GAIL WHITE Someday, we'll get on top of this home improvement thing

It all started with the question, "Do you want my old countertops?"
My answer to that question marked the beginning of a nightmare and the end of my home improvement conquests.
My friend, Liz, was replacing her evergreen Formica countertops with Corian. Looking at my outdated countertops, I readily accepted.
"This will be a cheap and easy, quick fix," I said to my husband, who found nothing wrong with our old countertops.
She arrived last Friday, donned in bib overalls and working boots, carrying her circular saw and the evergreen counters.
We were both so excited, we nearly bowled each other over. Liz loves a good home improvement project. I couldn't wait to give my kitchen a face-lift.
Before we had done a stitch of work, the project evolved into painting the entire kitchen white, including the cupboards, wallpapering, and adding window accessories. This was going to be a masterpiece!
We went to work with hammers, cracking the tile from the top of the counters. Once we could see the wooden surface below, Liz began to pry it up. Except it wasn't prying.
After about 45 minutes, she said, "I don't think we are going to be able to get these off. Let's start working on the cabinets."
It gets worse
I looked at my cracked tile counters. I looked at Liz. We both knew there was no turning back. What we didn't know was how to move forward.
We hammered. We pried. We yanked and we tugged. If it hadn't been for Liz's circular saw, we would have never gotten them off. (Yes, we sawed them off.)
Five hours later, we removed the last of my old countertops.
Energized by our victory, we set out to size and cut the new countertops.
Recounting the events later, Liz said, "If it hadn't been for those two bad cuts."
It seemed like more of a series of bad cuts to me. In any case, the countertops ended up not fitting exactly right. OK, so they didn't fit right at all. At least they were level -- as long as a board or two was stuffed underneath them.
By this time, the children were home from school and Liz had to leave. Apologizing profusely, she took her circular saw and went home.
While I was sweeping up the sawdust, I determined that it wasn't so bad. The evergreen top certainly looked better than the tile, even if they didn't fit right.
My husband had a different opinion. Conniption is the only way to describe his reaction.
"Why did you do this?" he asked, with extreme pain and agitation. "There was nothing wrong with the old counters!" Then he stopped his rampage and looked around. "Where are the cupboard doors?"
Price for this
While Liz had been sawing off the old countertops, I had kept myself busy by prying the sliding cupboard doors out of their tracks. It wasn't an easy task and, secretly, I wasn't certain I could get them back in. I, of course, did not share that concern with my husband.
Instead, I painted the doors and decided to get Pat's circular saw out and trim just a hair off of each end.
To my credit, I ruined only one.
The edge looked rather like an ocean wave, cresting four times across the top. I gained new respect for Liz's circular saw abilities. She may have made a few bad cuts, but at least they were straight.
For a split second I thought about attempting to cut another, certain that I could improve my technique. For the first time during this kitchen project, wisdom prevailed.
So far, my "cheap and easy fix" has taken more than a week and cost more than $300 in supplies and new accessories. This does not include the meals we had to order out because of a dysfunctional kitchen.
As of last night, we may be ordering out a lot.
When I put the doors back in over my misfitted counter, it seems the paint wasn't completely dry. Several of them have become stuck in their tracks. The ones that are not stuck move back and forth like a sliding board on a hot, sticky day.
While my husband was attempting to bang the doors loose last evening, he was muttering something about "drawing up papers."
"Better not lean on the counters like that," I said sheepishly. "You might knock a board loose."
gwhite@vindy.com