#and then doing gymnastics instead which just fucked up my joints real bad

[be-good-to-bugs]

in another life id of done wrestling

[fearfearer]

i have caught up with the magnus archives.

when i started listening, i started a text file to note down any thoughts/confusion/analysis/jokes i had as i listened. i isolated a few bits of it into standalone text posts that i already posted, but here is the whole thing, my long-form liveblog

thoughts on the magnus archive as i listen

jonny sims gives an impassioned performance of someone's statement-- a diegetic impassioned performance, as we witness it being interrupted and resuming-- and follows it up with his own judgement of merciless doubt. classic. why the impassioned performance? he's just a nerd. i dearly hope this is the fandom consensus

every episode ends at the perfect volume to which i have adjusted it, and then i start the next episode and it blares in my ears. i think the volume of the intro must be like 1.75x the volume of the rest

*makes a serious effort to listen to and remember the name and date at the beginning of the statement recording* *forgets completely within 2 minutes*

i saw a fanart of gerard keay and learned [1] that he must be a good guy after all, since they drew him lookin cute, and [2] that his name is not, in fact, jared key. what, am i supposed to be looking at the transcripts? understanding names properly? in my defense, jonny sims clearly articulates "Jared" when he says it. maybe i'm not as good at decoding british accents as i thought. [footnote added in later: ok good i'm not the only one who hears "Jared" and thinks "Jared" instead of "Gerard"]

when gerard keay was described as having numerous eye tattoos on his joints, obviously my first thought was, "including the ankle? so he's count olaf?" because that's definitely a way count olaf would disguise his eye tattoo: by tattooing eyes everywhere else too and becoming The Eye Tattoo Guy. anyway this is part of why i was not at first inclined to think favorably of gerard keay

"The first thing about this statement that makes me dubious is that it comes from a fellow academic." if you know shit fuck you

it has come to my attention that there are ships. makes sense... after all, everyone in every fandom is horny af*. i'm not in deep enough to ship yet but naturally i'm keeping an eye on it

*horny af for depictions of intimacy, sexual or otherwise, but mostly sexual

definitely feel like i need to be writing down every name i hear because they're never not cropping back up but for now i'll just let it all wash over me

so sasha has been replaced with not-sasha, huh? pretty sure. though i'm not good at distinguishing voices. but that sounded pretty different, and my listening comprehension wrt that table isn't that bad. <<as time passes i doubt myself more and more on this point but not enough to go back and listen again

"You believe me?" "Yes, I think I do." (smashes button labeled "CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT" and a loud buzzer sounds)

IT'S MICHAEL!!! i hope michael is a long-term good guy... he's not seeming like a good guy right now... he says he's mostly neutral. vaguely recall seeing a tumblr post about michael in the recent past but that didn't give me any hints and i don't remember it well anyway. michael's voice is good though. good laugh

i'm not good at visualizing characters based on descriptions, let alone based merely on their voices, so the only image i have in my head of jonathan is a furrowed brow

i'm on episode 49 and i don't like jonathan's distrust of his colleagues... i don't understand why his immediate suspicion was that gertrude's murder was an inside job. hasn't he just learned firsthand that the institute is not impenetrable? it's not inconceivable that someone could enter and shoot her and leave. especially when it took place in underground tunnels connected to unknown locations.

there's a good Old Lady Voice Combo on episode 62

so agnes montague was heavily cursed... that's my conclusion after episode 67

elias seems to tell jonathan to "get some sleep" a lot. though it IS generally good advice

episode 70, 9 minutes, 41 seconds: jonny sims's cell phone goes off in the background

small brain: ghost ship medium brain: ghost train galaxy brain: dirt train

i wanted to see if there was fanart of michael so i looked it up... i might as well have googled "blonde slenderman"

sweeney todd mentions tally: II

for some reason, hearing michael described this time as "a tall man with curly blonde hair and an unnerving laugh" puts an image in my head without my consent, and that image is chris fleming. now, he's not quite blonde, is he? but that doesn't change my casting decision, which is now set in stone. hope he does a good british accent

"YES i know what a meme is."

why is melanie the first/only one to notice that sasha is now not-sasha? is it because she is experienced in firsthand paranormal encounters (whereas the archivists are experienced in decidedly SECONDhand paranormal encounters, save for the worm debacle)? oh, my question was answered handily in the next episode. ok.

the replacer definitely limits its glamour to everyone except one person just so that it can be amused by the distress and confusion of the one person who can see the truth. that must also be the reason it chooses a completely different appearance. it surely COULD replace a person with their exact likeness; it just uses another face for fun, and to be satisfied that it can get away with it.

this table has appeared in like 10 episodes... Guess It's Crucial

jonny sims yelling while swinging an axe. jonny sims goes through michael's door (eyes emoji)

the idea of the replacer killing jonathan and not even replacing him brings to mind "AT LEAST RIDE IT YOU ASSHOLE"

wasn't expecting to hear from leitner at this point... he's dropping tons of lore here. too much lore. so much is happening. i have to say i kinda like it better when the stakes are not quite so high as this.

so at the end of season 2, tim and martin believe that jonny sims killed this guy, who they probably don't know is leitner... and we the audience believe that elias, now almost certainly a double murderer, has very quietly stabbed leitner to death. do i the audience believe it? i'll keep an open mind for now. things are not always as they seem. except when sasha was replaced with not-sasha, which was exactly as it seemed. [footnote added in later: looks like elias being a double murderer was exactly as it seemed.]

so jonathan sims is the name of the actual guy voicing jonathan sims. it's a cecil situation. so are they someday going to go back and retcon every episode to change his name, like with palmer/baldwin? or does jonathan sims just not mind being a character as well? as long as it doesn't devolve into RPS i guess it's fine. if there's fanart of jonmartin i hope it doesn't depict them as their actors bc that's too close for comfort to RPS

there's been a truly hellish c*ndy cr*sh ad that has played like 40 times between episodes and i'm pretty well convinced to never ever play that curséd game

elias has some serious blackmail for daisy, huh? that's heavy, having police characters in fiction who do extrajudicial killings. life imitates art imitates life

"i'm not on drugs or anything. ...what? i could be on drugs!"

he said "ample opportunity" but like "amplopportunity" with emphasis on the "plop"

it was obviously elias who delivered the statement to jonathan in hiding, because he knew he would record it despite not being at work... bc he's a nerd

so if gerard keay has eye tattoos, does that mean he also serves the uhh the observing or whatever? [verdict arrived at later: no he just has those because he's cool. or because his mom tattooed him. ok almost certainly the latter.]

"what do i feed it?" obviously you feed it filled up cassette tapes, jon... nothing has ever been more obvious

it's okay that jon very stupidly burned his hand to a crisp. you don't need even one hand to turn on a cassette recorder. you can do that with your nose

so if these people who are wax figures serve the desolation, and not-sasha was spending time at the wax museum, does that mean there is a connection between the replacer and desolation? i think that would make sense, since both seem to enjoy making people feel bad feelings. also i'm starting to think that agnes was not actually cursed, but that would mean she burned that guy on purpose after being nice to him... was she just really selfish in that way? using him to experience Dating and mutilating him when he crossed the line, so she punished him as a cruel goodbye? or just building up his hopes so they will be even more fun to burn down when the time comes?

