The best way to get Unsightly Satellite Dishes off your house is to throw them off with delight.
Within 48 hours I’ve suffered a near-concussion via projectile tool, minutes after I took off my hard hat and a tin sheet injury that resulted in surprising amount of blood seconds after I removed my leather work gloves.
I have given my blood sacrifice to the remodeling gods and I hope they shower down on me new storm windows, kitchen counters, and a few new faucets.
Just had the most productive 24 hours of my life. With of course with the generous help of my mother, father, brother and aunt and uncle.
- Replaced locks on the doors
- Cleaned up debris around yard (candy wrappers, beer cans, broken glass, Styrofoam cups, cement chunks, and many unsavory things I will not mention to save my mother the grief)
- Removed about 30 retaining wall blocks
- Ran downtown to claim Homstead on the property (ok I didn’t physically run)
- Opened a new bank account
- Researched, called, and made appointments with several plumbers and electricians
- Removed the For Sale sign (thanks Bro!) Because I just couldn’t wait for the selling agent to drag their asses over and do it in a week.
- Texted back-and-forth with craigslist people to buy an oven, storm windows and a sink
- And of course the Satan’s Death Trees
Spent the last several hours trimming the over-grown, thorny berry trees that I’m convinced were sent from Satan’s arboretum. Tiny little demon Arborists crawled out of Hell and planted 8 of these trees along the perimeter of the house. These things were hanging on all the wires and posed the threat of a serious fireball electric doomsday. The branches would stick to one-another up in the air even after we Sawzall’d them off, like they were covered in needle velcro. My Dad somehow did not seriously maim himself while operating the “Murder Saw” or stabbing the branches with a rake all while balancing on a ladder precariously leaned on Satan’s Berry Trees. I stood underneath and dodged the falling wood-shrapnel and dragged the branches to the part of the yard dubbed the “garbage corner” (very clever, I know).
Just a tiny glimpse into the many examples of superior home maintenance done by the previous owners.
To call this a lazy half-assed stain job is an insult to many lazy half-assed hardwood floors.
So this is DAY ONE. What do you do on the first day that you buy a house that is in major need of repair? Where do you start? There is no real logical step-by-step when there is so much to do that is crucial to the home’s livability.