bad kitty

Next door to me live Bob and Morris. I've mentioned them once before, commenting on their co-hunting techniques.  In 2010 I said they were eight years old, so we'll go ahead and assume they're 13 now. Teens! Perhaps I can blame teenage brain syndrome on Bob's behavior then. 

Bob,on left with white belly; Morris, on right, fully orange.

One morning several weeks ago I exited the house, into the garage, and startled Bob, who had apparently spent the night inside it. He dashed away to his own home very quickly.

He did it again a few days later. And then again. And then one Monday morning when I stepped out to go to work, I heard a meow but didn't see a kitty source. I listened carefully and then gingerly opened the workroom door.  Out came an orange blur which ran straight into my neighbor's house.

I agonized over this. The best that I can remember, no one had opened the door to the workroom since the previous Wednesday. Five days? Including a full weekend when we were home but never heard him calling?  Possible, but I hoped not.

Soon after, I spoke to my neighbor and told her about his escapade.  She looked wide eyed and said that he'd been missing for a full five days just a few weeks before. She'd finally decided he wasn't going to come home. We discussed whether he could have been ok without food or water for five days, but weren't conclusive. Our workroom isn't really a room, but more of a closet full of tools and paint cans. There is a box full of drop cloths which might be cozy, and warmth from the water heater. There is a sink, but no water source available to a kitty without opposable thumbs.

I hoped Bob had learned his lesson.

But, no!  I was trying to leave the workroom door open to air it out because in whatever length of time Bob stayed in there, he'd needed a potty at some point and I haven't located anything I can clean up. The next day when I opened the garage door, the dear little orange blur came running out of the open workroom and out of the garage.

Meanwhile, our garage door has quit opening electronically. We're hoping it will cooperate again in warmer weather (sub freezing here recently) and haven't done anything to fix it. But it's a pain to open and close it when I'm running short errands, so I've been leaving it open when I'm not home occasionally.

So, now I'm stuck. I can either leave the garage door open for simplicity, or I can air out the workroom, which stinks. (Sorry,kitty, I know you like the scent, but I think it stinks.)  And Bob keeps sneaking back whenever he's able. I was outside unloading groceries today and he tried to sneak in!

Any kitty people who have tips on how to deter Bob?

how to grow a project

This How To tutorial can be used in almost any circumstance. Simply replace your verbs and nouns with more specific words applying to your task.  However, if you follow this tutorial I am not responsible for your ensuing troubles, including but not limited to wallet shrinkage.

Stage One: Awareness

1. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Mop it up and wash yet more towels.
2. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room.  Note that it has happened before but put it to the back of your mind.
3. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Note that it has happened before and decide to pay attention to when it happens.
4. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room. Note that it is happening more regularly. Remember to mention it to your spouse.
5. Notice the water on the floor of the laundry room.  Tell your spouse that this is the night the washer has to come out to inspect the situation.

Stage Two: Investigation

1. Remove baseboards so washer can be moved. It fits tightly into the space. Very tightly.
2. On the count of three, heave the washer out of the space. 
3. Run a load of dirty towels which were used earlier in the day to mop up from the washer.
4. Use three more towels to mop up from the washer which leaks while it washes the towels from before. Wonder where you got so many old towels.
5. Note that the outside and underside of the washer are totally dry. Realize you're going to have to call a plumber.

Stage Three: Worry

1. Panic when you see mold on the wall. Investigate black colored mold and discover that Black Mold is something really, really awful. 
2. Buy gloves and face masks.
3. Decide it is ordinary mold. Notice that the plumber is just using a sponge and bleach. 
4. Decide that maybe you don't really care what kind of mold you have. Correct that to "had" and feel much better about decision.

Stage Four: Money (Technically this stage is easy)

1. Regard calendar and daily schedules and arrange for plumber (conveniently also contractor.)
2. Do it again when he says the problem is in the pipes inside the wall, not in the washer.
3. And again when he says he needs to rip out the wall and possibly part of the slab.  
4. Give him a key so he can come back three more times over the period of two weeks to check on the dampness of the wood studs in the wall and proclaim them, "still too wet" to close up the wall.

Stage Five: Adapting

1.  Remain flexible about location of washer, which has been positioned in front of dryer and in front of door for three weeks now.
2. Hit your head (again) and wonder how many more days until you can put the washer back.
3. Wrench your back (again) and wonder how many more weeks until you can put the washer back.
4. Get estimate for permanently moving both washer and dryer for future convenience. 
5. Say "thanks anyway" to plumber (conveniently also contractor) and continue current discomfort for several more weeks.

