tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76131882314263295512023-11-16T12:57:02.219-05:00Croquet & CocktailsAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-75545992711728285772013-10-22T23:01:00.000-04:002013-10-22T23:01:24.620-04:00One is the loneliest numberUm. Hi. I'm Amy. This is my blog. I've been missing for a while. Sorry. You probably forgot about us here.<br />
<br />
I have excuses. Most of them are lame, so I'll spare you.<br />
<br />
I do have one pretty good one...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8ky8JnlqLM1OVG8-ZTQc8MYHqauYRK6rJPwv27N7ZOjBByInrCiHduPi0-pJb4ehimbEQlvsxk8TG6LJrLDO9Y96anBuJ_sx5VKqiz-ExrSKkN4ELuSPD4YJwzApNsiEApUsVqbmduSS/s1600/8+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8ky8JnlqLM1OVG8-ZTQc8MYHqauYRK6rJPwv27N7ZOjBByInrCiHduPi0-pJb4ehimbEQlvsxk8TG6LJrLDO9Y96anBuJ_sx5VKqiz-ExrSKkN4ELuSPD4YJwzApNsiEApUsVqbmduSS/s400/8+weeks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
While I've been away I've been gestating our second baby!!!! I'm just a few days shy of 14 weeks and feeling pretty healthy. We should be welcoming our little bundle around April 23. (Or not. Little Man was three weeks early, so I'm not marking my calendar or anything. This one will come when he or she comes.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW1fKgsKp2XgZw9GzbyXWD3gLt0fKfYeMTRlbZEJcm3t-dg1RjZiScDAeR3yxkPa5VaEE9SZmh_fu0by0H7uTfIniz_B17tJzAgHTECaJlEWTPX7CsRWyFHx75_-Sbs8KT8E3Zk_y8phY/s1600/12+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW1fKgsKp2XgZw9GzbyXWD3gLt0fKfYeMTRlbZEJcm3t-dg1RjZiScDAeR3yxkPa5VaEE9SZmh_fu0by0H7uTfIniz_B17tJzAgHTECaJlEWTPX7CsRWyFHx75_-Sbs8KT8E3Zk_y8phY/s400/12+weeks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
With Little Man, I was tired and sick. The nausea was pretty constant for about 12 weeks and there was some (but thankfully not much) puking going on. I was also really tired. This time the first twelve weeks were pretty much the same--except I never did puke (praise be!)-- but chasing a toddler around definitely made it seem much, much harder. Some days I didn't know if I was coming or going.<br />
<br />
I'm not complaining. I know as far as pregnancies go, I've been blessed. I'm so, so, so lucky. Thus far (and hopefully throughout) I haven't have debilitating sickness or chronic pain. I can stay active and live my nine months virtually unencumbered. (Or as unencumbered as one can be while growing a human being--its all relative, right?)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsyE7idjjTDEdxXeB6q-N41wXoGg3AVE526bUb6x39OfJAQKou0DWbF-hoWYPVHG3xx84x48Mk_QtdQL13khiEDgp2iOMMj1pZ7go6iBKqXjdlp753fh0ydbLNM9djZdTi3DitxlHuQbf/s1600/biking+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsyE7idjjTDEdxXeB6q-N41wXoGg3AVE526bUb6x39OfJAQKou0DWbF-hoWYPVHG3xx84x48Mk_QtdQL13khiEDgp2iOMMj1pZ7go6iBKqXjdlp753fh0ydbLNM9djZdTi3DitxlHuQbf/s400/biking+2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the photo above I'm obviously unencumbered on our recent 25 mile bike ride in West Virginia. Not every preggo would be able to do that, I suppose. It was, however, a completely flat 25 miles, so don't get too impressed with my feat.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
But enough about my pregnancy symptoms and bike riding prowess. Lets talk about the title of this little post. See, I'm an only child. (Technically, I do have step siblings who I love very much, but because of age differences and living situations, our time together was limited.) While I don't feel like being an only child made me lonely per-se, I did often see my friends with siblings and feel a twinge of jealousy. Beau, on the other hand, has three sisters. I'm sure that posed its own set of challenges when they were younger, but family get-togethers now are so incredibly fun. Beau and I both wanted to be able to give Little Man a sibling (or two, who knows what the future holds...) to share life with.<br />
<br />
Part of me thinks we might be absolutely insane for having two under two years old. Sometimes our house is absolute chaos with just one energetic toddler. What could it possibly be like with two? I push those thoughts away and think about what it will be like to have two kids who are close enough in age to be buddies. Yes, basically I ignore the initial years when my twenty-three month old won't understand why mom isn't his and his alone. I'm ignoring the thought of my three year-old trying to play with my one year-old and being too rough or getting frustrated with not being able to play the way he wants. I know all of these are teachable moments; they are life lessons that need to be learned. So, perhaps that's why I ignore my inner anxiety and I focus on our sheer joy. Yeah, we'll go with that.<br />
<br />
When I was pregnant with Little Man, Beau kept talking about going for Irish twins. Since he didn't go through pregnancy or labor, I felt I had the authority to veto that idea quickly. When Little man was about a year old I got more comfortable with the idea of going through the whole ordeal again. (And baby fever started to hit hard...)<br />
<br />
And, well, to spare you the details here we are. We're happy. We're nervous. We're perhaps a little crazy. Most of all, though, we know we are blessed.<br />
<br />
So, dear readers, thank you for your patience while I've been "away." Thank you for spending your time reading about and caring about my family. Hopefully I'm back and I'll be able to share our chaos with you far more regularly!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Any advice for a soon-to-be mom of two?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-24523310701473952052013-09-06T22:48:00.002-04:002013-09-06T22:54:49.947-04:00Bop Bop BopI love to read.<br />
<br />
I don't get to do much of it these days.<br />
<br />
OK, that's not entirely true. I actually do quite a bit of reading, but the books I'm currently reading are not very <i>literary</i> in nature.<br />
<br />
Currently board books are my thing.<br />
<br />
When Little Man was a few months old he could care less about books. He didn't have the patience or attention span for them. They say parents or caregivers should read to their children daily. (Who are <i>they</i>, anyway?) I tried that, but he just wasn't interested.<br />
<br />
How is that possible? I'm an <i>English teacher</i> for goodness sake. How would that look to have an illiterate kid? Would the state rescind my license? Was I doing irreparable damage to my baby by not reading to him every day? Will he not get into Harvard because of it?<br />
<br />
Turns out such stressful questions were a little premature. Something clicked and for the past five or six months Little Man has been a reading machine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2PnCBO628AM9S_oEEas93Ex77gYXatPjvZEhVKlcv_6-jYyHQ-BN80CvmWGSH4dXAZY9moy2SZ6-2-jfebjU4NUfNNlgk_G_N29YWlSFLj_zra79W5dIc4SBvUe7VlIjz4apVoq2KQd_/s1600/LittleBlueTruck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2PnCBO628AM9S_oEEas93Ex77gYXatPjvZEhVKlcv_6-jYyHQ-BN80CvmWGSH4dXAZY9moy2SZ6-2-jfebjU4NUfNNlgk_G_N29YWlSFLj_zra79W5dIc4SBvUe7VlIjz4apVoq2KQd_/s400/LittleBlueTruck.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
His very favorite series these days is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Little-Blue-Truck-Board-Book/dp/0547248288/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1378520401&sr=8-1&keywords=little+blue+truck">The Little Blue Truck</a> Series. We got one as a gift from <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/06/aunt-betsy-tear-down-this-wall.html">Aunt Betsy</a> back when he was not a reader. Then one day he decided Little Blue was the coolest thing. I lucked into finding the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Little-Blue-Truck-Leads-board/dp/0547575742/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_y">second book</a> at T.J. Maxx--I had no idea it existed before seeing it there-- right before <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/06/first-birthday-party.html">Little Man's first birthday</a>. It made the prefect gift.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtcd_PuMusrE5_VH0UTlqvKLYyGmutLZoSeBkltu8KEuGnr4e2BmWx1fJGfMnMwZ379evyOWcrLVm2Hzi-ZFMWiVFvxp5XSr2-wqUMzfxU9BYw7FUCa-ceq6Nh2h8VWqE9Hpz0Rpr6JsY/s1600/little+blue+truck+leads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtcd_PuMusrE5_VH0UTlqvKLYyGmutLZoSeBkltu8KEuGnr4e2BmWx1fJGfMnMwZ379evyOWcrLVm2Hzi-ZFMWiVFvxp5XSr2-wqUMzfxU9BYw7FUCa-ceq6Nh2h8VWqE9Hpz0Rpr6JsY/s400/little+blue+truck+leads.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Since then, we have read each of the two books many, many, <i>many</i> times a day (among a great many others, of course). I pretty much have them committed to memory. Actually, so does Little Man. There is one point in "Little Blue Truck Leads the Way" where Blue is leading a parade and the people watching yell "Hooray" and clap. Just before I ask Little Man to turn to that page, he claps. It's adorable.<br />
<br />
But not as adorable as him saying "Bop, bop, bop" while making a honking motion to let me know he wants to read. Often the first thing he does when I go into his room in the morning is "bop, bop, bop" at me.<br />
<br />
In fact, he "bop, bop, bops" at most trucks when we are out. It is easily the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.<br />
<br />
My boy loves to read! And best yet, he loves to read these books that have really great messages about helping your friends (and sometimes non-friends who happen to be in need) and going single file instead of pushing and shoving.<br />
<br />
I very highly recommend these sweet books to <i>any</i> young reader. There are great street and animal sounds that get little ones engaged, good messages, and an unassuming and kind hero.<br />
<br />
Recently a sticker/activity book was released, but I'm going to hold off on that until I can trust my little terror with stickers. We need to grow into that.<br />
<br />
I really wish Alice Schertle would get cracking on another board book featuring Blue. Little Man does, too.<br />
<br />
What are you reading to the little people in your life?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-74977496830878159392013-08-30T22:00:00.001-04:002013-08-30T22:00:11.786-04:00How to paint over stripes- the satisfaction of a finished productMy life's mission is complete. The stripes are gone, guys!<br />
<br />
Ok, so that's not my <i>life's</i> mission, but it was high up on the list of immediate priorities.<br />
<br />
So with no further ado, I give you my stripeless room:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5punnd1-yog1o8o_6772EiLmKGIDoDluE6_R6_9f04Q7wjwhB67LJ5I4gVqWjHRE4j-DHpd-hgKO3uvjnKponogIReJkZvvMpnQrKvoo0Y4WuuqMGhyOwXqEnkxUFyrU-0QYvTmdcgce/s1600/IMG_3292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5punnd1-yog1o8o_6772EiLmKGIDoDluE6_R6_9f04Q7wjwhB67LJ5I4gVqWjHRE4j-DHpd-hgKO3uvjnKponogIReJkZvvMpnQrKvoo0Y4WuuqMGhyOwXqEnkxUFyrU-0QYvTmdcgce/s400/IMG_3292.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Pretty, huh? Can you even believe the transformation?<br />
<br />
Your level of awe is not sufficient. Here, let me help.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBLSa29QM1X2UkyVHNFgsvEws9EZmkGM2PNWLVaEIIuDQ2H8dv84RQemg2gowJ6AG1yHOYxi2sLagM2uQZx15jMUhCi6m3JWSCbeZVoQOxzr5T_MhLgKULQHSvQKrizbI6jBTKly42Tv5/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBLSa29QM1X2UkyVHNFgsvEws9EZmkGM2PNWLVaEIIuDQ2H8dv84RQemg2gowJ6AG1yHOYxi2sLagM2uQZx15jMUhCi6m3JWSCbeZVoQOxzr5T_MhLgKULQHSvQKrizbI6jBTKly42Tv5/s400/IMG_3144.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
to</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wcVu5DNb7VkRrwY-J5iKkyy_9ZJLuyoB70O6qx22nAIp2658e1qZzFE7YPNzuMbyFKkWVDNRuFootHU8j24xbEdR9soOKRsWhvbZP15amoGiiHx1fohKaMGUxQemUiOe74LZuQK4rL2l/s1600/IMG_3204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wcVu5DNb7VkRrwY-J5iKkyy_9ZJLuyoB70O6qx22nAIp2658e1qZzFE7YPNzuMbyFKkWVDNRuFootHU8j24xbEdR9soOKRsWhvbZP15amoGiiHx1fohKaMGUxQemUiOe74LZuQK4rL2l/s400/IMG_3204.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
OK, that's better. See what a difference it made. No more creepy, homicidal clown visions. Just serenity.<br />
<br />
The color is <a href="http://www.valsparpaint.com/en/explore-colors/color-selector.html?screen=swatchScreen&colorId=101927">Mossy Log</a> by Valspar.<br />
<br />
I had actually chosen a different color at Home Depot, but I forgot that the nearest Depot is like two hours away. We went to a large local hardware store where I picked out a different brand and color, but the employees were too busy to help us. Seriously. Beau asked for help and the guy said, "no." Not, "Oh, yeah, paint's not my department but let me get _____." Or even, "I don't do paint. ______ up front can help you." Instead we just got a "no".<br />
<br />
That didn't sit well with us, so we went to a teensy tiny local construction center that also has a little paint section. I wasn't optimistic, but I got lucky and ended up falling in love with Mossy Log.<br />
<br />
I don't know if you're like me, but picking paint colors can be paralyzingly difficult. Here I was, picking out a third color for the same space in the period of a few days. Yes, there is color matching, but that isn't quite right.<br />
<br />
And what if the color is wrong? What if I spend all. that. time. painting and it ends up looking terrible? That's the part that paralyzes me.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, this time I think I pulled it off.<br />
<br />
Obviously will need to paint the upper portion of the walls, but that'll happen another day. (I want to wait to make sure the rot on this floor isn't bad. If it is, the builders will be tearing out one whole wall that needs paint. We're all praying that isn't the case. So far the peek under the siding looks relatively rot-free.<br />
<br />
So, where I <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/08/how-to-paint-over-circus-tent-stripes.html">last left off</a> I had sanded and patched, sanded again, and wiped. The only other prep work I did was taping. Even though we are going to replace the floors and I'll paint the upper half of the walls, I have no idea when either of those will happen. I can be a little "free" with paint, so I wanted to keep my "freedom" restricted so I'm not looking at it for the next millennium.<br />
<br />
To start the painting process, I primed. Unfortunately, the little store we went to didn't have a primer with the same color base as our Mossy Log. Normally, you would prime in the color you are going to paint, but because we didn't know what the primer would look like if we added the color to the wrong base, we played it safe and left the primer white.<br />
<br />
The Valspar Medallion paint we used is a primer and paint in one, but a few days before I put <a href="http://www.valsparpaint.com/en/explore-colors/color-selector.html?screen=swatchScreen&colorId=101660">Bran Muffin</a> over the purple bedroom and it took two coats.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObVrze7T7N08VIKe3Lg7SdmL9KCmB_PDNnp63wjOvJzZGx42bK-fSIO8DFsQNrB5LEiUZcbkJwrOUBVu3QUsD5J65PIjQ36Wo01mCI6BH-ikOwljYrZrULuXXItNqKnXkbEwMvS3gR-8d/s1600/IMG_3262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObVrze7T7N08VIKe3Lg7SdmL9KCmB_PDNnp63wjOvJzZGx42bK-fSIO8DFsQNrB5LEiUZcbkJwrOUBVu3QUsD5J65PIjQ36Wo01mCI6BH-ikOwljYrZrULuXXItNqKnXkbEwMvS3gR-8d/s320/IMG_3262.JPG" width="219" /></a></div>
<br />
Here's the bedroom. It probably feels bad for not having a whole post devoted to it, but you kind people can only take so much rambling about paint...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7CS3YUiFFmrNeA03CqpGxHualzq2j0wMr0TnyMFtZ2j5l7WGihJOq7O0_9-182MF8jIt5EIJVbth2itEct5xkkLzYia8Zh-6h3O3ao5JI9y9mG-7-tV9bvoDg82X25cLoYAd6E6ZUNwuc/s1600/IMG_3120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7CS3YUiFFmrNeA03CqpGxHualzq2j0wMr0TnyMFtZ2j5l7WGihJOq7O0_9-182MF8jIt5EIJVbth2itEct5xkkLzYia8Zh-6h3O3ao5JI9y9mG-7-tV9bvoDg82X25cLoYAd6E6ZUNwuc/s400/IMG_3120.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
See how good that looks!?! I'm a painting fool.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I knew that covering the stripes and the burgundy was going to take at least three coats of the Valspar if we didn't use a coat of primer. The primer was significantly cheaper and I thought it would probably not do my heart good if I didn't prime and the first coat of paint looked terrible. That's pretty much how technical we got about the "to prime or not to prime" question.<br />
<br />
The coat of primer looked terrible.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhot95W5_nBn83p7jP07dUQXccikG9iWN_PkY0hBPZtFUTbjOryLGIARmwaLC8wGyT-Hg4GmJgUr36JNI3TiQMp9yQoSLQ6CrwT4kHvYu6CWI6XzOsIN0ETnOFSoblwMQmug_uMMOh6yu_O/s1600/IMG_3146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhot95W5_nBn83p7jP07dUQXccikG9iWN_PkY0hBPZtFUTbjOryLGIARmwaLC8wGyT-Hg4GmJgUr36JNI3TiQMp9yQoSLQ6CrwT4kHvYu6CWI6XzOsIN0ETnOFSoblwMQmug_uMMOh6yu_O/s400/IMG_3146.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE-IOBNsBseG9_EN7rUJlx6vm0yez9dq8slDxGEALQe_9cW7GgoqNSX9MYNgZzDfimrVRUgd7pOct9OwWBQ_wUzMbTL0NiFlq3UdCZ2gxuuAp7I6QXW-VI5qfZIS8Zxms1BRBw-KvsVrm/s1600/IMG_3145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUE-IOBNsBseG9_EN7rUJlx6vm0yez9dq8slDxGEALQe_9cW7GgoqNSX9MYNgZzDfimrVRUgd7pOct9OwWBQ_wUzMbTL0NiFlq3UdCZ2gxuuAp7I6QXW-VI5qfZIS8Zxms1BRBw-KvsVrm/s400/IMG_3145.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But I was OK with that. It was white. It was on an awful color and it was a cheap brand.<br />
<br />
Had we had access to the ridiculously large selection of a store like The Home Depot, we probably would have opted for a better primer, but for all intents and purposes, the bargain basement version did the trick.<br />
<br />
The next day I had Beau take Little Man out so I could do my first coat of the Mossy Log. They went back to the tiny local hardware store and my son got to dump a load from a front loader. But that is a whole different story.<br />
<br />
