My dad came from a large family. When the family got together for Christmas at my grandma's house, it would be 40-50 people. Kids exchanged names for gift-giving. Teens and adults exchanged names. But Grandma's plan was to get a bunch of the same thing for everybody. One year she bought gobs of mittens and let all the kids choose a color. For several years, the adult-gift was towels. She bought lots of towels. Everybody could pick. Somehow Gary and I ended up with oddball colors that would never go with the color of our bathroom or with our other towels.
Our current towel stash still has some towels that we each bought when we went away to college. That would not be a big deal if I were in my 20s. But I am not.
Our current towel stash still has some towels that we received as wedding gifts, towels that were seldom used because they were in odd colors.
Our current towel stash has some nearly new towels (again, in colors that don't match) because of distributing the contents of deceased parents' homes.
This week I pulled towels out of the bathroom for the laundry, but washed only some before needing fresh towels for showers. Somehow, a pair of color-coordinated towels ended up in the bathroom. The towels matched each other and matched the color-scheme of the bathroom. It looked nice. It makes me want to go out and buy color-coordinated towels -- just for pretties -- just for fun.
And yet, I can't do it quite yet. I don't like the color of our bathrooms. (The previous owners choose a Packer-theme for the bathrooms.) When we paint and maybe even replace the flooring, then I will waste money on something that looks nice, just for the sake of enjoying the calm of having something coordinated and pretty. That's going to be a big step in embracing beauty and fighting over-frugality. But who knows how long until a bathroom color-remodel can be tackled?
Showing posts with label house projects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label house projects. Show all posts
Friday, January 05, 2018
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Glorious New Hope
Gary bought a new lawnmower last night. When he told me what he spent, I was aghast. But he chose it, and that's the way it is.
I used it today to finish the second half of the lawn that I began mowing yesterday. It is beautiful. It is awesome. I love this machine. A couple of times while I was out there mowing, a few tears of joy leaked down onto my cheeks. I am absolutely elated over this lawnmower. This is so worth the price-tag.
I didn't realize until this afternoon how horribly bumpy our yard is. Yes, I've known it's not smooth. But the chipmunks and the sandhill cranes have done quite a number on it this year, and it's wretched. Pushing a mower up and down the hills in our yard --especially over all the divots and hidey-holes-- takes a huge amount of effort. This new mower has rear-wheel drive that's variable based on how fast you want to walk. It is amazing. I mean, really, it is amazing.
We have been toying with the idea of moving into a condo in an old-folks' community. We have considered moving into the village (where the water is nasty and the neighbors are too close) just to have a smaller yard. We have considered hiring someone to do the mowing for us. After an hour with the new mower, all those [overwhelming and unwelcome] ideas are out the window. Even if this mower is cruddy and doesn't last, so that we would have to buy a new one every year, we are still way ahead financially over moving or hiring a lawn service. And it IS that easy -- the mower pushes itself, and all you have to do is walk along with it. No man-handling it. No trudging up hills. No fighting those blasted holes that the critters made in the yard.
If I can mow the yard in a day by myself and not be completely wasted by it (as opposed to spending ALL my energy for three days every time I mowed), I might have time to do wild and crazy things. I could work on overseeding parts of the yard. I could clean house. I could do more projects at church. I could tackle the mess in the basement. I could [gasp] read a story???!
I love this mower.
I used it today to finish the second half of the lawn that I began mowing yesterday. It is beautiful. It is awesome. I love this machine. A couple of times while I was out there mowing, a few tears of joy leaked down onto my cheeks. I am absolutely elated over this lawnmower. This is so worth the price-tag.
I didn't realize until this afternoon how horribly bumpy our yard is. Yes, I've known it's not smooth. But the chipmunks and the sandhill cranes have done quite a number on it this year, and it's wretched. Pushing a mower up and down the hills in our yard --especially over all the divots and hidey-holes-- takes a huge amount of effort. This new mower has rear-wheel drive that's variable based on how fast you want to walk. It is amazing. I mean, really, it is amazing.
We have been toying with the idea of moving into a condo in an old-folks' community. We have considered moving into the village (where the water is nasty and the neighbors are too close) just to have a smaller yard. We have considered hiring someone to do the mowing for us. After an hour with the new mower, all those [overwhelming and unwelcome] ideas are out the window. Even if this mower is cruddy and doesn't last, so that we would have to buy a new one every year, we are still way ahead financially over moving or hiring a lawn service. And it IS that easy -- the mower pushes itself, and all you have to do is walk along with it. No man-handling it. No trudging up hills. No fighting those blasted holes that the critters made in the yard.
If I can mow the yard in a day by myself and not be completely wasted by it (as opposed to spending ALL my energy for three days every time I mowed), I might have time to do wild and crazy things. I could work on overseeding parts of the yard. I could clean house. I could do more projects at church. I could tackle the mess in the basement. I could [gasp] read a story???!
I love this mower.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Seal-Coating a Big Driveway
Wear your old glasses.
Those shoes you were going to throw into the trash? Set them aside for seal-coating, and then throw them away after the job. If that's not an option, buy a cheap pair of flipflops or a pair of tennies at a garage sale.
Have a hand scrub (like Mean Green) or a scrub brush in the shower for when you finish the job.
Likewise, make sure Softscrub is on hand because your usual frugal, enviro-friendly cleaners are not going to get the shower clean when you're done.
Don't buy the 8-year blacking. Buy the 4-year. It's got some longevity but seems to dry hard in less time. With the 8-year, the coating was being ripped (still!) three weeks later whenever someone turned their tires. The container said 24-72 hours without vehicle traffic. Even with the 4-year, allow at least a week with no parking on the driveway and no changing directions (such as turn-arounds on the parking pad).
Buy extra pairs of cheap work gloves. Whatever you use for the job will go into the trash afterwards.
When you're blacking, have a bucket of warm soapy water with a couple of rags outside with you. Also have a couple of large dry rags. You shouldn't need any of this. But you know Murphy's Law. If you don't have something for insta-clean-up, you will splash something somewhere that you regret ... and that you can't fix an hour later.
So that I remember for next time:
Patch cracks and holes in June. Fix more holes than you think you need to. In particular, fix the seam between the driveway and the road. Give it a month to cure.
Edge driveway. Remember that it takes only about 5 days for the grass to grow back from where you edged before it begins sneaking back onto the driveway.
Clean and scrub driveway. Rinse well. Let dry.
Temperature requirements make this is a July or August job. Each time you apply blacking, you need two days without rain.
With a driveway the size of mine -- do NOT follow the instructions that say to do the job all at once, starting at the house and working your way down the drive to the street without stopping. The reason they advise this is because it's important that the blacking Not Begin To Dry at all before the squeegee comes back with the next stripe. That's impossible when it's August and there's a section of the asphalt that is 37' wide, especially when you have to stop to open and stir a new bucket.
