Skirting the subject

Rolex and a sample of our
 "new" skirting board

Every now and then an opportunity pops up that is just too good to miss.  One of those came our way the other day.  An advert on Gumtree caught my attention – “for sale, approximately 60 lineal metres of 240mm to 300mm wide Australian cedar skirting boards.  Varying lengths, denailed but requires stripping.”  A phone call revealed that they had been removed from a nursing home in Cremorne and were around 100 years old. 



The stairs and Rolex
(with his winter coat on)

The last time I saw anything vaguely resembling this was at the Grenfell tip.  There I stumbled across some french doors and 10 metres of very rough specimens in the building rubble – these are now part of our stair case.

 

By 5:00pm the next day, after a 613km round trip, 76 lineal metres of gold were stacked in our garage.  By my calculations that’s 5 metres more than I need to complete the upstairs’ bedroom.  And here I was thinking I could hang up my hot air gun for a while.

(de) Pressed Tin

Before, during and after

After restoring 10 sheets of antique pressed tin for our bathroom ceiling I feel that I'm somewhat of an authority on the subject.  At least on the topic of how to prepare and paint the stuff - but it did take some experimentation.



Plan A for ridding the decades of paint, dirt and unidentifiable gunk was a wire brush on an electric drill.  15 seconds later I'd only melted the layers into a very robust, potentially Nobel prize winning composite that adhered to the tin better than ever.  I changed tack and resorted to plan B, the 600c hot air gun.

 

This also worked to consolidate the surface into a single layer; much like a slice of cheese, but in contrast to plan A it weakened the grip between the tin and the surface.  But if I overheated it I ended up with something more like butter than cheddar, which was easier to spread but decidedly harder to remove, especially once it became cold.

Whilst effective the hot air gun was tediously slow and incredibly messy as it took a few passes to remove the melted goo completely.  Two sheets along it dawned on me that perhaps a combination of the two approaches, hot air and wire wheel, might work. 

So after some more fiddling I came up with the following modus operandi which was about 30% quicker than relying on just the hot air gun:

• Heat an area of about 30cm x 30cm until the finish just starts to bubble (cheese not butter).  This weakened the connection between the tin and the coating.
• Allow to cool for a couple of minutes.  This resulted in the surface becoming very brittle.
• Scrape the surface with the back of a chisel.  For me this removed around 90% of the paint and made far less mess than the wire brush did when it flicked chips at 257km/h all over the shop.
• Run over the remainder with the drill/wire brush combo.  The resulting surface was 99.9% clean – or better.

Including the subsequent panel beating and applications of rust converter, red oxide primer and undercoat each sheet took hours and hours to prepare.

 

Have I mentioned I’m not going to recycle a pressed tin ceiling again?

The right tin to do

We've long liked the idea of a pressed tin ceiling for our bathroom and loo.  In fact, we had planned for it from the start, or at least we thought we had.  The hiccough we hadn't anticipated was the cost of freight - which brought the cost of materials to well over $1,500 before installation and finishing.  We really couldn't bring ourselves to spend that much and there didn't seem to be any viable second hand alternatives around.

 

We'd resigned ourselves to a garden variety plaster ceiling when I mentioned it to my brother.  Stagger me if it didn't turn out that he had a house worth of pressed tin that he had picked up 30 years ago from a demolition in our home town, Grenfell.  Not only did it have provenance (last century the owner had been my pre-school teacher) the price was right.  All he wanted was a set of white rear louvers for a 1956 FC Holden sedan.  How hard could that be?

 

With hindsight, the price was very much higher (and I still haven't found those louvers) .  Each sheet had three coats of enamel paint which needed removing along with 80 years of dust on the upper side.  All rust had to be treated, edges radiused and dents panel beaten.  Then followed an undercoat of red oxide primer and 3 top coats of white gloss.  Total time per sheet - don't even ask, but suffice to say that's two weeks of my life I won't get back!

Pressed tin in the bathroom

 

Installing it brought its own challenges, particularly for two vertically challenged builders like Jeanette and I.  But I have to say the end result is just what we were after.

 

We still have the cornice to go - I'm wondering about carving an egg and dart design into Tassie Oak. But I hope I talk myself out of it!

 

 

A concrete solution

It's not pretty - but it's finished!

Nette and I have finally discovered our dizzy limit – it’s one cubic meter of concrete.  The good news though is that we finally have a solid floor in the shed. 

 

It occurred to us early in the shed construction phase that with an area of 5m x 8m to lay the two of us were going to struggle to do it in one pour. So, with our second hand electric cement mixer, a couple of shovels, over 50 bags of cement, blue metal, sand and Rolex the watchdog to supervise we split the area into four and tackled it over several weekends.  We now know that with both us working virtually non-stop for 7 to 8 hours we can mix, pour and finish one cubic meter of concrete – and dare I say it - not a centimeter more.  

 

Step 1-build shed. Step 2-lay floor?

The result isn’t beautiful, but it’s finished.  

You may well be thinking that building the shed and then laying the concrete is the wrong way about – but it does have some advantages. Firstly, the shed walls help secure the formwork. Secondly, you are working under cover when mixing the concrete.  But most importantly, even we couldn’t get the size and position of the slab wrong. 

 

Next – the bathroom ceiling

Even better still

Last October is best noted for the red letter day that marked history as pre and post-ISL (inside loo).  True, post-ISL saw a loo resplendent with walls and, most excitingly, a door and ceiling.  But it still required manual intervention of the type not usually associated with inside amenities. Namely, because there was no running water a flush could only be orchestrated by carefully upending a bucket into the bowl.  Effective, yes, but still not the full ISL experience for which we yearned.

 

But with fanfare and brightly coloured bunting I am proud to announce that ISL day has now been overtaken by an even more significant paradigm shifting, life changing occurrence – the first non bucket powered flush!

 

June 28 will now be remembered with reverence and hushed tones as FISL day (flushing inside loo).  Though perhaps I need to reconsider the acronym.

 

What has brokered this shift from 1 star to 1.5 star accommodation?  The installation of our 110,000 litre galvanised water tank and a gift from God, some 150mm of rain.  Next challenge? Well, hot water would be nice.