the strange name of "IBM", and a house full of teenagers, he designed a 2 story redwood work of art. Completely separate from the main house with a pool table and fireplace, the Octagon is counted by many at high school reunions to be one of the best memories of the day.

Finally, the pool was added in the back after the kids had mostly moved into their own lives--my first job as a contractor. Painted black to reflect the impression of a pond, rhoddendrons and sculptures dangle over the water, and natural stones of all shapes come right to the edge.



A home divided by plastic walls and still coated with dust is normal to me. Plans on the table, sketches of addtions never built, talk of the next project is completely familiar, invigorates my brain like food in the belly.

I am born and bred a remodeler.

First Story

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