"perhaps doing a bit of mindless filing will help distract you." honestly that is something i would like to do in real life... i do enjoy a good mindless task. though doing mostly mindless tasks 40 hours a week is not a fun time for me lately. but it would be better if i didn't have to listen to bad radio at the same time

what?! the friendly midnight acrobat described in episode 90 sounds totally non-threatening and i hope there's fanart of it. was that gym just jared the bone turner helping people live their twisted athletic fetishes?! [footnote added in later: YES! god i hope people draw these turn-boned creatures optimized for their gymnastic of choice. show me a person who remade their body specifically for the balance beam]

so the power endowed in the archivist by the viewening is that when you sit them down across from someone they want to interview, that someone will invariably spill SOME beans and think it was their idea. maybe? [footnote added in later: yes.]

ok so Michael "The Distortion" Michael, of fractals and golden ringlets, has specifically tormented this other michael, lichtenberg michael?

jon is clearly moved to ask questions by an external force because he's a sensible guy who would not try to ask questions when daisy is holding a gun on him

i think basira has precisely the same accent as estelle... or maybe just a similarly staccato way of speaking (or of line-reading)

[episode 93] elias: (holding jon's face between two pieces of bread) what are you? jon: (sigh) the archivist...

well, they did something i didn't expect them to do with this show: create a compelling in-universe reason for jon to read statements aloud. because obviously until now there was none.

jon did the cockney accents. (insert emoji for indescribable feeling)

here's the purpose of the pit: if we all climb in the muddy pit together at night, the earthquake will only jiggle us gently and no one will be inside collapsing buildings to be crushed. it's only logical

ok i was gonna say this before but why is jon still at georgie's house??? he's not on the run for murder anymore, right? he has an apartment with all his stuff in it, right? [footnote added in later: i still don't understand why it was like this.]

i will confess that usually once the credits start to roll i zip to the next episode, but this time i zoned out a bit and it's really funny that jonny sims reads out "Rate and Review Us Online" in his archivist voice

a third michael. this one is probably already dead though. unless distortion michael takes over this guy's body or something. oh, jon came in at the end of the episode to say precisely this.

was episode 100 mostly improvised? if so, that would be appropriate. but i wouldn't put it past them to write every stuttering bit of those four statements

MARTIN...................................................................................................................................................... (typed this as martin gave some of his own money to the lady who expected payment for a statement)

i'm skipping 100.1 through 100.5 for now... just for now.

ok so michael is michael but not lightning mike michael, and two of these michaels are dead, but one is something that has never been alive nor dead. got it

everyone's morality is much more gray than i at first anticipated. the only people who seem to be solidly and earnestly on the side of good, as much as possible, are jonathan and martin and basira and georgie and maybe tim?

so michael just died and was overtaken by pseudo-helen? neo-helen? ok. that's kinda too bad, as i enjoyed michael's terrible laugh and unpredictability. but the feeling of michael being revealed as having been michael shelley feels somewhat similarly disappointing (but a bit less staggeringly groan-inducing) to when the mysterious koro-sensei in assassination classroom was revealed to have been a twink in his past. because of course he was. (that's when i stopped reading that manga. too precipitously dumb to sustain my suspension of disbelief.) it's like, ok, you had an interestingly mysterious character going on, but having solved the mystery, what interestingness is left? not much. fortunately this was resolved by promptly ending the existence of this michael and instead introducing new and improved helen

ooh martin has the asky ability too huh? nice [footnote added in later: he only used it this one time, and i'm wondering if they did that and then forgot and decided that jon is actually the only one with asky ability.] [[another footnote added in much later: How did i manage to mistake jon’s voice for martin’s voice? How?]]

the way martin said "kumo ga tabeteiru" in episode 110... alexander j newall does not watch anime

"I'm a book." ~Gerard Keay, 2017

it was a few episodes ago now but i noticed that when jon clearly articulated "Jared" referring to gerard, elias was like "Jared? you mean Gerard Keay?" (pronouncing it like "Gerard.") there is definitely a disagreement between these two (actors) about how to pronounce that name

the eye, the spiral, the end, the stranger, the lonely, the desolation, the slaughter, the vast, the buried, the dark, the corruption, the web, the flesh, the hunt.

Q: why would anyone want one of these rituals to succeed? A: it's their fetish. it's their sexual fetish

ok time to make up names for each possible apocalypse. these are the real and true names according to me, who knows such things: the eye - the viewening the spiral - down the drain the end - the really end end the stranger - oh wait we know this one. it's the unknowing. the lonely - the alonening the desolation - Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Lightless Flame the slaughter - world war all the vast - the expansion the buried - the grand lahar (or the Smothering) the dark - the extinguishment the corruption - the Great Rot the web - the spidening the flesh - the smorgasbord (or the Eatening) the hunt - come and get it

gerry said there was no dark god of indigestion, but i can tell you from personal experience that there is. though it's true that there is also fear involved, so maybe no separate pantheon is necessary

i sense that there is a battle between people who say it like "gotta get myself oriented" and "i feel disoriented" (as feels correct/natural to me) and people who say "gotta get myself orienTATed" and "i feel disorienTATed," and this podcast falls SQUARELY on the latter team. they've said it like 20 times

idk why he has to be such a dick to helen. jeez

the guy who coded his mind into a computer, which of the 14 was that? the corruption? the stranger? gotta be the corruption, but that doesn't fit perfectly with its rot/bugs aesthetic...

speed -> speeding -> sped. heed -> heeding -> hed. thus i decree

in my dream i listened to a whole episode of this show, narrated by gertrude, and i was like "whoa this is cool" and i went to write it down but i was still in the dream and writing doesn't work in dreams :( also any successful writing in dreams doesn't transfer to real life paper :( the only snippet i remember: “...in his white mouth, which had known only bread...”

"I, uh..." Jonathan Sims, a thousand times, 20XX

martin's job is PLAINLY to distract elias and elias barges in like "martin. i see you're trying to distract me." and martin's like "maybe i am!"

o, jonny took a breath. that's good

he wasn't hooked up to an EKG or anything? you spend long enough with no heartbeat that they're just like "i guess we can turn this off"

this episode about philosophical zombies sounds a lot like that NPC meme from a year or two ago... and it makes me kind of uncomfortable, the way this person inspects others to determine whether they are True Minds or Impostors based on their emotional expressions, their eyes... because i don't always do the correct or appropriate expressions, and would someone judge me as being a non-person who is trying and failing to imitate human emotions?

i generally don't enjoy ships that have more-or-less explicit canon support, but i can't say jon/martin isn't good

melanie blaming jon isn't right... no one had a better plan to stop the unknowing, did they? (they didn't!) didn't all of them agree on the plan and understand that they might die? (they did!) she's just imposing survivor's guilt upon him because he survived for supernatural reasons. but it's not like he eagerly embraced his new supernaturalness, or even asked for it outright! i think she's being unreasonable. i didn't like her insistence on trying to kill elias either, even though elias is a huge dick. what's with her?

wait, peter lukas is the lonely? (meme where calculations and equations whiz past me)

jonathan baa'd

oh, see. the bullet is making melanie act without reason. i get it now. can't say i think they had the best approach to getting the bullet out, but all's well that ends well (???)

martin is being prohibited from talking to jon >:I martin is on a first-name basis with peter lukas >:I...

martin grumbles, "i don't like being manipulated..." while obviously and continuously allowing himself to be manipulated

jon is afraid of and uncomfortable with what he's becoming, at least to a degree, right? but he seems to be going about his duties (i.e. feeding the eye) with vigor and without reluctance. is he really that motivated by his own desire to know and understand? who is he doing this for? is the eye's influence on him so strong that "doing what the eye wants" seems to manifest as what HE wants to do?

"He'd place it over the one he wore already, and he would larf and larf and larf" (from breacon’s statement... just heard it like this for some reason)

deep water could be the domain of both the buried and the vast, because you could lose yourself in the vast ocean, but experience the physical effects of being buried under thousands of feet of water...

so tom han was an avatar of the flesh but he ultimately died after being tortured by the spiral... right?