Next time, the first job will be to do the edges. I will need a smaller squeegee, maybe 8" or 10". I will need a pitcher or a bowl to dip from the big bucket -- partly to control splashing, partly to get into the corner by the house, partly to reduce strain from lifting and pouring from such a large bucket. It would be wise to put paper on the nearby house walls in case of accidents. "Doing the edges" for me means a 12" stripe along all edges of the driveway as well as the corners by the stoop and the walk-through garage door. There should be a good amount of blacking allowed to spill over the edge of the driveway, so as to seal-coat the side of the asphalt. After all, the grass and weeds and crumbling attack from the edge, not from the middle. This needs two days to dry, but it doesn't prevent us from using the driveway.
The next step, if necessary, will be to put down a first coat of blacking on any especially worn areas. This will require on-street parking and another two days without rain.
Next step is to seal-coat the parking pad. That will take two days to dry, but the driveway is available for use.
The rest of the driveway can be done in two halves or all at once. If done in one swoop, have a helper sweep the driveway first, as well as being available to open and stir buckets. If doing the job alone, blacken half the driveway, leaving enough space for the cars to fit in the driveway overnight. Then do the second half after the first half has had two days to dry thoroughly. It's a good idea to use duct tape (as masking tape) to make a straight edge by the garage door and by the street.
My plans that nobody else cares about:
In 2016 I used 7 buckets. One in spots as a first coat. One from the garage to the first stripe in the parking pad. Two more buckets across the drive and parking pad. One to finish the parking pad and head down the driveway. One near the plum tree. One near the road.
Next time I expect to use a bucket to edge, although I probably won't finish the edging. Then two buckets: blacken the parking pad, finish the edging, and if there's anything left in the bucket, do the section immediately in front of the garage door. Three buckets won't be quite enough to do the rest of the driveway. So four buckets will allow for two layers of blacking in some spots.
Also remember to lock up the cats so that we don't increase the number of black paw prints on the floor of the garage and on the deck.
Those shoes you were going to throw into the trash? Set them aside for seal-coating, and then throw them away after the job. If that's not an option, buy a cheap pair of flipflops or a pair of tennies at a garage sale.
Have a hand scrub (like Mean Green) or a scrub brush in the shower for when you finish the job.
Likewise, make sure Softscrub is on hand because your usual frugal, enviro-friendly cleaners are not going to get the shower clean when you're done.
Don't buy the 8-year blacking. Buy the 4-year. It's got some longevity but seems to dry hard in less time. With the 8-year, the coating was being ripped (still!) three weeks later whenever someone turned their tires. The container said 24-72 hours without vehicle traffic. Even with the 4-year, allow at least a week with no parking on the driveway and no changing directions (such as turn-arounds on the parking pad).
Buy extra pairs of cheap work gloves. Whatever you use for the job will go into the trash afterwards.
When you're blacking, have a bucket of warm soapy water with a couple of rags outside with you. Also have a couple of large dry rags. You shouldn't need any of this. But you know Murphy's Law. If you don't have something for insta-clean-up, you will splash something somewhere that you regret ... and that you can't fix an hour later.
So that I remember for next time:
Patch cracks and holes in June. Fix more holes than you think you need to. In particular, fix the seam between the driveway and the road. Give it a month to cure.
Edge driveway. Remember that it takes only about 5 days for the grass to grow back from where you edged before it begins sneaking back onto the driveway.
Clean and scrub driveway. Rinse well. Let dry.
Temperature requirements make this is a July or August job. Each time you apply blacking, you need two days without rain.
With a driveway the size of mine -- do NOT follow the instructions that say to do the job all at once, starting at the house and working your way down the drive to the street without stopping. The reason they advise this is because it's important that the blacking Not Begin To Dry at all before the squeegee comes back with the next stripe. That's impossible when it's August and there's a section of the asphalt that is 37' wide, especially when you have to stop to open and stir a new bucket.
Next time, the first job will be to do the edges. I will need a smaller squeegee, maybe 8" or 10". I will need a pitcher or a bowl to dip from the big bucket -- partly to control splashing, partly to get into the corner by the house, partly to reduce strain from lifting and pouring from such a large bucket. It would be wise to put paper on the nearby house walls in case of accidents. "Doing the edges" for me means a 12" stripe along all edges of the driveway as well as the corners by the stoop and the walk-through garage door. There should be a good amount of blacking allowed to spill over the edge of the driveway, so as to seal-coat the side of the asphalt. After all, the grass and weeds and crumbling attack from the edge, not from the middle. This needs two days to dry, but it doesn't prevent us from using the driveway.
The next step, if necessary, will be to put down a first coat of blacking on any especially worn areas. This will require on-street parking and another two days without rain.
Next step is to seal-coat the parking pad. That will take two days to dry, but the driveway is available for use.
The rest of the driveway can be done in two halves or all at once. If done in one swoop, have a helper sweep the driveway first, as well as being available to open and stir buckets. If doing the job alone, blacken half the driveway, leaving enough space for the cars to fit in the driveway overnight. Then do the second half after the first half has had two days to dry thoroughly. It's a good idea to use duct tape (as masking tape) to make a straight edge by the garage door and by the street.
My plans that nobody else cares about:
In 2016 I used 7 buckets. One in spots as a first coat. One from the garage to the first stripe in the parking pad. Two more buckets across the drive and parking pad. One to finish the parking pad and head down the driveway. One near the plum tree. One near the road.
Next time I expect to use a bucket to edge, although I probably won't finish the edging. Then two buckets: blacken the parking pad, finish the edging, and if there's anything left in the bucket, do the section immediately in front of the garage door. Three buckets won't be quite enough to do the rest of the driveway. So four buckets will allow for two layers of blacking in some spots.
Also remember to lock up the cats so that we don't increase the number of black paw prints on the floor of the garage and on the deck.
Friday, June 24, 2016
That's Not Permanent
I thought shingles were supposed to last about 15-20 years. The guys who install metal "permanent" roofs warrant them for 50 years. That's only two or three times as long as plain old boring shingles. And you have to assume that the company will still be there in 30 or 40 years if you need something fixed.
When I was a kid, people painted their houses every 15-20 years. Yes, we had evil lead in our paint. But it lasted. I've been hearing a company advertise their "coating" for a home that looks like paint but is permanent. They promise it will last 25 years. Twenty-five years doesn't sound very permanent to me.
Why is this short period called "permanent"?
Is it because we have such a mobile society that nobody stays put for 25 years?
Is it because we like to tinker and update and go for a new look?
Is it because the quality of materials and workmanship has degraded so much that upkeep has become a constant battle, and now we think 25 years is relatively permanent?
When I was a kid, people painted their houses every 15-20 years. Yes, we had evil lead in our paint. But it lasted. I've been hearing a company advertise their "coating" for a home that looks like paint but is permanent. They promise it will last 25 years. Twenty-five years doesn't sound very permanent to me.
Why is this short period called "permanent"?
Is it because we have such a mobile society that nobody stays put for 25 years?
Is it because we like to tinker and update and go for a new look?
Is it because the quality of materials and workmanship has degraded so much that upkeep has become a constant battle, and now we think 25 years is relatively permanent?
