Thursday, September 30, 2010

Painting and Fix-Up Stuff - DONE!

I wrote the final payment to my contractor today. She is fantastic and I didn't mind having her around at all, but boy, it's nice to not have the house undergoing cosmetic surgery around me every day. It's all freshly painted and repaired, the pond is gone, the area where the pond was is filled and sodded. She did an amazing repair on the ceiling - I'll have to add a pic tomorrow, so you can ooh and aah at her mad skillz with the popcorn ceiling patch. That's an art. That's like being a gifted cosmetic surgeon to the stars, but on ceilings. I had hoped for it it just be okay, and sort of blend. I'm absolutely delighted with the results, and I would challenge anybody who didn't know the damage was there to spot it. Not that I won't disclose the former leak - but damn, between the roof guy taking care of the outside, and the contractor gal doing the inside fix, it's fixed to the nth degree.

So, where do we stand? Lease - got it. Mover - got it. Next Tuesday, nice mover man will come back to get a final, hard count on things they'll be packing, and bring me boxes for the stuff I'll be packing.

Wedding plans: Bride scored footed leaded glass candy dishes that will be perfectly lovely as sparkly tea light-holding table decor. The cake - we have narrowed it down to either one private company that came with a personal recommendation from one of her friends, or the bakery in the Publix I've been shopping at for nigh onto 30 years. Publix cakes are fantastic, but the level of service apparently depends on the store.

On Tuesday we went to the store within striking distance of the venue, after calling ahead, and met with a competent but indifferent clerk, who was just there to take the order. We were not offered advice, samples, suggestions - she just held out an order form and filled it out as directed. We got a price from her for our wild-assed guess ideas, it was high, and we didn't want to commit. So we went on, to an expensive bakery in Winter Park - where a comparable cake was a hundred bucks more expensive, with a much higher delivery fee, and the service wasn't much more personal.

Discouraged, I said I would go talk to our local Publix store's bakery and find out how the process works, because the clerk we talked to didn't seem to have her heart in it, and told us Not Jack Shit about the process and policies. I went to our store, and the very nice lady who helped me was insanely helpful. I'm not a regular bakery customer and I didn't know this woman at all, but she pulled out the price list, gave me a ballpark number for the servings and basics we had in mind, showed me the delivery charge from our far more distant bakery, ($25 cheaper than the independent shop) and told me when the cake decorator would be available to meet with my daughter to put together something special - it was like one of those sweet, sappy Publix ads come to life, with the helpful, friendly clerk falling all over herself to offer assistance to the Mother of the Bride. I walked away knowing timelines for ordering, delivery cost, working hours of the decorator, the price list, the calculations for upgrades - basically, everything we needed. We know the cakes, we've been eating them for 30 years and they are wonderful.

So, it would be sweet if this ends up being the source of the cake, but I'm not about to put sentiment ahead of practicality - if the independent bakery we visit on Sunday can do what she wants and can bring it in on time and on budget, that's great. At least we have a fallback source that is ready to jump in, and for less than $500+ and a $65 delivery charge. Sheesh.

So, I have an apartment, a mover, a timeline. I have a lot of resumes to send to promising jobs. I have a lot of work ahead, but it's fun, exciting, promising work.

Sophie would like you to know that her period has given her gas.


Linda said...

It's all coming together! Good for you and good luck with the job search.

Amy in StL said...

Aw, Poor Sophie! It does that to me too sometimes; but I work with mostly men(boys) so they think it's the height of hilarity to fart.