Stage Six: False Congratulations

1. Feel relief that the wood in the wall is finally dry enough for the wall to be rebuilt. Yay! The laundry room will return to its original state!
2. Realize that plumber (conveniently also contractor) is putting up drywall. And coming back the next day to remud it. And the next Monday to sand it.
3. Notice that drywall is green, mud is white. Room used to be dark blue.
4. Realize that the new section of wall needs a coat of paint.
5. But primer first.

Stage Seven: In for a Penny, In for a Pound

1.  Discover that you have no dark blue paint since the room was this color when you bought the house in 1999.
2. Think that it makes more sense to paint the room with one of the many leftover cans of paint you own. Maybe the kitchen's pale yellow.
3. Two coats of primer. On the whole room.

Stage Eight: Start the Project

1. Look at the amount of Stuff kept in that small space and watch it grow like a wet sponge as it comes out and fills the whole kitchen. Try to squeeze a step stool into the space vacated by all the stuff and see that it barely fits.
2. Remove the switch plate covers with a screwdriver.
3. Remove the shelving with a different one. And a hammer.
4. Dust the dang walls so the spiderwebs and dryer lint don't get painted.
5. Start priming the trim/edges, moving the step stool in and out multiple times and tripping over the washer hoses each time.
6. Hit your head, elbow, hip and knee in a continuing sequence.

Stage Nine: It Will Never End

1. As you wash primer from your brush, roller and hands, realize how many more times you'll need to do this since you can't even start half the room until the washer and dryer move to their original locations.Wonder if it will ever get done.
2. Notice the build up of laundry around the house. Wonder if it will ever get done.

the year of the lentil

Costco does something to me.  I have gone in there and bought one item. Really, I have. But if you get a cart, there is no way that you're getting out of there with just what's on your list. Assuming you have at least some common sense and go with a list. If you don't, I have no advice for you. I am a list person.

To begin, let's just acknowledge that nothing at Costco costs less than $20. There is much at Costco that costs more.  And our state allows Costco to sell wine, which I must say, they sell at a great price. I'll buy most brands of wine that cost less than $10 (which is less than $20, I know, but isn't the same so I'm not counting it.) So there are big items and there are glass bottles, but nothing is exactly cheap. A good bargain, yes, but cheap? No.

I try not to go there hungry. My kids very much want to accompany me when I go near lunch because they want to enjoy what we refer to as "Costco dim sum." I will taste some things and I will sometimes buy those items, but I think I only buy them if I wanted them anyway. Usually.  I realized last time I went to Costco that there's a "What the Hell" point after you've spent a certain amount.When my huge-assed cart gets full I know I'm passing the $200 mark and at that point what difference is a bag of dried mangoes? It can progress quickly after that. And that is why I have a three pound bag of lentils while having only one recipe which calls for lentils.

Please send lentil recipes.

My new little car can easily hold $300 worth of Costco goods even with my yoga mat in the back. It looks like it could hold much more but I am uninterested in testing it. 

 

This all reminds me of a story I meant to write here but never found the right time.  This summer, when the kids were home from school and around to beg me to wait on my Costco trip until closer to lunch so they could do their dim sum thing, Bug saw a stuffed bear. It was not just a stuffed bear though. It was a five foot tall stuffed bear. He drooled. I stood firm (yay for standing firm at Costco!) and told him he had to think for 24 hours before spending his own money on a five foot tall stuffed bear.  He waited. He dreamed of nothing that night but what to name his new bear. I should have told him to wait 48 hours. The boy is nothing if not determined.  But the next day I drove back over there with Bug and his wallet, and he dropped $30 on this:

where we are

 I found $68 today in the pocket of some pants I haven't worn in a while. Oddly, it included a $50 bill and I can't figure out why I had a large bill. Or when.  Not that I can't spend a $50 bill, but nevertheless I am curious.


*****     *****

We just went a full week of school and work and all the accompanying errands without using any gasoline. CD has taken to biking Bug to school and then continuing on to his office. Pook either takes the bus or I drive him with the electric Leaf. I drive myself around to work and errands in the Leaf. Great feeling!

Update on the Nissan Leaf: Electricity consumption has gone up more than expected but not really very much. I think our bills are about $20 more each month.

*****     *****

Pook decided that carrying a purse is really practical. This hasn't swayed him to actually carry one, but he did make a list of what he would put in it if he did:

• Swiss Army knife
• iPod
• matches
• penlight
• pen and pencil
• small notepad
• playing cards
• fishing line (hmm?)
• handkerchief (?!)
• wallet
• charger
• earbuds

I don't understand what the matches or fishing line are for, and he's never used a handkerchief, but whatever. I think with the pocket knife, iPod with charger and wallet he's covered for any emergency. He isn't a boy scout, but I think they'd accept him.