As a side note, the Valspar Medallion is very low VOC and safe for children. As safe as paint fumes can be. I still prefer he not be in the building when I paint. That and he's very "helpful" and I had visions of him finger painting on my walls. Here is is trying to be helpful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibolelHqDev0YecLQ1pcpp3za87K9lVF5nK4XMitP5wuTSPMgLrbvsx51H1PM_HaPmY01BQNRRE2396cE_YH3nBkWmtfddzfTWr2iPwOR7a6D9sa5hAc-_HHXIV6PITHdsgwTWVmKBJ7w1/s1600/IMG_3291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibolelHqDev0YecLQ1pcpp3za87K9lVF5nK4XMitP5wuTSPMgLrbvsx51H1PM_HaPmY01BQNRRE2396cE_YH3nBkWmtfddzfTWr2iPwOR7a6D9sa5hAc-_HHXIV6PITHdsgwTWVmKBJ7w1/s400/IMG_3291.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I had a minor heart attack when I painted both striped walls and before starting the burgundy walls I turned to admire my hard work. The stripes were back. Like the killer clown of my nightmares. Like a a bad meal at a greasy diner that creeps up hours later. I almost cried.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjend0gDsvmb-LWDq5FPUCWy-2dYFdTI-wa-Ym1JIQEBkmyM0SMRlMZ8DBrR-6z_MpYGS15yLDcAWB5IiwoQrfSd9hMTHIKb_ejsBhovk6okZe2Q5EqBmBrjNBMA3bRq3ImSwTAbR7a0hNS/s1600/IMG_3206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjend0gDsvmb-LWDq5FPUCWy-2dYFdTI-wa-Ym1JIQEBkmyM0SMRlMZ8DBrR-6z_MpYGS15yLDcAWB5IiwoQrfSd9hMTHIKb_ejsBhovk6okZe2Q5EqBmBrjNBMA3bRq3ImSwTAbR7a0hNS/s400/IMG_3206.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Dejected, I moved on to my burgundy walls. When I went back to scowl at the stripes that were showing through, they were gone. Like magic. I could have kissed them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5punnd1-yog1o8o_6772EiLmKGIDoDluE6_R6_9f04Q7wjwhB67LJ5I4gVqWjHRE4j-DHpd-hgKO3uvjnKponogIReJkZvvMpnQrKvoo0Y4WuuqMGhyOwXqEnkxUFyrU-0QYvTmdcgce/s1600/IMG_3292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5punnd1-yog1o8o_6772EiLmKGIDoDluE6_R6_9f04Q7wjwhB67LJ5I4gVqWjHRE4j-DHpd-hgKO3uvjnKponogIReJkZvvMpnQrKvoo0Y4WuuqMGhyOwXqEnkxUFyrU-0QYvTmdcgce/s400/IMG_3292.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Two days later, I quickly applied my second coat and I got my finished product. If you look closely enough, there are still slight bumps where the stripes were. I don't know why you would, though. There is soothing Mossy Log on the walls.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrM1hG-8v9-WBxBpts8bRVbhIX9H9uUEOlB2zr-P9DvIWU5RYgxjPHX0zmsglJMfmNAjiGFm5XJUW0skvJsttUrBgM1AtNURe0PViEXlxdHe3CR2Q8-4h9S_f93RvGVTmioW-KFijaml2/s1600/IMG_3304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrM1hG-8v9-WBxBpts8bRVbhIX9H9uUEOlB2zr-P9DvIWU5RYgxjPHX0zmsglJMfmNAjiGFm5XJUW0skvJsttUrBgM1AtNURe0PViEXlxdHe3CR2Q8-4h9S_f93RvGVTmioW-KFijaml2/s400/IMG_3304.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsIPiurErvXnDJwG0m4yH3ZuX_XG2xewpgNGJ8D46q3wlJxIJmDgVYqx8QwH-pOdxjr4HTDP0BHnCvkSE1FR2EUsxhgO25tEeDfoIzENOkBgVtBVqw5AiXd_OFMXnO-YDG7Pztjg6F-za/s1600/IMG_3301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsIPiurErvXnDJwG0m4yH3ZuX_XG2xewpgNGJ8D46q3wlJxIJmDgVYqx8QwH-pOdxjr4HTDP0BHnCvkSE1FR2EUsxhgO25tEeDfoIzENOkBgVtBVqw5AiXd_OFMXnO-YDG7Pztjg6F-za/s400/IMG_3301.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Did I mention I love it? Imagine what it is going to look like with lovely dark floors and chunky, white baseboards. I want to kiss the walls.<br />
<br />
What do you think? Anyone out there as excited as I am?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-64787286241414848842013-08-19T17:17:00.001-04:002013-08-19T17:17:19.925-04:00Progress isn't always prettyThere is a paint post coming soon, but I took the weekend off painting, so there is one final coat to get on before I can do my big reveal of the stripe-less room. Even now with the splotchy first coat of color on it looks like a new space.<br />
<br />
I'll also share my color choice for the bedroom that is almost done. I won't know what to do when I'm not sleeping in the living area. Maybe I'll just do it for nostalgia's sake.<br />
<br />
Or not.<br />
<br />
Aside from painting, we've had quite a few other projects going on here during our extended stay in construction-ville. Obviously, the guys are still working hard on the decks. They got up to the second floor, found extensive rot-- any one else unsurprised by that???-- and are currently reconstructing the entire second floor west wall. I had no idea it was even possible to replace entire walls until this "little" project. Here's what it looked like about 10 minutes ago.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGKFZfH5ds0K7LU0Jghc-Ao50UUVqxBy8S8BATKc3HFw81S77S7lHaVpbZnlajTUzlvN_uGcoyqTfqOkWJaNau58WfJPqDs0JcrmSlERJ1tAsQyaE53YKk4iR9xxz_1KAF3dtD-zGGeAt/s1600/IMG_3248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGKFZfH5ds0K7LU0Jghc-Ao50UUVqxBy8S8BATKc3HFw81S77S7lHaVpbZnlajTUzlvN_uGcoyqTfqOkWJaNau58WfJPqDs0JcrmSlERJ1tAsQyaE53YKk4iR9xxz_1KAF3dtD-zGGeAt/s640/IMG_3248.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
OK, here's all I know about what is going on. You obviously can't just take out a wall and hope the house won't collapse on itself. To prevent that from happening, the builders had to build a temporary wall to support the weight of the house, tear out the rotten wall, and begin constructing the new, improved, un-rotten wall. In the photo the wall nearest us is the temporary and the outer wall being framed will be the permanent wall. Since I'm upstairs writing this and Little Man is (somehow) napping through all the noise, I'm grateful that the house won't collapse into a rotten heap. Since Beau is currently <i> under</i> the house I'm sure he is grateful as well.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here's where what that looked like this morning:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQ261k3GozAdmdfEN1zaQFUSccCgQsx31rJ_sg14xwlcMfq2mk2m_0TpnejDI6xnKJiK1_G-dc699tBMryBoN5I7yPGshdtgXs1fZyy8ZJr6oama-ce1C7KnrhVl8QiUW1uwVpW7iAxpx/s1600/IMG_3209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQ261k3GozAdmdfEN1zaQFUSccCgQsx31rJ_sg14xwlcMfq2mk2m_0TpnejDI6xnKJiK1_G-dc699tBMryBoN5I7yPGshdtgXs1fZyy8ZJr6oama-ce1C7KnrhVl8QiUW1uwVpW7iAxpx/s640/IMG_3209.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrE7PjmeFGE6G67UvFXEI0OnCISl6IktCGCCp-SOeTcztlgNStQmkZV1IUJXqwaTEw2sieJ0NOv9mEthoOQRQ-Z2t4y4exSzv8GKa4N2JiGU1eFVgOjzfl4VYusaaV_KWejtNBWHrCkrIF/s1600/IMG_3211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrE7PjmeFGE6G67UvFXEI0OnCISl6IktCGCCp-SOeTcztlgNStQmkZV1IUJXqwaTEw2sieJ0NOv9mEthoOQRQ-Z2t4y4exSzv8GKa4N2JiGU1eFVgOjzfl4VYusaaV_KWejtNBWHrCkrIF/s640/IMG_3211.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
See how even the temporary walls look sturdier than what was there?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
OK, so that's what's going on with the builders, but we're not just sitting around watching the fun happen. There's the <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/08/how-to-paint-over-circus-tent-stripes.html">prepping</a> and painting, but that's just the tip of the iceberg.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And like that iceberg that sank an unsinkable ship, what looked at the start of the week to be a manageable to-do list turned into something surprisingly daunting.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Rather than devoting a post to each of the projects we have going on, I thought I'd do a little roundup to catch you up to speed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
1) Since the entire west wall on the second floor is going to be ripped out and reconstructed, we needed to fix the bathroom that wasn't associated with that wall. Here's the sad truth: Since closing on this place, oh, I don't know, <i>seven months ago, </i>we haven't had a fully functional full bathroom. We have had the equivalent of one, but not one one with all necessary functions in one place.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Most full bathrooms have the following: a flushing toilet, a working shower or bath, a running sink, lights, and a mirror. If they are fancy they might have towel bars. (We are decidedly un-fancy here. Nary a towel bar in sight.) The westernmost bathroom had the working shower, toilet and sink, but no mirror and no lights. That was the most functional room in which to bathe. Sad, right? Showering in the dark is an interesting event. I won't miss it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The easternmost bathroom-- (which I will heretofore refer to as the purple bathroom because "easternmost and westernmost" make it sound like we live in some Downton Abbey-esque sprawling estate. We do not. We have two bathrooms on the second floor. Granted, two is a significantly larger number than the number we have in Virginia, so I'm not scoffing at it at all.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I digress. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The purple bathroom has working lights, a nice sink, and a lovely reflective looking glass, but the toilet ran constantly (until we turned off the water supply and ignored it) and the shower leaked into the apartment downstairs. This week I put on my plumber pants (minus the requisite plumber's crack--I hope) which look much like my painting pants.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyixtbKP0PMdITP89-7kDjqroRIzLGuyFq-oQR6nf_n_I9xWjvvVYBzGJRpF84rFYunG2AaH5cqevOmSfjUSvnc5b_GIpK3h2Lb3VxSQsWHM2A9772uwDzyOVtoVzQDmhS6lLmeTiH97OX/s1600/IMG_3208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyixtbKP0PMdITP89-7kDjqroRIzLGuyFq-oQR6nf_n_I9xWjvvVYBzGJRpF84rFYunG2AaH5cqevOmSfjUSvnc5b_GIpK3h2Lb3VxSQsWHM2A9772uwDzyOVtoVzQDmhS6lLmeTiH97OX/s640/IMG_3208.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And I got in there and replaced the guts of the toilet. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9FfbdRhbOtfcKj1wEGOBAzpDvA899hcJ7wxKpNIittJ0xxt1He9FKi6SEAz44Ad27dVlcleOviJMMhwTaAdsAiRgBTYxiHky-3MnCV5yoTkgPeqSk3EHsMHAig4T1Kw9FtdaSpWTa2bD/s1600/IMG_3087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9FfbdRhbOtfcKj1wEGOBAzpDvA899hcJ7wxKpNIittJ0xxt1He9FKi6SEAz44Ad27dVlcleOviJMMhwTaAdsAiRgBTYxiHky-3MnCV5yoTkgPeqSk3EHsMHAig4T1Kw9FtdaSpWTa2bD/s640/IMG_3087.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I did this almost all by myself. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know. I'm pretty amazing.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(Hint: It isn't hard at all.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Then, in a crazy burst of industriousness because we could potentially have a bathroom with all of the basics, Beau sealed the leaking pipe under the shower with silicone and voila, everything was fixed! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Or was it?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today I showered in said non-leaking shower. It didn't leak into the apartment below, but the drain did leak into the crawl space where Beau was working on the forthcoming roundup item #2. (I know, I know. This is the wordiest roundup ever. Bear with me.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
OK, so Beau was in the bowels of the house and sewage was spewing out. Gross. But at least it was just my shower water. (This time...eeeeew.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It turns out that a sewage pipe under the house had been torqued at a strange angle and broke. I ran to visit our new BFFs at the local-ish hardware store and got some rubber couplings so Beau could fix the problem.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now we have one bathroom that has a flushing, non-leaking toilet; a non-leaking shower; a sink; a mirror and lights. Oh, and raw sewage doesn't empty out under the house. Bonus!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is what progress looks like, people. And it happens to be just in time for the builders to rip out the wall of the other semi-functional bathroom. While that would have remedied the darkness problem, I don't think I'm ready to shower in a bathroom that is missing a wall... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
2) In addition to having moisture in the walls of the house, we also had a lot of moisture <i>under</i> the house. (Probably in part thanks to the showers emptying out under the house...) All of the insulation was moldy and sopping. Beau spent the better part of two days in the bowels of the house removing the old and securing itchy, awful insulation to the house.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This was his workspace.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSe4q3swvp3CUhw2eYz6DpUzkuXl9326o-hYV9dVpCzvcNLGcz_1Wxdk9XaMh9KtegCd5YkIMODakvRK8w6fDzqVnqM5oNVrzDZLvXybJjdWIofwlrYN60oHmbnRJprnnmnlqJ5P93cUy/s1600/IMG_3153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDSe4q3swvp3CUhw2eYz6DpUzkuXl9326o-hYV9dVpCzvcNLGcz_1Wxdk9XaMh9KtegCd5YkIMODakvRK8w6fDzqVnqM5oNVrzDZLvXybJjdWIofwlrYN60oHmbnRJprnnmnlqJ5P93cUy/s640/IMG_3153.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Creepy, right?<br />
<br />
You totally wouldn't catch me under there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaUjnGKK_Tco3ZbV7jKnNWv0lH8__j3oeGbNz0UTgt_D9Ej00rDzSWrFZz3768yBaGbWczKytjx8Uf03ISNKEOEdrN_b21BJQ_7LwvwTvF_rg7-TL5KMhaYCcsQCUasCF2imwTa6AeuTb/s1600/IMG_3156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaUjnGKK_Tco3ZbV7jKnNWv0lH8__j3oeGbNz0UTgt_D9Ej00rDzSWrFZz3768yBaGbWczKytjx8Uf03ISNKEOEdrN_b21BJQ_7LwvwTvF_rg7-TL5KMhaYCcsQCUasCF2imwTa6AeuTb/s640/IMG_3156.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I bought him a work light on one of my trips to the hardware store. I think that qualifies me for the most thoughtful wife of the year award.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TTUyYNwb5z3_w_BgnUigcyj53MdvFfOEDdOyZo7dhNWTyatH371rpTTelhsVVFA9sHFwX5Q62x9TpNMYY1vATKB5eSKwcmdAFHAx6a7MKXbJ9B3DmrWEgjEeq7BxGbNinmm9s3mStAGO/s1600/IMG_3238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TTUyYNwb5z3_w_BgnUigcyj53MdvFfOEDdOyZo7dhNWTyatH371rpTTelhsVVFA9sHFwX5Q62x9TpNMYY1vATKB5eSKwcmdAFHAx6a7MKXbJ9B3DmrWEgjEeq7BxGbNinmm9s3mStAGO/s640/IMG_3238.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My husband is so brave.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And damn sexy when he's in his workin' clothes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZr5A6Ehutk4xr6BS_EmcQUBqyvaBB3HAFYxn5Ins3Au-T_oA8sUqVYYlHCLBYtOfFpoVuRFzNGwcE-dpNKCkQiCDOgo4kqVUAbpKustqCmH0bD04Bl-nlvBtxVta5UuX6zu679LIJr7Gw/s1600/IMG_3149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZr5A6Ehutk4xr6BS_EmcQUBqyvaBB3HAFYxn5Ins3Au-T_oA8sUqVYYlHCLBYtOfFpoVuRFzNGwcE-dpNKCkQiCDOgo4kqVUAbpKustqCmH0bD04Bl-nlvBtxVta5UuX6zu679LIJr7Gw/s640/IMG_3149.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sorry, ladies. He's all mine.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
3) In addition to the moisture under the house causing the insulation to become wet, moldy and generally nasty, there was also a nice puddle of water the accumulated against the west wall. I choose to think that the water is not shower water, but is ground water from the abnormally wet year we've had here. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Just go with it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Beau didn't want the water to remain there and compromise the foundation, so he donned his sexy work clothes and started digging a trench to encourage the water to flow away from the house.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw_g1DhxjruxffPYhHdSK4qXMA34G2PBLGaiF9pgkcmrHEXhG0cZ-BDS8xyIPwCFGMD9p_9f-tDkcANIpShceJGfIiG2TyIlS2dzN4DIHfH9DbMiK8nvGKAMmDAk-kvr8HTKUGrwDcImx/s1600/IMG_3161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw_g1DhxjruxffPYhHdSK4qXMA34G2PBLGaiF9pgkcmrHEXhG0cZ-BDS8xyIPwCFGMD9p_9f-tDkcANIpShceJGfIiG2TyIlS2dzN4DIHfH9DbMiK8nvGKAMmDAk-kvr8HTKUGrwDcImx/s640/IMG_3161.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxIG4DiiMdex8f7UJsMng-t1pyLUVdqrHrqXWF5UjPQKVrmMOMgt7uWvaOoTXbLddXoNVTTC5LMRJ7WEjLytxSjnzgW_PkUQO8Bp2PXMQHjZluY2UY_mWxNHIcs2Geuq8pQuB5t6WBinBg/s1600/IMG_3162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxIG4DiiMdex8f7UJsMng-t1pyLUVdqrHrqXWF5UjPQKVrmMOMgt7uWvaOoTXbLddXoNVTTC5LMRJ7WEjLytxSjnzgW_PkUQO8Bp2PXMQHjZluY2UY_mWxNHIcs2Geuq8pQuB5t6WBinBg/s640/IMG_3162.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTLb2CNQB_UFZxiz2e2s3b77UmqkGroG5ps-Klu6HwKfypCDGYQE5zeDmOSPEPx8xdFRihVoMGuAWJzW9TupB-xrP8ixv3rAo4K_4erHI0p3-q8gIki2KgVsKAYCIdr6YozmHdxl-r7-8/s1600/IMG_3164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTLb2CNQB_UFZxiz2e2s3b77UmqkGroG5ps-Klu6HwKfypCDGYQE5zeDmOSPEPx8xdFRihVoMGuAWJzW9TupB-xrP8ixv3rAo4K_4erHI0p3-q8gIki2KgVsKAYCIdr6YozmHdxl-r7-8/s640/IMG_3164.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's ugly, but soon enough that rich soil will start filling in with grass and other assorted mountain growth and it won't look as much like a mud pile. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I hope.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Because little boys are magnetically attracted to mud piles and I don't really want my kiddo playing there anytime soon...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So, there you have it. Those are the big non-painting projects we have had going on here. I know it seems suspiciously like Beau did all of the backbreaking/disgusting/creepy work, which might be true, but someone needs to watch the Little Man. And, in my defense, I did a lot of painting and running to the hardware store. That counts for something, right?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Which of these projects would you least like to do? Don't you think Beau deserves a prize of some sort for doing all of these gross tasks on his vacation? Maybe a new set of coveralls? You can never have too many, you know.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-73567384467202540722013-08-17T11:16:00.001-04:002013-08-17T11:16:27.380-04:00How to paint over circus tent stripes--the prep workIf you've spent any amount of time reading this blog, and specifically the West Virginia posts, you're well aware that this particular feature was <i>not</i> a selling point for us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_tGBhOMDArWMoGNLrl9cDxd9VGD_di6t8donIt17W66YjCgpRN1Diikxuiou9gO3UNn2bUF-GgZuVBgvemhtwlyJAan-WURDiqjdxt3s0B2YvbsH-pgVSS-Qt3OGRfVMdzFMDvB2kd0U/s1600/IMG_1426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_tGBhOMDArWMoGNLrl9cDxd9VGD_di6t8donIt17W66YjCgpRN1Diikxuiou9gO3UNn2bUF-GgZuVBgvemhtwlyJAan-WURDiqjdxt3s0B2YvbsH-pgVSS-Qt3OGRfVMdzFMDvB2kd0U/s320/IMG_1426.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Not only were there stripes, but there were also the "complimentary" accents.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KXppP-UzL7nBzKkKKAF_LUJPMef2h4Ul-jOa8Ih43-M9qvHEdIUw5Ss-tZ4jhIi8KqPCDa2DVjGbzvYMpTOfTKzjKOWztPKYJzAuBbVo_AoT6l6XLhBg7zgPchbpfyaKzmEiLljcjWv3/s1600/IMG_3098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KXppP-UzL7nBzKkKKAF_LUJPMef2h4Ul-jOa8Ih43-M9qvHEdIUw5Ss-tZ4jhIi8KqPCDa2DVjGbzvYMpTOfTKzjKOWztPKYJzAuBbVo_AoT6l6XLhBg7zgPchbpfyaKzmEiLljcjWv3/s320/IMG_3098.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Be forewarned, this post has lots and lots of images of the stripes. It won't be pretty. Also, they were all taken from my iPhone at different times of day. What does that mean? It means there will be all kinds of variations in the colors. It'll be awesome. Prepare your eyes.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span id="goog_1085817263"></span><span id="goog_1085817264"></span><br />
