Reno Realities

As I write, I sit in my Lady Lair (my den) in the "furniture waiting room". The furniture has been piled here for the last three months because I am in a reno mode. My LL is where I live mostly these days. I moved to this older but bigger place to get some space rather than the urban squash of new tower life. The major part of the reno job is only over a smallish kitchen latched onto a living room but its shelves sit empty and bare without cupboard doors and there is no counter top. The new sink sits in a void and a large piece of cardboard protects the stove top. In the living area, piles of cardboard boxes amongst my furniture as yet unpacked are surrounded by  items that should be in the kitchen but that are currently collecting dust on whatever surface is available. My reno manager is a great guy and it's not his fault that the job clock is slow. Apparently, the rest of the lower mainland is also having renos done and the back-up is horrendous. Those of us who dreamt of the fabulous make-overs like they create in a couple of days on television shows, have made me jaded and for good reason. At least, I tell myself, after three months of limbo, I can use the fridge and stove. No wait.  At one point, I did have to empty the fridge so that it could be moved when a new piece of floor was installed and that took an afternoon. But now, week after week goes by when all that happens some days is a tradesperson with a measuring tape or some kind of electronic thing beaming. My dear manager person kept my ire from getting out of hand after the first two months, but I really do have a reason for impatience. My bathroom sink is currently my only source of water. Like many in third world countries, I have to walk some distance for it. When my eleven evergreen deck trees need sustenance as they do every three days, there is a lot of travelling water. I would love to learn the art of carrying it on my head. The matter of dish washing is another problem. I could use the dishwasher but I have of necessity only enough cutlery and dishes for one. The stove top cardboard serves as my kitchen. When the workers have gone home to meals done in real kitchens, I need to cook my dinners. I slide the cardboard to one side onto the gap that used to be the countertop and proceed. I have great respect for the kitchen sink since bathroom sinks, even nice big ones that I have in the already reno-ed ensuite, are just not made for kitchen ease. On the nice stone bathroom vanity, the all important coffee machine sits next to the toaster oven that I have yet to submit to. My friends ask "Is it finished yet? When can we come over and look?" The answer is "Not yet" and then I disappear quickly so not to answer the "Why?" that I know is coming. "Why?" is that suppliers are booked and I am not first in line. Also, it seems that there is a chain of command in renovations. Certain things have to be done before, after or in the middle of others. You have to wire for lighting before the countertops and then do the wiring and then do the cabinet doors and then do the plumbing. And if you want a list of reasons or excuses as to why a trade cannot show up, I have a thick list of them for you but I can say that the word "mother"comes into it frequently.  My poor manager used to be blond but is now turning a kind of silver grey and talking about retirement.