In 1998, I proceeded to destroy an entirely adequate
kitchen. I also decided -- as long as we were making a mess -- to update
the lighting, paint every room in the house, and tear out two bathrooms. We
sank power saws into my bedroom to add more storage and trashed the
landscaping to add outdoor lighting, a sprinkler system, and pricey
old-growth trees.
Suddenly, it was not the hair-and-cosmetics type of
renovation I had anticipated but the total rip-it-all-out destruction known
as the "gut job." A year and more than $150,000 later, my house
was stripped down to the studs, and I was living in an apartment. Not only
was my house in shambles, but so was my budget.
I'd made every mistake in the book. I
didn't get multiple bids; in fact, I didn't get any bids. There
was no contract, there was no construction schedule, there was no
hard-and-fast budget, and my contractor was already hammering nails before
I got his final guesstimate, a useless number that allowed him to get his
foot in my door.
Since this was to have been a simple renovation, there
were no architectural plans or construction documents. We relied on napkin
drawings and figured things out as we went along -- not such a good idea.
Of course, the guesstimate didn't begin to include all the add-ons,
while-you're-at-its, and changed orders. Renovations have a way of
getting out of contro -- and it wasn't long before my bottom line was
swimming in a sea of red ink.
There were an infinite number of reasons why the
project was delayed -- from no-show workers to European plumbing fixtures
tied up in customs. Everything took longer than expected, and because my
job had a lot of moving parts, there were more potential sticking points.
Every time I left town, my overworked contractor went to work for someone
else.
I finally got the job done, and the house looked
great and was published in Southern Accents, but it cost three times my
original budget. You would think that after all of this, I wouldn't
go near another construction site, but just three years after my disastrous
renovation experience, I launched a company that builds contemporary spec
homes in Houston. For me, a job site is like a fatal attraction.
I have now built 12 homes and learned hard lessons about how to hire the right
contractor, how to bid and stay on a budget, and how to lure the
city's finest subcontractors to my projects. Renovation is much more
than the sum of its frustrating parts. It's like a marriage -- more
trouble than anyone lets on, but there are possibilities for true
happiness. In fact, I long for the day when I have my very own
sledgehammer.