To go so far as to say I abhor this paint job would not be a stretch. At all. It makes me think I'm at a circus. Not in a good way, either. Not like lions doing tricks, elephants being ridden by sparkly ladies and cotton candy. More so in the creepy killer clown way. I knew the second we decided we were going to put an offer in on the <strike>money pit</strike> house that the paint would have to go.<br />
<br />
I thought it would go more quickly.<br />
<br />
Like the day we closed.<br />
<br />
The more I looked at it, though, the more I realized that a coat of paint wouldn't do the trick. There'd need to be some actual effort exerted to make all remnants of the stripes go away. See, there was one spot on the left-hand side of the big striped wall that the previous owner had painted. Maybe she had a narrow pink stripe to the end of the wall and decided it looked funny or something. Anyway, the burgundy had been painted over a pre-exisiting stripe and the ridge from the stripe was very obvious.<br />
<br />
I didn't want a wall of reminder ridges.<br />
<br />
I went to a paint store in Virginia. It shall remain nameless because I think I was given bad advice. The paint expert told me it should be fine to just paint over it. I had hoped that was the case, but there was that one tell-tale-line that made me seriously doubt her advice.<br />
<br />
I purchased a paint sample and decided to paint a test strip. I also purchased <a href="http://www.nortonconsumer.com/AbrasiveSpongesDIY-5X.aspx">this super-handy sanding sponge </a>. I thought maybe taking a little bit off of the ridge would help.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedu1jdMvJf2xteiqsLH5-xSNxba1LlDkCaB_qBCX8LUc6Yv6yL7oaNipYs9bI7GIzEz46wdfEIJgQOWExPIu6HYAWOi09CW7NiVaVUAmostMdKAL1r7g9ArxJbSNaLeid5LmaZJFZQERm/s1600/51HIA62B77L._SL500_AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedu1jdMvJf2xteiqsLH5-xSNxba1LlDkCaB_qBCX8LUc6Yv6yL7oaNipYs9bI7GIzEz46wdfEIJgQOWExPIu6HYAWOi09CW7NiVaVUAmostMdKAL1r7g9ArxJbSNaLeid5LmaZJFZQERm/s1600/51HIA62B77L._SL500_AA300_.jpg" /></a></div>
I sanded a portion of one stripe and painted my sample color over it and a little bit beyond. The ridge was still there where I hadn't sanded (duh), but it was almost completely gone where I had sanded. I formulated a plan that made me very grateful that I had purchased the handle to go with the sponge. I was going to sand all the lines.<br />
<br />
Before doing that, I also got out the spackle and filled in all the holes in the walls. Then I got to sanding.<br />
<br />
To say it was fun would be a overstatement. It wasn't awful, though. I sanded just enough for the ridge to be less noticeable to the touch. I figured if I sanded them off completely then I'd just have smooth stripes on the textured wall and I'd just have smooth reminders of the circus tent wall.<br />
<br />
Little Man is in the super cute mimicking stage, so whenever I'd put my sanding sponge down he'd pick it up and "help."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglndqP6L48PioXJMlJel5t9dVbUgAH4DrQHnDJrz-rWQYo4Ms4CZ_SJBb-P41l5nZUoLvu4__hIKxYzp6KiyGFKvWKNp9XqEgwV647SwFiaI6CXchdyDb93fgpkq7XLCVbjL0TcYkhd7e/s1600/IMG_3049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglndqP6L48PioXJMlJel5t9dVbUgAH4DrQHnDJrz-rWQYo4Ms4CZ_SJBb-P41l5nZUoLvu4__hIKxYzp6KiyGFKvWKNp9XqEgwV647SwFiaI6CXchdyDb93fgpkq7XLCVbjL0TcYkhd7e/s320/IMG_3049.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
So, so, so cute. He even got the idea that I was doing it to the stripes. Unfortunately with child labor laws being what they are, I sent him off with dad rather than keeping him on for the job. Though the house was built well after lead paint laws took effect, I figured all those microscopic paint particles in little lungs can't be a good thing.<br />
<br />
I know, mom of the year award.<br />
<br />
While I was sanding stripes I also sanded the spackled patches. I was starting to grow optimistic that this was going to work.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMe41D1n9u_mCdxjRuBJVzePU1NDCc7755ZWWtLpOo-CMKwy26qk_giNeoLYG4WtyuvEN7XA6hYIQh3ah8HOhV_yIv4266ZJN0Yy01ixmITBa1S6fV3Ry2C0JohUIydhg0sXnjsE2i7uuf/s1600/IMG_3054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMe41D1n9u_mCdxjRuBJVzePU1NDCc7755ZWWtLpOo-CMKwy26qk_giNeoLYG4WtyuvEN7XA6hYIQh3ah8HOhV_yIv4266ZJN0Yy01ixmITBa1S6fV3Ry2C0JohUIydhg0sXnjsE2i7uuf/s320/IMG_3054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
By the way, calendars should not be tacked directly to the wall. These tiny pin holes going up the wall are annoying. PSA of the day. These are just two instances of the many instances of this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiaQxVvFNKuajewFnd2fmE94d75zdwx6-PnvcXqRgvuOCrGbqEMmf2iygjqFQodVAlnJE4qYRfJj4C_td9L9wEKOvnvEoWOBChhSU1iAihz1weax14_5eJ-Lm5eWwnS94-RYbM6SH2na8/s1600/IMG_3055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiaQxVvFNKuajewFnd2fmE94d75zdwx6-PnvcXqRgvuOCrGbqEMmf2iygjqFQodVAlnJE4qYRfJj4C_td9L9wEKOvnvEoWOBChhSU1iAihz1weax14_5eJ-Lm5eWwnS94-RYbM6SH2na8/s320/IMG_3055.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Once upon a time, this house had a land-line. We no longer have one, but the DSL is tied in to the phone. The phone jack was once probably very conveniently placed on this central wall. Now that it just has a modem attached to it, it is an awkward eyesore. Also, notice in the above photo of Little Man sanding that the plug for the modem is temptingly placed where little hands want to reach for it.<br />
<br />
Little Man is getting the motor skills required to put little things in little holes and I really wanted this particular temptation out of his reach. I asked Beau if we could move it. Since the refrigerator is on the other side of the wall, we figured the phone jack could just be moved to the other side of the wall, the modem plugged in to the same outlet as the refrigerator and left sitting atop the refrigerator. Beau said it would be a pretty easy job.<br />
<br />
For once, a project in this house was as straightforward as it should have been. Praise God.<br />
<br />
Beau turned off the modem, removed the faceplate to expose the phone wires and receptacle, unhooked the wires from the phone jack and pulled out the receptacle box.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lYgRWeD50ilk9rRVGeS1KKLCjs0UaoEaHGjS05rL1dgMzCdN6aH-3YqBl1qjg03hKXNTkydcB13By4PlU4_xkr7mJaGpODfXFfPdAwu6Jo1HNkihgBUrIdrmFVg1FW07BXbUSqfeiDpx/s1600/IMG_3123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lYgRWeD50ilk9rRVGeS1KKLCjs0UaoEaHGjS05rL1dgMzCdN6aH-3YqBl1qjg03hKXNTkydcB13By4PlU4_xkr7mJaGpODfXFfPdAwu6Jo1HNkihgBUrIdrmFVg1FW07BXbUSqfeiDpx/s320/IMG_3123.jpg" width="205" /></a></div>
<br />
Isn't it pretty?<br />
<br />
Next he cut a hole in the opposite side of the wall. We opted to move the phone jack higher, but didn't move it horizontally along the wall so we didn't have to move through any studs. I handed the cord up through the old hole to the new one, Beau fed it through and installed the new receptacle, hooked up the wires and we had internet again. (It probably was a little tougher than that, but I was playing with Little Man while daddy worked.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3ZW46NTC_y6nzJrUzf58-saR5qiLpX5yv8gDncnFNPuzfETDjSJWy-0G_2gk7hzvMROmCe4DaOwRzZUQ4BuAdMhaOXKAAXDEqQVOLMytHRemm7wV-cWxjWHT-_J2cdxzgQjLaf-6VINN/s1600/IMG_3125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3ZW46NTC_y6nzJrUzf58-saR5qiLpX5yv8gDncnFNPuzfETDjSJWy-0G_2gk7hzvMROmCe4DaOwRzZUQ4BuAdMhaOXKAAXDEqQVOLMytHRemm7wV-cWxjWHT-_J2cdxzgQjLaf-6VINN/s320/IMG_3125.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
Next we had to patch that gaping hole.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC8XgrNF3t02RRIyaPXoSxYall0hVYeIFH5qGQJxwBRPphxu_dDqlnRpyOc4X6wzRKpNl6YY1Q0GPqBjmUWeCWCP_B1aMOdx5kgxaVcu5labuKHVedICr19UqAiY-13ox22kc0bRyqFVA/s1600/IMG_3126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC8XgrNF3t02RRIyaPXoSxYall0hVYeIFH5qGQJxwBRPphxu_dDqlnRpyOc4X6wzRKpNl6YY1Q0GPqBjmUWeCWCP_B1aMOdx5kgxaVcu5labuKHVedICr19UqAiY-13ox22kc0bRyqFVA/s320/IMG_3126.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Beau put a small board in the hole and secured it to the stud on the right-hand side so that the patch wouldn't be a weak spot in the wall. Next, he screwed in a piece of drywall to the support he had just installed and it was almost as good as new.<br />
<br />
We put a little mud over the patch and sanded it even with the rest of the wall.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTDVOoY7kwEfJDebFiYBJ85K0bm8nvxa_RydIk0pF6-u8wEv8WQJOl0ECvFYH2kCjbLqoBLB6qo8z9XKTTqjZLBp7gtCPAPSF0aHpEBk6mOKXZlLcPuouu2lofj0X9suagsJ3XDjPK9NE/s1600/IMG_3142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTDVOoY7kwEfJDebFiYBJ85K0bm8nvxa_RydIk0pF6-u8wEv8WQJOl0ECvFYH2kCjbLqoBLB6qo8z9XKTTqjZLBp7gtCPAPSF0aHpEBk6mOKXZlLcPuouu2lofj0X9suagsJ3XDjPK9NE/s320/IMG_3142.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The last thing I needed to do to get the wall ready to be primed and painted was to wipe down all of the walls with Mineral Spirits. I did this because there was so much dust from the paint and drywall sanding. I really wanted the paint to adhere nicely to the wall.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lU_LGgAHb45u01A4N6pylbWqw0hb3SDYVlPI2kBNjXNzRW8A6x9kjK3IYcrKWxcZttpyLbueSOqfAPHZujE2re916z9MiV9GaD_Zx-pnutEAQeKZdB94eSzNZ-TuoFIhcH2JZF1HjZn0/s1600/IMG_3097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lU_LGgAHb45u01A4N6pylbWqw0hb3SDYVlPI2kBNjXNzRW8A6x9kjK3IYcrKWxcZttpyLbueSOqfAPHZujE2re916z9MiV9GaD_Zx-pnutEAQeKZdB94eSzNZ-TuoFIhcH2JZF1HjZn0/s320/IMG_3097.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
It's not much to look at, but you can see that the walls are cleaner and (ugh) brighter. (And still damp from the Mineral Spirits.)<br />
<br />
We used <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/p/Klean-Strip-1-Qt-Green-Odorless-Mineral-Spirits-QKGO75001/100677235#.Ug-Nu6W7OFI">Klean-Strip Odorless Mineral Spirits</a> from Home Depot. Obviously, odorless is best when there are little people around, but I also did this step when Beau had the Little Man out and about. Even though it is odorless, it is still a pretty potent chemical--despite sounding like it can make a potent cocktail.<br />
<br />
The next steps are priming and painting. You'll have to wait a bit on that. I've got one coat on and another is in the works. Today is the <a href="http://www.snowshoemtn.com/reservations/mg_366/WineandJazz.search?QSSearch=TRUE&SD=20130817&DUR=2&ADULT=1&CHILD=0&SENIOR=0">Wine and Jazz</a> festival here in Snowshoe, so this girl is taking a day off!!<br />
<br />
Oh, and did you notice I gave the trim a nice crisp coat of white? More on that when I deal with the paint. It'll be a paint-tastic post. I can't wait to show you how great it looks!<br />
<br />
Have you ever had to paint over a feature that required extra steps? How'd you do it?<br />
<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-6762743189144824582013-08-13T21:51:00.000-04:002013-08-13T21:51:40.691-04:00What a difference a day (or two) can makeI mentioned <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/08/progress-is-sometimes-as-slow-as.html">yesterday</a> that because of the rain construction was going pretty slowly.<br />
<br />
Between being approved and the days and days of rain, the guys were able to get a little bit of work done. They started with the bottom deck (obviously) and started digging into the rotted wall. About 80% of that level of the wall was rotted badly enough for them to start fresh. They removed all of the siding, wet and moldy insulation, and rotten wood (studs and all!) and essentially rebuilt the wall.<br />
<br />
When we arrived this weekend the back of the house looked like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDEaDQqNVNgKHW2sbFMxtWVHgJBA64KEffGpPTIiGiFdti1UXJqscv2snhRtc7QsLl1kEyE0WUqvoar0RpPxBnoW4hUUHWreRDOddKTPovp1NE1QlYHcQesV_x3mUw5yeLwiFkKuQUGbp/s1600/IMG_3022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDEaDQqNVNgKHW2sbFMxtWVHgJBA64KEffGpPTIiGiFdti1UXJqscv2snhRtc7QsLl1kEyE0WUqvoar0RpPxBnoW4hUUHWreRDOddKTPovp1NE1QlYHcQesV_x3mUw5yeLwiFkKuQUGbp/s320/IMG_3022.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
You want to see it closer, you say?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGs6qUXGYKWRA94eERgwltkQI8qjQGtytFPJ0h4F-PhaTnGBSh_D47jz0klYBYgJwk_US0YZWq4sf1aXM7hTA1rrnQ2SknFZGJK2VU2mjrR4PK_xq66j2VVSYdECYlwkS2Hzjp6vx5mADz/s1600/IMG_3026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGs6qUXGYKWRA94eERgwltkQI8qjQGtytFPJ0h4F-PhaTnGBSh_D47jz0klYBYgJwk_US0YZWq4sf1aXM7hTA1rrnQ2SknFZGJK2VU2mjrR4PK_xq66j2VVSYdECYlwkS2Hzjp6vx5mADz/s320/IMG_3026.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Closer? Weird. But I'm here to please.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz0N3_go3T51kRI557ZtqMirAaM0p8Rb35tP_dGOWQAJ9jKY2w5DpFW7O9_zg9xnkXVM5ky25RKaRRHUQyfJKlBvlTzm65eR5AC7Jz7AK7tgQxYcCf2XmKuZOAl348zwcKRmlpKCNUCN4/s1600/IMG_3033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz0N3_go3T51kRI557ZtqMirAaM0p8Rb35tP_dGOWQAJ9jKY2w5DpFW7O9_zg9xnkXVM5ky25RKaRRHUQyfJKlBvlTzm65eR5AC7Jz7AK7tgQxYcCf2XmKuZOAl348zwcKRmlpKCNUCN4/s320/IMG_3033.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
There was the majority of one deck completed. That was good. The entire first floor wall had been protected from the rain by sheets of plywood. That was bad. Well, not the protection from the rain part. That's good. We're getting rid of rot, not adding to it. What was unfortunate is the fact that people live down there. Their only real light source had vanished. They had no idea they were in West Virginia. They thought they had been transported to a cave in Afghanistan.<br />
<br />
OK, not really, but they were living in a cave.<br />
<br />
And then yesterday morning at 7:00 we heard the glorious sound of saws and hammers and air compressors. Not the sound of pouring rain. Yippie!!!<br />
<br />
Much to the joy of our renters, the guys were able to get both windows and the fancy new French doors in by midday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicW6tsNfM0yYj1Dkvt-Tja_Xesd767pZs1VWfocvSABZC4NION3L5fVgncJLya5NMUnzswXkol-sIJij-R3lm6E_5gBoUw7viXl-96e4NoIevZuhw84zXv8V8j_fFjM-f0MtqX0ee9FL4Y/s1600/IMG_3095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicW6tsNfM0yYj1Dkvt-Tja_Xesd767pZs1VWfocvSABZC4NION3L5fVgncJLya5NMUnzswXkol-sIJij-R3lm6E_5gBoUw7viXl-96e4NoIevZuhw84zXv8V8j_fFjM-f0MtqX0ee9FL4Y/s320/IMG_3095.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After lunch I looked out the window from the top floor and they were already framing the second story deck. (Obviously the photo above was taken after they'd started the second deck frame. And if you're creepily studying it you might be able to see the sweet baby o'mine, my hubby's arm and poor Andy trying to take a nap. Poor guy with a creepy landlord.)<br />
<br />
By the end of the day yesterday, the house looked like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmf4K4ox8SVdp-XUev7i9idlm5goUCoaR7t0AmeKVe4ZmSYfh3-wi_wXttSo3isMcqHukPgekOcLctSLhcah1KbvL7tkVkfDYUlZsP3LUti5v5rT0dY-alUyZC8vIwXrUER5CoR1EtkRVw/s1600/IMG_3089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmf4K4ox8SVdp-XUev7i9idlm5goUCoaR7t0AmeKVe4ZmSYfh3-wi_wXttSo3isMcqHukPgekOcLctSLhcah1KbvL7tkVkfDYUlZsP3LUti5v5rT0dY-alUyZC8vIwXrUER5CoR1EtkRVw/s320/IMG_3089.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
Can you even believe it?<br />
<br />
Here's more:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QjUbfWmjHry2WcnVeMmV1wgY7EztSp5AKggA3LixrG8acB8BW7bmiqvOC-rhqgnHBKMYwH5p8m3oOLlOe2pDHtUz1QBDt__IMqzmUFgJUnTS0sPbf4kz3to7_UaYGfl6jRTiTeHYjb8a/s1600/IMG_3092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QjUbfWmjHry2WcnVeMmV1wgY7EztSp5AKggA3LixrG8acB8BW7bmiqvOC-rhqgnHBKMYwH5p8m3oOLlOe2pDHtUz1QBDt__IMqzmUFgJUnTS0sPbf4kz3to7_UaYGfl6jRTiTeHYjb8a/s320/IMG_3092.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u89OIVkag9m2kq9JR2cz2caElw3fn1SaXBhcRks_2EHVPWweRerD2q8pZ1h8NhvJIwMhZWqmjOr-UEm2n1zvpE7228j7g-svsYilOhMJTewlFoyMWKGnis3hDTTkCb-EAWR14NXk4zz2/s1600/IMG_3093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4u89OIVkag9m2kq9JR2cz2caElw3fn1SaXBhcRks_2EHVPWweRerD2q8pZ1h8NhvJIwMhZWqmjOr-UEm2n1zvpE7228j7g-svsYilOhMJTewlFoyMWKGnis3hDTTkCb-EAWR14NXk4zz2/s320/IMG_3093.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
It amazes me that a) people can construct sturdy, safe structures with their own hands and 2) it can be done faster than I could make a pot roast. Seriously. Think about that.<br />
<br />
I was so excited that we were finally making progress. Then, this morning at about 5:30 when Little Man started to stir, I heard it. Yep, rain. And lots of it. I was totally convinced that today would be a literal wash.<br />
<br />
But, at 7:05 I heard motion downstairs. I had no idea how they were going to work in rainy conditions, but I was happy.<br />
<br />
It turns out that the guys had the foresight to check the weather forecast before leaving here, saw rain and came up with a rain plan. The rustling I heard at 7:05 was them putting plastic sheeting on on the second story deck frame that they built before leaving yesterday. They had a cozy little work tent. Smart guys, huh?!?<br />
<br />