Monday, December 22, 2014
Broken Day
Pie-filling spilled over on Saturday night. The oven was smoking.
Maggie and I have snotty, coughy colds.
First item of business Sunday morning? Stepping in a big pile of kitty-barf. Squish!
Then I caught myself right before I walked out the door to church. Dinner in the crockpot, ready to cook while we were gone. But it was turned off. Flipped the switch on -- whew!
Came home from church to find dinner cooked (whew!) but the house cold. Twelve degrees lower than the thermostat was set. Arranged for the repairman to arrive first thing Monday morning. I couldn't manage to start a fire in the fireplace, but Gary fixed it when he came home from church. I couldn't bake for heat, as the oven hadn't been fixed from the pie-spill. A friend loaned us her space heater. Blankets, fire, two space heaters, all the body heat contained to one room -- we didn't turn into popsicles.
Adjusting blankets in the evening, we managed to knock over a pint of cranberry juice. Not cranberry cocktail, all nice and watered down. 100% cranberry juice. I used a lot of Resolve, and the stain did come out. Woo hoo!
Repairman arrived this morning. Weird breakdown, but the part was available somewhere locally. He had it fixed by 9:30. We can now [again] feel a noticeable temperature-difference when entering the garage from the house. Honest and knowledgeable tradesmen are gold.
Maggie and I have snotty, coughy colds.
First item of business Sunday morning? Stepping in a big pile of kitty-barf. Squish!
Then I caught myself right before I walked out the door to church. Dinner in the crockpot, ready to cook while we were gone. But it was turned off. Flipped the switch on -- whew!
Came home from church to find dinner cooked (whew!) but the house cold. Twelve degrees lower than the thermostat was set. Arranged for the repairman to arrive first thing Monday morning. I couldn't manage to start a fire in the fireplace, but Gary fixed it when he came home from church. I couldn't bake for heat, as the oven hadn't been fixed from the pie-spill. A friend loaned us her space heater. Blankets, fire, two space heaters, all the body heat contained to one room -- we didn't turn into popsicles.
Adjusting blankets in the evening, we managed to knock over a pint of cranberry juice. Not cranberry cocktail, all nice and watered down. 100% cranberry juice. I used a lot of Resolve, and the stain did come out. Woo hoo!
Repairman arrived this morning. Weird breakdown, but the part was available somewhere locally. He had it fixed by 9:30. We can now [again] feel a noticeable temperature-difference when entering the garage from the house. Honest and knowledgeable tradesmen are gold.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Fix-It Time
The washer was having its fits. The water would drain out, but the tub wouldn't spin. Clothes were too wet. I researched likely causes for the problem, took the washer apart, and found lots of rust inside the outer-shell. After plenty of sanding and spray-painting, no more bits of loose metal could get jammed in the lid-latch-detector. And the washer works! Yee haw!
This week I finally tired of crackly phone lines and purchased a new phone. Now I can hear conservations through the phone. Nice!
Problems with a flickering light. Turned out not to be the light fixture or the wiring, as I'd thought. It was merely a faulty bulb. Replaced that, and we now have our under-cupboard, above-counter light again, after two years without. And it's over the cutting board -- important place, so you know whether you're chopping veggies or fingers.
Ugly equipment on the bathtub-plug lever, ever since we moved in. Also, the plug had a slow leak. Thursday night the metal busted altogether. I took it apart, went to the hardware store, and installed the new pieces. Woo hoo! Fixed that too.
I've been unable to play CD's or DVD's on my computer. That also meant I had no way to transfer the scanned old-timey photos onto my computer. I bought a new CD-drive and tried to install it. I couldn't; I bought one with the wrong plugs. But Nathan came over, found that we could switch around the old-fashioned plugs and the newer ones. He installed the new CD-player. Everything is hooked up and works! How's that for new-and-different?!
I'm feeling mighty self-satisfied
and pretty durn powerful because
of the repairs I accomplished!
And pretty thankful for the places
where Gary and Nathan took over
and finished what I attempted!
This week I finally tired of crackly phone lines and purchased a new phone. Now I can hear conservations through the phone. Nice!
Problems with a flickering light. Turned out not to be the light fixture or the wiring, as I'd thought. It was merely a faulty bulb. Replaced that, and we now have our under-cupboard, above-counter light again, after two years without. And it's over the cutting board -- important place, so you know whether you're chopping veggies or fingers.
Ugly equipment on the bathtub-plug lever, ever since we moved in. Also, the plug had a slow leak. Thursday night the metal busted altogether. I took it apart, went to the hardware store, and installed the new pieces. Woo hoo! Fixed that too.
I've been unable to play CD's or DVD's on my computer. That also meant I had no way to transfer the scanned old-timey photos onto my computer. I bought a new CD-drive and tried to install it. I couldn't; I bought one with the wrong plugs. But Nathan came over, found that we could switch around the old-fashioned plugs and the newer ones. He installed the new CD-player. Everything is hooked up and works! How's that for new-and-different?!
I'm feeling mighty self-satisfied
and pretty durn powerful because
of the repairs I accomplished!
And pretty thankful for the places
where Gary and Nathan took over
and finished what I attempted!
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Update
Gary worked on the garage floor, cleaning it, filling in the rotting cement so that it just begins to smooth out a bit, and painting the floor. A few more years of diligent upkeep and we might remedy the pitiful state the floor was in when we bought the house. It looks SO much better already.
Can't seem to get the house cleaned. Garden isn't put to bed either.
Maggie and I keep plugging away at some schoolwork. I haven't gotten her to a second volunteer-job yet, though, which was high on the priority-list for this school year.
I was ill last week. Now that I'm off the antibiotics, I suspect the problem may be returning. I'm trying to do everything I can to fight it. But I suspect my immune system is more compromised than I thought. It may be a long, vitamin-C-filled, achy, garlicky, lazy winter. It's so hard to know when you should plow stolidly ahead and when you should cry "uncle" and just stop and rest.
Everybody thinks I've recovered better than I have. I hate saying "no," especially when I want to assist with the projects that need to be done. I guess I'm faking Adequacy well enough that people expect me to be back to normal.
Three new babies this week for friends. And an engagement. And a friend released from the hospital. So much happy news out there!
Now that sunset is earlier, the huge glass windows at work have become mirror-like at the end of the day. I didn't realize until yesterday how much I'd been avoiding looking in mirrors. So many people have complimented my short haircut. I've been told that it's chic, trendy, cute, becoming, and a bevy of other nice adjectives. Nevertheless, I still don't like it. But that's been okay because I seldom see myself. Now at work, I can't avoid facing up to my super-short haircut.
I started watching the series "Doc Martin." LUVving it! Thanks to Lora for recommending it!
Right now I'm reading a biography of a guy who suffered a brain injury and became a synesthete. For some reason, the book is beginning to creep me out. I can't figure out why, but it really bothers me that he insists there is no such thing as a circle; he sees everything as angles, squares, triangles. He pretty much sees everything as pixelated. And I believe there are circles. It seems theological to me, and I can't pin down why. I'm glad Maggie and I are still enjoying the joy of Anne books, and that I'm still not done with the Mitford books. Katie suggested that I'm spoiled by the lovely books and don't have patience with most of what's available these days. She's right.