"we're not people, though, are we? not anymore." close enough, i'd say.

jonathan has deployed THREE "I, uh..."s in episode 131 alone and i want to smack him in real life. FOUR NOW. JON. JONATHAN SIMS THE REAL ACTOR. LISTEN... quit falling back on your "I, uh..."s. and if they're written into the script i'll punch whoever did that too. total of five in a single episode. never utter "I, uh..." again

i hope whoever's throat is okay after doing bone turner voice for a whole statement.

jonny sure needs saving quite often, doesn't he.

peter lukas being a slightly chipper advocate for becoming a follower of the lonely is very strange

neil lagorio and his whole cinematographic history is made up but they namedropped kevin costner, who is real

VERY, VERY GOOD laugh at 23:44 of episode 136

melanie getting her session recorded... i was doing audio transcription for a while and you'd definitely come across bits of therapy-type sessions that very much seemed like they should have been confidential.

i wonder if the eye ultimately turned its back on gertrude and allowed her to be killed. if jon could survive a collapsing building, could gertrude not have survived a couple of bullets? wouldn't the difference be the protection of the eye? [footnote added in later: of course now i see who turned their back on whom.]

i'm somewhat heartened to learn that agnes montague was, in fact, a heavily cursed individual, though she seemed to have embraced it to a degree... and she wasn't made of wax.

i like that jon now includes helen in his office politics briefing

basira's like "Edmund Halley" and jon's like "Halley's comet?" (like “Hale-ey”) and two minutes later jon's like "Edmund Hally" (not "Hale-y")

"What's this?" "OH... That's, uh... that's... my rib..." "Right." (tiny clunk of rib being set down)

so giving a statement puts a curse on you... or is it "having a statement extracted / being compelled" that puts a curse on you? and the resulting curse, the fear it reawakens, is that good for the eye, or is that good for the powers that initially caused the fear?

well, i heard a homestuck reference in one of the patreon names at the beginning of an episode, and who is surprised? of course, i'm not one to talk

episode 144- the english think their summer is bad... as a professional "hot weather is bad" person, i feel doubtful, because if the sky is grey, it is not as hot as it Could Be, and therefore one should quit one's bitching

first statement about the extinction... interesting. but hearing martin be a jerk to daisy makes me sad :(

the powers never tell avatars exactly what they need to be doing, but that's just concerning the means. the ends are always clear: the power gets fed. and all of the powers feed on fear. also jonny is horny for statements. i hope, but also doubt, that his harmful behavior is at least partially the spider's doing. oh, i see now that it's not. yeah.

jon wants to eat fresh and delicious statements produced just for him, instead of reconstituting the dusty old statements already in the archive

episode 148 - samson stiller gets a crush. but in all seriousness, is he becoming an avatar of the eye but like, not institute-related? is that a thing? i guess that would make sense, but still seems weird

episode 149 - considering ring -> rang -> rung, we seem to have stumbled upon spin -> span -> spun, and the compasses gently span around (9:40)

does martin have loneliness powers now? it's sad that he is getting lonely... as a lonely person, i know.

the lady on TV in episode 150 was just speaking simlish.

i really want jon to overcome his urge to forcefully take statements because i want to be able to root for him still

british podcasts really have a leg up over american podcasts, at least among american audiences, purely based on their interesting and varied accents

i can't say the gravedigger's envy doesn't make me myself feel like going to sleep in the cold dirt forever. but bad depression lately is also a factor, so

jonathan having to settle for reading already archived statements instead of harvesting fresh ones is exactly like a vampire (not the kind detailed in this series) who has to choose between hunting people to suck their blood or drinking bags of donated blood from a (near-endless) stockpile. there's an ethical choice with a clear right answer, but the urge is also understandable

jon following up gertrude's tape with just "fuck" was really good. now he's like "ok martin. let's run away together"

spent all day at work thinking about how i can't fuckin believe the first thing jon did when he heard how to escape the institute was to go tell martin like "there will be a great cost, but... we can elope now"

also if tim was still around jon would tell him the way out and he would do it right then and there, i'm 100% sure. like before jon was finished explaining tim would be like "the eyes? (grabs scissors) got it. (does the deed)"

earlier today i was just thinking that we would almost certainly hear gertrude's death on tape, especially given that we now understand tape recorders are wont to turn on autonomously whenever something important is happening. anyway then i came home and heard gertrude's death on tape

peter, as an avatar of the lonely, is easy to play like a cheap whistle because as someone who clearly hates spending time around other people, he is not keen to the symptoms of being played.

elias is like "you'll have to go into the lonely to get him" and jon's probably thinking "but then at least we'll be in the lonely... ~*~*~together~*~*~"

i think martin's whole thing for most of the series has been that he sounds a little doofy, for lack of a better word, and people constantly underestimate his intelligence. and now he has played peter lukas like a cheap whistle and forced me to realize that by taking for granted that he was being successfully manipulated by peter lukas, i too was underestimating martin... and his pure love for jon <:3c no but seriously i even remember explicitly making a mental note to remember that martin is smartin but it fell by the wayside as my emotions (of sadness that jon and martin seemed to be growing further apart) took precedent

i work a non-verbal job just doing mundane tasks and that gives me all the time in the world to think about things like "if they were to have jon and martin reunite in a tearful embrace, how would you convey the physical contact in an audio format? like, whap? soft thud?"

jon enters the lonely and voiceover peter comes in to try and factcheck the ship

i guess it makes sense that peter would try to do the ritual for the lonely all by himself

did he kill peter by asking him to death? or did peter just self-destruct rather than be forced to answer?

the way jon snapped martin out of the loneliness just by making him look at his face... that's powerful. as a lonely person, i know that the most cry-making thing you can realize when you feel alone is that another person is, in fact, there with you

martin went for a walk and now it's thunderstorming. i wonder if he came back as soon as it started raining and now he's standing nearby invisibly as jon reads the intimidating magnus statement. ...I GUESS NOT

i plan to read through the transcripts of all the episodes (as it’s faster than re-listening, though i might selectively re-listen) so that i may better understand some things and answer some questions in this post that i didn’t ultimately resolve. i can’t say i was paying 101% attention all the way through. also april is very far away

[stickthelandinggabs]