Despite the weather they were able to get the railings built for the first level and they installed the metal joists for the second level. And while I was hoping to show you a picture of the second deck built and the third level framed, I am pretty excited about what they accomplished today.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQxqsaou-ffbcyHTQjrq-VNyylAQOQVdBpEzNAVuziiGVp3zM2hykhFCLeGMkunMtAAnfFKnoyLgLOY-xUmF-7r0Rk9J6u6B5MBfyVM1lj64fkyFo1MTI7UL9aBGeFiPljwxCGdXwMJHb/s1600/IMG_3099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQxqsaou-ffbcyHTQjrq-VNyylAQOQVdBpEzNAVuziiGVp3zM2hykhFCLeGMkunMtAAnfFKnoyLgLOY-xUmF-7r0Rk9J6u6B5MBfyVM1lj64fkyFo1MTI7UL9aBGeFiPljwxCGdXwMJHb/s320/IMG_3099.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_atQFp0WSBLN0SoMKTESyfMIkU4EL0lCdfYWX1zFtXgxcexZVSB-mN6rRjVJYymF4LJO28l5nAnxoyVBX-96MhyphenhyphenQ-HMh_laQn6-kl8WUXkB3IlvuIWvSFmkFIJ-hXxAM_X-Vsal5t0RO/s1600/IMG_3100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_atQFp0WSBLN0SoMKTESyfMIkU4EL0lCdfYWX1zFtXgxcexZVSB-mN6rRjVJYymF4LJO28l5nAnxoyVBX-96MhyphenhyphenQ-HMh_laQn6-kl8WUXkB3IlvuIWvSFmkFIJ-hXxAM_X-Vsal5t0RO/s320/IMG_3100.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
And yes, the sun did come out as they were leaving in the late afternoon, thank you very much.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, they've got other jobs that are going to take them elsewhere the rest of this week, but that's OK. Beau and I have some projects going on around (and under) the house that need to be shared. The under project is happening in that creepy little door that's open to the crawl space in the photo above. Guess who's not involved in that project.<br />
<br />
Oh, and here's a scary story. When the guys were cleaning up at the end of the day I popped out to take a look at the day's progress. I said I was so glad to have a sturdy, safe deck again and Randy shared with me the condition of the old decks. I knew they were bad. Turns out I had no idea.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVaUehnhD7YdVajmQLWsuvdKFSDBY_RBnmIwy_P8Ko2KEqeNWDc7-hAckivSc7kUNCbol04CgRrwP6D6teFe7fEXYvuVspCQSx8VnUDSLOPZ-wO4baey1Pr4MD5HEHvpml1uZJLMgiZUw/s1600/IMG_3022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVaUehnhD7YdVajmQLWsuvdKFSDBY_RBnmIwy_P8Ko2KEqeNWDc7-hAckivSc7kUNCbol04CgRrwP6D6teFe7fEXYvuVspCQSx8VnUDSLOPZ-wO4baey1Pr4MD5HEHvpml1uZJLMgiZUw/s320/IMG_3022.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
See the green stuff between the siding and the plywood? It is a canvas-like material. Randy told me that the upper deck was literally being held to the house by that because the material behind it was so rotted that all of the fasteners could be pulled out <i>by hand</i>. In case you don't have the same image in your head that I do, let me paint a picture. <i>That deck is probably 45 feet off the rocky, steep ground. I'D BEEN OUT THERE WITH MY BABY. </i>I literally wanted to throw up when that occurred to me.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Remember, rebuilding our decks wasn't really on our radar when we first bought the house. They looked and felt fine. Had we not casually asked Stuart and Randy to come out, take a look and give us some ideas on starting places... I can't even finish that sentence.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I need to wash all of that from my little head before calling it a night. This might help: </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXBbNbg-h1UcpOSDpuVbl8QzfhqEMkB1C2dpuCscBpm-neslqlEsO0TBKEkPP3o61aLoKj0MLhzMlNl7zJQi6ldkZTXFlZuaZmJy9oF3F-xWVam5YQRdCTOXEnBoz2AxBs6VWG4yalV0R/s1600/IMG_3036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXBbNbg-h1UcpOSDpuVbl8QzfhqEMkB1C2dpuCscBpm-neslqlEsO0TBKEkPP3o61aLoKj0MLhzMlNl7zJQi6ldkZTXFlZuaZmJy9oF3F-xWVam5YQRdCTOXEnBoz2AxBs6VWG4yalV0R/s320/IMG_3036.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
That was sunset the other night. For real. Like I didn't need to use a filter on that bad boy. And you all know I don't know a single thing about using photoshop. That amazing sight is straight from the camera of my trusty iPhone. Soon(ish) we'll be on our safe, sturdy deck watching the sun creep below the horizon and the image of my little family plunging to our rotted-deck deaths will be a distant nightmare.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What's the scariest thing you've heard this week? Or best? Or funniest? Or whatever?</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-5494508853184285242013-08-12T22:09:00.001-04:002013-08-12T22:09:50.289-04:00Progress is sometimes as slow as molasses So, remember <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/07/deck-design.html">here</a> where I touted my skills as a deck designer?<br />
<br />
Funny story about that. While my deck design was pretty amazing, and it was exactly what the ARC (a.k.a. my arch nemesis) asked for, it wasn't good enough for them. Let's recap: They said, "we need deck designs." Our contractor hand delivered his rough sketches with important information like how the decks will be attached to the house and what materials will be used. They said, "Uh, we need professional drawings. Lowe's does them. Those will work." I immediately found the deck design program and designed the 3-D drawings on the program using the sketch our contractor gave us and some additional specifics I harassed him for. I submitted those drawings and got a response that said something to the effect of: hey, this is nice, but the footer depth is not deep enough (this was the one default on the design program. Our existing footers are 40 feet deep and <i>plenty</i> deep to support the decks, but I couldn't show that and the committee had to see it in writing) and we need the drawings to say that your contractor is going to follow code. Among other things.<br />
<br />
Here is where I started to get more than a little frustrated. First, they told me to go to Lowe's. Then, they said the Lowe's product wasn't good enough and they wanted a <i>computer program</i> to say that the contractor was going to do x,y, and z. Let me remind you: they had his original sketches on file. Said sketches already outlined the requested information. And besides, isn't that what permits and inspections are for?!?<br />
<br />
While I wanted to cry/throw things at the computer/scream/use profuse profanity, I did the more logical thing. I went to Lowe's with my printouts--all 15 pages--and explained to the design expert what I needed. He looked at me like I was insane. I explained the ARC and showed him the email outlining what they needed. He basically told me that it couldn't be done on their program (which is the same as the in-store program the expert will use, fyi) and he wished me luck dealing with the committee. Because I'd need it.<br />
<br />
He actually said that.<br />
<br />
To make a long story short, our contractor went to a structural engineer in Elkins, WV who designed what the committee <i>really</i> wanted. I had no problems hiring someone to do this, I just wish I hadn't been sent on a wild goose chase first. (And, I wish I hadn't looked like such a clueless blonde in Lowe's...)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUrbV0KV8U5flDSuDqlnpmh4KwDmajnZPuwoqzU6j3cY92k7HC8mQ12XKnAngCy7ydFKtNyy6LxOyWPQzzuFskNz0UebRTX5Evn5j3cGccHH7lU-xr2NunxCiuCIUG_H9CojCFrPfowfw/s1600/deck+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUrbV0KV8U5flDSuDqlnpmh4KwDmajnZPuwoqzU6j3cY92k7HC8mQ12XKnAngCy7ydFKtNyy6LxOyWPQzzuFskNz0UebRTX5Evn5j3cGccHH7lU-xr2NunxCiuCIUG_H9CojCFrPfowfw/s320/deck+1.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>
<br />
Ok, yeah, they're a little more specific than the Lowe's decks. I get that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTTkKSEfam5Qm9Nlhg5WakGLSvQC11Fvwelbxwygh59xUlnVoKcNuhGgQUPt-7OEnS_gZSf9beij9T-dOFfr1r2a7oAR8lnJSGKk9VUd5KNzPLbrEXs2X1HQD9CEk3fcKVkc9OwiXpRaC/s1600/deck+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTTkKSEfam5Qm9Nlhg5WakGLSvQC11Fvwelbxwygh59xUlnVoKcNuhGgQUPt-7OEnS_gZSf9beij9T-dOFfr1r2a7oAR8lnJSGKk9VUd5KNzPLbrEXs2X1HQD9CEk3fcKVkc9OwiXpRaC/s320/deck+2.jpg" width="282" /></a></div>
<br />
Finally, our decks were approved. Everything was set to go and then, guess what? God laughed at us a little. He decided that it would be a really, really rainy two weeks in West Virginia.<br />
<br />
The guys were able to get a bit of the work done between storms, but the building has been almost as slow as the approval process.<br />
<br />
The decks, siding, windows and rot repair are not the only things we will do to the exterior of the house. We have quite a few projects planned. Here's the rub: Everything we do to the exterior of the house will need to be approved by the ARC. The thought makes me cringe. I'm trying to be optimistic that now that I know the level of detail they are looking for so I can meet and exceed those expectations for quick(er) approval.<br />
<br />
Unless, of course, they read this rant. In which case we will be blackballed and will face an eternity of the ugly red DENIED stamp.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to be optimistic.<br />
<br />
And if you're from the ARC and reading this, I was totally kidding when I called you my arch nemesis. I really, really like you. Want a hug?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-1921099693557273472013-07-28T23:29:00.000-04:002013-07-28T23:29:03.187-04:00Traveling with a toddlerI'm pretty hesitant to post about mom stuff. I mean, come on, this is my fist time at the rodeo. What do I know? It's all trial and error for me. <br />
<br />
With that said, I'm not sure that having four, six or eight kids would make me feel any closer to being an expert. (That's totally not something I want to test out, either.)<br />
<br />
Recently, a few people have commented on my "bravery" in traveling with Little Man when Beau is unavailable to join us. I didn't ever really consider it brave. (Or stupid, or crazy, or inspiring or any other adjectives assigned to our adventures by outsiders.)<br />
<br />
Just this morning we returned home from our weekend in Chicago for my first <a href="http://www.blogher.com/">BlogHer</a> conference. This time I didn't travel solo. My wonderful, sweet, kind mom came with us. Her pseudonym from here on out will be Granny Nanny. (Don't worry, she likes it.) I realized during this most recent trip that traveling with kids can be hard. It doesn't have to be. (And by kids, I mean my one kid. Moms of many, I don't pretend to speak for you.)<br />
<br />
Here are some pieces of advice I have for moms of toddlers who want to travel. I've tested these on planes, trains and automobiles. They work. At least for my kid. I've even tried them out traveling solo with him. I'm still here to write about it. Go figure.<br />
<br />
<strong>1. Accept help</strong><br />
This one is the hardest for me. Just ask my mom. She saw it first hand this weekend. I am fiercely independent. I have an "I can do it" attitude about most things. I fully realized the benefit of accepting help last night when Little Man was asleep on me and I was trying to figure out how to get my backpack down from the overhead and put it on without waking the sweet baby. Mom was further back on the plane, so I was going to have to do this on my own. (Yes, I realize I could have waited for her to get up to us. I didn't think about it at the time.) The sweet grandfather who shared our row of seating offered to get my backpack for me. Instantly I felt less stressed. He was also sweet enough to offer to carry my bags off, but that seemed like overkill given my proneness to fierce independence. I'm a work in progress, what can I say.<br />
<br />
Likewise, I've had strangers offer to help carry the stroller down stairs where a ramp wasn't available. Doors are often held for us. These gestures are so, so helpful. <br />
<br />
Say thank you. Profusely and sincerely.<br />
<br />
And if you refuse help, do so politely as well. Don't be the one to make the person offering not want to help another solo mom some other time. <br />
<br />
<strong>2. Don't expect help</strong><br />
People will help. Probably. Except for when they don't. Don't count on it, and don't expect it. Formulate a plan that you can manage on your own. That means you should have the means to carry all of your luggage and manage your child at the same time. When we flew to San Diego, Beau's company booked his flight and because of logistical difficulties, Beau had to book us on a different flight. Little Man and I flew across country on our own. The most difficult part of that was that I carried his car seat with me because we rented a car and I didn't want to rent a sub par seat (tried that once, wasn't impressed) and I didn't want to check his seat (the abuse that luggage takes can damage a seat and compromise your baby's safety). This meant that I had to traverse the airport in Detroit with a baby, a car seat, and a diaper bag. I erroneously didn't want to deal with a stroller in the airport, so I didn't bring one. There was no nice grandfather on his way to visit his grand kids to help me in this case. There were a lot of people in a hurry to get where they needed to be. I was just another ant (albeit a baby wearing ant) in a maze of other ants. <br />
<br />
Instead of expecting help, I prepared to make the plane change on my own. I wore Little Man on my chest in his Baby Bjorn and made sure that I could balance his jumbo car seat on my hip and still walk a good distance at a solid clip. It would have been nice to have had help, but I didn't <em>need</em> it. We made our connection with enough time to grab a sandwich and have a college age couple comment on my car seat/baby carrying guns. <br />
<br />
<strong>3. Prepare, but don't over pack</strong><br />
When I travel alone I bring extras. I have "just in case" stuff. A just in case magazine or two. My laptop- just in case I want to write. A water bottle just in case I want to fill it up after getting through security. Et cetera. You get it. When traveling with a person who doesn't contribute anything to the experience (aka your offspring), you get to play Sherpa. It ain't as fun as it sounds. Know how many diapers your little one will use, and then plan on bringing just a few more. (I know, mom, I over-packed diapers this trip...) Know which small toys and books will amuse your little one and just pack those. If your little person is as <strike>nosy</strike> curious as mine, you won't need many toys. The airport should be stimulation enough. And on the plane, Little Man could have played with the shade and little lap-table-thing for days. Know your child well enough to know what amuses him or her. A new toy? Get one. Can't survive without his or her lovie? Pack it.<br />
<br />
Even if you aren't flying and the amount of luggage is a non issue, remember, you'll have to carry it, load/unload it, and pack/unpack/repack/unpack it. Bring what you need plus a little extra and call it a day. Do keep in mind that if you don't bring an extra outfit or two there will be a poop explosion or something equally messy and stinky. Preparedness is not synonymous with over packing. Know the difference. <br />
<br />
<strong>4. Give yourself more time that you think you could possibly need</strong><br />
This last trip, mom and I could have booked a connection that would have gotten us back to Richmond earlier. The layover would have been less than an hour, though. I wasn't keen on the idea of changing planes with a toddler in Atlanta with less than an hour between flights. We probably could have made it, but it would have been tight and I would have been stressed. Be aware of layover times, the size of the airport you'll be changing planes in, and any customs requirements when booking your flight. Plan according to your needs.<br />
<br />
Similarly, plan to get to the airport earlier than necessary to get through security. On both legs of this trip I got pulled aside to have my bag searched. While it is perfectly within <a href="http://www.tsa.gov/traveler-information/traveling-children">FAA regulations</a> to bring as much food or liquid as is reasonable, my bags got flagged and the food packets got pulled out and the bag rescreened. Likewise, it takes a few minutes to take care of strollers and seats, get the little one situated back in the seat or sling, put shoes back on, etc. It is much easier if there is no real rush.<br />
<br />
Little Man and I have made two road trips to West Virginia when Beau's work schedule didn't allow us to join him. The drive itself is a pretty straightforward five hour drive. I <em>never</em> plan it taking five hours. I know that we will stop at least once for a nice stretch, meal and diaper change. We'll play for a little bit and I'll let him expend some energy. I never know how long this will take and I have learned not to begrudge it. Giving him time to recover from being strapped in a seat for a lengthy period makes the rest of the trip go by smoothly. Be aware and considerate of your little person's energy level.(Because if you aren't you--and possibly the other 100+ people on a plane--will suffer through the ramifications of a baby who has too much energy and nowhere to go.)<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>5. Always pack food</strong><br />
Even if I'm driving an hour to see family, I pack food. It may just be a small baggie of crackers and a sippy cup, but it is food nonetheless. Sometimes that hour turns into two plus hours because of traffic. Sometimes a 45 minute flight sits on a tarmac for two hours. Sometimes the food/beverage cart on the train is out of food your baby can/will eat. Those packed snacks can often keep a meltdown from happening.<br />
<br />
And that is <em>very</em> good.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>6. Be flexible</strong><br />
Travel is stressful. Babies and toddlers are stressful. The two of them together could very easily be a stress cocktail. Don't let it be. If traffic has you stopped long before you planned your leg-stretch stop, let the traffic dictate your stop instead of your agenda. If your flight is cancelled or your bag is lost, calmly ask the airline personnel how they are going to remedy your situation (and then thank me for reminding you to pack that extra outfit and a few extra diapers). If your baby ALWAYS eats a nutritious and balanced meal at noon but the plane is still ascending, distract him or her with a cracker or whatever you have handy and let your schedule slide for a day. Having goldfish for lunch one day will not have long-term affects on his or her health and wellness. <br />