*****     *****

Update on the fishtank: Years of fishes have proven to me that I should just keep my mouth shut. Soon after showing off Freddy to the world, my fishtank acquired a nasty disease and every single fish died. I felt particularly badly about losing Freddy and his/her parents. Only a few fish have ever been named.

*****     *****

Pook will be passing me up in height this year, at age 13. He's about an inch shorter still, but can make himself a three egg omelet for a snack. For a while we thought Bug might catch up with him, but he's suddenly looking much older.  He likes to point it out to me when his voice cracks. He also thinks he's growing a mustache but I haven't pulled out a magnifying glass to confirm this.  The child is way too fair for any facial hair to show anyway, so I think I'll be spared the shaving for a while yet.

*****     *****

We've opened windows, at least at night. I love to hear the night noises as I go to sleep. If we turn on fans in the early evening and early morning, I think we can be done with air conditioning. Ahh, fall. It still looks like summer here, and days are still warm, but hopefully the night temperatures will encourage plants to start fall shows.

something fishy

Seriously fishy stuff has happened here and, Sherlock that I am, I think I've got proof of my theory.

You see, this past spring, when I was feeding the fish one morning, I noticed something someone new. There was a tiny, maybe one-centimeter-long fish in the tank. I am quite sure this fish hadn't been bought. This was a baby.  But not that tiny in fish terms, and not that new, and well, only one.

My knowledge of fish isn't extensive but I've had some experience with fish born in a small tank. A swordfish had babies once, and as she swam around with loads of teeny tiny (2mm) babies popping out of her hindside, other fish followed her around and had a fish breakfast.  I thought the fish in my tank were all tetras now, and I thought tetras laid eggs and were not live bearers. Google confirmed this.

I had previously been a bit concerned that this fish:

was picking on this fish:

by chasing it/him/her around.  (Or maybe the opposite, I couldn't remember who'd done the pursuing.) The striped one is probably a tetra, but I wasn't sure.  In any case, I suspected now that the attention was perhaps not unwanted.  (see above reference to Sherlock)

The result of this fish on fish attention had to have been this fish:

Bug named it/her/him Freddie. I told him it would probably be eaten by the end of the day, optimist that I am.  But yet Freddie thrived and has more than doubled in size since then. (Photographed now, at about 2.5cm in length)

The mystery of it all, other than the larger mystery of life, is just exactly how did Freddie live so long unnoticed without becoming a meal to one of the other fish? I'm not the most reliable at cleaning the fishtank, so I'm surprised it was healthy enough to hatch eggs or keep a baby alive. Really, even one baby tetra in captivity is pretty rare. Coming from an egg, they've got to be really small when they hatch.

Then, today I was doing that responsible thing, cleaning the nasty algae covered fishtank, and I noticed something interesting. (Again, see above reference to Sherlock)  this:

The little dots on the glass (I see at least six, maybe seven here) must be eggs!  Freddie's brothers and sisters!  Lots of brothers and sisters!

So, I'm going to keep an eye on these fishy happenings, and see if anything develops. Google tells me they hatch within as little as 48 hours!  I will be back with any news next week.

***********************
Well, no news. Maybe they are eggs, but caviar and not embryos. If tetra breeding conditions have to be as strict as what they say, Freddie was a miracle.

letter to camp

Dear Pook,

Just wanted to make sure you were ok with us renting out your bedroom. You know, since you're not using it. It was a little crowded in the room for our renter, so we've put all your former books and toys into your brother's bedroom. He's enjoying them. It'll just be until we turn it back into a guest room like it used to be, after our trip to Florida for Harry Potter World.

I keep looking at the clock and wondering "I wonder what Pook is doing right now." And then I think of telling you what we're doing at that moment, but I've resisted (mostly, except that one other email) because I don't want to make you too jealous.  Our renter would be upset if you came home early.  Plus, I know you'd be disappointed to know that we've eaten the first of the cherry tomatoes, with basil on pasta. The day at Six Flags won't be anything exciting compared to KP duty in the dining hall.  And none of the parties planned here will be a big deal to miss in comparison to your daily opportunity to share a tiny cabin with seven other stinky boys.  So I told Bug not to mention that stuff.

Your brother would send you a note here too, but he's out at the moment seeing the new Captain America movie with your friends. I thought they'd notice you were missing but it turns out that as long as someone "likes" their pictures on Instagram, it doesn't really matter who it is.

It has been hard to squeeze all this in because of Bug's tennis camp, but having given up bedtime rules we find that we can do much more.  Plus, our mealtimes last much less time when we don't have to wait for you to finish. Such a relief.