One of those serendipitous homeschooling things: Maggie and I have a few different things going for school right now that hit on worldviews and how macro-evolution has affected so much in academia. We keep bumping into the same thing from different perspectives. That probably adds to my impatience with waste-o-time books and movies. There's so much in the world that is good and beautiful -- let's enjoy them instead of [ahem] facing reality.
Signed,
the ostrich
Can't seem to get the house cleaned. Garden isn't put to bed either.
Maggie and I keep plugging away at some schoolwork. I haven't gotten her to a second volunteer-job yet, though, which was high on the priority-list for this school year.
I was ill last week. Now that I'm off the antibiotics, I suspect the problem may be returning. I'm trying to do everything I can to fight it. But I suspect my immune system is more compromised than I thought. It may be a long, vitamin-C-filled, achy, garlicky, lazy winter. It's so hard to know when you should plow stolidly ahead and when you should cry "uncle" and just stop and rest.
Everybody thinks I've recovered better than I have. I hate saying "no," especially when I want to assist with the projects that need to be done. I guess I'm faking Adequacy well enough that people expect me to be back to normal.
Three new babies this week for friends. And an engagement. And a friend released from the hospital. So much happy news out there!
Now that sunset is earlier, the huge glass windows at work have become mirror-like at the end of the day. I didn't realize until yesterday how much I'd been avoiding looking in mirrors. So many people have complimented my short haircut. I've been told that it's chic, trendy, cute, becoming, and a bevy of other nice adjectives. Nevertheless, I still don't like it. But that's been okay because I seldom see myself. Now at work, I can't avoid facing up to my super-short haircut.
I started watching the series "Doc Martin." LUVving it! Thanks to Lora for recommending it!
Right now I'm reading a biography of a guy who suffered a brain injury and became a synesthete. For some reason, the book is beginning to creep me out. I can't figure out why, but it really bothers me that he insists there is no such thing as a circle; he sees everything as angles, squares, triangles. He pretty much sees everything as pixelated. And I believe there are circles. It seems theological to me, and I can't pin down why. I'm glad Maggie and I are still enjoying the joy of Anne books, and that I'm still not done with the Mitford books. Katie suggested that I'm spoiled by the lovely books and don't have patience with most of what's available these days. She's right.
One of those serendipitous homeschooling things: Maggie and I have a few different things going for school right now that hit on worldviews and how macro-evolution has affected so much in academia. We keep bumping into the same thing from different perspectives. That probably adds to my impatience with waste-o-time books and movies. There's so much in the world that is good and beautiful -- let's enjoy them instead of [ahem] facing reality.
Signed,
the ostrich
Saturday, September 06, 2014
Recent Events
Desiring to be free of care&upkeep on the deck, we got a bid on a patio instead. Even with Gary doing all the work to dismantle the deck, the bid was eye-popping. So it's time to wash and seal the deck. The weather has not been cooperating: too much rain. Because we must utilize the days when there's no rain forecast, Gary finally consented to allow me to do some of the painting. He is building the deck's fence on his own, though.
Because both our workplaces were closed for Labor Day, we took the opportunity to visit our parents. Drove there one day, visited his dad, drove to my mom's, visited there, and returned the next day.
This week was also our chance to use free tickets to see a Cardinals/Brewers game. I couldn't deny my Cardinal fan the chance to attend the game. We only stayed for part of it, though. I am pokey. And Gary didn't want me getting run over as people exited at the end of the game.
Choir started again this week.
We've been trying to reestablish school routine for Maggie, including her return to Curves. (I'm not ready for that yet.)
Abundant rains have meant more lawn-mowing than usual. Gary has not allowed me to help with that yet.
This weekend we are attending an "ends-in-zero" birthday party of a dear friend. While in that part of town, we will finally (after 3 months!) get the chance to see Rachel and Matt's apartment.
Our plumbing/septic failed. Plumber was here and could not fix the problem. We can take water in, but it has to be carried out of the house. No toilets. The plumber said we wouldn't have to go to a hotel -- implying that any sane person would. I hope this can be repaired Monday ... and not Friday or the following week or whatever. When the repairs are done, that's when we get to clean up sewer-water and sanitize toys and floors and walls and bathtub and shower. Ick.
And next week I extend my "mini-days" (4-hour shifts) at work to "shortened days" (that is, 7-hour shifts).
I was supposed to talk to the library's volunteer coordinator next week about setting up some opportunities for Maggie. Lack of plumbing, though, puts volunteering-arrangements on the back burner. Top priority is being available to the repairmen.
I haven't baked bread in a couple of weeks.
I have done no house-cleaning.
The garden is sorely neglected.
So much happened this week that I'm trying hard now to do nothing.
Because both our workplaces were closed for Labor Day, we took the opportunity to visit our parents. Drove there one day, visited his dad, drove to my mom's, visited there, and returned the next day.
This week was also our chance to use free tickets to see a Cardinals/Brewers game. I couldn't deny my Cardinal fan the chance to attend the game. We only stayed for part of it, though. I am pokey. And Gary didn't want me getting run over as people exited at the end of the game.
Choir started again this week.
We've been trying to reestablish school routine for Maggie, including her return to Curves. (I'm not ready for that yet.)
Abundant rains have meant more lawn-mowing than usual. Gary has not allowed me to help with that yet.
This weekend we are attending an "ends-in-zero" birthday party of a dear friend. While in that part of town, we will finally (after 3 months!) get the chance to see Rachel and Matt's apartment.
Our plumbing/septic failed. Plumber was here and could not fix the problem. We can take water in, but it has to be carried out of the house. No toilets. The plumber said we wouldn't have to go to a hotel -- implying that any sane person would. I hope this can be repaired Monday ... and not Friday or the following week or whatever. When the repairs are done, that's when we get to clean up sewer-water and sanitize toys and floors and walls and bathtub and shower. Ick.
And next week I extend my "mini-days" (4-hour shifts) at work to "shortened days" (that is, 7-hour shifts).
I was supposed to talk to the library's volunteer coordinator next week about setting up some opportunities for Maggie. Lack of plumbing, though, puts volunteering-arrangements on the back burner. Top priority is being available to the repairmen.
I haven't baked bread in a couple of weeks.
I have done no house-cleaning.
The garden is sorely neglected.
So much happened this week that I'm trying hard now to do nothing.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Decidedly NOT Up-to-Date
Our house looks like a 50-yr-old house. This does not disturb me. It is a 50-yr-old house. I could invest time and money to make my house really spiffy. Or I could save that time, energy, and money, and continue to live in a "sufficient home" instead of a "marvelous home."
(Pssst -- sometimes it might be hard to tell the difference between lazy and content.)