Such A Strange Numb

*Pain. I felt it instantly, but I knew it before I even hit the floor. Two inches. A lifetime of literal blood, sweat and tears was swallowed up by two inches of blue mat. I had known it too, from the moment my hands left the bar. Learning to gauge your reaction and position as you are not only upside down but also flipping through the air is an acquired skill, and one I had carefully honed over the last twenty-odd years. I wanted nothing more than to just crumble, and cry; to scream and wail but I couldn’t, not yet. Just another thirty seconds. I steadied myself, salty tears pricking at my eyes and nothing but the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears as I talked myself through the motions, my tongue clenched so tightly between my teeth I could taste blood. My own voice sounded alien to me through the haze of Steady. Steady. Arms up. Eyes open. The words ran through my mind two at a time because I couldn’t handle any more than that. Somewhere, past the haze of pain that deafened my ears, I could hear cheering, applause and Jeff’s familiar, excited voice. That was a good thing. Cause that meant I could fall. And I did, crumpling to the cushioned blue mat with a single scream. I sat, bolt upright in bed, sheets twisted around sweaty limbs and the sound of my own scream dying in my ears. Jesus fucking christ. If my subconscious was going to forever torture me, it could at least be creative while doing so. I’d had the same dream time and again, every few months for the last five years, almost always identical save for minor changes; the color of a leotard, my hair in a bun versus a pony tail; tape on my left foot instead of my right. If it was only a dream, I would have been able to handle it but it wasn’t. It was very much a memory, and not a good one. Flopping back against the soft mattress, I glanced over towards the clock, the bright red letters screaming in the relative darkness. 6:37. Too late to go back to sleep and too early to be awake, especially seeing as I didn’t have to work until nine today. So, be lazy and stay in bed or productive and get up. The struggle was real and eventually getting up won but only because my bladder was being an impertinent bitch. It was quiet and cold, the air pumped from above my head almost uncomfortable as my bare skin, still slick with sweat, prickled as I headed towards the kitchen, my vision still bleary with sleep. Whispering a quiet thank you to the genius that invented the keurig, I set the machine to brew, hopping up on the cool tiled counter with my mug in hand and glared at the machine as though the act would make it brew faster. It didn’t. Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and with a mug of turbo strength coffee in hand, I headed out the door for work, duffel bag slung over my shoulder. If someone had told me five years ago that I would be working as a personal trainer, I wouldn’t have second guessed them, that is kind of par for the course with an athletic training degree and my personal background. It was exactly as I had expected. The where, though… that was a bit of a surprise to me some days, even still. The Red Doors was never a place that I would have imagined I would end up, not for a second and yet… I did. Weather it was my degree that got me there or my past achievements, such as they were, I never questioned. When an offer like the one from Mr. Kingston came along, you didn’t say no. You just didn’t. The lifestyle was not one that I actively participated in but definitely not one that I judged, it was not my place and it would make me a fucking hypocrite besides. As much as I loved gymnastics, that constant pressure, the incessant judging, quite literally, for everything that I did, drove me absolutely insane and I swore that I would never subject anyone else to that if I could help it. I understood, on a basic level, what the allure of The Red Doors was, even if I had never experienced it first hand. Then again, I spent the better part of two decades training like a goddamn fool, breaking bones, pulling muscles and peeling sheets of skin from my hands. If it wasn’t bleeding, don’t worry about it… and sometimes if it was, don’t worry about it. Pain was a sign that you were working, moving, progressing, despite the absolute insanity of the sport. Pain was progress, it was forward momentum. I learned from a young age to embrace it, although I popped tylenol from an industrial sized bottle like candy. It was what was done. In my mind if it made you happy, that you should fucking do it, no matter what it is, no matter what anyone else may think. While I had always been logical about my career in gymnastics, my mother had not been the same. Her goal, and it was always hers, was to see me on a podium somewhere, bedecked in red, white and blue, a cadre of shiny medals hanging around my neck. Yeah, nope. I gave up on that goal by the time I was seven. It wasn’t feasible, and I was okay with that. Instead, I buckled down and busted my ass, finishing high school at fifteen and training almost exclusively for the next three years. If I could finagle a scholarship, be it full or partial, that was enough for me. It worked and somehow, by the grace of some unseen and nonexistent deity above, I pulled it off, getting a full athletic scholarship to LSU which was… not my mother’s dream. But it was mine. I had been incredibly lucky throughout my career to have never suffered a severe injury. Small ones; strains and sprains on every joint imaginable, blisters covering an entire palm and small broken bones were just a part of life, something you accepted and dealt with, maybe took a day or two to rest and then got back on the horse. Ore beam, as it were. It was the big ones, the shattered bones, and broken necks that always hung heavy over our heads. The career enders. They were inevitable to almost everyone. Gymnastics is a sport that has not only an inherent risk but an expiration date. There is always someone younger, tinier and better than you just waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t mean spirited, it was just how things worked. In a world where everyone is disposable, and the difference between winning and losing was sometimes less than a tenth of a percent, well… you learned to fight, as long and as hard as you could. Grit your teeth, slap on some ice and finish. Above all else, you had to stick that damn landing, that was what counted, it could make or break an entire career, and I had seen it do exactly that many times over. An ounce of doubt, a moment’s hesitation could end a career. That was all it took. Just a split second where you doubted yourself, a half a step too far, even less than an inch to one side or another could signal the end. In my case, I could see it coming, as soon as I released that bar, I could feel it in my gut. It was the end, but what a way to go out. The NCAA finals, last competitor of the meet on my favorite apparatus. The difference that day between first and second place was less than a tenth of a point. I had no choice but to stick the landing. And I did, perfectly, as my recurring dream never failed to remind me. But that landing also ruptured my achilles tendon, ending my career and my last meet on a less than high note. But we won and that was the last thing that went through my mind before I passed out. I could still feel an ache some days, although it was not as bad as it once had been. The scar that ran up the back of my leg was not pretty but it was a reminder of the frailty that we as human beings have and, at the same time, the resilience and strength of not only the human body but the spirit as well. I timed my short walk perfectly and drained the last sip of coffee in my mug just as a familiar set of red doors came into view, putting a smile on my face. It may not have been where I had dreamed I would end up, but I loved it and I know that was more than most could say. The familiar beep as I scanned my key card brought a certain sense of calm, of comfort and I tugged the door open, ready to begin another day. #TheRedDoors #SuchAStrangeNumb

[mrstevenbushus]

Kitchen Process: The Holy Shit Edition

Yeah. That’s all I have to say about the 22 hours of counter-installation I did this past weekend. Holy. Shit.

Looking back on it, it’s funny to think that I was under the impression I was “really close” to being doing a week ago. (Ha.) I mean, I thought I had one cut straight cut left to do, trim the sink hole, join everything together, and that would be it. I was sure I’d have it done Saturday, with Sunday left for clean up.

That face says it all.

The awesome part about Saturday was that my mom came up to the farm to help out with odds and ends (and help me move pieces of counter around as needed) and it was SIXTY DEGREES OUT. In February. In MICHIGAN. (This is literally unheard of… as in it has never been this warm on that particular day in February in all of recorded history.)

That was such a blessing because not only was it just plain awesome to be outside, it also meant I could work on the counter right out on the porch instead of hauling all of the pieces in and out of the garage.

The chickens also thought this was an awesome arrangement.

So the first challenge of the weekend was joining two sections of board together to make one fifteen foot long section. The sink hole is roughly in the middle of that section, and I debated for a long time about either putting the seam behind the sink (where it would be less noticeable) or just down somewhere near the end of the counter where it would run the full width of the counter.

I decided on putting it behind the sink… and I’m still debating on whether or not that was the right call, but it is what it is.

So, first step, glue these together…

Except I decided not to use the exact right tool for this job–a biscuit joiner–even though I’d already purchased one and was sitting in its box in the back of my car.

I don’t… I mean… guys. I’ve been doing this shit for over a decade. I know how this goes, and it is always, always harder and more frustrating if 1.) you don’t have the right tools, 2.) you don’t have good quality tools that can handle the job, and 3.) you don’t take the time to learn how to use those tools. I know this, like, intrinsically, deep down in the depths of my soul, and yet sometimes I still fall into the trap of not wanting to pay the money for the tool, or not wanting to take the time to figure out how to use it correctly, and guess what? That shit goes horribly wrong every time.

Here’s the conversation that happened between me and my mom to illustrate how this went down.

11:10 AM

Me: Mom, what time is it too early for happy hour to start on the farm again?

Mom: Well, the farm has special rules but we should probably wait until afternoon?

11:58AM – After the first failed glue-up attempt

Mom: Is it afternoon yet?

Me: Holy shit, close enough.

I did eventually manage to get the board glued up (and held in place with some clamps and pocket screws while the glue dried) and, in the meantime, my mom and I rode around on the golf cart and staked some of the cages around the fruit trees that had blown over recently….

And then I got to work cutting out the template for the sink hole.

I’d already had enough success with a cobbled-together jig for the stove hole that I wasn’t super nervous about this, I just really wanted to do it right. (I actually started a template a week ago and it broke in half while I was cutting it, so this was my second attempt.)

I know some people cut out the paper template (or glue the template directly to the board with a photomount spray) but I usually have a roll of graphite paper on hand, and I find that it’s the best way to transfer a template pattern without ruining the original. (You can get it for under $10 on Amazon… so worth it.)

With the original template transferred on to the board I then had to add 3-1/8″ to accommodate my  my router guard (which was easier on the straight lines than on the radius corners.)  I used to make sarcastic comments back in elementary school math classes about “never actually using this in real life.” Ha. I hope all my old math teachers get some satisfaction out of this…

I used a scrap piece of plywood for the template and cut the two straight “sides” with the circular saw, and using a jigsaw for the curves. My very favorite part of this process was when I was debating how to cut the straight line that would end up behind the sink… the easiest thing would have been to continue cutting with the jigsaw, but I know from years of experience that won’t give me an actual straight line, so I said out loud to myself “I really should just make a plunge cut with the circular saw to do this right…” (Even though that’s not at all what I really wanted to do because I hate making plunge cuts with the circular saw.)

And my mom standing four feet behind me– doing something else entirely– was like, “WELL JUST DO IT THEN.”

I’m still laughing just typing that. It was exactly the thing I needed to hear, so I picked up the saw and got to it…

And ended up with a really good template.

The next step, of course, was clamping this to the 15′ piece of counter and then using the router to cut it out, but there were a lot of challenges that came into play with this step as well.

The first was placement of the template. I spent a lot of time like this…

Because unlike most sinks that will be dropped in or mounted below a sink hole after it’s cut, my gazillion pound cast iron sink is already in place on a base in the cabinet. And also, nothing in my 160 year old house is square, so measuring from the only wall that was a viable measuring-point (and, of course, not square) left me with more questions than confidence in where the template should be placed.

At some point I gave up measuring, re-measuring, drinking more, and measuring again, and just said, “fuck it, I’m cutting this hole.”