Anyway, I just wanted send my love.  Hope you're having a good time!

yours truly,
Mama

p.s. The renter says thanks.

the future is here

This

is for sale.

This

is in my garage. Plugged into the wall. Charging.

The car, as a lease, is a bargain. Here's my math:
    $2000 down
+  $5520 payments ($240/mo for 23 months)
+  $2400 estimated annual addition to power bill across two years
+ $350 fee when you turn the car in, in two years
-   $2800 gas for two years (I'm guessing, and that's probably low)
-   $5000 Georgia tax credit (There is a $7500 rebate from the Feds which brings the cost down also, but it is worked into the original lease price by the dealer.)

-----------
    $2470 for two years. And, no maintenance costs either.

I'll update in a few months with any corrections in those numbers.  Meanwhile, I'll be the one silently zipping around town!

got pants?

"Hey, guys, your piano recital and band concerts are coming up. Do you have dress clothes and shoes that fit?"

"Uh, mumble, mumble, uh huh"

"Can you pull them out for me to see?"

(multiple sighs)

Bug has his bedroom organized these days into the following piles (to the best I can discern): dirty clothes in hamper, dirty clothes under the bed, baseball clothes in milk crate and the floor around the milk crate, cardboard box of shorts and swim suits which I pulled out but which are getting worn without ever being put in a dresser, clean laundry still in a laundry basket, dress pants on a shelf in the closet, a scattering shoes on the closet floor (mixed with toys and clothes which have fallen off hangers.)

He pulls out the dress pants and says "Here, see" in that 'duh, mom' sort of way. I clearly decided to torture him because I then said, "Try them on."  (ack, horrors!)

Pook's floor looks better, there is only a hamper of dirty clothes and a cardboard box of shorts and swim stuff but if you look in his closet you will see scores of shoes from years gone by, clothes I hardly recognize because they have collars and therefore are never worn, and well, you really can't get in the closet to see what else is there. That might be for the best.

"Try 'em on guys."

(multiple sighs, groans and "aw, mom"s)

Bug: "I just wore them. They fit fine."

"Prove it."

"See?"

"Why don't you button them?"

"Uh, maybe they're too small."

"What size are they?"

"8"

The next pair was the same. The third pair fit. Size 12. They get pulled off and left, inside out on the floor. I'm picking my battles, so I fold them and set them aside on top of the khakis he's planning to wear to the first concert.

"How's it going, Pook?"

He hasn't started trying on clothes but is instead standing in his underwear playing with the Electronic Pocket Distraction (EPD) he removed from his pocket when he took off his pants.

We find him pants which fit, but he can't locate the dress shirt he says he owns. Turns out, it is two sizes too small and I'd put it in Bug's closet. Nevermind, he needs a tux shirt one night and anything with a collar the other.

Now to Pook's shoes. He pulls out five pairs of black dress shoes, two pairs of holey running shoes and two pairs of sandals from his closet. I immediately throw some in the trash can. He begins to try on dress shoes. Bug grabs a pair and puts them on.

"They're fine."

I suggest socks be added to the try-on process. They begin an argument over who owns which black socks.

Pook is still working on shoes. Bug is now at the top of the stairs looking classy, wearing shorts and t-shirt, black dress socks, and shoes which maybe would fit Pook better but Bug got to them first. Their feet may be the same size.

"Hey everyone!"  My mom is standing at the bottom of the stairs. (Holding a cookie jar!)  "The garage door was up and the door was unlocked and no one heard me, so I just came in."

I'm trying to avoid losing control now. "No cookies until you're wearing clothes!"  She eases herself away and I get them back to the business of trying on shoes. Finally, success. I put aside the remainder and offer them online to Friends With Boys.

If I had a chance to do it again, I'd join with a few families of boys and suggest we buy one pair of black dress shoes in every size. We could swap them around for 18 years.

**************

It is ten minutes until we should leave for the recital.

"Mom!  My pants don't fit! I can't button them!"

Sure enough, the khaki pair Bug wanted to wear today (did I ever see him trying them on?) is too tight. Size 12. Super mom that I am, I locate a pair of 14s.  I'd cut off his head but it wouldn't make the pants fit any better.

**************
5 minutes later:

We will never get out the door.  Bug came down in khakis (which fit, with a belt) but black socks.

"But I don't have any khaki socks!" (Clearly I am guilty.)

I find the child some khaki socks.
**************
 in the car, running about five minutes late:

"I guess these shoes are a little too small."