Oodles of friends yesterday pointed out the momastery article Give Me Gratitude or Give Me Debt. I see why: it's perfect. Even when we hide from advertising, even when we eschew trendiness, we're still assaulted by the lusts and desires to have more. That's what salesmen are for. That's what advertising executives are for. And sometimes even our friends push us toward discontent and coveting.
The momastery author was offered pointers on how to update her kitchen. After some self-doubts, after some consideration that she maybe should indeed unshabbify her kitchen, she realized something. She has a refrigerator that works. And is full. While some parents worry about their children being malnourished.
She goes on to talk about how we don't have to hike miles to bring back a bucket of decent water. It's at our fingertips. Not only that, but we use clean drinking water to wash our dirty feet. And we have microwaves. And coffee pots. The article is a fun-to-read piece on what's important and what's not.
I have a washer and dryer. At gut-level I can't fathom how much work it would take to launder clothing without our machines. My mind theoretically understands the process: make lye from ashes, make soap from lye and fat, chop wood, haul water, make fire, boil water, wash clothes by hand, rinse clothes by hand, line dry. Oh. That's all? I wash clothes by turning a couple of knobs.
And plumbing. I love hot-water heaters and indoor plumbing!
When our house goes on the market someday, it will be outdated. The only people who'll be interested are those who want to flip it ... or those (like me) who feel comfy in an old house. But hey, no sense updating a house now for the sake of selling it decades down the road. By then, it will be outdated again.
Maybe I'm content.
More likely, I'm lazy.
But either way, I don't have to deal with kitchen and bathroom renovations.
And that's worth a big hooray!
(Pssst -- sometimes it might be hard to tell the difference between lazy and content.)
Oodles of friends yesterday pointed out the momastery article Give Me Gratitude or Give Me Debt. I see why: it's perfect. Even when we hide from advertising, even when we eschew trendiness, we're still assaulted by the lusts and desires to have more. That's what salesmen are for. That's what advertising executives are for. And sometimes even our friends push us toward discontent and coveting.
The momastery author was offered pointers on how to update her kitchen. After some self-doubts, after some consideration that she maybe should indeed unshabbify her kitchen, she realized something. She has a refrigerator that works. And is full. While some parents worry about their children being malnourished.
Inside my refrigerator is FOOD. Healthy food ... When this food runs out, I'll just jump in my car to get more. It's ludicrous, really. It's like my family hits the lottery every freaking morning.
She goes on to talk about how we don't have to hike miles to bring back a bucket of decent water. It's at our fingertips. Not only that, but we use clean drinking water to wash our dirty feet. And we have microwaves. And coffee pots. The article is a fun-to-read piece on what's important and what's not.
I have a washer and dryer. At gut-level I can't fathom how much work it would take to launder clothing without our machines. My mind theoretically understands the process: make lye from ashes, make soap from lye and fat, chop wood, haul water, make fire, boil water, wash clothes by hand, rinse clothes by hand, line dry. Oh. That's all? I wash clothes by turning a couple of knobs.
And plumbing. I love hot-water heaters and indoor plumbing!
When our house goes on the market someday, it will be outdated. The only people who'll be interested are those who want to flip it ... or those (like me) who feel comfy in an old house. But hey, no sense updating a house now for the sake of selling it decades down the road. By then, it will be outdated again.
Maybe I'm content.
More likely, I'm lazy.
But either way, I don't have to deal with kitchen and bathroom renovations.
And that's worth a big hooray!
Inside my refrigerator is FOOD. Healthy food that so many parents would give anything to be able to feed their children. Almost 16,000 mama’s babies die every day from malnutrition.
Not mine. When this food runs out, I’ll just jump in my car to get
more. It’s ludicrous, really. It’s like my family hits the lottery every
freaking morning. - See more at:
http://momastery.com/blog/2014/08/11/give-liberty-give-debt/#sthash.IPdEt6uB.dpuf
Inside my refrigerator is FOOD. Healthy food that so many parents would give anything to be able to feed their children. Almost 16,000 mama’s babies die every day from malnutrition.
Not mine. When this food runs out, I’ll just jump in my car to get
more. It’s ludicrous, really. It’s like my family hits the lottery every
freaking morning. - See more at:
http://momastery.com/blog/2014/08/11/give-liberty-give-debt/#sthash.IPdEt6uB.dpuf
Inside my refrigerator is FOOD. Healthy food that so many parents would give anything to be able to feed their children. Almost 16,000 mama’s babies die every day from malnutrition.
Not mine. When this food runs out, I’ll just jump in my car to get
more. It’s ludicrous, really. It’s like my family hits the lottery every
freaking morning. - See more at:
http://momastery.com/blog/2014/08/11/give-liberty-give-debt/#sthash.IPdEt6uB.dpuf
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Tree Trimming
I'm too old and weak for the lumberjack-drill.
A few years ago, I trimmed branches overhanging the roof and the power lines. Gary held the ladder; I climbed too high; I wielded the lonnng-handled saw. Other than some achy muscles on both our parts, there were no mishaps. And I tell ya, I am still pleased and proud of the results. Oh yes!!
But I didn't finish the job. I had no intention of coming into contact with electrical lines. I didn't even want to go too near the cable lines ... because then I would've been disconnected from the internet ... which would make me pout.
Recently, the landlord next door had trucks in the backyard. A cherry-picker! And carts to haul brush and logs! And lots of chainsaws! At the end of Day 1, Gary talked to the tree-trimmers about doing some extra work while they were out here with their equipment. They quoted us a price 1/3 what we'd been quoted a few years ago! (Hey, the benefits of grabbing Mr Muscle while his tools and machines are already in the backyard!)
This tree was my biggest worry. It grew as a weed, way out in back, bordering the unused meadow, and nobody took it down. Its branches wove back and forth between the three lines (cable, phone, and electricity). Without a cherry-picker, there was no way to cut without knocking down lines.
I can't post a picture of the improvement of the first problem. Because the tree is GONE. Yes, it's gone. It's a pile o' logs and nothing more. No more weaving and dancing and tangling in the electrical lines. Oh, happy day!
The tree below is what's left of the second problem. From this direction, it looks like the tree is still too close to the cables. Well, not really. There's a nice amount of space. But what's more important -- what's left are branches that we can trim without destroying power lines, assuming we don't delay too many years.
And this mess is the wild grape vines that have grown up on the scrub-trees. The grapes took root, grew, climbed, then crawled along the power lines to take over the pole for the power lines and begin spreading out. These are not on our property, and they've grown unmolested for many years. The neighbors did give us permission to hack back whatever we choose to cut.
Job #1: Take down all the 6' weeds/trees that are anywhere near the power lines. And keep taking them down. If we murder them when they're small, we won't face huge tree-trimming problems when we're 80.
Job #2: Cutting back the tall grasses so that we can reach the bottom of the grape vines ... without inadvertently stepping on snakes, woodchucks, or whatever else may be living back there.
Job #3: Whacking off the grape vines and taking a hefty chunk out of the branch. If the smaller viney guys are disconnected from the strong roots and branches, eventually they'll wither, dry, crumble, and then storms will blow their remains off the cables. At least, that's my hope.