<br />
Travel is exciting and novel for your baby. It is also overwhelming. Schedules will be thrown off. Routines are out the window. Be ready to adapt to that three hour time change or missed nap. Plan for what you can (i.e. Little Man's inability to go to sleep at a decent hour the day we make the five hour road trip to WV) and be cognizant of the fact that you can't plan for everything (maybe a lost lovie or pacifier). You can only adapt. Be ready to adapt to any number of events.<br />
<br />
I truly believe that babies react to our stress. If you are flexible and calm, your baby will use those cues to formulate his or her reaction to the trip. <br />
<br />
Here's wishing you safe and happy travels.<br />
<br />
What other general travel advice do you have to share?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-14186968604219178572013-07-23T16:43:00.000-04:002013-07-23T16:43:11.121-04:00Spiced Peach MuffinsIn theory I love peaches. They are so delicious and fresh and sweet. In practice, though, I don't like to eat them because they are a sticky mess. You'd think I could get over it and just give in to the mess and enjoy every sweet, sticky bite. For some reason I can't do that. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDiumHII8r5tp_uSEbHJNZ4k_-0otWc2BO9B4AFR6XIvVbk5ynRKIRYWhRrcG7ZTm43-Y9s1aPYubUhMI6ictlo8s5Cz4IHssUALsjuxzDU-5-jsb0DUnLBEIbAURJuLqeuZQn5ALKwD-I/s1600/Peach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDiumHII8r5tp_uSEbHJNZ4k_-0otWc2BO9B4AFR6XIvVbk5ynRKIRYWhRrcG7ZTm43-Y9s1aPYubUhMI6ictlo8s5Cz4IHssUALsjuxzDU-5-jsb0DUnLBEIbAURJuLqeuZQn5ALKwD-I/s1600/Peach.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Because of this I buy peaches thinking I'm just going to bite into them and eat them, but they sit on the counter in the fruit bowl until they are way ripe and then I put them in the refrigerator until figure out what to do with them. I'm like a less confusing, less annoying, less self-conscious version of<a href="http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/20220"> J. Alfred Prufrock</a>. "Do I dare eat a peach?" No, I daren't. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzWN_CR7nPyVizdvSygtajc5EHTZrkTmOPCCqbX2yGkEN0jN7PNmcHZUhTkE6svClEgm7LIDlhO01gDQSg6wn3mXIotrD9XQ_g7cYzK9eEkUWic358-NyVvsPJNbg7OPpa8gzWGFobQp8/s1600/peaches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzWN_CR7nPyVizdvSygtajc5EHTZrkTmOPCCqbX2yGkEN0jN7PNmcHZUhTkE6svClEgm7LIDlhO01gDQSg6wn3mXIotrD9XQ_g7cYzK9eEkUWic358-NyVvsPJNbg7OPpa8gzWGFobQp8/s320/peaches.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Are you shaking your head at me? I'm shaking my own head at me. Such a disappointment. <br />
<br />
I do realize that peaches can be cut up and eaten that way. Sometimes I do that. When I don't do that, I take those ripe peaches and make these muffins. They almost make my strange peach juice aversion a stroke of genius instead of weirdness. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUydWyBK8Rg0wGjQlphVaq5rb6qnNqPIgwPfNvEKxfgyNY7MSZdVE1uhcsbF4aKOje6aXIyJ928AH4BGtsLIDPPCtJKTZywTxCkfkAD3kAiiCmauqTIYqZvGxyylm4TKzLTjTERngCvJwS/s1600/spiced+peach+muffins+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUydWyBK8Rg0wGjQlphVaq5rb6qnNqPIgwPfNvEKxfgyNY7MSZdVE1uhcsbF4aKOje6aXIyJ928AH4BGtsLIDPPCtJKTZywTxCkfkAD3kAiiCmauqTIYqZvGxyylm4TKzLTjTERngCvJwS/s320/spiced+peach+muffins+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqsMtlDMrTnHv_uq3wl7SsnVtMgxuOoW-U3vRy3cHyaNSf7BF-cCNxScIr4d0RnqfJafFf_IwfEaH8gvumpz4ttxMu0jlJ4Lu-DUHP1aeDpT5mf9aJcCj8SpNx-NkCO4YD99cofalNc74/s1600/diced+peaches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqsMtlDMrTnHv_uq3wl7SsnVtMgxuOoW-U3vRy3cHyaNSf7BF-cCNxScIr4d0RnqfJafFf_IwfEaH8gvumpz4ttxMu0jlJ4Lu-DUHP1aeDpT5mf9aJcCj8SpNx-NkCO4YD99cofalNc74/s320/diced+peaches.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZTOHoXPxJODHGR4jjgfR23rPlWlBYWkUIAVYZp-w_KjCvqFWwb2qfkZqnphHgYYlIiLQbL0Vq_tMZF7SlegQrOW5kg5nnlsKypTkMfUmVguqhMyrUoNOjiF32wBaXmBvhaq7xXm8_Ikb/s1600/spiced+peach+muffins+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZTOHoXPxJODHGR4jjgfR23rPlWlBYWkUIAVYZp-w_KjCvqFWwb2qfkZqnphHgYYlIiLQbL0Vq_tMZF7SlegQrOW5kg5nnlsKypTkMfUmVguqhMyrUoNOjiF32wBaXmBvhaq7xXm8_Ikb/s320/spiced+peach+muffins+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<strong>Spiced Peach Muffins</strong><br />
adapted from <a href="http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/spiced-peach-muffins-recipe">here</a><br />
<br />
4 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
4 1/2 teaspoons baking soda<br />
2 cups brown sugar<br />
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg<br />
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon<br />
2 eggs<br />
3/4 cups coconut oil warmed to liquid<br />
1 1/4 cups milk<br />
4 peaches peeled and diced (about 3 cups)<br />
rock sugar<br />
<br />
Combine the dry ingredients (except the rock sugar) in a large bowl. Stir in the eggs, coconut oil, milk. Add the peaches and gently stir. Fill cupcake wrappers or greased muffin tins with batter. Fill to the top, these a pretty dense and won't rise a whole lot. Sprinkle with small pieces of rock sugar. If you don't have that on hand, granulated sugar is fine.<br />
<br />
Bake at 400 degrees F for 25 to 30 minutes. <br />
<br />
Makes 16 muffins. Give some away or you will eat more than you should. <br />
<br />
They are especially dangerous hot, sliced open with a small pat of butter melting on the steamy warm insides. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigH6u99pp1hI4qytmxkebeyjlUrHRzKTDHJtbLDaqYwzFe4ztTJ8Jm0gMMm-rmylXDg_y4qo3_X7j5jUq7q6PdnT4SORomEo9xa9VXCB0Mbjfvz12J0NW3RSnJbosm65rNckETD-9UD9wc/s1600/spiced+peach+muffins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigH6u99pp1hI4qytmxkebeyjlUrHRzKTDHJtbLDaqYwzFe4ztTJ8Jm0gMMm-rmylXDg_y4qo3_X7j5jUq7q6PdnT4SORomEo9xa9VXCB0Mbjfvz12J0NW3RSnJbosm65rNckETD-9UD9wc/s320/spiced+peach+muffins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I think these would be wonderful with nearly any fruit you need to use up. <br />
<br />
I also don't eat ribs or corn on the cob in public. (But will tear them up in private...) Please tell me there are other people like me out there. Anybody? Hello?<br />
<br />
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-81279655618276730862013-07-19T23:15:00.000-04:002013-07-19T23:15:20.651-04:00California love: San Diego editionFinally! I harassed Beau enough to convince him that we NEEDED to make a pilgrimage back to my homeland, Southern California. <br />
<br />
Somehow, my BFF in the whole wide world had never meet my son or my husband. (And by "somehow" I of course mean that we have billions of miles separating us. OK, not <em>billions</em>. I do have a basic grasp of geography. But it sure does feel like billions most days.) It was definitely time to get out there to visit. Fortunately, Beau had a class in San Diego, so Little Man and I simply tagged along. <br />
<br />
We spent a few days there in sunny, perfect San Diego and then ventured into Orange County and even made it up into Hollywood long enough for a meal and a drink with one of Beau's childhood friends. And some classic L.A. traffic on the way back. Perhaps I don't miss <em>everything </em>about California.<br />
<br />
Because I could (and probably will) wax poetic about California for far, far too long, I will probably break our vacation into a few posts. Because everyone needs to see all of my photos.<br />
<br />
Oh, crikey, this is the modern-day equivalent to the family photo slide show. Geesh. I'm sorry. (But really I'm not.)<br />
<br />
Beau had been to San Diego before, but he hadn't been to <em>my</em> San Diego. I wanted desperately for him to see it through my very rose colored glasses. Obviously, there are about a gazillion things to do there, but when I'm the tour guide, there are a few places that are a little off the normal list of tourist spots. If we had more time we might have gone to the zoo or Hotel Del Coronado, but time was short and I had to revisit some very special places.<br />
<br />
See, I lived in San Diego for the four years I was in college. It was an amazing time and because I enjoyed my college years so much, San Diego will forever be a favorite place in the world to me. One of our very first stops was to my Alma Mater, the University of San Diego. It is, in my humble opinion, one of the most stunning college campuses in existence. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_q9QefZJeXdv0dJOZIzSl3UG0_522FtEw9TyCDricLNCmr1QF1oAKOaoWXXMuLhHkwO3F8UDauWQVhdspKtBmb4U8AIj9rFgXpUjAz6LRe-FLjzKOjQBVeLRUkchj56R61_-E2QV2-7ls/s1600/University+of+San+Diego+Imaculata.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_q9QefZJeXdv0dJOZIzSl3UG0_522FtEw9TyCDricLNCmr1QF1oAKOaoWXXMuLhHkwO3F8UDauWQVhdspKtBmb4U8AIj9rFgXpUjAz6LRe-FLjzKOjQBVeLRUkchj56R61_-E2QV2-7ls/s320/University+of+San+Diego+Imaculata.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXuRW1lN9Yecjp3l0jY_xLqKq1ix61gE-AstT-UxOx8bFn54Ph2-Y6dlZXayNb5FCgbmyfXe5XlaFpLxM_PjA4XB_4Xt3BgJbsIcogvdD-xPbtmyAKe7F_Esi8XrK7AsI_DYAbG6Odc-Q/s1600/University+of+San+Diego.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfXuRW1lN9Yecjp3l0jY_xLqKq1ix61gE-AstT-UxOx8bFn54Ph2-Y6dlZXayNb5FCgbmyfXe5XlaFpLxM_PjA4XB_4Xt3BgJbsIcogvdD-xPbtmyAKe7F_Esi8XrK7AsI_DYAbG6Odc-Q/s320/University+of+San+Diego.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Nearby is the equally stunning Balboa Park. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxZHpqnPMFKO4vDpmrNk4wU840-aL6ffBuIDMRevorbRDe4BoCG2FpYBKtULihxj04qHEkHQdSvWKOUtO38ahWOOpZ2Jz7wckYsjTgr5SEGqZ4cH1dT6aXJvK4Sa_qGb9PXLoOReaPDsO/s1600/Balboa+Park.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxZHpqnPMFKO4vDpmrNk4wU840-aL6ffBuIDMRevorbRDe4BoCG2FpYBKtULihxj04qHEkHQdSvWKOUtO38ahWOOpZ2Jz7wckYsjTgr5SEGqZ4cH1dT6aXJvK4Sa_qGb9PXLoOReaPDsO/s320/Balboa+Park.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZgD8bmAkN3aQ7TCUGYb4gskGXUyX8Nzszt8BEEVl_SRTld04HKBZpI1_W57JP-VEe0fIVSGxKDfEJsOudlo6aAVTN0oRDERC7aYTpErwbu_CL7x2rNdA5dBfRqb_WkTM2tEGxIy9gWzI/s1600/Balboa+Park+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZgD8bmAkN3aQ7TCUGYb4gskGXUyX8Nzszt8BEEVl_SRTld04HKBZpI1_W57JP-VEe0fIVSGxKDfEJsOudlo6aAVTN0oRDERC7aYTpErwbu_CL7x2rNdA5dBfRqb_WkTM2tEGxIy9gWzI/s320/Balboa+Park+3.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
We wandered around there, had a nice iced mocha at the pond and then stumbled upon this exhibit. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY5Wz62Oyz8ILsh0TSWrvJWwkUZG7kD0t8uIADEjHrxJtb_AQ3MKSVfwDnLDpAZgS_um9sGZWpC8jkGXWsTuNwQKAXybjH4rpHBptdSnBWrXMrXiFcQ1NTN-OsKMmKgPrPNn7hzy1g61g/s1600/Balboa+Park+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY5Wz62Oyz8ILsh0TSWrvJWwkUZG7kD0t8uIADEjHrxJtb_AQ3MKSVfwDnLDpAZgS_um9sGZWpC8jkGXWsTuNwQKAXybjH4rpHBptdSnBWrXMrXiFcQ1NTN-OsKMmKgPrPNn7hzy1g61g/s320/Balboa+Park+2.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Beau was <em>very</em> intrigued. Until he realized it didn't involve samples. So, we skipped it, went along to the rose garden and then grabbed a bite.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReTiVkL9oLgTK5Nc3kMbtFMKv71zWe0BXrGNBz8LdKhvLFGtDcJyJC80TIZakVjQ9s2F-pf0Rfp1wCQXujl73Bm7moXA1I_t_kly5if31x4LWgZhgMWF0M321yErUcpN45wF4PeQaolLL/s1600/Balboa+Park+Rose+Garden.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReTiVkL9oLgTK5Nc3kMbtFMKv71zWe0BXrGNBz8LdKhvLFGtDcJyJC80TIZakVjQ9s2F-pf0Rfp1wCQXujl73Bm7moXA1I_t_kly5if31x4LWgZhgMWF0M321yErUcpN45wF4PeQaolLL/s320/Balboa+Park+Rose+Garden.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvkr7Lyx87wOaMrqgU5ug4E8qec2pBXImtoAqRZXaoAmRMKO_vsR4umPdNQ7h-i4EnEZS-1DHwUuxoWlGG160-_8oo_IKE5vD7FDGYxI97L06-DmZ71K-mICeDk-NQoc9amieG_rA-Tt57/s1600/In+N+Out+Burger.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvkr7Lyx87wOaMrqgU5ug4E8qec2pBXImtoAqRZXaoAmRMKO_vsR4umPdNQ7h-i4EnEZS-1DHwUuxoWlGG160-_8oo_IKE5vD7FDGYxI97L06-DmZ71K-mICeDk-NQoc9amieG_rA-Tt57/s320/In+N+Out+Burger.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'm supposed to be completely honest with you guys. I <em>should</em> fully disclose that I might have had In-n-Out for two meals that first day, but I am too embarassed. I don't think I'm capable of adding numbers as high as that calorie count would be! <br />
<br />
We stayed at the Sheraton San Diego Harbor and Marina and while Beau was attending his second day of classes, Little Man and I took walks, played in the pool and made plans for our adventures that night. Exercise never looked so good, huh?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopYbnXIfR_PBAPiKPde_NUJvmYKKVyluGyOm9ygsByKyxvMAiMnYblOHcUXbNBiDSiuJbFJM9iPJuXQQKcjP7xyC8rRiodHHdt1LOOV4QFAE0_lYuYXmVKjO4KXCxTwStfagY6Jr62ZGw/s1600/San+Diego.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopYbnXIfR_PBAPiKPde_NUJvmYKKVyluGyOm9ygsByKyxvMAiMnYblOHcUXbNBiDSiuJbFJM9iPJuXQQKcjP7xyC8rRiodHHdt1LOOV4QFAE0_lYuYXmVKjO4KXCxTwStfagY6Jr62ZGw/s320/San+Diego.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P5Tr8-vCrlE/Uen7hJdwrII/AAAAAAAACt0/AU-v4s4tb-w/s1600/IMG_2205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P5Tr8-vCrlE/Uen7hJdwrII/AAAAAAAACt0/AU-v4s4tb-w/s320/IMG_2205.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Long, long ago, I did my student teaching in La Jolla at Muirlands Middle School. While I didn't take Beau to the school to show him my ocean view classroom, I did think it important to show him the seals at La Jolla Cove. (On a semi-related note, who gives a student teacher a classroom with an ocean view? That just seems mean since my first two years of teaching were spent in classrooms that didn't even have windows that I could see out of. Lets just say after my short stint in La Jolla my expections were a little bit high.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5_NecIuU7g4AuxlbzGz4hq8mweWwJRQmT0vrC7qxQSeKXtFPnNDrAzxObjPxRBRvlF4irC_oXDUKTp1Zs3ZXcb5-ez0_Sm519o538zX60HVrZcL5wOnJ6BGYKhNg5TfevY6lVwlty8ux/s1600/La+Jolla.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5_NecIuU7g4AuxlbzGz4hq8mweWwJRQmT0vrC7qxQSeKXtFPnNDrAzxObjPxRBRvlF4irC_oXDUKTp1Zs3ZXcb5-ez0_Sm519o538zX60HVrZcL5wOnJ6BGYKhNg5TfevY6lVwlty8ux/s320/La+Jolla.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-435FxA0eclA/Uen7oKbg6YI/AAAAAAAACt8/e1jBmmVBDis/s1600/La+Jolla+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-435FxA0eclA/Uen7oKbg6YI/AAAAAAAACt8/e1jBmmVBDis/s320/La+Jolla+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6DEvkaKr2Q/Uen75VqZRvI/AAAAAAAACuE/zt80_3moxi8/s1600/La+Jolla+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6DEvkaKr2Q/Uen75VqZRvI/AAAAAAAACuE/zt80_3moxi8/s320/La+Jolla+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Little Man loved the ocean breeze and didn't really understand that the brown lumps down on the beach were really cool living animals. Whadda expect? He's one!<br />
<br />
Since it was prime traffic time when we left La Jolla, we decided to drive down the coast. One of my favorite things to do when in crazy expensive neighborhoods like that is to have my Zillow ap open and check out the houses that are for sale. (Don't worry, I wasn't driving...) Holy moly are there some crazy expensive and beautiful houses on the California coast. While playing starnge voyeur/co-pilot, I planned a route that would take us past the Wahoo's Fish Tacos in Mission Bay. (I blogged about Wahoo's once before <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2011/08/baja-fish-tacos.html">here</a>.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3svsK_JK3V_7RrRIM0RrBAf-UELPB9aqd6-FTWOJk06nwYqTXRW2WElgQqN-D-IfpMYbw1GZoLNMiyf5F5MPhDYJzCTwi-P1OebSw4j1L3p-50xg_w-oSt8nBtvnRblPad7Zye5wH_hp/s1600/wahoos+fish+tacos.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3svsK_JK3V_7RrRIM0RrBAf-UELPB9aqd6-FTWOJk06nwYqTXRW2WElgQqN-D-IfpMYbw1GZoLNMiyf5F5MPhDYJzCTwi-P1OebSw4j1L3p-50xg_w-oSt8nBtvnRblPad7Zye5wH_hp/s320/wahoos+fish+tacos.bmp" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ddkafR_QX_g/Uen8DnKaBBI/AAAAAAAACuM/8dohJJrL5I4/s1600/Wahoos.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ddkafR_QX_g/Uen8DnKaBBI/AAAAAAAACuM/8dohJJrL5I4/s320/Wahoos.bmp" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Beau and Little Man were pretty happy with the fish tacos and I was in memory-lane-heaven. So, so, so good.<br />
<br />
The next day Beau had his class in Long Beach, another place I called home for a happy period of time. I met him up there and my OC portion of the trip began. (Beau had one more day of class in SD.)<br />
<br />
Orange County adventures are coming soon, but what are your must-sees in the San Diego vicinity? Have you been? If not, seriously, get there. <br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-79758223653229950622013-07-06T23:05:00.000-04:002013-07-06T23:05:00.046-04:00Deck design<br />
This week I designed the three decks that will be built on the back of the West Virginia house. If you know me at all, you know I am not a designer, artist, architect, builder or any such person who would be remotely capable of designing a deck. <br />
<br />
But, we live in the age of the Internet and frankly, a person can do nearly anything from the 'net. Don't believe me? Want to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZp_q_7IExA">start a fire with an orange</a>? Make a <a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Make-a-Canadian-Flag-Cake">Canadian flag cake</a>? Speak <a href="http://www.kli.org/">Klingon</a>? No? Me either.<br />
<br />
