Getting plastered

I figured out the other day I have lived with my husband in our house longer than I lived anywhere else. It was close, with the house I lived in when I graduated being only slightly less, but still, the most consistent chunk of my life was spent on this farm and in this old house.

And weve been working on remodeling it the whole time.

In those first few years, we dumped money hand over fist for results that could be felt but not really seen. We replaced windows, added insulation and replaced or added wiring as was necessary. Several of the old windows were cracked (all were single-paned), there was no insulation in any wall, and the wiring, while safe and functional in most respects, was simply lacking. The number of outlets in each room (one or two) may have met the standards of a wealthy family in the 1950s, but it failed to meet basic standards for millennial electric usage. #firstworldproblems

Once the basics of function were handled, we began replacing and repairing items of more cosmetic value. The kitchen got some laminate hardwood over top the previously visible plywood subfloor. The cast iron tub, which was barely tolerable in the summer and downright freezing in the winter, was replaced. The washer and dryer were moved out of the basement and into the bathroom/laundry room.

In recent years, we began repairing and replacing the plaster in the areas of the house where we live and occasionally entertain. The old plaster, made on site in the 1880s, was mixed with horse hair curried from an animal that probably lived here at the time. (A red horse, it would appear.)

The plaster is incredibly heavy and exceedingly dusty. When chunks of it fall off the wall often our first indication that it needs to be replaced it creates a dust that seeps into all facets of our existence and is extremely difficult to clean up. Like pet hair, you think you have handled it all, then discover there is a little more. And then a little more. Swiffer doesnt even have a product to handle horse-hair plaster.

We have taken to closing off all rooms except the one we are gutting, opening all of that rooms windows, and using a fan to blow the dust out as control measures. It was somewhat successful, especially when my daughter is in charge.

My oldest daughter likes to remove the plaster. She climbs up on a ladder with a putty knife and a five-gallon bucket and scrapes it off as gently as possible. She has been working in the hallway for a few weeks now, an hour or so after school when the weather permits.

Soon, the plaster will be down and it will be ready to rebuild. Then, my husband will begin the process of beautifying the walls, stairs, railing and floor. I will begin trying to clean up all of the dust that still managed to creep under closed doors and through curtains into rooms where it was never supposed to be.

The jury is out as to who will finish first.

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Getting plastered