***************
between the car and recital hall:

"My shirt is missing a button."

hopes dashed (and wet holiday stuff too)

And just like that, Bug ruined his future.  And possibly mine, because I'm kinda hoping at least one of these kids of ours will support us in our old age.


The conversation:

Bug: How long do I put the pizza in the microwave?

Me: You don't put pizza in the microwave. The crust gets all tough.

Bug: But I don't like it cold.

Me: You can't go to college if you don't like cold pizza.

Bug: Then I won't go to college.



*****

You'd think they'd sell fewer Christmas trees in the rain. But eventually you just have to give up and go get it because I'm not sure they deliver them. (Although, come to think of it, actually, they do. My cousin ordered one from somewhere like Maine and they delivered it to her in Florida.) I know we shouldn't complain about our rain, because we don't have ice or snow, but we've had both warm and rainy and cold and rainy and, really, neither is good for the Christmas Spirit.

Our tree is sitting in the garage, dripping dry a bit. We considered a hair dryer (probably not a great plan) and we considered the leaf blower (possible, but it seemed like work) and we went with drip drying. Maybe we can bring it in soon. We hope there will be time tonight to decorate it.  The remodeling of our house changed our Christmas tree location this year. I hope it works without being in everyone's way.

Last weekend we had a respite from the dampness and we did some yard cleanup. The leaves can still be mowed into mulch, even when wet. I put pine straw all around my new Swiss Chard plants, pansies and parsley. It looks pretty good.

We ate one meal of chard already. A bug crawled (spun?) to the top of the salad spinner, so I let the dizzy thing out. Then Pook peeked in the pan to see what was cooking and announced that there was another desperate bug. We let that one out too. So, no bugs were killed in the making of our meal. (Although later Pook did discretely mention a crunch he'd encountered. He didn't want Bug to know. Good kid. When I was their age I turned down a lot of garden grown meals because of the "extra protein" crawling around in it.)  

While we were doing yard work last weekend, the boys decided we should decorate an outdoor evergreen of the Christmasish shape. Pook hauled two long extension cords around to get power to the area. They checked all the bulbs for the non-working ones. Then they got a ladder. At that point CD and I abandoned our attempts at working to participate (and keep them from killing themselves). It isn't easy to lean a ladder on a slope in the mud up to an angled tree side. Eventually CD strung the lights and the boys lobbed dollar-store ornaments at it. It looked great. For one day.

The next day only the bottom strand of lights would light. Mind you, they're all attached and plugged in as one.  We still have no idea why it isn't working-- because it has rained every day since, and neither adult in this house is really eager to explore this electrical problem in the rain. So, the lights are off. Hopefully it will stop raining before Christmas.

The chances of me blogging again before the holidays is not great, so let me wish everyone a wonderful Celebration that you Celebrate, if you haven't already celebrated it. And a Happy New Year.

a little of this, a little of that

I feel like I need to catch up here.

• The kids are outgrowing clothes. Pook hasn't put away the shorts but has worn long pants all this week. If he hadn't, I think the school might have turned me in. We had lows in the 20's. I went to a nearby thrift shop and bought him six pairs of pants for about $20. Glad the kid doesn't care about brands. Or, for that matter, doesn't care what he wears.
• The garden has frozen. The leaves still look wonderful however. I'm looking around for things that need help next spring. I must get better at cutting back fall bloomers so they don't get too leggy.
• I cooked teriyaki chicken with fresh baby carrots the other day and it turned out great. Last night we had some fresh spinach and everyone moaned with joy. (It had butter and Parmesan cheese on it.) We had about twelve leaves of swiss chard from our own yard. While I feel grateful that I have a family who likes food and all my cooking, Pook did surprise me by saying that "what really matters to me is just that it has calories." See #1, above.
• I sort of stole a four foot basil plant from Bug's old school. The cold was already predicted and the plant looked so neglected that I couldn't help myself. I made enough pesto to fill two ice cube trays. I didn't have many pine nuts so I tried pumpkin seeds and it turned out great. Much cheaper. Stolen basil is already pretty cheap however.
• The Halloween candy is gone; banana Laffy Taffy was the final sweet in the bowl. Bug doesn't like them, but ate one because "well, it was candy." I, on the other hand, am a candy snob.
• The Paid Job is good. I don't have a well defined job description, no idea what sort of title best describes me, and I forget to pick up my little paychecks since I don't always work the day they get distributed. I come home exhausted, but I really like what I'm doing. I have a nice blend of shadowing a couple of kids who need support and doing observations in other classes when teachers request it. I think I'm useful.
• Someone told me that the holidays "were upon us." I went into Starbucks and then Kroger one evening last week and discovered that Christmas had thrown up all over them both. Poor Thanksgiving.

after-ish

No, I don't think the kitchen will ever be done. There are still a few shelves missing and details to get corrected. But, it looks done.  And so, I have taken AFTER photos.