However, there are some very useful tidbits on the 'net other that cute/funny cat videos. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/SUNmLuNdiL8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A few weeks ago I shared our deck woes <a href="http://www.croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/06/may-updatein-june-dont-judge.html">here</a>. Our work had to stop because of certain requirements that the Architectural Review Committee has. One of those requirements is a professional drawing of the structure to be erected--like this:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5ZP-ONpIj-7YceEjaxA8_1byah9E2-mVftVcKtxLPMnIVnFO0AC3jL09WjE7n-zxSwlRu4Wxy6j1_bxMSErqu1mFUKFhkJBmoS3gZcnmWbNe5MDssnVJzE__bH_Vw-p_IjNwgl0yDcL2/s1600/Deck+Design+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5ZP-ONpIj-7YceEjaxA8_1byah9E2-mVftVcKtxLPMnIVnFO0AC3jL09WjE7n-zxSwlRu4Wxy6j1_bxMSErqu1mFUKFhkJBmoS3gZcnmWbNe5MDssnVJzE__bH_Vw-p_IjNwgl0yDcL2/s320/Deck+Design+1.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now, we are simply replacing- beam for beam, joist for joist, board for board- what was already there. It is the builders equivalent of a paint by numbers deck. At first we didn't think anything would be needed. Our thinking was that it had been approved once, so why do it again? </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We thought wrong.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And despite a completely competent contractor who has built a gazillion decks, his sketch was not professional enough for the ARC.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When they rejected our contractor's drawing I thought we were in for a world of hurt. I thought for sure we were going to be held up for a seriously long time waiting on a really expensive architect to draw what Stuart already knew he was building. It turns out that Lowes has an online <a href="http://www.lowes.com/cd_Deck+Designer+Planner_733683095_?rpp=32&UserSearch=deck+designer">Deck Designer</a> that anyone can use (for free!) to get professionally laid out plans. It is incredibly easy to use. Any <strike>idiot</strike> blonde can do it. It is just a series of clicks on icons. Once I worked through the first level, it became ridiculously easy and fast. I think I whipped out the top (larger) deck in less than five minutes.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The program works the "designer" through the process in a clearly organized and explained series of building options. Some of the choices, like the shape of the deck, were easy because we are basically just rebuilding what was already there. </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3YD8U4hEH54ybfeo2OtAMiPpVclKfpEJutNpLCbTszStjCyK2PO-MkMDQ1LWabfJUaDMIWproki5nKlilUH3oym-KKY9Pg0wGnqWCzr8pl1hsGr4d2od1vuYDsX0Pz-pZAz_HP9BwziJ0/s1600/Deck+Designer+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3YD8U4hEH54ybfeo2OtAMiPpVclKfpEJutNpLCbTszStjCyK2PO-MkMDQ1LWabfJUaDMIWproki5nKlilUH3oym-KKY9Pg0wGnqWCzr8pl1hsGr4d2od1vuYDsX0Pz-pZAz_HP9BwziJ0/s320/Deck+Designer+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Other choices were really easy because, well, there was only one icon to click on. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HJXUnelRw4VspSS9SWuPrhPcQZTA1Ro-Zx4YMHZQXtATzl3cMpYzgfnIT-ekDOsJPlqL2ZhuDTqEm0JSQysZ0zvGI89oCaaI5JVbUkw5oTo0G61I5-q18UBXFRlOq7TpCA6c5zcutfSp/s1600/Deck+Designer+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HJXUnelRw4VspSS9SWuPrhPcQZTA1Ro-Zx4YMHZQXtATzl3cMpYzgfnIT-ekDOsJPlqL2ZhuDTqEm0JSQysZ0zvGI89oCaaI5JVbUkw5oTo0G61I5-q18UBXFRlOq7TpCA6c5zcutfSp/s320/Deck+Designer+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Why does this section even exist?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And then there were options that I didn't have a clue about, even with Stuart's original drawing. Seriously, there are options when it comes to pickets in the railings? Who knew?</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmSaljyo3g34_8VmcWYbJ3P-pbiqXU3pt7fti3_BGg36y42u9yarlHppYH0Ujo5N1vl96ToqjJ6um8su7TeUEqj5ni8qPVt5RpF5XKSArZYNExP3zTgh1IEnItQ4JHcj4iRO-kmk_pHvC/s1600/Deck+Designer+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmSaljyo3g34_8VmcWYbJ3P-pbiqXU3pt7fti3_BGg36y42u9yarlHppYH0Ujo5N1vl96ToqjJ6um8su7TeUEqj5ni8qPVt5RpF5XKSArZYNExP3zTgh1IEnItQ4JHcj4iRO-kmk_pHvC/s320/Deck+Designer+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Fortunately in addition to Stuart's drawing, I also had access to him via Facebook chat. (That poor guy had no idea what he was in for when we became Facebook friends.) With his knowledge of what was actually going to go up and my ability to quickly click on icons, we managed to come up with some pretty professional looking deck plans.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNUWMvhuBGEiyAOBjw03Cvbt_FKW2sco_nwxtbE5G40tFl2KDj01lczSd5K2aHKesCDJ3sHJ3Pwc8eXpMNnb4Df6Gq8p8LNJr_MJOhJxaO8hjwQ9EInjrO7mtgk826Beou5TqrFf85yu6/s1600/Deck+Design+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNUWMvhuBGEiyAOBjw03Cvbt_FKW2sco_nwxtbE5G40tFl2KDj01lczSd5K2aHKesCDJ3sHJ3Pwc8eXpMNnb4Df6Gq8p8LNJr_MJOhJxaO8hjwQ9EInjrO7mtgk826Beou5TqrFf85yu6/s320/Deck+Design+2.jpg" width="307" /></a></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I made that, but I can't tell you how or what it says.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Do you see the irony in that? The builder's design wasn't good enough, but he has technical and practical expertise. Mine -via Lowes- is (hopefully) perfect despite not having one single solitary clue about what I was doing. </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Fortunately for all parties involved, my contribution to the deck building process is limited to this button clicking. I will wield no hammer or nail gun in this project.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am thinking about starting up a deck designing service, though. Oh, wait, I just told you all how easy it is. Foiled again. </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Anyone else out there playing designer for a day? Or, got any cool/cute/odd Internet finds?</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-56328120298483050392013-07-03T23:12:00.000-04:002013-07-03T23:12:01.393-04:00June update, sort ofOk, so I'm a little late with the June update, but there has been a bit of progress in West Virginia. We have done some demolition which is always fun. We are almost to the point where we can start making the middle floor habitable. More on that in a second. <br />
<br />
The big news, though, is that I am currently writing this post <em>from West Virginia</em>. Wait, what? Yeppers, folks. We have wifi and I am a happy camper. You know who else is a happy camper? Andy, our super cool renter who has been reliving the sad, sad days of life pre-Internet for much too long over the past few months. He's pretty thrilled. See, it is quiet here. Like eerily so. Had I not gone up to the village Monday to take care of some stuff and go to Starbucks, I could have easily gone over 24 hours without seeing anyone but my Little Man. He's not the best conversationalist, being one and all. (Reason #4,239,742 that I love Starbucks.)<br />
<br />
Despite the normal solitude up here, this past weekend was not so quiet. This weekend Snowshoe hosted a Grand National Cross Country (GNCC) Racing event. It was decidedly un-quiet. Andy, said super cool and helpful renter, warned me against coming up this weekend. In fact he said he did everything in his power to not have to work this weekend so he could, as I believe he put it, "get out of Dodge". But, since the modem was being delivered and I am a control freak, I wanted to make sure everything was hooked up as needed. Also, because Andy was going to be gone I didn't want the package with the modem sitting out front when ten gazillion people descended upon the mountain like locusts.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdcbgO4u7XKlZingNQDYRYtn7_OSLdZJymhboeLNU1xWwLze40IUNot4-CFD_7CZgxDRumahZ6BVMPUtJQy87X1I0dvTCB0fUJnzUIMAvf7ZuYTGsZ8xJO4dxV41h4E6xoiDo5UVAgXz_/s1600/Snowshoe+GNCC+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdcbgO4u7XKlZingNQDYRYtn7_OSLdZJymhboeLNU1xWwLze40IUNot4-CFD_7CZgxDRumahZ6BVMPUtJQy87X1I0dvTCB0fUJnzUIMAvf7ZuYTGsZ8xJO4dxV41h4E6xoiDo5UVAgXz_/s320/Snowshoe+GNCC+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem)</span><br />
<br />
Come to think of it, from a distance dirt bikes might sound a little bit like locusts descending upon the mountain. <br />
<br />
This is what one end of our road looked like while races were underway. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynSwsUBuGIu_KIOM9vYvwRjDzfLDCTlO5z4E32NVHe3gMgDuGVTonL19J7d3bcP3J8qeo5bM-TedhK51ZhDvzBgQWM3m_pLl5swLAHd7T740x7cdn8p5M6RIQ0OQb93BTbxzyK_5ESD2U/s895/Snowshoe+GNCC+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynSwsUBuGIu_KIOM9vYvwRjDzfLDCTlO5z4E32NVHe3gMgDuGVTonL19J7d3bcP3J8qeo5bM-TedhK51ZhDvzBgQWM3m_pLl5swLAHd7T740x7cdn8p5M6RIQ0OQb93BTbxzyK_5ESD2U/s320/Snowshoe+GNCC+5.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yep, that's the top of the stroller. We were silly enough to walk up to the village to check things out. Walking back entailed being just a few feet from the racing dirt bikes. Needless to say, naptime was cut a little short. (And I had visions of bikes careening into us or rocks flying at us. #notarelaxingwalk)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We got a little closer to our house and realized the street was being crossed by the racers. Hmmm. How does one cross over when one is <em>not</em> on a dirt bike and <em>is </em>pushing a stroller? </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQfTyUA6wb8gjbFMmPq5zE5xN0OLZZDF15Uimp7DB6yePfPOOw9PgLpSxRbq3ycLXPsg2lrdDeFBwb7AJlPO3-ED_7NyDHJggMO0gg-H87bripcocTn70bP7bQd4NHSqaGUrY7lWXzxQD/s1198/Snowshoe+GNCC+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQfTyUA6wb8gjbFMmPq5zE5xN0OLZZDF15Uimp7DB6yePfPOOw9PgLpSxRbq3ycLXPsg2lrdDeFBwb7AJlPO3-ED_7NyDHJggMO0gg-H87bripcocTn70bP7bQd4NHSqaGUrY7lWXzxQD/s320/Snowshoe+GNCC+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
One waits for the perfect moment when there is an appropriately wide gap between riders and one runs like a crazy person. In the meantime, we watched. I thought Little Man would be scared of the noise, but he was absolutely fascinated. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcE_FZ3ILzEu_HkdkIS6lB37lDjoGmMYACdCtjLu868BD8u-gjMV0-00Tgi7I5248_wu_jd1paSDVBi6nk8mvnIFUEJTZrbP4a2YRHeUCxWQ4L-PP6TW6xIYLT-8Aqnngaw4imjdpIlBV/s271/Snowshoe+GNCC+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcE_FZ3ILzEu_HkdkIS6lB37lDjoGmMYACdCtjLu868BD8u-gjMV0-00Tgi7I5248_wu_jd1paSDVBi6nk8mvnIFUEJTZrbP4a2YRHeUCxWQ4L-PP6TW6xIYLT-8Aqnngaw4imjdpIlBV/s271/Snowshoe+GNCC+3.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
That's because he's all boy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgad4lrEW-lhg-cLaf9DLDQmqKqyl4nSgaurFvbnXDpBS8Kfl0i3G2UjWbnPR6GxeMKBY6X6IxqFWKROTN7qBu8uVDD7xfOyTk6SqWHbvzD2IPDBiGrnBLzOFjGkSVUs5f1JkSD-aPo8m9Q/s1600/Snowshoe+GNCC+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgad4lrEW-lhg-cLaf9DLDQmqKqyl4nSgaurFvbnXDpBS8Kfl0i3G2UjWbnPR6GxeMKBY6X6IxqFWKROTN7qBu8uVDD7xfOyTk6SqWHbvzD2IPDBiGrnBLzOFjGkSVUs5f1JkSD-aPo8m9Q/s320/Snowshoe+GNCC+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem.)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As he watched the various races with rapt attention, got muddy, and rolled around, his mom had a vision of what this little person might be like in about sixteen years.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1b94N7u9itg7GYbAwrmM5bZEKt60BFCUJVQCuUsos_fDAiP-wYkjamM8L7bPEa4rklVKw8ZbFpD3iYgrUFskBEu-I-OIPZowMv32OqU_sSNfKhm8b3kXxkUd5zCN37LjKyLcAjmRLHTc/s1600/Snowshoe+GNCC+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1b94N7u9itg7GYbAwrmM5bZEKt60BFCUJVQCuUsos_fDAiP-wYkjamM8L7bPEa4rklVKw8ZbFpD3iYgrUFskBEu-I-OIPZowMv32OqU_sSNfKhm8b3kXxkUd5zCN37LjKyLcAjmRLHTc/s320/Snowshoe+GNCC+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And while it might be creepy that I have a photo of two random strangers on my blog, I seriously think that the blond boy on the quad is giving me a brief glimpse into my future. It makes me want to cry. Not because he's dirty and someone has to wash those clothes. And not because what he's doing is dangerous and scary. Because I bet his mom looked at him when he was one and getting mud on the knees of his Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls, blinked, and opened her eyes to this grown person. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sigh. Look at me getting all mushy.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Anyway, if Little Man wants to forgo the dirt bike and quad riding and become, say, an artist, I've got material for him on the very same mountain. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33dIu60dQbd7pLDl-1kobHD6yd8y8e6bWOXTq_Okqvz9GusurOuRDRH_z3Pbunx8UHMNHJHHkzGAcLQKnVvWIpJW8pNzNTClR0B7ijWaaxjFXpP5WXoS2fyGssW0fJt9qsEhbcpMa-mQs/s1198/Low+Fog+Over+Alleghney+Mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33dIu60dQbd7pLDl-1kobHD6yd8y8e6bWOXTq_Okqvz9GusurOuRDRH_z3Pbunx8UHMNHJHHkzGAcLQKnVvWIpJW8pNzNTClR0B7ijWaaxjFXpP5WXoS2fyGssW0fJt9qsEhbcpMa-mQs/s320/Low+Fog+Over+Alleghney+Mountains.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Even with the distant buzz of locust dirt bikes, there is serenity in this sunrise. (I know, I know, the transition between the boy on the bike and the sunrise probably needs work. I just wanted to show you guys how cool the low-lying morning fog looks and let you know that even though the mountain was crawling with locust-people, it is incredibly beautiful.)<br />
<br />
Ok, enough of outside, I told you there was demolition done. <br />
<br />
This actually took place in May. The only work I did this weekend was some spackling, sanding and color testing. And I didn't take photos. And I told you I was writing this from WV (where I could just snap a photo), but that was yesterday when I started writing and now it is today when I am finishing. Forgive me.<br />
<br />
But lets go back to our May demo. Remember the rooms with the stinky carpet?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2LBXUunCqRi3bS666zsbfE5zPxRjeZVJ-g0ljAqpUkh40F-fBWvK0g2YdjVXNzMNfp7nI7GpCt8dyUSdb438XjbdAGezjMOR4D5t7DBCAwc4gq0zjyri84qqY_PPcCoF4uWIIKh3B079/s895/Stinky+Carpet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2LBXUunCqRi3bS666zsbfE5zPxRjeZVJ-g0ljAqpUkh40F-fBWvK0g2YdjVXNzMNfp7nI7GpCt8dyUSdb438XjbdAGezjMOR4D5t7DBCAwc4gq0zjyri84qqY_PPcCoF4uWIIKh3B079/s320/Stinky+Carpet.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbrr9knJsVxZoFH76j_o4lw-oJkbAMbbjuSv7S2bPD6aEy7rUP69OG6czyTX5XRpIQGujlSCYUERhAgKmHQR7L1c65gxmNc1mQcmH2H-vivTmWkE87e2wLuPXElbo93VohQrg_ub-Eh0j/s895/Stinky+Carpet+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbrr9knJsVxZoFH76j_o4lw-oJkbAMbbjuSv7S2bPD6aEy7rUP69OG6czyTX5XRpIQGujlSCYUERhAgKmHQR7L1c65gxmNc1mQcmH2H-vivTmWkE87e2wLuPXElbo93VohQrg_ub-Eh0j/s320/Stinky+Carpet+2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It is gone. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdyKKrjknDQPSq13lj5DATXryeItlhPyaGMTl8tpVCk4EBrZgqEStHzf4qwVWxtYbjV1Yn5jwWvIBimALuwGf_wgEz0FQlJxz3U4f1DH9lK_oQ6FZKsLeoP7TWAU3VIgKtCVhRYy9n61Wr/s1600/13+-+10" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdyKKrjknDQPSq13lj5DATXryeItlhPyaGMTl8tpVCk4EBrZgqEStHzf4qwVWxtYbjV1Yn5jwWvIBimALuwGf_wgEz0FQlJxz3U4f1DH9lK_oQ6FZKsLeoP7TWAU3VIgKtCVhRYy9n61Wr/s320/13+-+10" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
And for good measure, we pulled up the little bit of hardwood in the hallway.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrh5LO_LUWWvtdGWLWgIKqvQQnAgGs3Imz6MFwddzIKvnYNiLM8m544OCl61ZJextRIL3cPXUEnxInG-pa4T4R6OSjNFqDsuF9sQ0aqwCgBp29kxhzGJ9nti-ZPP6gKI2SQQJ3AqVc97n3/s895/Hallway+subfloor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrh5LO_LUWWvtdGWLWgIKqvQQnAgGs3Imz6MFwddzIKvnYNiLM8m544OCl61ZJextRIL3cPXUEnxInG-pa4T4R6OSjNFqDsuF9sQ0aqwCgBp29kxhzGJ9nti-ZPP6gKI2SQQJ3AqVc97n3/s320/Hallway+subfloor.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Why, you ask? Well, now we have a blank slate upon which to put a lovely new floor! I'm super excited to get busy painting and putting in floors. Someday in the relatively near future we might actually be able to sleep in a bedroom instead of in the middle of the living room. (But don't get too excited, there is a ton of work to do to get us to flooring instillation. Boo hiss.)<br />
<br />
Jealous of our current set up? You should be. Its bleakness made Betsy cry. Yep. It's that bad. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-78446844389485998522013-06-27T23:45:00.001-04:002013-06-27T23:45:58.950-04:00Aunt Betsy, tear down this wallThe weekend of <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/06/first-birthday-party.html">Little Man's birthday party</a>, one of Beau's sisters came to town to check out our <strike>money pit</strike> West Virginia house, cuddle our little love bug, celebrate a huge milestone birthday, and visit with her favorite brother and sister-in-law. <br />
<br />
Little did Betsy know, we'd put her to work. Her visit with us, though not relaxing on her part, was incredibly helpful to us on so many levels. While Beau and I were<a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/06/may-updatein-june-dont-judge.html"> staining the siding</a>, she took Little Man on long walks to check out the wildlife and get him away from the fumes. She was also so, so, so incredibly helpful getting ready for Little Man's party. (She got to use the helium tank to blow up the balloons, among many other jobs! We sure do know how to spoil a gal.)<br />
<br />
She also got to try her hand at demolition.<br />
<br />
I think it was a first for her.<br />
<br />
And I definitely think she liked it!<br />
<br />
From far away, the stone fireplace looks to be the only redeeming item in the living room. (The bed was the old owner's bed. It has since moved to its new home.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkUSy-iDTF6xSirVRT3d6RYOo5D12EPL3LNSJzfsKtRuq_1az-6NUH2RoO0_Vx2KsFRbzOvQdHAJ78jgwbq7mMew3g9zSpbUMwArkaWQfkgpYQvRR-pIbfZV58GC9ynqk7V-5PLUSlWC85/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkUSy-iDTF6xSirVRT3d6RYOo5D12EPL3LNSJzfsKtRuq_1az-6NUH2RoO0_Vx2KsFRbzOvQdHAJ78jgwbq7mMew3g9zSpbUMwArkaWQfkgpYQvRR-pIbfZV58GC9ynqk7V-5PLUSlWC85/s320/Fireplace+demolition+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
In reality, though, the wall was poorly installed. (I really should have taken close-up pictures, but you can see the gap between the wall and the rock. Up close you can see the board beneath the stone through that gap. It looks like it was just never properly finished. I think that will be a recurring theme with this house.)<br />
<br />
Another deciding factor is that we really want to have a wood burning stove in the house to help heat it in the winter. This fireplace is a gas stove that is really just there for aesthetics rather than heat. Plus, is just doesn't look safe. <br />
<br />