Like the stove top, I did multiple passes with the router (this time, four passes) and the cut turned out beautifully.

Of course, now I had a 15′ piece of butcher block with a bigass hole in it that was tenuously held together by some un-cured wood glue and a couple of undersized screws on a 5″ section of board.

In other words, moving this without breaking it was going to be a bitch.

I braced the shit out of both the joint and the board, and then my boyfriend came over and the three of us attempted to move the piece of counter in the kitchen.

And of course the glued seam cracked right before we got it in place. I was 50% livid and 50% resigned because I knew this was going to happen the moment I put that seam on the smallest section of wood behind the sink. But the real reason I was disappointed was because my sink hole was about 1/4″ off.

The cracked seam wasn’t so much of an issue as was the fact that I was potentially going to have to lift that 15′ piece of counter up again and move it outside to trim the hole to the right size AND join this board to shorter board that makes the “L” of the counter. I was sure that picking that piece up again would cause the screws that were in it (and unable to be removed in its current position) to crack and split the wood beyond repair.

I’d just like to take this time to point out that if I’d used the biscuit joiner that I currently owned and was sitting in its box in my car and had also just glued/clamped that section in my house and let it cure 24 hours, it would have been fine. All of my frustration at that point in time was due to 1.) not using the proper tool, and 2.) rushing the project and not taking the time to do things right.

Those are rookie mistakes, and there’s no excuse for them. I know better. But, you know, I’m still human… a particularly impatient one when I don’t have a working kitchen sink (which is weird because we all know I’m not in some huge rush to do my dishes, but still) and I did a lot of mental gymnastics on Saturday to convince myself that I didn’t have any other option but to make those less-than-stellar choices.

Listen, a lot of this stemmed from the fact that I am really bad at asking for help, and this was a particularly awkward situation where I really needed someone on-hand for 8-10 hours, but actually only really needed them for maybe 15 minutes of real work at random times throughout the day. Also I’m really easily distracted so when I’m doing a lot of measuring and holding numbers in my head– or just mentally planning out the next steps of a project– I can’t entertain or chat (or sometimes even talk civilly) to other people when I’m working. So basically I needed to ask someone to spend their whole day on the farm not talking to me except for the half a dozen random times I needed help lifting or moving a piece of counter? That’s awesome.

And it’s exactly what I asked my boyfriend to do the weekend prior (and he was super gracious about it) and then asked my mom to do Saturday (and she was also awesome about it), but come Saturday evening when I had an off-center sink hole, a cracked seam, and no help lined up for Sunday? I’m not going to claim that was one of my most shining moments as a human.

But…

I obsessed about it for the rest of the night, slept on it, woke up bright and early Sunday, and had nearly convinced myself to leave the off-center sink hole as is (I even posted about it to Facebook and very much appreciated all of the comments voting yea or nay on trying to fix it) and then I did a thing I almost never do mid-project and called my dad. This is how the conversation went:

Me: I don’t know if I should try to fix it or just leave it as is…

Dad:  Fix it.

Me: …

Dad: I feel like you just want someone to give you permission not to fix it, but you need to do it.

Me: Okay, fair. But what if I fuck it up?

Dad: Honey… it’s already fucked up.

Ha. Dads. If I’d decided to call literally any other person in my life– any person– they would have told me to leave it, but I called my dad and I think it’s because subconsciously I wanted someone to call me on my shit and tell me to fix it. I mean, in the moment I was like 45 seconds away from an emotional breakdown, but after I talked to him I was like, well, yeah, that’s exactly what I needed to hear, and now how the fuck am I going to fix this by myself?

I had two choices: 1.) Use the router to make the sink hole bigger on one side, or 2.) Use the circular saw to trim a 1/4″ off the end of the counter and shift the whole thing over.

I decided the second option was going to be easier and less risky, but it was also going to create some complications for the 45-degree cuts I’d already made for the L shaped part of the counter. Also, I had to just mentally get over the fact that I didn’t want to cut in the kitchen and create a shit-ton of sawdust inside the house, because no way I was going to be able to move that 15′ counter out of the house by myself.

So I did what any reasonable person would do at a time like this, and taped my shopvac hose to my counters and basically cut the boards in place on top of my cabinets…

(I managed to get some plywood under them so I wasn’t cutting directly on top of the cabs.)

Which– holy shit– actually worked!

Then I had a little more confidence to tackle the issue with the 45’s I’d just created, and I’m telling you, I basically winged it. I was able to move the 6′ piece of counter in and out of the house, and I had to trim 3 sides of it to make it work. And, even then, the 45’s I’d cut (and recut) with the circular saw weren’t fitting tightly. But at this point I was actually super confident in my ability to cut and use the router “in place” without damaging anything, so I trimmed 1/16 of an inch off the angles to square everything up.

Earlier in the day my dad bragged about his router with the attached dust collection system and asked why mine didn’t have one (and the answer is because I stole this router from him ten years ago, obviously, so it’s way older than his) but his fancy newer model has nothing on my shopvac/painters tape dust collection system…

This is what happened…

Holy shit, you guys, do you see that fit?

There was maybe 1/16″ gap between those boards, where there’d been 1/4″ or more before. I know in my last post I said I didn’t love using the router to trim up those straight cuts, but I very much changed my mind.

Okay, so there was only really one big challenge left at this point. I needed to attach the 15′ piece of counter (with a cracked seam) to this shorter piece to make the L, and in my mind that had to be done from underneath, either with pocket screws or some temporary boards screwed in to brace the clamps with. But that would also mean somehow lifting up both sections of board and then attaching them and then putting them back in place 1.) by myself, and 2.) without breaking anything.

And then I realized I was being an idiot.

Well, not as big of an idiot as I’d been about other things in this process, but I was stuck on this idea that I had to attach the boards from underneath. Just like earlier in the day I was stuck on the idea that I had to move the counters out of the house to cut them.

Those are actually not real obstacles.

This time, I’m happy to say, I learned my lesson. I broke out my newest tool–the biscuit joiner– and made some practice cuts.

Then I made the actual cuts in my two counter pieces, glued them together, and…

I screwed two boards right into the fucking top of those things to clamp it together.

Yeah, you might be horrified by that (I kind of was) but I realized that the only thing keeping me from getting the counters finished was four tiny screw holes that could easily be filled with some wood filler. So I screwed those bitches in and then, using another tip from my dad, and just emptied some of the sawdust out of the sander I’d been using on the counters…

And mixed it in with with the wood glue that was compressed out of the seam, to make my own wood filler.

Which worked fucking beautifully. I also used it on the screw holes once I removed those blocks for clamping and on the seam behind the sink.

I also drilled the holes for the faucet…

(That’s a new 1-3/8″ forstner bit I bought specifically for this job, and it worked beautifully.)

And caulked along the sink…

And then, then, late Sunday night, after a 14 hour day working by myself on these counters, I finally put the first coat of oil on them and…

HOLY. SHIT.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Remember what it used to look like?

I’ve been continuing to oil the counters every night this week, and it’s just now starting to look like a functional kitchen again…

Still pretty far from being done, but it’s looking just a little different than it did on the day I bought this place five years ago.

I’m really happy about all the decisions I’ve made so far, from removing the pantry and wall oven, to painting everything white, extending the bar area another foot, and adding that little bookshelf. And definitely– even though they were a pain in the ass to install– those beautiful walnut counters.

It certainly wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s definitely the most difficult thing I’ve done in a while. And the challenge of it reminded me of things I might have been taking for granted, like how to do things correctly (don’t rush and always use the right tools), and what great advice both of my parents give when I’m least expecting it (and definitely don’t think I’m asking for it), and, frankly, that there’s always a way to solve the problem. Sometimes you have to be willing to modify, adjust expectations, cover your kitchen in sawdust, and drill right into the top of that beautiful fucking counter, but, by god, you can do the damn thing. 

If nothing else, this counter will always be a beautiful reminder of that.

And now, I need to go sleep for a week and let all of my muscles heal. Because, holy shit.