Job #4: Some day in the future ... begin removing some of those bigger branches that are not a problem now. They will grow twigs which will eventually becomes branches which will cause new problems. Maybe one branch per year would be an achievable project? Starting next year?
A few years ago, I trimmed branches overhanging the roof and the power lines. Gary held the ladder; I climbed too high; I wielded the lonnng-handled saw. Other than some achy muscles on both our parts, there were no mishaps. And I tell ya, I am still pleased and proud of the results. Oh yes!!
But I didn't finish the job. I had no intention of coming into contact with electrical lines. I didn't even want to go too near the cable lines ... because then I would've been disconnected from the internet ... which would make me pout.
Recently, the landlord next door had trucks in the backyard. A cherry-picker! And carts to haul brush and logs! And lots of chainsaws! At the end of Day 1, Gary talked to the tree-trimmers about doing some extra work while they were out here with their equipment. They quoted us a price 1/3 what we'd been quoted a few years ago! (Hey, the benefits of grabbing Mr Muscle while his tools and machines are already in the backyard!)
This tree was my biggest worry. It grew as a weed, way out in back, bordering the unused meadow, and nobody took it down. Its branches wove back and forth between the three lines (cable, phone, and electricity). Without a cherry-picker, there was no way to cut without knocking down lines.
These branches looked like they might be within the realm of possibility. Maybe. If I was feeling strong. And being very very careful. Tree branches had crawled in odd weavy directions. If I'd tackled it when we first moved in, the branch may have been small enough to use my pruning saw. Maybe. But by now the branch-diameter was too overwhelming for something so high above my head. And the weight had grown enough that it was no longer merely touching the electrical lines, but was pulling down on them. Yeah, not my forte when I'm at my best and strongest. (And I'm not exactly at my best and strongest right now.)
I can't post a picture of the improvement of the first problem. Because the tree is GONE. Yes, it's gone. It's a pile o' logs and nothing more. No more weaving and dancing and tangling in the electrical lines. Oh, happy day!
The tree below is what's left of the second problem. From this direction, it looks like the tree is still too close to the cables. Well, not really. There's a nice amount of space. But what's more important -- what's left are branches that we can trim without destroying power lines, assuming we don't delay too many years.
And this mess is the wild grape vines that have grown up on the scrub-trees. The grapes took root, grew, climbed, then crawled along the power lines to take over the pole for the power lines and begin spreading out. These are not on our property, and they've grown unmolested for many years. The neighbors did give us permission to hack back whatever we choose to cut.
I can see in this picture that the tree-trimmers did pull down a lot of grape vines that were within their reach, or which were engulfing branches that were chopped away. So it's better. But there's a long way to go.
Job #1: Take down all the 6' weeds/trees that are anywhere near the power lines. And keep taking them down. If we murder them when they're small, we won't face huge tree-trimming problems when we're 80.
Job #2: Cutting back the tall grasses so that we can reach the bottom of the grape vines ... without inadvertently stepping on snakes, woodchucks, or whatever else may be living back there.
Job #3: Whacking off the grape vines and taking a hefty chunk out of the branch. If the smaller viney guys are disconnected from the strong roots and branches, eventually they'll wither, dry, crumble, and then storms will blow their remains off the cables. At least, that's my hope.
Job #4: Some day in the future ... begin removing some of those bigger branches that are not a problem now. They will grow twigs which will eventually becomes branches which will cause new problems. Maybe one branch per year would be an achievable project? Starting next year?
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Shovels
In Illinois, people "scoop snow."
When we first moved to Wisconsin, people laughed at us. "You're going to do WHAT with the snow?!" You see, people in Wisconsin shovel snow. Scooping is not an option.
(Pssst: We learned to use the word "shovel" instead of "scoop.")
I have now lived in Wisconsin for more than half my life. This became quite apparent to me as I was in Illinois shoveling (scooping?) my mom's driveway this week.
Her shovel didn't work as well as I wanted. My guts compelled me to go grab a different shovel from the garage. You know, the kind of shovel that would properly clear the drive. But Mom owns only one shovel. One. For all the different types of snow: deep, shallow, powdery, wet, blowing, packing, or icy.
It boggles the mind.
And then -- next -- it boggled my mind that I had become dependent upon having an array of snow-shoveling tools.
I think I'm a Wisconsin girl now.
When we first moved to Wisconsin, people laughed at us. "You're going to do WHAT with the snow?!" You see, people in Wisconsin shovel snow. Scooping is not an option.
(Pssst: We learned to use the word "shovel" instead of "scoop.")
I have now lived in Wisconsin for more than half my life. This became quite apparent to me as I was in Illinois shoveling (scooping?) my mom's driveway this week.
Her shovel didn't work as well as I wanted. My guts compelled me to go grab a different shovel from the garage. You know, the kind of shovel that would properly clear the drive. But Mom owns only one shovel. One. For all the different types of snow: deep, shallow, powdery, wet, blowing, packing, or icy.
It boggles the mind.
And then -- next -- it boggled my mind that I had become dependent upon having an array of snow-shoveling tools.
I think I'm a Wisconsin girl now.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Happy Things
See this guy? He's smart figurer-outer. Yup!
Gary and I undid it. We flushed the opening. (In other words, we gave ourselves an unsolicited shower as water spurted out.) We put it all back together. It only took two or three tries before we made it work without leaking.
And now we have nice drinking water from the tap again. Without repeatedly running into the grocery store to refill jugs!
Now, that's happy!
Saturday, October 12, 2013
House Painting
Oops.
Our house was orange. Yes, yes, a brownish orange, indeed. But oranger than I liked. So when it was time to paint, we were looking for darker and browner. But when the paint was mixed and the first strokes applied to the siding, it was obvious that my paint was brighter and more orange than what we had before.
But with my work schedule and the weather forecasts and how late it is in the fall, this is the color we've got for at least the next half-year. I keep telling myself that the point of paint is to protect the wood from the elements. And orange paint will do that just as well as brown.
Three afternoons. That was all it took. Of course, my body aches from the work. But the job is done. (Well, it's done until we decide to change to a better color.)
Maggie helped with toting and fetching. She helped with getting supper on the table. She even tried her hand at a bit of the painting.
Note to self for next time: A four-inch paint brush is too big. It's ridiculous that holding a paintbrush full of paint wears out my hands and wrists so fast. In that vein, I need to allow more days for the task next time. I realized this week that all the painters I know are men under 40, thin men, men with muscular physiques. Painting is more physically draining than I recognized.
Second note to self: A neighbor suggested using drop cloths on the driveway, concrete stoop, and the ledge that sits atop the brick. Boy, I'm glad he said that! I was thinking that being outside meant I didn't have a floor to protect. But as messy as I think the paint job turned out, it's still neater and spiffier than the previous two paint jobs. I could correct only a few of the errors that were tucked under the earlier paint jobs. But even that helped erase part of the old Sloppies. Gary commented that it all looked so clean and tidy when he drove in tonight. I'll count that as a Success!
 |
| Check out that color. |
Our house was orange. Yes, yes, a brownish orange, indeed. But oranger than I liked. So when it was time to paint, we were looking for darker and browner. But when the paint was mixed and the first strokes applied to the siding, it was obvious that my paint was brighter and more orange than what we had before.