To review, this is the old kitchen:

The refrigerator stuck out in an ugly and annoying way, and, with the counter sticking out also, it caused a traffic jam any time two people wanted to be in the space.

The oven was tiny and temperamental, the cabinets were worn out, the tile countertop was annoying.

We already had a deep garden window which we liked, and hardwood floors which we liked. The refrigerator, dishwasher and microwave were all reasonably new.

So, now the great reveal:

 The design is very simple now. There are five feet between sides, so I'm not sure if "galley kitchen" applies or not. Regardless, it has streamlined everything.

The counters are manufactured quartz and the back walls have subway tiles. The last cupboard before the doorway to the den/piano room has no glass. We've put cookbooks here and filled the drawers with office supplies.

We liked having dishes visible, but instead of leaving doors off, we put glass doors on most of the upper cabinets. Bug and I chose a wavy glass to obscure fingerprints. 

Since the cupboards come closer to the breakfast nook now, we couldn't fit our rectangular table. We looked around an antique row near us and came home with a new round table. I hope I don't regret getting the glass tabletop. We have a lot of glass to keep clean suddenly. We thought we'd replace the chairs too, but now I'm not sure we need to. They'd need a fresh coat of paint if we keep them however.

So, done-ish. Our contractor has one payment still to receive, so I'm optimistic that things will tie up eventually. I suspect this is typical of renovations. But meanwhile it is functional and beautiful!

mental status

I told CD the other day that I was two bricks shy of a retaining wall. Then I realized just how apt that phrase was as a description!

I started building this dang wall just about the time the work started on our kitchen. Since then either it has rained and made the steep slope inaccessible, or I've had plans requiring a morning shower, and then been unwilling to get hot and muddy later in the day. I've gone to the store for additional bricks already, but still find myself two bricks short.  It may never be done.


Paralleling this wall project is the kitchen project. We've been "almost done" for two weeks now. At least. I keep postponing photos because I'd rather wait until all the cabinetry is complete. And it.will.never.happen. There is still a hole in the wall where an outlet is not going in after all. There is molding missing from the ceiling here, the floor there, the cabinetry somewhere else. A few cabinet doors were the wrong size and got reordered. All little stuff. I swear, if they'd just put in an eight hour day once or twice, they could be done!

Thinking positively, the ugly tree roots exposed after the last ivy removal are no longer visible from the house. The wall is doing its job, finished or not. I can't fill it in with dirt because I've learned that roots rot when uncovered roots become covered. It was suggested that I put a larger brick row on top to make seating.  Possible.

The kitchen is usable. It has a stove, oven, sink, garbage disposal, dishwasher... all the good stuff. It has a counter, some cabinets and most of a floor. Nothing to complain about. Just two bricks shy.

mucho bueno

The electrician tells me my kitchen is mucho bueno. I think he's right!  Our final inspection is coming soon and the appliances are up and running. That means we have convenient running water (never, ever underestimate running water!), a garbage disposal and dishwasher, an oven that heats, and even a stove all properly vented to the outside. There are plenty of unfinished details, but there is clear light at the end of the tunnel.

There has been great discussion about what we will cook in our kitchen first. We're seriously tired of cooking everything in the microwave. I've purchased some baby red potatoes at our farmers market, so I'm planning to make a potato salad today for the first use of the cooktop. The top choices for the oven are blueberry cobbler and bacon. Either one would give it a good smell! In honor of a working oven, I am polling my dear readers. What should we cook? Any suggestions beyond these can be left in the comments!

First Food in New Oven?

the walls came tumbling down

This is the Kitchen Before, looking at the cooking area from the eating area. The open door you can see is to the dining room, and just before it is a right turn to a hallway. (You can slightly see a closet door in there).  Next to the fridge is the microwave, then a pantry before that hallway.

And this is after the first day of construction (demolition), taken from further back, so the still-existing eating area shows as well. As you can tell, the table became our sole food prep surface. Soon the 2x4's separating the kitchen from the dining room came out. The wall creating a hallway between our stairwell and living room disappeared. (The one that contained the kitchen closet seen in the first picture.) A big-ole-beam went up into the ceiling.  The cabinets and appliances were all delivered the same day, so our cars are going to get used to living outside.



As Bug slipped himself between 2x4's one morning to enter the kitchen, I told him that we should get used to the new walls and walk around them to enter the kitchen. He came back with, "I can walk through walls!  Why shouldn't I?!"  And, to that, I had no answer.