Article reference Kitchen Process: The Holy Shit Edition

[cessanderson]

Kitchen Process: The Holy Shit Edition http://ift.tt/2mmqhsz

Yeah. That’s all I have to say about the 22 hours of counter-installation I did this past weekend. Holy. Shit.

Looking back on it, it’s funny to think that I was under the impression I was “really close” to being doing a week ago. (Ha.) I mean, I thought I had one cut straight cut left to do, trim the sink hole, join everything together, and that would be it. I was sure I’d have it done Saturday, with Sunday left for clean up.

That face says it all.

The awesome part about Saturday was that my mom came up to the farm to help out with odds and ends (and help me move pieces of counter around as needed) and it was SIXTY DEGREES OUT. In February. In MICHIGAN. (This is literally unheard of… as in it has never been this warm on that particular day in February in all of recorded history.)

That was such a blessing because not only was it just plain awesome to be outside, it also meant I could work on the counter right out on the porch instead of hauling all of the pieces in and out of the garage.

The chickens also thought this was an awesome arrangement.

So the first challenge of the weekend was joining two sections of board together to make one fifteen foot long section. The sink hole is roughly in the middle of that section, and I debated for a long time about either putting the seam behind the sink (where it would be less noticeable) or just down somewhere near the end of the counter where it would run the full width of the counter.

I decided on putting it behind the sink… and I’m still debating on whether or not that was the right call, but it is what it is.

So, first step, glue these together…

Except I decided not to use the exact right tool for this job–a biscuit joiner–even though I’d already purchased one and was sitting in its box in the back of my car.

I don’t… I mean… guys. I’ve been doing this shit for over a decade. I know how this goes, and it is always, always harder and more frustrating if 1.) you don’t have the right tools, 2.) you don’t have good quality tools that can handle the job, and 3.) you don’t take the time to learn how to use those tools. I know this, like, intrinsically, deep down in the depths of my soul, and yet sometimes I still fall into the trap of not wanting to pay the money for the tool, or not wanting to take the time to figure out how to use it correctly, and guess what? That shit goes horribly wrong every time.

Here’s the conversation that happened between me and my mom to illustrate how this went down.

11:10 AM

Me: Mom, what time is it too early for happy hour to start on the farm again?

Mom: Well, the farm has special rules but we should probably wait until afternoon?

11:58AM – After the first failed glue-up attempt

Mom: Is it afternoon yet?

Me: Holy shit, close enough.

I did eventually manage to get the board glued up (and held in place with some clamps and pocket screws while the glue dried) and, in the meantime, my mom and I rode around on the golf cart and staked some of the cages around the fruit trees that had blown over recently….

And then I got to work cutting out the template for the sink hole.

I’d already had enough success with a cobbled-together jig for the stove hole that I wasn’t super nervous about this, I just really wanted to do it right. (I actually started a template a week ago and it broke in half while I was cutting it, so this was my second attempt.)

I know some people cut out the paper template (or glue the template directly to the board with a photomount spray) but I usually have a roll of graphite paper on hand, and I find that it’s the best way to transfer a template pattern without ruining the original. (You can get it for under $10 on Amazon… so worth it.)

With the original template transferred on to the board I then had to add 3-1/8″ to accommodate my  my router guard (which was easier on the straight lines than on the radius corners.)  I used to make sarcastic comments back in elementary school math classes about “never actually using this in real life.” Ha. I hope all my old math teachers get some satisfaction out of this…

I used a scrap piece of plywood for the template and cut the two straight “sides” with the circular saw, and using a jigsaw for the curves. My very favorite part of this process was when I was debating how to cut the straight line that would end up behind the sink… the easiest thing would have been to continue cutting with the jigsaw, but I know from years of experience that won’t give me an actual straight line, so I said out loud to myself “I really should just make a plunge cut with the circular saw to do this right…” (Even though that’s not at all what I really wanted to do because I hate making plunge cuts with the circular saw.)

And my mom standing four feet behind me– doing something else entirely– was like, “WELL JUST DO IT THEN.”

I’m still laughing just typing that. It was exactly the thing I needed to hear, so I picked up the saw and got to it…

And ended up with a really good template.

The next step, of course, was clamping this to the 15′ piece of counter and then using the router to cut it out, but there were a lot of challenges that came into play with this step as well.

The first was placement of the template. I spent a lot of time like this…

Because unlike most sinks that will be dropped in or mounted below a sink hole after it’s cut, my gazillion pound cast iron sink is already in place on a base in the cabinet. And also, nothing in my 160 year old house is square, so measuring from the only wall that was a viable measuring-point (and, of course, not square) left me with more questions than confidence in where the template should be placed.

At some point I gave up measuring, re-measuring, drinking more, and measuring again, and just said, “fuck it, I’m cutting this hole.”

Like the stove top, I did multiple passes with the router (this time, four passes) and the cut turned out beautifully.

Of course, now I had a 15′ piece of butcher block with a bigass hole in it that was tenuously held together by some un-cured wood glue and a couple of undersized screws on a 5″ section of board.

In other words, moving this without breaking it was going to be a bitch.

I braced the shit out of both the joint and the board, and then my boyfriend came over and the three of us attempted to move the piece of counter in the kitchen.

And of course the glued seam cracked right before we got it in place. I was 50% livid and 50% resigned because I knew this was going to happen the moment I put that seam on the smallest section of wood behind the sink. But the real reason I was disappointed was because my sink hole was about 1/4″ off.

The cracked seam wasn’t so much of an issue as was the fact that I was potentially going to have to lift that 15′ piece of counter up again and move it outside to trim the hole to the right size AND join this board to shorter board that makes the “L” of the counter. I was sure that picking that piece up again would cause the screws that were in it (and unable to be removed in its current position) to crack and split the wood beyond repair.

I’d just like to take this time to point out that if I’d used the biscuit joiner that I currently owned and was sitting in its box in my car and had also just glued/clamped that section in my house and let it cure 24 hours, it would have been fine. All of my frustration at that point in time was due to 1.) not using the proper tool, and 2.) rushing the project and not taking the time to do things right.

Those are rookie mistakes, and there’s no excuse for them. I know better. But, you know, I’m still human… a particularly impatient one when I don’t have a working kitchen sink (which is weird because we all know I’m not in some huge rush to do my dishes, but still) and I did a lot of mental gymnastics on Saturday to convince myself that I didn’t have any other option but to make those less-than-stellar choices.

Listen, a lot of this stemmed from the fact that I am really bad at asking for help, and this was a particularly awkward situation where I really needed someone on-hand for 8-10 hours, but actually only really needed them for maybe 15 minutes of real work at random times throughout the day. Also I’m really easily distracted so when I’m doing a lot of measuring and holding numbers in my head– or just mentally planning out the next steps of a project– I can’t entertain or chat (or sometimes even talk civilly) to other people when I’m working. So basically I needed to ask someone to spend their whole day on the farm not talking to me except for the half a dozen random times I needed help lifting or moving a piece of counter? That’s awesome.

And it’s exactly what I asked my boyfriend to do the weekend prior (and he was super gracious about it) and then asked my mom to do Saturday (and she was also awesome about it), but come Saturday evening when I had an off-center sink hole, a cracked seam, and no help lined up for Sunday? I’m not going to claim that was one of my most shining moments as a human.

But…

I obsessed about it for the rest of the night, slept on it, woke up bright and early Sunday, and had nearly convinced myself to leave the off-center sink hole as is (I even posted about it to Facebook and very much appreciated all of the comments voting yea or nay on trying to fix it) and then I did a thing I almost never do mid-project and called my dad. This is how the conversation went:

Me: I don’t know if I should try to fix it or just leave it as is…

Dad:  Fix it.

Me: …

Dad: I feel like you just want someone to give you permission not to fix it, but you need to do it.

Me: Okay, fair. But what if I fuck it up?

Dad: Honey… it’s already fucked up.

Ha. Dads. If I’d decided to call literally any other person in my life– any person– they would have told me to leave it, but I called my dad and I think it’s because subconsciously I wanted someone to call me on my shit and tell me to fix it. I mean, in the moment I was like 45 seconds away from an emotional breakdown, but after I talked to him I was like, well, yeah, that’s exactly what I needed to hear, and now how the fuck am I going to fix this by myself?