I also think Beau probably just wanted to tear down a wall. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6HuhI3XJAJgafiP2zfuNFbTmWAwlpwxCWF2suNzpLCV0S_Tjk1tAQH4alE0M_-4LAZagh1Al3ngELOKsv9vtM5ZhmlGJAPU6ZaGTMNNnSexWGR1AEVV-1nyFJomYlZW7aaEQ9clZiNtm/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6HuhI3XJAJgafiP2zfuNFbTmWAwlpwxCWF2suNzpLCV0S_Tjk1tAQH4alE0M_-4LAZagh1Al3ngELOKsv9vtM5ZhmlGJAPU6ZaGTMNNnSexWGR1AEVV-1nyFJomYlZW7aaEQ9clZiNtm/s320/Fireplace+demolition+2.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Betsy and I took a trip up the mountain to Starbucks and when we returned Beau had done a number on the stone. While he took Little Man down the mountain, she and I tried to finish up the removal and dumped the stone in the dumpster. We then started removing screws. When the wall was built, it was framed, plywood was installed over the framing, and wire mesh was screwed in to the plywood. With little exaggeration, I can say nearly a million screws were used. The mesh then held the mortar and stone. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5ZBEiFCrdCX_5e_VtSbE0-pleqLPWh9PBs75vrVacMzbWZSDuyOA9soXZLbtxvldEtlw7oj7D-kQxmXQ_XBXDqgE0b3jkCz6m7joWuglKhZE-31z8wzyuDnkU6CNcLIE_dzhu3Jqlv28/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5ZBEiFCrdCX_5e_VtSbE0-pleqLPWh9PBs75vrVacMzbWZSDuyOA9soXZLbtxvldEtlw7oj7D-kQxmXQ_XBXDqgE0b3jkCz6m7joWuglKhZE-31z8wzyuDnkU6CNcLIE_dzhu3Jqlv28/s320/Fireplace+demolition+3.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzw6o3EiKTiYeTgnx5ePI6I8s6tgCd8Ce9kFHe1eDG7LXyL81LNyfpnj4W_5l_r6AsIFaNurGnmTWwlT_LE1cLNtTO1fceQSzMpAaRw98OeqMduQeH14kv1qAS4G_uWn85UW7DNngPScKp/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzw6o3EiKTiYeTgnx5ePI6I8s6tgCd8Ce9kFHe1eDG7LXyL81LNyfpnj4W_5l_r6AsIFaNurGnmTWwlT_LE1cLNtTO1fceQSzMpAaRw98OeqMduQeH14kv1qAS4G_uWn85UW7DNngPScKp/s320/Fireplace+demolition+7.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavk0Z9Q3y-KXAqyoYpYHOiKY0VHtmx881Jqo0xmBQJHNPRXhNcHbCkoSpWYHqmJHQgDZM9G_yH2-YhyphenhyphenoylEy40YaevrSMPbihQZepPkkiU5lQtElb6z81ZXMEwcoznSs3epKZKXlrHyNP/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavk0Z9Q3y-KXAqyoYpYHOiKY0VHtmx881Jqo0xmBQJHNPRXhNcHbCkoSpWYHqmJHQgDZM9G_yH2-YhyphenhyphenoylEy40YaevrSMPbihQZepPkkiU5lQtElb6z81ZXMEwcoznSs3epKZKXlrHyNP/s320/Fireplace+demolition+8.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wjnWAbxFmBFwz4xM1h4zTpbfHEh4DPP7LgM6TJQozu4r0d95092L_p0h9B5mD2ULLXzYmY_RWjuhi7tItcNn5x8uO_hreQriXZVepEIjv5Gq15QDA6bAI340uJ0RkGw-kLJ5BKcfdbPm/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wjnWAbxFmBFwz4xM1h4zTpbfHEh4DPP7LgM6TJQozu4r0d95092L_p0h9B5mD2ULLXzYmY_RWjuhi7tItcNn5x8uO_hreQriXZVepEIjv5Gq15QDA6bAI340uJ0RkGw-kLJ5BKcfdbPm/s320/Fireplace+demolition+9.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4Pdhq5M69ZHZQ7rPNcshkYKvtRYdM6z5JKJEd2Ciz31lyAZHX8LIGQMCV6IIMVPvaJdhnEsL2gHtza7AhbdrnFbIjfhXgTKD8EP7a37OThneFfsnB1vnbWwtyfBjTTtYt3HAB7Fde9bL/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4Pdhq5M69ZHZQ7rPNcshkYKvtRYdM6z5JKJEd2Ciz31lyAZHX8LIGQMCV6IIMVPvaJdhnEsL2gHtza7AhbdrnFbIjfhXgTKD8EP7a37OThneFfsnB1vnbWwtyfBjTTtYt3HAB7Fde9bL/s320/Fireplace+demolition+11.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKx-yNtwWZDpb9f-ZN0mbn19AeRcxXmOlWOfnx9dW3ijGoIIRa1J2y9hOztSX3C2lQxdOIjbkJoc8w37TaNhg_FDp1xGMVILwlT5HTRqP39JexP9TVHrNl0bnQKTylU6IGA7ZKz1QjhTgN/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKx-yNtwWZDpb9f-ZN0mbn19AeRcxXmOlWOfnx9dW3ijGoIIRa1J2y9hOztSX3C2lQxdOIjbkJoc8w37TaNhg_FDp1xGMVILwlT5HTRqP39JexP9TVHrNl0bnQKTylU6IGA7ZKz1QjhTgN/s320/Fireplace+demolition+15.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
We found a few little surprises when the wall came down. I was seriously convinced that there would be a dead body or something behind the wall. (Hey, I taught Poe's "<a href="http://xroads.virginia.edu/~hyper/POE/cask.html">Cask of Amontillado</a>" to ninth graders for years and years. That makes it way less weird.) The biggest surprise after not finding a body was that there were two outlets behind the wall. They were totally inaccessible. While I'm not really up on electrical code, I'm pretty sure that is totally against it. To me it seems like a bit of a fire hazard. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnWnmctwFeW9IU7PQQSSJ6e8w4KY_Hqe4i1xkUuItqjUg63yU7K838aocdUNaGYK1tiLX5KBzmF49akpOcf2fFp4ihdfDcFbyEIk3CsNa8qbsp9kAK0zWqMBcQU4WKCiuTDrd2t5fvsJ3/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnWnmctwFeW9IU7PQQSSJ6e8w4KY_Hqe4i1xkUuItqjUg63yU7K838aocdUNaGYK1tiLX5KBzmF49akpOcf2fFp4ihdfDcFbyEIk3CsNa8qbsp9kAK0zWqMBcQU4WKCiuTDrd2t5fvsJ3/s320/Fireplace+demolition+12.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LXr2Tq6aKuHNGJQnExdfInGrBi5c_V_UTbEeQGjeIY09ikqcKhJ89NSBYpcPpakSl0zV0W7kMtN1yJVY01zh6-3EBf4e3F_jncEqkLo5n9MBWBWlhKk5Pz129yAhhoSKv_heo8aI29xg/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LXr2Tq6aKuHNGJQnExdfInGrBi5c_V_UTbEeQGjeIY09ikqcKhJ89NSBYpcPpakSl0zV0W7kMtN1yJVY01zh6-3EBf4e3F_jncEqkLo5n9MBWBWlhKk5Pz129yAhhoSKv_heo8aI29xg/s320/Fireplace+demolition+14.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The holes in the wall at the ceiling were because the wall there was black. It wasn't clear if the blackness was from smoke damage or mold, so Beau tore a chunk of the wall out. (After seeing the damage in the west wall, we really wanted to make sure that there was no moisture behind that wall, too.) The insides looked good, so we're pretty sure that the blackness was smoke damage. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAyUzVBXALFFTvP2tTs5Lw7PT17jRtZhY0YcN9RJmUb8RGN2qOJWCLuy4w6mnTzkTqL9PiUFSTF-ZgXj5oUPMHRtHr2VTQDpOt7VvascKdF2On1100ZqaKDjlUiiEjL63-eJ66n3s2X3H/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAyUzVBXALFFTvP2tTs5Lw7PT17jRtZhY0YcN9RJmUb8RGN2qOJWCLuy4w6mnTzkTqL9PiUFSTF-ZgXj5oUPMHRtHr2VTQDpOt7VvascKdF2On1100ZqaKDjlUiiEjL63-eJ66n3s2X3H/s320/Fireplace+demolition+13.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The other big surprise was that there was no gas shut-off valve at the source, so we weren't able to unhook the fireplace. We'll have to have a professional come out and do that. (Beau would love to do it, but I put my foot down there. Tear down walls, uninstall toilets, whatever. DO NOT mess with anything that can cause a huge explosion. I know, I know, I'm suck a buzz kill.)<br />
<br />
We were pretty bummed about that last revelation because we had really hoped we'd get rid of the hulking fireplace and really feel like we'd made progress.<br />
<br />
While demolition is way fun, it is always way messy. I did not love the clean-up afterwards. Fortunately, the weather was amazing so we could open doors and windows to air it out Also, we have no almost no furniture. Because of that, cleaning really just entailed mopping the floors a million times and wiping down counters as many times.<br />
<br />
Just for comparison, I took this shot of a clean Swiffer Wet Jet mop and one that had made two sweeps through the dust and dirt. It took five of them to get the floor to look sort of clean. Later I mopped on my hands and knees with a rag and Mr. Clean.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mXfrJbZ_X8fh_nPYUYAowNdU4Vbg67F7nH9F_lIdvnL-CqQTQSiBMvHlKpzA0d0K5FJGLjQNqGwZejbeOa4R9rS-Zoq6f9HJyRSO3zjyaScGNXiKinSGHl2uGdGI_cc5R1L-90Kd91zs/s1600/Fireplace+demolition+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mXfrJbZ_X8fh_nPYUYAowNdU4Vbg67F7nH9F_lIdvnL-CqQTQSiBMvHlKpzA0d0K5FJGLjQNqGwZejbeOa4R9rS-Zoq6f9HJyRSO3zjyaScGNXiKinSGHl2uGdGI_cc5R1L-90Kd91zs/s320/Fireplace+demolition+16.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Even though it feels like we are only making backwards progress (wait, is that an oxymoron?), I know that getting all of this stuff done now while the house is just an uninhabited shell will make life easier down the road. In all honesty, my head probably would have exploded if we had done the floors, painted and furnished the upstairs and decided to take the wall out in a few years. Quel mess.<br />
<br />
Essentially we are creating a blank canvass upon which to paint our mountain masterpiece. <br />
<br />
Geesh that was corny. <br />
<br />
Soon (a totally relative word, in all honesty), Aunt Betsy will come to visit and instead of the empty shell of a deckless house she will come to a lovely, furnished, finished home that requires no manual labor. I'll be bringing her a drink of her choosing on the deck. Or maybe we'll sip tea or cocoa in front of a roaring fire in the new fireplace.<br />
<br />
Looking at it now, that seems so far away...<br />
<br />
Any other walls coming down out there in the blogosphere? Anyone else finding scary code-breaking stuff in a house you're renovating? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-46298343064141748242013-06-22T00:30:00.001-04:002013-06-22T00:30:44.573-04:00First birthday partyLet's be real. I'm not one of those moms who can execute a perfectly organized, adorable themed party. I'm just not really that much of a detail person. More so, I'm not one to remember to take photos of everything.<br />
<br />
And, Little Man is one. So, really the "perfect" party would have been more for me to show off than for his enjoyment. So, we kept it pretty sweet and simple.<br />
<br />
I did put quite a bit of effort into designing the invitations because I figured I couldn't let my vast experience in graphic design (read: eight years of advising a yearbook and ten years of school newspapers) go to waste.<br />
<br />
This is what I came up with:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv03yfmOhyphenhyphenPenF-MhyphenhyphenZt3k24T4aC7f29FSp8FdVC6JRdsutuOgk-uzwYIeP1qbojyfzgxchDAmAX4Hj9d0UssBotYu4KyCOj97wbxfIB6sS39UVORifrrhjUhADsm53eRV_JHtxds3aipX/s1600/first+birthday+invitation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv03yfmOhyphenhyphenPenF-MhyphenhyphenZt3k24T4aC7f29FSp8FdVC6JRdsutuOgk-uzwYIeP1qbojyfzgxchDAmAX4Hj9d0UssBotYu4KyCOj97wbxfIB6sS39UVORifrrhjUhADsm53eRV_JHtxds3aipX/s320/first+birthday+invitation.jpg" width="302" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I simply designed them using Adobe InDesign, printed them on card stock at Staples, stuck a mustache sticker in the middle and glued 1/4 of a piece of 12x12 scrapbook paper to the back of the invitation. I got a combo pack of paper at Target, so there were different patterns of paper for every 4 invitations. The argyle above is my favorite. Because of that "vast experience," they were pretty quick and easy to whip up.</div>
<br />
As far as theme went, I decided that a "Little Man" party seemed appropriate since I refer to him as Little Man here. There were mustaches, and that was pretty much as far as I took it. I got finger 'staches, but totally got so busy with everything party related that I didn't take many pictures of kids and adults "wearing them". Mom fail number two: an improperly documented first birthday party.<br />
<br />
Take my word for it, finger 'staches are fun.<br />
<br />
I kept decorations pretty simple. We did balloons and streamers, a "Happy Birthday" banner I plan to use for all future birthdays (from Target), and some chalk "art" to welcome guests and show where activities and beverages were.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_zMj86uVQ3HqFP40ZjgB7viIIs9xAVj-UK72-s1OO2hF1GcG9TGnep2oVnI551s5yzOLSFtrCPMIKrIHgiJwP2_-WnyxYX1Ci8FJO8pYWMCHk8YR-SIevGGDeRC0_wvUMy9K_1Kwddse/s1600/happy+birthday+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_zMj86uVQ3HqFP40ZjgB7viIIs9xAVj-UK72-s1OO2hF1GcG9TGnep2oVnI551s5yzOLSFtrCPMIKrIHgiJwP2_-WnyxYX1Ci8FJO8pYWMCHk8YR-SIevGGDeRC0_wvUMy9K_1Kwddse/s320/happy+birthday+sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK4hpy_0cNWoZE3jy9kREnNmhpexSqlfKZDW0YRBek_2dP2xeU1ydXqcjseMDh-_voTpQckYpp9zu7s1hUiG92yHQ4KQtyYA7W7vFLYplho1e1OIiEwdziFyFxCsnkHJh8betK6d2tXnh/s1600/enter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK4hpy_0cNWoZE3jy9kREnNmhpexSqlfKZDW0YRBek_2dP2xeU1ydXqcjseMDh-_voTpQckYpp9zu7s1hUiG92yHQ4KQtyYA7W7vFLYplho1e1OIiEwdziFyFxCsnkHJh8betK6d2tXnh/s320/enter.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
The only mustache decoration that I did get was a wall decal that I put on the glass of a shadow box frame with some of the paper from the scrapbook pack I got for the backing of the invitations. It'll hang in Little Man's room as soon as I get around to figuring out where exactly it belongs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Sluqf3m82WtimH0EwSNvh-Gu8B0WBPrb4ptsWrUwEF-B1Vk1rgUNTgw9BPw0aj4DcRy4tWMEN_XuWDDc2NZ6-qCt18RggaDq1waVuO1eTao7-VLPXgHuM0o6unLIy1WSAeSyBmCcLgZo/s1600/i+mustache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Sluqf3m82WtimH0EwSNvh-Gu8B0WBPrb4ptsWrUwEF-B1Vk1rgUNTgw9BPw0aj4DcRy4tWMEN_XuWDDc2NZ6-qCt18RggaDq1waVuO1eTao7-VLPXgHuM0o6unLIy1WSAeSyBmCcLgZo/s320/i+mustache.jpg" width="309" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It looks off center, but I had to put it where it was for the "e" to fit on the glass. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The only other mustaches were on the cakes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I got a cake from Costco because, really, who doesn't want an excuse for that chocolaty goodness? They say that they don't do custom cakes, but I put a note on the cake order form that I'd like a mustache, but if they couldn't customize it I'd take a dinosaur for my son's mustache party even though a dino made no sense at all. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They did a mustache. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9y-hdIoN7xcNV1mSdLOyXwZtQEagaZFN6utpFSMElpBhnUOv05bpyiCDTc1RTdIFtogAvBO6eNNFs3HpNKYVYfFMljKkYwDt8lmwOHTuWA4XExJ4l-ObWY-Z7ASX-xMFx-oaUK_nd3sG/s1600/costco+mustache+cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9y-hdIoN7xcNV1mSdLOyXwZtQEagaZFN6utpFSMElpBhnUOv05bpyiCDTc1RTdIFtogAvBO6eNNFs3HpNKYVYfFMljKkYwDt8lmwOHTuWA4XExJ4l-ObWY-Z7ASX-xMFx-oaUK_nd3sG/s320/costco+mustache+cake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Because Costco freaking rocks. Even though they left off "First" between Happy and Birthday. Whatever, we got a fat, brown mustache on our cake. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I wanted Little Man to have his own cake to smash and go crazy with, so I had a dear friend who also happens to be an incredible baker make some cupcakes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They were adorbs.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZT_HwsgeHNqt0BJgdI7D2lFIUF93NX3gpXmad7aJm_KCWqOxJdX4HADIYBfBkyh1ydF8OMJruMn8UM0vbgrk1bDfJLtWhiqqlfl5SNOP_ZWp9OybnSIEj5K1yRlZ0q7hIpIb7hfnH9JX/s1600/mustache+cupcakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZT_HwsgeHNqt0BJgdI7D2lFIUF93NX3gpXmad7aJm_KCWqOxJdX4HADIYBfBkyh1ydF8OMJruMn8UM0vbgrk1bDfJLtWhiqqlfl5SNOP_ZWp9OybnSIEj5K1yRlZ0q7hIpIb7hfnH9JX/s320/mustache+cupcakes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They were also pretty healthy. (Especially when compared to the Costco cake with two pounds (!) of fudge mousse in the middle...). She used fresh strawberries for a strawberry cake and a cream cheese/whipped cream type frosting. And, as you can see, she also used chocolate molds to make chocolate mustaches. Isn't that the cutest thing ever?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Anyway, on with the smashing. Notice I removed his shirt in preparation for some messy eating.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
First, he took a look at the cake. (This was after "blowing out" the candle. Where I inconveniently stepped in front of the camera. Mom fail three.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyZOJ9JSUNdvIs06k7SjUg_ffD82AkfJDugwTDSUeo8t6NWtC5nX9Ivu7d6f4x9HCFNg5r2AjInu1yw88uBJHgs-UilF7do5gmCtziviUxttHQ2LvmjTeinxNPCYt1wZ_EoIBwn5hNx9n/s1600/first+birthday+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyZOJ9JSUNdvIs06k7SjUg_ffD82AkfJDugwTDSUeo8t6NWtC5nX9Ivu7d6f4x9HCFNg5r2AjInu1yw88uBJHgs-UilF7do5gmCtziviUxttHQ2LvmjTeinxNPCYt1wZ_EoIBwn5hNx9n/s320/first+birthday+1.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
<br />
He's eyeing the cupcake as I remove the paper. He's so going to dig in and smash away. Look at him sizing up that cake. He's at the ready. He's going to pounce.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRnRNVtCshnRzf4lvxIaV2UucbM5RuUSrs-3nC6qaRXF1c2uitYGufRPcYyCTM9KnE9GNmgVrrakEVDNcBHx29OYbvCKzp1S9MC1bCQLnGT8oKq6S2ajfVyVgqh8G-O_hTrIPBDavgr7E/s1600/first+birthday+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRnRNVtCshnRzf4lvxIaV2UucbM5RuUSrs-3nC6qaRXF1c2uitYGufRPcYyCTM9KnE9GNmgVrrakEVDNcBHx29OYbvCKzp1S9MC1bCQLnGT8oKq6S2ajfVyVgqh8G-O_hTrIPBDavgr7E/s320/first+birthday+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Oh, wait. No, there is not an ounce of cake smashing joy there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdOY2U1jOWHtESF69_gRBjsREQj5NlzYxc5FgYZrNd9h6Qcj8fL5XqNIS3X4Ym4_orlP0oHq2lwvuo2lFwDr-bqeJ64mLAC9DCOSYTUpKHZbtGIgJUO-ewSXut2dpBGM-QCRJvVnIsdEq/s1600/first+birthday+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdOY2U1jOWHtESF69_gRBjsREQj5NlzYxc5FgYZrNd9h6Qcj8fL5XqNIS3X4Ym4_orlP0oHq2lwvuo2lFwDr-bqeJ64mLAC9DCOSYTUpKHZbtGIgJUO-ewSXut2dpBGM-QCRJvVnIsdEq/s320/first+birthday+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But he liked looking like a Big Man, so that was cute.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZvCbumC97pqrX8jOOZUDAQAia9uM3zYxibPtPvnhNHcLJbXoXHRWPMRfxrmpKSWi4sevSht1rFEnFUuiwJ4kabM-rG7SHZQ4YC8f699RyqDp_JnG0YbwcjsHe5kil9thIJSG1gV1JGHf/s1600/first+birthday+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZvCbumC97pqrX8jOOZUDAQAia9uM3zYxibPtPvnhNHcLJbXoXHRWPMRfxrmpKSWi4sevSht1rFEnFUuiwJ4kabM-rG7SHZQ4YC8f699RyqDp_JnG0YbwcjsHe5kil9thIJSG1gV1JGHf/s320/first+birthday+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After that anti-climactic thrill, I went inside to cut and serve the big cake. After that was done and I was enjoying my <strike>slab</strike> piece of cake, I thought maybe Little Man takes after me and would rather dig into a slice of quadruple chocolate, super sugary cake.<br />
<br />
This was a little more of what I was expecting, though he still wasn't as messy as I thought he'd be when I envisioned his cake smash.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLh4_TKV2OymWdFlfZYt0cz9ksKvutZSk1v3TG-Z4msnm4rkcwgCEFrBcTQPMYzPiOtSJi9yGcRD1RhvuQ3u2kD-CiOtkmL1cuLOTBKBkF2AirxWN2gEtogEcOHbvLQa662UFE177_mpdN/s1600/first+birthday+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLh4_TKV2OymWdFlfZYt0cz9ksKvutZSk1v3TG-Z4msnm4rkcwgCEFrBcTQPMYzPiOtSJi9yGcRD1RhvuQ3u2kD-CiOtkmL1cuLOTBKBkF2AirxWN2gEtogEcOHbvLQa662UFE177_mpdN/s320/first+birthday+4.jpg" width="286" /></a></div>
<br />