The space began to solidify for us as we gained framing, and didn't change significantly more although the electricians busted holes everywhere they looked. The drywall made the biggest difference in our ability to see what we were getting. Here is the same view of the kitchen, looking into the dining room.

I wish I'd taken "before" pictures of the dining and living rooms. I knew we were enlarging the doors to them and between them, but the change is huge. The hallway is gone, giving the living room six more feet, toward the stairs.  It looks and feels much different.

Here is the view from dining to living room, before:

And now I can't get far enough away to photograph it. Suffice it to say, there is only a slight demarcation of wall and header between the rooms.

After the initial demolition, I thought we were basically through the dust stage, but I was corrected. Not only do I need to live through drywall, but the hardwoods will be sanded at some point too.  I bought more wine and chocolate.

They will patch the hardwoods where walls used to be, "feathering in" boards from areas they'll no longer be needed, such as under the cabinets. The floor guy (there's a new guy for everything) expressed concern that he wasn't going to have enough salvaged wood and that new boards can't ever match perfectly. I offered him the upstairs landing, done with the same wood.  So now our upstairs can be ripped up and dusty too! (ok, dustier.)

the cupboards were bare

Poor Old Mother Hubbard!  To live like this regularly would be the end of me.  I didn't expect the prep for the kitchen demolition to be so hard. I'd packed so much up ahead of time.  I thought that "all" that was left was the kitchen cupboards.  Ha!  I cannot possibly have had all THAT in my kitchen cupboards!

The only difference between what we did for the demo and what one does to move is that we didn't have to pack as carefully.  Once glassware got upstairs to the office it's safe; it isn't going to get rattled around in a truck. In fact when we ran out of boxes we just piled up dishes on the floor.


I did a lot of the "I'll clean that when I unpack it" and "I'll throw some of this away when I unpack" that I know is bad. But I was getting so tired at that point I didn't much care.  Ideally I'll be able to take my time unpacking and can wash things and find a new home for everything worth keeping.


The dumpster arrived too- a huge behemoth of a thing. I had to film the depositing of it in the driveway for two young boys who had to go to school, and missed it.

I have a guy

"I have a guy."

Haven't you ever found yourself jealous when your friend or neighbor says this?

I actually have three guys.  I know! Two are brothers. They can do just about anything for you and they're thorough and licensed.  The other guy is strong as an ox and asks for so little money it feels wrong.

It was the later guy who was over yesterday while CD and the boys were out of town, camping. I've already had two friends ask for his number.  I'm not really eager to share. He'll just have less time for me.


In five hours he ripped out as much English Ivy as I could have cleared in two full spring seasons. Amazing really. The backyard is back on schedule for the Great Ivy Removal Project. The two thirds of the backyard that we're working on are almost clear. There is ivy returning which needs attention, but I think its easier to pull it the second time. I asked my new guy if he could come back and he said he'd come over next week.

Despite having a guy, I have work ahead of me now because  I like to do the planting myself. I've got five small azaleas to put in the ground asap. Maybe I'll go get a dozen more while they're still so cheap. This is the part of the backyard that shows from the street above the driveway. Since I'm going to have to water up there this summer regardless, I might as well fill the area right away and make it look nice.

antsy

I had no idea how long this kitchen renovation was going to drag out!  I'd waited until the new year to get started and had hopes that it would be done by spring break. Its spring break now and we're still discussing a start date. O Holy Cabinetry! Let's get this going!

This is the first time we've had a project important enough? big enough? expensive enough? confusing enough! to need an architect. Usually we've contacted our Always Available Home Project Dude and he's come in and begun immediately. Design decisions were made as needed. 

This time we dawdled around with our architect/designer friend. We'd take a few days to comment back to her, she'd take a few days before contacting us again and then a few days to make changes to the blueprints.  Weeks went by without a firm decision made on anything. We didn't meet with House Builder Jack until late February. I was still optimistic that it would be started Soon.  Oh, no. Another month went by with intent to drop off some cabinet stain samples, some countertop materials, some tile and our time spent agonizing over the differences between flax and taupe.

I feel like I've done by part. We've chosen cabinets. We've chosen a counter material and a backsplash tile. I even encountered a sale at one of the big box stores that included the stove and oven I'd chosen, so I've ordered them. I asked House Builder Jack when to have them delivered and his suggestion of April 30 still had me optimistic. (We'd be ready for appliances by April 30!) No. He wants everything on site (translation: in our garage) before starting.

At this point we won't be done before school is out at the end of May. We'll be lucky if they're done before we leave town on a planned summer trip.  This is just as tedious as the nursery rhyme.