But with my work schedule and the weather forecasts and how late it is in the fall, this is the color we've got for at least the next half-year. I keep telling myself that the point of paint is to protect the wood from the elements. And orange paint will do that just as well as brown.
Three afternoons. That was all it took. Of course, my body aches from the work. But the job is done. (Well, it's done until we decide to change to a better color.)
Maggie helped with toting and fetching. She helped with getting supper on the table. She even tried her hand at a bit of the painting.
Note to self for next time: A four-inch paint brush is too big. It's ridiculous that holding a paintbrush full of paint wears out my hands and wrists so fast. In that vein, I need to allow more days for the task next time. I realized this week that all the painters I know are men under 40, thin men, men with muscular physiques. Painting is more physically draining than I recognized.
Second note to self: A neighbor suggested using drop cloths on the driveway, concrete stoop, and the ledge that sits atop the brick. Boy, I'm glad he said that! I was thinking that being outside meant I didn't have a floor to protect. But as messy as I think the paint job turned out, it's still neater and spiffier than the previous two paint jobs. I could correct only a few of the errors that were tucked under the earlier paint jobs. But even that helped erase part of the old Sloppies. Gary commented that it all looked so clean and tidy when he drove in tonight. I'll count that as a Success!
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Broken
Earlier this summer, we had to change filters on the Culligan water filters. But after the maintenance, something went wrong. The line keeps clogging. We fix it. The water works for a couple of days. Then it clogs again. Right now, we're buying water in town about 5 times a week.
Earlier this summer, I fixed the dryer. Since then, the machine runs fine, but the exhaust vent keeps detaching from the exhaust hole through the window. I keep fixing it.
Last year, after I fixed the old [smaller] refrigerator, the temperature problem returned. We struggled with puddles of water in the refrigerator for months until I finally fixed it a few weeks ago. Well, at least, I think I fixed it. Problems seem to recur around here recently. I still hold out hope that the fridge is fixed-fixed.
Over the last couple of weeks, my computer has been misbehaving. So my job-of-the-week has been to carefully transfer files and back up everything, with the plan of wiping the computer clean and reinstalling everything. That scares me. But it needs to be fixed.
At my doctor's appointment this week, he diagnosed what's wrong with my wrists. It's not carpal tunnel after all. It's arthritis, especially at the base of my thumbs. That explains the brokenness in my hands. There's really no good solution for it. But at least I know what it is and what some of the options are.
All the neighbors have lawn tractors. We have two push mowers. The older one died (beyond resuscitation) today.
I'm beginning to think it's time to give up on gardening. I love the fresh produce. But the work required doesn't seem to mesh with that whole arthritis-thing. Or maybe I'm just a wuss.
If you will excuse me, I'm headed back to my Project List Of Repairs.
Earlier this summer, I fixed the dryer. Since then, the machine runs fine, but the exhaust vent keeps detaching from the exhaust hole through the window. I keep fixing it.
Last year, after I fixed the old [smaller] refrigerator, the temperature problem returned. We struggled with puddles of water in the refrigerator for months until I finally fixed it a few weeks ago. Well, at least, I think I fixed it. Problems seem to recur around here recently. I still hold out hope that the fridge is fixed-fixed.
Over the last couple of weeks, my computer has been misbehaving. So my job-of-the-week has been to carefully transfer files and back up everything, with the plan of wiping the computer clean and reinstalling everything. That scares me. But it needs to be fixed.
At my doctor's appointment this week, he diagnosed what's wrong with my wrists. It's not carpal tunnel after all. It's arthritis, especially at the base of my thumbs. That explains the brokenness in my hands. There's really no good solution for it. But at least I know what it is and what some of the options are.
All the neighbors have lawn tractors. We have two push mowers. The older one died (beyond resuscitation) today.
I'm beginning to think it's time to give up on gardening. I love the fresh produce. But the work required doesn't seem to mesh with that whole arthritis-thing. Or maybe I'm just a wuss.
If you will excuse me, I'm headed back to my Project List Of Repairs.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Caulking the Cracks
The tiny cracks in the siding should be sealed. We don't want bugs or dampness to get in.
And yet, in my recent wasp debacle, one of the prime rules I discovered is to NEVER seal a hole or crack in the house where bugs come and go. After all, you may seal them in, and then you'll have a worse mess.
But ...
But if you don't seal the crack, then the insects will keep sneaking in.
So the point is that cracks ought never to develop -- because there is no right way to deal with it? Who comes up with this advice?
And yet, in my recent wasp debacle, one of the prime rules I discovered is to NEVER seal a hole or crack in the house where bugs come and go. After all, you may seal them in, and then you'll have a worse mess.
But ...
But if you don't seal the crack, then the insects will keep sneaking in.
So the point is that cracks ought never to develop -- because there is no right way to deal with it? Who comes up with this advice?
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Decorating Opinions?
Unlike me, some of you have, well, y'know, taste. And some of you enjoy looking at decorating magazines. So I'd like to ask for input.If these are my [ahem] outdated kitchen cabinets,
and if I have no intention of updating them,
and if I'd like a lighter kitchen,
1: What's trendy is irrelevant. If I accomplish this project within five years, I'll be patting myself on the back for speediness.
2: If the cupboard doors were white or some other near-white color and the cupboards themselves remained dark, would the outline of the dark wood look super-tacky, or elegant, or some blah-in-between?
Saturday, July 06, 2013
Purge Mode
Too. Much. Stuff.
Although there are plenty of more pressing tasks on the to-do list, I am distracted by my desire to de-clutter. The yard needs to be simplified so there's less weeding and work out there. But mostly I want to thin what's in cupboards, bookshelves, closets, and storage areas. Flea market at church is in six weeks; hopefully I'll have a good pile for Maggie to hawk while I'm at work that day.
So it was timely to read an article on what clutter does to the mind. [Hat tip: Cheryl.] It helps me recognize why it's so hard to declutter; there is a neurological response in the brain which registers pain when getting rid of an object to which you are attached. The article also shows that there really is stress and problems-with-focus from having too much clutter; it's not just silly me feeling overwhelmed.
I think this also explains one of the reasons vacation can be so relaxing. If you're away from home there is usually less clutter. The place you're staying probably has less stuff in the kitchen; you have fewer clothes to choose from; while you're away, housekeeping projects are not piled up demanding your attention. For me, the escape-from-clutter is probably the most relaxing part of any vacation trip.
Conundrum of the month: it's so much work to de-clutter. And it clutters the brain to make de-cluttering decisions. Uh ... no pain, no gain???
Although there are plenty of more pressing tasks on the to-do list, I am distracted by my desire to de-clutter. The yard needs to be simplified so there's less weeding and work out there. But mostly I want to thin what's in cupboards, bookshelves, closets, and storage areas. Flea market at church is in six weeks; hopefully I'll have a good pile for Maggie to hawk while I'm at work that day.