I had two choices: 1.) Use the router to make the sink hole bigger on one side, or 2.) Use the circular saw to trim a 1/4″ off the end of the counter and shift the whole thing over.

I decided the second option was going to be easier and less risky, but it was also going to create some complications for the 45-degree cuts I’d already made for the L shaped part of the counter. Also, I had to just mentally get over the fact that I didn’t want to cut in the kitchen and create a shit-ton of sawdust inside the house, because no way I was going to be able to move that 15′ counter out of the house by myself.

So I did what any reasonable person would do at a time like this, and taped my shopvac hose to my counters and basically cut the boards in place on top of my cabinets…

(I managed to get some plywood under them so I wasn’t cutting directly on top of the cabs.)

Which– holy shit– actually worked!

Then I had a little more confidence to tackle the issue with the 45’s I’d just created, and I’m telling you, I basically winged it. I was able to move the 6′ piece of counter in and out of the house, and I had to trim 3 sides of it to make it work. And, even then, the 45’s I’d cut (and recut) with the circular saw weren’t fitting tightly. But at this point I was actually super confident in my ability to cut and use the router “in place” without damaging anything, so I trimmed 1/16 of an inch off the angles to square everything up.

Earlier in the day my dad bragged about his router with the attached dust collection system and asked why mine didn’t have one (and the answer is because I stole this router from him ten years ago, obviously, so it’s way older than his) but his fancy newer model has nothing on my shopvac/painters tape dust collection system…

This is what happened…

Holy shit, you guys, do you see that fit?

There was maybe 1/16″ gap between those boards, where there’d been 1/4″ or more before. I know in my last post I said I didn’t love using the router to trim up those straight cuts, but I very much changed my mind.

Okay, so there was only really one big challenge left at this point. I needed to attach the 15′ piece of counter (with a cracked seam) to this shorter piece to make the L, and in my mind that had to be done from underneath, either with pocket screws or some temporary boards screwed in to brace the clamps with. But that would also mean somehow lifting up both sections of board and then attaching them and then putting them back in place 1.) by myself, and 2.) without breaking anything.

And then I realized I was being an idiot.

Well, not as big of an idiot as I’d been about other things in this process, but I was stuck on this idea that I had to attach the boards from underneath. Just like earlier in the day I was stuck on the idea that I had to move the counters out of the house to cut them.

Those are actually not real obstacles.

This time, I’m happy to say, I learned my lesson. I broke out my newest tool–the biscuit joiner– and made some practice cuts.

Then I made the actual cuts in my two counter pieces, glued them together, and…

I screwed two boards right into the fucking top of those things to clamp it together.

Yeah, you might be horrified by that (I kind of was) but I realized that the only thing keeping me from getting the counters finished was four tiny screw holes that could easily be filled with some wood filler. So I screwed those bitches in and then, using another tip from my dad, and just emptied some of the sawdust out of the sander I’d been using on the counters…

And mixed it in with with the wood glue that was compressed out of the seam, to make my own wood filler.

Which worked fucking beautifully. I also used it on the screw holes once I removed those blocks for clamping and on the seam behind the sink.

I also drilled the holes for the faucet…

(That’s a new 1-3/8″ forstner bit I bought specifically for this job, and it worked beautifully.)

And caulked along the sink…

And then, then, late Sunday night, after a 14 hour day working by myself on these counters, I finally put the first coat of oil on them and…

HOLY. SHIT.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Remember what it used to look like?

I’ve been continuing to oil the counters every night this week, and it’s just now starting to look like a functional kitchen again…

Still pretty far from being done, but it’s looking just a little different than it did on the day I bought this place five years ago.

I’m really happy about all the decisions I’ve made so far, from removing the pantry and wall oven, to painting everything white, extending the bar area another foot, and adding that little bookshelf. And definitely– even though they were a pain in the ass to install– those beautiful walnut counters.

It certainly wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’c definitely the most difficult thing I’ve done in a while. And the challenge of it reminded me of things I might have been taking for granted, like how to do things correctly (don’t rush and always use the right tools), and what great advice both of my parents give when I’m least expecting it (and definitely don’t think I’m asking for it), and, frankly, that there’s always a way to solve the problem. Sometimes you have to be willing to modify, adjust expectations, cover your kitchen in sawdust, and drill right into the top of that beautiful fucking counter, but, by god, you can do the damn thing. 

If nothing else, this counter will always be a beautiful reminder of that.

And now, I need to go sleep for a week and let all of my muscles heal. Because, holy shit.

Kit

[thomasrush851]

Kitchen Process: The Holy Shit Edition

Yeah. That’s all I have to say about the 22 hours of counter-installation I did this past weekend. Holy. Shit.

Looking back on it, it’s funny to think that I was under the impression I was “really close” to being doing a week ago. (Ha.) I mean, I thought I had one cut straight cut left to do, trim the sink hole, join everything together, and that would be it. I was sure I’d have it done Saturday, with Sunday left for clean up.

That face says it all.

The awesome part about Saturday was that my mom came up to the farm to help out with odds and ends (and help me move pieces of counter around as needed) and it was SIXTY DEGREES OUT. In February. In MICHIGAN. (This is literally unheard of… as in it has never been this warm on that particular day in February in all of recorded history.)

That was such a blessing because not only was it just plain awesome to be outside, it also meant I could work on the counter right out on the porch instead of hauling all of the pieces in and out of the garage.

The chickens also thought this was an awesome arrangement.

So the first challenge of the weekend was joining two sections of board together to make one fifteen foot long section. The sink hole is roughly in the middle of that section, and I debated for a long time about either putting the seam behind the sink (where it would be less noticeable) or just down somewhere near the end of the counter where it would run the full width of the counter.

I decided on putting it behind the sink… and I’m still debating on whether or not that was the right call, but it is what it is.

So, first step, glue these together…

Except I decided not to use the exact right tool for this job–a biscuit joiner–even though I’d already purchased one and was sitting in its box in the back of my car.

I don’t… I mean… guys. I’ve been doing this shit for over a decade. I know how this goes, and it is always, always harder and more frustrating if 1.) you don’t have the right tools, 2.) you don’t have good quality tools that can handle the job, and 3.) you don’t take the time to learn how to use those tools. I know this, like, intrinsically, deep down in the depths of my soul, and yet sometimes I still fall into the trap of not wanting to pay the money for the tool, or not wanting to take the time to figure out how to use it correctly, and guess what? That shit goes horribly wrong every time.

Here’s the conversation that happened between me and my mom to illustrate how this went down.

11:10 AM

Me: Mom, what time is it too early for happy hour to start on the farm again?

Mom: Well, the farm has special rules but we should probably wait until afternoon?

11:58AM – After the first failed glue-up attempt

Mom: Is it afternoon yet?

Me: Holy shit, close enough.

I did eventually manage to get the board glued up (and held in place with some clamps and pocket screws while the glue dried) and, in the meantime, my mom and I rode around on the golf cart and staked some of the cages around the fruit trees that had blown over recently….

And then I got to work cutting out the template for the sink hole.

I’d already had enough success with a cobbled-together jig for the stove hole that I wasn’t super nervous about this, I just really wanted to do it right. (I actually started a template a week ago and it broke in half while I was cutting it, so this was my second attempt.)

I know some people cut out the paper template (or glue the template directly to the board with a photomount spray) but I usually have a roll of graphite paper on hand, and I find that it’s the best way to transfer a template pattern without ruining the original. (You can get it for under $10 on Amazon… so worth it.)

With the original template transferred on to the board I then had to add 3-1/8″ to accommodate my  my router guard (which was easier on the straight lines than on the radius corners.)  I used to make sarcastic comments back in elementary school math classes about “never actually using this in real life.” Ha. I hope all my old math teachers get some satisfaction out of this…

I used a scrap piece of plywood for the template and cut the two straight “sides” with the circular saw, and using a jigsaw for the curves. My very favorite part of this process was when I was debating how to cut the straight line that would end up behind the sink… the easiest thing would have been to continue cutting with the jigsaw, but I know from years of experience that won’t give me an actual straight line, so I said out loud to myself “I really should just make a plunge cut with the circular saw to do this right…” (Even though that’s not at all what I really wanted to do because I hate making plunge cuts with the circular saw.)