"This is the house that Jack built..."
by Mother Goose
This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

bright copper kettles

I was looking around our living room realizing that I will soon need to pack up some of the Stuff. (Yes, construction starts soon!) I realized we have a lot of Stuff. I'm not a pack rat, and in fact I often toss things I then find I need again, so my mind immediately went to "what here can I toss?"  But then I saw this:

This is a carving made a long time ago by my father from one solid piece of wood. Now it has links and working gears. I've always loved fiddling with it and I keep it out on an end table so others can enjoy playing with it too.

I realized that most of the Stuff around me is important to me. Yes, there are probably a few things that won't make it back out of the boxes, but most of it will. I began to walk around my house looking for more of My Favorite Things.


My recipe file. This used to be my grandmother's. She was a great baker and I remember seeing the relative size of the recipe sections inside it when I received it after her death. There were an equal amount of cards under each category of "desserts" "cookies" "cakes" "pies/pastries" and "frostings/fillings." Yes really. The sweets took up most of the file. I suppose the cooking she did was by memory; a roast chicken didn't need a recipe card but baking usually does. I've tied up and put away a good number of her recipes to make room for my own, but the cut-out fruits on the top, matching her kitchen wallpaper, remind me of her every time I use it. (I seem to accumulate both cookie recipes and appetizers. She'd be proud.)

The Hummels on my dresser are from another grandmother. When she passed away, family members found multiple, conflicting lists of items she wanted to give away. Headache. I'm grateful to have these from her collection. Are they valuable? I don't know and I don't care. They're valuable to me regardless.

 The bear toward the right is my Teddy. I've had him most of my life and I'm happy to have him here in Bug's room, still nearby.  Next to him is Easter. (I leaned toward practical names) Her original dress, which matched the plaid in her ears, was left tied to a hotel bedpost somewhere between CA and IN in 1974. Sister M.D. made the jointed bear on the left. And the red overalls he gets to wear. My china doll is on the end.  Bug is sentimental enough to enjoy having them around.


This is a baby sized baseball hat. It used to fit my baby. I keep it hanging in my bedroom because Bug inherited that sentimentality from someone legitimately. I should have put something next to it to show the relative size. It fit him until he could sit independently, so still tiny (in that Bug was ever tiny.)


This takes more explanation. I don't even remember what year this is from, but I'll guess that Bug was three or four. I just remember that I was going to fly to Indianapolis with the boys and leave CD home alone. Bug was trying to express how much he would miss his daddy by stretching his arms wide. I took a long piece of masking tape and let him show me. He helped write on it "I will miss Daddy when I leave T H I S much." When the kitchen is finished and repainted should this be removed and the door repainted? Probably. But only if the tape comes off intact.

Rodgers And Hammerstein
My Favorite Things

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into Springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

the shape of things to come

Our friend, K, has drawn up architectural drawings of our remodeled house. I say house instead of kitchen because we're making minor changes all over the downstairs which will cause a dramatic change in the way we live in the house.

She gave us A, B and C. A being the most modest and C the most dramatic. We've chosen C with modifications, and hope that drama isn't necessarily expensive.  We will meet with the contractor and get that settled soon I hope.

Here is a Before of my kitchen.  The eat-in area opens to both the backyard and the garage and has doors to both a half-bath and a laundry room, as well as an opening to our den. The table will go, replaced by a round one, maybe with a window seat, regardless of which design we choose.

The cooking portion of the kitchen will change more. The counter will extend further toward the bay window without a corner bend.  The sink will stay put but the dishwasher will move to the opposite side. The oven wall will be gone, taking the door to the dining room with it. Vamoose. Instead we will see all the way across the house. On the other side, across from the sink, the fridge, oven and pantry will share the wall space. The pantry will actually go in what is now the doorway to a hall. On the reverse side will be a coat closet since our home does not currently have one.

But the biggest changes really, seem to be in the rest of the house. We aren't making huge structural changes. We're enlarging the opening from dining room to living room and removing one section of the adjoining wall to remove the hallway and add that space to the living room. The main difference is in the space usage. We'll move the piano to the room with the seldom-used fireplace and kids' desk. The futon-sofa and one chair will make the room a music and study room. The living room will be several feet bigger and will gain the television. We'll have three armchairs and a large sofa in there, making socializing a bit easier.

Morris

Caption contest?

*  Perhaps they will perch on my head while they eat.

*  Just ignore me and go ahead with your seed eating.

* I get fed fancy cat food at home, so you have nothing to worry about.

* Me? Eat a bird? How offensive!

* I didn't realize I was by the bird feeders. Is that a problem?

* Odd. There were lots of birds here earlier.

* Bird feeder, cat feeder. Whatever.