So it was timely to read an article on what clutter does to the mind. [Hat tip: Cheryl.] It helps me recognize why it's so hard to declutter; there is a neurological response in the brain which registers pain when getting rid of an object to which you are attached. The article also shows that there really is stress and problems-with-focus from having too much clutter; it's not just silly me feeling overwhelmed.
I think this also explains one of the reasons vacation can be so relaxing. If you're away from home there is usually less clutter. The place you're staying probably has less stuff in the kitchen; you have fewer clothes to choose from; while you're away, housekeeping projects are not piled up demanding your attention. For me, the escape-from-clutter is probably the most relaxing part of any vacation trip.
Conundrum of the month: it's so much work to de-clutter. And it clutters the brain to make de-cluttering decisions. Uh ... no pain, no gain???
Friday, June 28, 2013
Interior Decorating
I admit it up-front: I don't have a sense for decorating. I would like a prettier house, but I don't want it enough to figure out what to do and then make it happen.
So on a slow day at work I was flipping through Midwest Living. I was amazed by some of the nifty, cool, stylish, up-to-date ideas for decorating. My jaw actually dropped. And I still can't figure it out.
So it's stylish to have a beat-up old table? People spend lots of money buying furniture and decorative items that are "distressed." There are methods to paint a decent piece of furniture to make it appear "distressed." Why can this look fabulous in somebody else's house? If I had something like that in my house, it would not tout STYLE. It would look unkempt.
For a delectably romantic table setting, one suggestion was to use a length of burlap as a tablecloth. Burlap. As in, the burlap that we used in the 60's to make banners for church. Or the burlap we would use for sack-races in grade school.
One magazine article will tell you how a house needs COLOR . White or eggshell walls? Out out out. And yet, another article will extol the virtues of various whites all throughout the house.
One photo display showed an old wooden ladder propped up in a dining room, the rungs serving as a way to display the woman's collection of antique dish towels. And I'm thinking, "Oh, that I had enough space in the house to even understand how it's possible to have a display like that!"
These homes are put together intentionally and carefully. People shop and shop and shop for Just The Right Item to fit the theme of the house.
Me?
I have books.
And piles of Stuff We're In The Middle Of.
And kiddos' drawings on the refrigerator.
And evidence of projects: a bag of grass seed to plant, a blender and a toaster and a mixer on the counter at all times instead of in an "appliance garage," newspaper on the table, schoolbooks on the coffee table, a sewing project scattered across the basement, etc.
Maybe we could pretend my house was decorated with a theme of Practicality and Self Reliance? Sure. That's it. Totally. It was all planned!
So on a slow day at work I was flipping through Midwest Living. I was amazed by some of the nifty, cool, stylish, up-to-date ideas for decorating. My jaw actually dropped. And I still can't figure it out.
So it's stylish to have a beat-up old table? People spend lots of money buying furniture and decorative items that are "distressed." There are methods to paint a decent piece of furniture to make it appear "distressed." Why can this look fabulous in somebody else's house? If I had something like that in my house, it would not tout STYLE. It would look unkempt.
For a delectably romantic table setting, one suggestion was to use a length of burlap as a tablecloth. Burlap. As in, the burlap that we used in the 60's to make banners for church. Or the burlap we would use for sack-races in grade school.
One magazine article will tell you how a house needs COLOR . White or eggshell walls? Out out out. And yet, another article will extol the virtues of various whites all throughout the house.
One photo display showed an old wooden ladder propped up in a dining room, the rungs serving as a way to display the woman's collection of antique dish towels. And I'm thinking, "Oh, that I had enough space in the house to even understand how it's possible to have a display like that!"
These homes are put together intentionally and carefully. People shop and shop and shop for Just The Right Item to fit the theme of the house.
Me?
I have books.
And piles of Stuff We're In The Middle Of.
And kiddos' drawings on the refrigerator.
And evidence of projects: a bag of grass seed to plant, a blender and a toaster and a mixer on the counter at all times instead of in an "appliance garage," newspaper on the table, schoolbooks on the coffee table, a sewing project scattered across the basement, etc.
Maybe we could pretend my house was decorated with a theme of Practicality and Self Reliance? Sure. That's it. Totally. It was all planned!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Hay
Two lawnmowers. Three workers. Total of nearly five man-hours. And the lawn is a little more than half done.
[sigh]
Moral of the story: No matter how busy we are, no matter how tired and/or ill we are, no matter how cold it is next November, the lawn must be mowed One Last Time in fall.
[sigh]
Moral of the story: No matter how busy we are, no matter how tired and/or ill we are, no matter how cold it is next November, the lawn must be mowed One Last Time in fall.
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
The War Against the Ice-Dams
On those days before Christmas when it was raining, how often did I thankfully say, "At least we don't have to shovel it"?
Well, maybe that didn't turn out as well as I'd thought at the time.
So it turns out that the pre-Christmas rain, snow, slush, goo, froze into several inches of packed snow and ice on the roof and in the gutters. A week later when it snowed, I could roof-rake the new snow down. But not those inches of ice. Underneath the snow-ice were, in places, several inches of solid ice, just threatening to be ice-dams with the first thaw, diverting thawed snow into the attic instead of having it drip into the gutters or off the roof.
So it had to go.
Except on days I had to be at "work" [ha ha ha ... the place where I go to rest up] I spent hours daily on the ladder, with a hoe, hacking off small slices of snowpack, trying desperately to be gentle enough to Not Touch The Shingles while being vicious enough to crack the ice that needed to come down.
I'm trying to think of a part of my body that didn't ache from the work. Not figurin' it out...
BUT you can see the results over the front door: several feet of roof that had been cleared and then sat in the sun for a couple of days. Woo hoo!!!
And yesterday, with the warm weather, no ice dams! No icicles! (Now we just hope that the clean-up efforts didn't cause a different set of roof problems.)
Well, maybe that didn't turn out as well as I'd thought at the time.
So it turns out that the pre-Christmas rain, snow, slush, goo, froze into several inches of packed snow and ice on the roof and in the gutters. A week later when it snowed, I could roof-rake the new snow down. But not those inches of ice. Underneath the snow-ice were, in places, several inches of solid ice, just threatening to be ice-dams with the first thaw, diverting thawed snow into the attic instead of having it drip into the gutters or off the roof.
So it had to go.
Except on days I had to be at "work" [ha ha ha ... the place where I go to rest up] I spent hours daily on the ladder, with a hoe, hacking off small slices of snowpack, trying desperately to be gentle enough to Not Touch The Shingles while being vicious enough to crack the ice that needed to come down.
I'm trying to think of a part of my body that didn't ache from the work. Not figurin' it out...
BUT you can see the results over the front door: several feet of roof that had been cleared and then sat in the sun for a couple of days. Woo hoo!!!
And yesterday, with the warm weather, no ice dams! No icicles! (Now we just hope that the clean-up efforts didn't cause a different set of roof problems.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