And my mom standing four feet behind me– doing something else entirely– was like, “WELL JUST DO IT THEN.”

I’m still laughing just typing that. It was exactly the thing I needed to hear, so I picked up the saw and got to it…

And ended up with a really good template.

The next step, of course, was clamping this to the 15′ piece of counter and then using the router to cut it out, but there were a lot of challenges that came into play with this step as well.

The first was placement of the template. I spent a lot of time like this…

Because unlike most sinks that will be dropped in or mounted below a sink hole after it’s cut, my gazillion pound cast iron sink is already in place on a base in the cabinet. And also, nothing in my 160 year old house is square, so measuring from the only wall that was a viable measuring-point (and, of course, not square) left me with more questions than confidence in where the template should be placed.

At some point I gave up measuring, re-measuring, drinking more, and measuring again, and just said, “fuck it, I’m cutting this hole.”

Like the stove top, I did multiple passes with the router (this time, four passes) and the cut turned out beautifully.

Of course, now I had a 15′ piece of butcher block with a bigass hole in it that was tenuously held together by some un-cured wood glue and a couple of undersized screws on a 5″ section of board.

In other words, moving this without breaking it was going to be a bitch.

I braced the shit out of both the joint and the board, and then my boyfriend came over and the three of us attempted to move the piece of counter in the kitchen.

And of course the glued seam cracked right before we got it in place. I was 50% livid and 50% resigned because I knew this was going to happen the moment I put that seam on the smallest section of wood behind the sink. But the real reason I was disappointed was because my sink hole was about 1/4″ off.

The cracked seam wasn’t so much of an issue as was the fact that I was potentially going to have to lift that 15′ piece of counter up again and move it outside to trim the hole to the right size AND join this board to shorter board that makes the “L” of the counter. I was sure that picking that piece up again would cause the screws that were in it (and unable to be removed in its current position) to crack and split the wood beyond repair.

I’d just like to take this time to point out that if I’d used the biscuit joiner that I currently owned and was sitting in its box in my car and had also just glued/clamped that section in my house and let it cure 24 hours, it would have been fine. All of my frustration at that point in time was due to 1.) not using the proper tool, and 2.) rushing the project and not taking the time to do things right.

Those are rookie mistakes, and there’s no excuse for them. I know better. But, you know, I’m still human… a particularly impatient one when I don’t have a working kitchen sink (which is weird because we all know I’m not in some huge rush to do my dishes, but still) and I did a lot of mental gymnastics on Saturday to convince myself that I didn’t have any other option but to make those less-than-stellar choices.

Listen, a lot of this stemmed from the fact that I am really bad at asking for help, and this was a particularly awkward situation where I really needed someone on-hand for 8-10 hours, but actually only really needed them for maybe 15 minutes of real work at random times throughout the day. Also I’m really easily distracted so when I’m doing a lot of measuring and holding numbers in my head– or just mentally planning out the next steps of a project– I can’t entertain or chat (or sometimes even talk civilly) to other people when I’m working. So basically I needed to ask someone to spend their whole day on the farm not talking to me except for the half a dozen random times I needed help lifting or moving a piece of counter? That’s awesome.

And it’s exactly what I asked my boyfriend to do the weekend prior (and he was super gracious about it) and then asked my mom to do Saturday (and she was also awesome about it), but come Saturday evening when I had an off-center sink hole, a cracked seam, and no help lined up for Sunday? I’m not going to claim that was one of my most shining moments as a human.

But…

I obsessed about it for the rest of the night, slept on it, woke up bright and early Sunday, and had nearly convinced myself to leave the off-center sink hole as is (I even posted about it to Facebook and very much appreciated all of the comments voting yea or nay on trying to fix it) and then I did a thing I almost never do mid-project and called my dad. This is how the conversation went:

Me: I don’t know if I should try to fix it or just leave it as is…

Dad:  Fix it.

Me: …

Dad: I feel like you just want someone to give you permission not to fix it, but you need to do it.

Me: Okay, fair. But what if I fuck it up?

Dad: Honey… it’s already fucked up.

Ha. Dads. If I’d decided to call literally any other person in my life– any person– they would have told me to leave it, but I called my dad and I think it’s because subconsciously I wanted someone to call me on my shit and tell me to fix it. I mean, in the moment I was like 45 seconds away from an emotional breakdown, but after I talked to him I was like, well, yeah, that’s exactly what I needed to hear, and now how the fuck am I going to fix this by myself?

I had two choices: 1.) Use the router to make the sink hole bigger on one side, or 2.) Use the circular saw to trim a 1/4″ off the end of the counter and shift the whole thing over.

I decided the second option was going to be easier and less risky, but it was also going to create some complications for the 45-degree cuts I’d already made for the L shaped part of the counter. Also, I had to just mentally get over the fact that I didn’t want to cut in the kitchen and create a shit-ton of sawdust inside the house, because no way I was going to be able to move that 15′ counter out of the house by myself.

So I did what any reasonable person would do at a time like this, and taped my shopvac hose to my counters and basically cut the boards in place on top of my cabinets…

(I managed to get some plywood under them so I wasn’t cutting directly on top of the cabs.)

Which– holy shit– actually worked!

Then I had a little more confidence to tackle the issue with the 45’s I’d just created, and I’m telling you, I basically winged it. I was able to move the 6′ piece of counter in and out of the house, and I had to trim 3 sides of it to make it work. And, even then, the 45’s I’d cut (and recut) with the circular saw weren’t fitting tightly. But at this point I was actually super confident in my ability to cut and use the router “in place” without damaging anything, so I trimmed 1/16 of an inch off the angles to square everything up.

Earlier in the day my dad bragged about his router with the attached dust collection system and asked why mine didn’t have one (and the answer is because I stole this router from him ten years ago, obviously, so it’s way older than his) but his fancy newer model has nothing on my shopvac/painters tape dust collection system…

This is what happened…

Holy shit, you guys, do you see that fit?

There was maybe 1/16″ gap between those boards, where there’d been 1/4″ or more before. I know in my last post I said I didn’t love using the router to trim up those straight cuts, but I very much changed my mind.

Okay, so there was only really one big challenge left at this point. I needed to attach the 15′ piece of counter (with a cracked seam) to this shorter piece to make the L, and in my mind that had to be done from underneath, either with pocket screws or some temporary boards screwed in to brace the clamps with. But that would also mean somehow lifting up both sections of board and then attaching them and then putting them back in place 1.) by myself, and 2.) without breaking anything.

And then I realized I was being an idiot.

Well, not as big of an idiot as I’d been about other things in this process, but I was stuck on this idea that I had to attach the boards from underneath. Just like earlier in the day I was stuck on the idea that I had to move the counters out of the house to cut them.

Those are actually not real obstacles.

This time, I’m happy to say, I learned my lesson. I broke out my newest tool–the biscuit joiner– and made some practice cuts.

Then I made the actual cuts in my two counter pieces, glued them together, and…

I screwed two boards right into the fucking top of those things to clamp it together.

Yeah, you might be horrified by that (I kind of was) but I realized that the only thing keeping me from getting the counters finished was four tiny screw holes that could easily be filled with some wood filler. So I screwed those bitches in and then, using another tip from my dad, and just emptied some of the sawdust out of the sander I’d been using on the counters…

And mixed it in with with the wood glue that was compressed out of the seam, to make my own wood filler.

Which worked fucking beautifully. I also used it on the screw holes once I removed those blocks for clamping and on the seam behind the sink.

I also drilled the holes for the faucet…

(That’s a new 1-3/8″ forstner bit I bought specifically for this job, and it worked beautifully for this job.)

And caulked along the sink…

And then, then, late Sunday night, after a 14 hour day working by myself on these counters, I finally put the first coat of oil on them and…

<img class=" aligncenter" src="https://c1.staticf

from Bathroom & Home http://diydiva.net/2017/02/kitchen-process-the-holy-shit-edition/

from Kitchen Process: The Holy Shit Edition