After getting cleaned up, Little Man played at the bubble station with his friend Ellie. By played, I mean he shook a bottle of bubbles as Ellie stood next to him and played with a plastic cup. One year-olds are cray cray.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtd-8iW9F5Ry9l3lNeaqaOANPobZnWGrceCZbHZXRk8ezj4568V2uSgAdyehSFn9ybm1AuUlGqOF6CUTA_BD8JwQStxZ7elJE_a5oYelzsnJ-S_hG6rTxC2xIAtUPKiIoB3Zixf3Q0Mvn/s1600/playing+with+ellie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtd-8iW9F5Ry9l3lNeaqaOANPobZnWGrceCZbHZXRk8ezj4568V2uSgAdyehSFn9ybm1AuUlGqOF6CUTA_BD8JwQStxZ7elJE_a5oYelzsnJ-S_hG6rTxC2xIAtUPKiIoB3Zixf3Q0Mvn/s320/playing+with+ellie.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
<br />
After Ellie went to play on the swing, Little Man pretended to drink from the empty cup.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHuGFXtq5RJ7fX1LEQjwuD4t8iUHRnlg_yk-EuvK0Yny4M-nl-WlU0DkwnlhocdkcS8_lmIuJYDxlvLf4i7maBXgMUjNpmErC9eDEPbQqTlzEPwo8sqmwHYLjdpZTK1DpkpN7FXtwNFDR/s1600/pretend+drinking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHuGFXtq5RJ7fX1LEQjwuD4t8iUHRnlg_yk-EuvK0Yny4M-nl-WlU0DkwnlhocdkcS8_lmIuJYDxlvLf4i7maBXgMUjNpmErC9eDEPbQqTlzEPwo8sqmwHYLjdpZTK1DpkpN7FXtwNFDR/s320/pretend+drinking.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
I know, I know. I throw a wild party.<br />
<br />
Because our neighborhood is full of kids of all ages, I tried to have activities that would amuse them all. I had a sidewalk chalk area that was fun for the older kids for about 27 seconds.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-cWiAFMOaJIcoJ5L6NgtTSXVIZHWq2O9wM3M8fZCuO8z7l3mU2TgEOmSv8td8CKKxZCEplI6DnCOAag15kmNWnRQAh0wbJKLfsNtFfNsVnRVIxV4ncFxe8_a2OBsKW45Cl0LOiAK_2go/s1600/sidewalk+chalk+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-cWiAFMOaJIcoJ5L6NgtTSXVIZHWq2O9wM3M8fZCuO8z7l3mU2TgEOmSv8td8CKKxZCEplI6DnCOAag15kmNWnRQAh0wbJKLfsNtFfNsVnRVIxV4ncFxe8_a2OBsKW45Cl0LOiAK_2go/s320/sidewalk+chalk+station.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Or however long it takes to trace everyones' feet and draw a few pictures. I think after that they went next door and played in the play house. After the party I brought over the streamers and balloons and they decorated it and made a fairy play land. It was pretty cool, and they enjoyed it very much. Yay for imaginative play.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The party was a success. There was snack food, more than enough cake, and just enough beer to keep our neighbors and friends chatty without anyone waking up the next morning on our lawn. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One of my favorite images from the party is of these two future and forever BFFs.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1FJPoPXj4tnF9x5fRvyhMdlKW042FD_fHI7Ys1ZYbMIQZDG0ajf2hr9d8P7xHjtyU-WrtK6qr2WoCxlpfgOSc7dvcb8eQJf6VKK9FZ9T3Z4jWm6YGjzdSiLiI4No1LcjYCZA1GjjGy2W/s1600/bffs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1FJPoPXj4tnF9x5fRvyhMdlKW042FD_fHI7Ys1ZYbMIQZDG0ajf2hr9d8P7xHjtyU-WrtK6qr2WoCxlpfgOSc7dvcb8eQJf6VKK9FZ9T3Z4jWm6YGjzdSiLiI4No1LcjYCZA1GjjGy2W/s320/bffs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Hey, it is hard to get a 12 month old and a 6.5 month old to look at the camera at the same time. (Or at all, apparently...) Despite that, there's a whole lot of cuteness going on there.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All of this happened on Memorial Day, but Little Man's actual birthday is the 29th. Here he is on the morning of the 29th. My one year old baby. Sigh.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWES8IQOdYO96k3-0e9wgpaVESEsbr0lFk5oKn0wWBV5TEChWUA-NWU-nL8koxArM0w5bn5Pd0dFdAe6bhoJIlvrMP1TyISLjFedeaetYNLSZYlZejSaBG1RlzAqYoqVU02Fws5Djl-Aqi/s1600/one+today.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWES8IQOdYO96k3-0e9wgpaVESEsbr0lFk5oKn0wWBV5TEChWUA-NWU-nL8koxArM0w5bn5Pd0dFdAe6bhoJIlvrMP1TyISLjFedeaetYNLSZYlZejSaBG1RlzAqYoqVU02Fws5Djl-Aqi/s320/one+today.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Even right out of bed he's a happy guy! I'm a lucky mom!<br />
<br />
Since he'd tasted and enjoyed refined sugar for (pretty much) the first time on the 27th, I thought I'd give him a breakfast treat on his actual birthday.<br />
<br />
I made homemade waffles with fresh strawberries and real whipped cream.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSilnP-0-Q0vvEZKvjEppRj9Ov-je2SQki7k7FknXjPJro8QvU5t7sEfGbRZt-psI5HT_srpnl1HCT_mJsVnHiq5AKmPlLaI-I1-QI0ZMZgX7E5eIrv-hU_0EZm16XAIj7LMgniyyMyRq-/s1600/birthday+waffles+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSilnP-0-Q0vvEZKvjEppRj9Ov-je2SQki7k7FknXjPJro8QvU5t7sEfGbRZt-psI5HT_srpnl1HCT_mJsVnHiq5AKmPlLaI-I1-QI0ZMZgX7E5eIrv-hU_0EZm16XAIj7LMgniyyMyRq-/s320/birthday+waffles+2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
Holy yum.<br />
<br />
I'd never actually made "real" waffles. I always use that boxed stuff.<br />
<br />
Never again.<br />
<br />
Perhaps soon (after I experiment a bit more), I'll post that recipe. You'll love me for it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5I_e3KeFeQ7n-ZE-JE9WtPKhovxLQAsuDEVJAetmLKW-Tc47F55WgYoChyphenhyphent6ThuOc-zOa37YVvjhSe0n8DhI1h7A-l8L6pZwo1QL-ZHzos4i7rNh5xcsgl6l3tH0gkxbWKE4iwIBRf2Y/s1600/birthday+waffles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5I_e3KeFeQ7n-ZE-JE9WtPKhovxLQAsuDEVJAetmLKW-Tc47F55WgYoChyphenhyphent6ThuOc-zOa37YVvjhSe0n8DhI1h7A-l8L6pZwo1QL-ZHzos4i7rNh5xcsgl6l3tH0gkxbWKE4iwIBRf2Y/s320/birthday+waffles.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Little Man liked the waffles almost as much as I did. Here he's blurrily signing for more.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRLHTn_exKl0nKP3_PGoaNM1Bhs8Xxe1HAYdCTavkNBD6x0B55F8iZ9mPAYNtW2SgIkcHoGTGnvTJi-LGj-lB78ZEmp1v42vbB5HJTfkSY6vNux68S6O0kJdHt_yEbuLhKCHm57v3ne9B/s1600/signing+for+more.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRLHTn_exKl0nKP3_PGoaNM1Bhs8Xxe1HAYdCTavkNBD6x0B55F8iZ9mPAYNtW2SgIkcHoGTGnvTJi-LGj-lB78ZEmp1v42vbB5HJTfkSY6vNux68S6O0kJdHt_yEbuLhKCHm57v3ne9B/s320/signing+for+more.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My new plan is to do waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for every birthday!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After breakfast it was time for the reveal of Little Man's big present. Dude got a trike! </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFBHVr5SBC-H8tBqoKobu2K2iMAQ0pM1Jw7VvLHzWQMwRV6fWJ0kOq-Upr7YQe2FEf76CJ2y9s_HBsKl1PAxwAnQhbNxWlRo0ofj1JHh9kRc6LvjiyfqHlApvGZkV79yDImhyl8yBhjTB/s1600/birthday+trike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYFBHVr5SBC-H8tBqoKobu2K2iMAQ0pM1Jw7VvLHzWQMwRV6fWJ0kOq-Upr7YQe2FEf76CJ2y9s_HBsKl1PAxwAnQhbNxWlRo0ofj1JHh9kRc6LvjiyfqHlApvGZkV79yDImhyl8yBhjTB/s320/birthday+trike.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
He loved it. Look at that concentration.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jS9TC_Zx00xCdYTv8BQBYhwuHB1GcYHzAtR3un3GnSNKAwth99ceZd7DOCqrc1LJWszsda_ZOtCZQ96FA47p8Z_Cr7DZvrZ6Rnr15Vi4d_lazRnTQj2thOQV-GF3ssz4gHfEHdpOo1wf/s1600/birthday+trike+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_jS9TC_Zx00xCdYTv8BQBYhwuHB1GcYHzAtR3un3GnSNKAwth99ceZd7DOCqrc1LJWszsda_ZOtCZQ96FA47p8Z_Cr7DZvrZ6Rnr15Vi4d_lazRnTQj2thOQV-GF3ssz4gHfEHdpOo1wf/s320/birthday+trike+2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Look at him showing off for the neighborhood ladies. Heeeeyyyyy, ladies. I've got a ride now. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I could just eat him up. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I can't believe it has been a year. In so many ways it seems like so much less than that, but then at the same time it seems like I've loved that little person forever. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I can't wait to see what this next year has in store for us. It'll be an adventure, for sure!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Do you have any birthday traditions like waffles or a banner? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-28199124621010683262013-06-19T23:16:00.002-04:002013-06-19T23:16:40.802-04:00One of those daysOur house is pretty little. Not tiny, but compact. I like it. There's not that much to clean.<br />
<br />
My biggest gripe about the house is that it has one bathroom. Who in their right mind builds that house? Remember when I wrote about it<a href="http://www.croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-little-bathroom-that-could-because.html"> here?</a> (Apparently I've had that little bathroom on my mind a lot lately.)<br />
<br />
My second biggest gripe is that there is no closet space. But, since we have four bedrooms, I have just commandeered one as a closet. <br />
<br />
That solves the closet problem. <br />
<br />
Despite my griping, the bathroom problem isn't even <em>really</em> a problem yet. I mean, sharing a bathroom with one other person isn't bad. Little Man is in diapers and I determine bath time, so he doesn't count.<br />
<br />
But on days like today...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjHbRbX9Wdk/UcJwZDGRxVI/AAAAAAAACcQ/xDQFNak2zac/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjHbRbX9Wdk/UcJwZDGRxVI/AAAAAAAACcQ/xDQFNak2zac/s320/13+-+1" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
(Yeah, that kind of day.)<br />
<br />
A second bathroom would be nice. Let's just say I didn't enjoy any beverages for quite a few hours. And I may have done the pee-pee dance. <br />
<br />
Fortunately, the plumber came and fixed this mess that Beau made (since the problem was a little bigger than he initially thought--I'll spare you the details) and the toilet is right back where it belongs--on top of that patch of grime on the floor. Just kidding. I cleaned that up. While gagging. That's probably like 67 years of scum. Eeew.<br />
<br />
I still have a few little details (faceplate, trashcan, cleaning brush and cabinet handles in Oil Rubbed Bronze) to finish up before the final bathroom reveal, but here's a shot of the new faucet and the little medicine cabinet we were waiting on.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z6bgbuAYR4/UcJyPIf6MfI/AAAAAAAACc0/dUZObFbrYH8/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z6bgbuAYR4/UcJyPIf6MfI/AAAAAAAACc0/dUZObFbrYH8/s320/13+-+1" width="228" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The bad lighting is to keep you from seeing the little loo in all its glory until the reveal. Tricky, huh?<br />
<br />
What is the one thing that could break in your life that would really make your day go downhill quickly?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-59995634357733764262013-06-18T22:19:00.001-04:002013-06-18T22:19:50.396-04:00Summer readingI have about a billion things to do, but lately I've just been in the mood to read. I managed to leave my Kindle at home last time we were in West Virginia, and that was kind of a bummer. See, when you've got a table, four folding chairs, a bed, and a pack n play as your furniture; a deck of cards (that I just purchased last visit) as your entertainment; almost no shopping; no Internet access and daylight until 9:30 p.m., reading is a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time. (Whereas in real life cleaning around abundant furniture, myriad methods of entertainment, errands, etc. make spending a day reading <i>almost </i>irresponsible.)<br />
<br />
Irresponsibility be damned. I have a book list I plan to plow through this summer! (Well, at least partially. This list could possibly take a bit longer than a summer. I do have <i>some</i> responsibilities.)<br />
<br />
I'm currently reading two books, so I'll start with them:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSGkTZxesrL8a0KlY8ZkScP2BPohK4uCSVxjklnvjshTtkoxQjxRqnUSCueyDZPpQkw66GMOvxiy_EktvzsFcqfC2W9ymQKz6cKxX80kO-5yKrojb_kTo7r-_YvhIn9y_p3DIxe9tRKcb/s1600/bonk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSGkTZxesrL8a0KlY8ZkScP2BPohK4uCSVxjklnvjshTtkoxQjxRqnUSCueyDZPpQkw66GMOvxiy_EktvzsFcqfC2W9ymQKz6cKxX80kO-5yKrojb_kTo7r-_YvhIn9y_p3DIxe9tRKcb/s320/bonk.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bonk-Curious-Coupling-Science-Sex/dp/0393334791/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371608160&sr=1-1&keywords=bonk">Bonk</a></i> by Mary Roach is for my book club. We decided any book by Mary Roach would be our current selection.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBw2dfswvhVpSwk4Or8kQihGKRScxYkcoVcIkPbC1haNX3kSgyepUJwwt_hmSrGzC4wdNGwJ1tdhe99Fnk-ubfJSd5f34ToUD71MPlqNgy7cBIAKmQqex238QmY5z8OzZP8B8fGOgSM0wd/s1600/gulp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBw2dfswvhVpSwk4Or8kQihGKRScxYkcoVcIkPbC1haNX3kSgyepUJwwt_hmSrGzC4wdNGwJ1tdhe99Fnk-ubfJSd5f34ToUD71MPlqNgy7cBIAKmQqex238QmY5z8OzZP8B8fGOgSM0wd/s320/gulp.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<br />
I listened to <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gulp-Adventures-Alimentary-Mary-Roach/dp/0393081575/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371608082&sr=1-1&keywords=gulp">Gulp</a></i>, but wanted to read one as well. That's where <i>Bonk </i>came in. I like her humor, but I'm thinking I might get science-of-sexed out. If you know me, you get that.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZk37DKejI2xewc0GNy5AVCBXZH8pv_YPi3h2HcNA8qUOEhXzBi2GIuJhIspLt0hyphenhyphenAlFQmmwZEzwJXEQfvgxa4ALLjnA3s4dSt6i8ySO2W4zMcBhuj6E-tCuj1FuLJe9TB5FYbtHh4mMP/s1600/the-storyteller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZk37DKejI2xewc0GNy5AVCBXZH8pv_YPi3h2HcNA8qUOEhXzBi2GIuJhIspLt0hyphenhyphenAlFQmmwZEzwJXEQfvgxa4ALLjnA3s4dSt6i8ySO2W4zMcBhuj6E-tCuj1FuLJe9TB5FYbtHh4mMP/s320/the-storyteller.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<br />
Our drives to and from West Virginia usually involve an <a href="http://www.audible.com/">Audible</a> book. Our most recent return trip began Jodi Picoult's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Storyteller-Jodi-Picoult/dp/1439102767/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371608052&sr=1-1&keywords=the+storyteller">The Storyteller</a></i>. We're not to far into it, but for the most part I'm enjoying it. (I think Beau can take it or leave it, so I may finish it on my own. You know, over my next fourteen or so hours in the car. That's a lot of grocery trips...)<br />
<br />
I have these two books on loan from the public library for the next two weeks, so they are next: (An exuberant "yay!!!" to my city for finally getting ebooks!!!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHy7z0cuoWRo-Z9xBiFgA-9Uq6SOdGEie5_4-CIlifcQW90ym3QKzcRgvwgZQlQEtrc9kNwyGtClsLmdJssM9nZo09sawvPj7eB9K6zKTa6t6uWVFPfgNtxd0eoIMmbyTBNNsfAo8njINM/s1600/Bill_Bryson_A_Walk_In_The_Woods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHy7z0cuoWRo-Z9xBiFgA-9Uq6SOdGEie5_4-CIlifcQW90ym3QKzcRgvwgZQlQEtrc9kNwyGtClsLmdJssM9nZo09sawvPj7eB9K6zKTa6t6uWVFPfgNtxd0eoIMmbyTBNNsfAo8njINM/s1600/Bill_Bryson_A_Walk_In_The_Woods.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Bill Bryson's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Walk-Woods-Rediscovering-America-Appalachian/dp/0307279464/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371608018&sr=1-1&keywords=a+walk+in+the+woods">A Walk in the Woods</a></i> (In honor of our hikes in the mountains near the AT. Eh, whatever works, right??)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge02sxdq9-sV_-_QA3yCweQsqkPwN9SeWVxcw0ahX9wFAdM1zaKYQOXnZrbgJ62W7j9UrgFkYF0AnQ3lX152XxQ8Jok8xQzjnJoAztKnYj0X_AcZePc_qJk1gXgF9E1upx3eV0VbDfP9Ff/s1600/age+of+miracles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge02sxdq9-sV_-_QA3yCweQsqkPwN9SeWVxcw0ahX9wFAdM1zaKYQOXnZrbgJ62W7j9UrgFkYF0AnQ3lX152XxQ8Jok8xQzjnJoAztKnYj0X_AcZePc_qJk1gXgF9E1upx3eV0VbDfP9Ff/s1600/age+of+miracles.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Age-Miracles-Karen-Thompson-Walker/dp/0812982940/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607974&sr=1-1&keywords=the+age+of+miracles">The Age of Miracles</a></i> by Karen Thompson Walker has piqued my interest.<br />
<br />
After those, some of these are on deck. I've tried to keep a somewhat respectable balance between nonfiction and fiction, but I think fiction wins again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVrHlz8wPgpK2klTlO8RfWT1lsj2QM3eRlgXewXkoMccrsalgJ8hJLr_zAJD-7HAMbjrqLqT3qs-wm5AvLdKANic9dGmY-OuKNLgJYiXt0BJYU69F3Qe_bhsb63cGRsMuLmurcAFasx7J/s1600/inferno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVrHlz8wPgpK2klTlO8RfWT1lsj2QM3eRlgXewXkoMccrsalgJ8hJLr_zAJD-7HAMbjrqLqT3qs-wm5AvLdKANic9dGmY-OuKNLgJYiXt0BJYU69F3Qe_bhsb63cGRsMuLmurcAFasx7J/s320/inferno.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<br />
Our next book club book is Dan Brown's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Inferno-Dan-Brown/dp/0385537859/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607941&sr=1-1&keywords=inferno">Inferno</a></i>. We try to keep it (relatively) light in the summer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqEesGh6UUvCqMwHo_wxrNkKjfVEhvIJ9e6_vyD6KIAHQANfGdmTQ7Udfwq-nujuIjky8IlxhUWSsSjdcDTYBA2XarA9OSlaAmQAGRxhDhmErOjtF3F8ELcStGxU8fdRRhvGQ1ek58IyU/s1600/revenge-wears-prada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlqEesGh6UUvCqMwHo_wxrNkKjfVEhvIJ9e6_vyD6KIAHQANfGdmTQ7Udfwq-nujuIjky8IlxhUWSsSjdcDTYBA2XarA9OSlaAmQAGRxhDhmErOjtF3F8ELcStGxU8fdRRhvGQ1ek58IyU/s320/revenge-wears-prada.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<br />
Laura Weisberger's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Revenge-Wears-Prada-Devil-Returns/dp/1439136637/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607907&sr=1-1&keywords=revenge+wears+prada">Revenge Wears Prada</a></i> will be great fun. I do hope it becomes a movie. More Meryl, please. (I wonder if I can read it without seeing Meryl Streep as Miranda. Doubtful. That's OK. It's a pretty great image.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixndna8wupRqfCJ6UzhumFWviKLAvACp-NPjSKKgaWT7kDhquGyx02jvQRF8R6qWJ9wYVcnrDjfip6SSyXf3P4RWv5c1oeVFG6LD47rnnzSWKiKAamZ-SCX1Ff3EppR4c9HBSh18wBNtvA/s1600/gardening+Q&A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixndna8wupRqfCJ6UzhumFWviKLAvACp-NPjSKKgaWT7kDhquGyx02jvQRF8R6qWJ9wYVcnrDjfip6SSyXf3P4RWv5c1oeVFG6LD47rnnzSWKiKAamZ-SCX1Ff3EppR4c9HBSh18wBNtvA/s1600/gardening+Q&A.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Leslie Land's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/York-Times-Gardening-Questions-Answers/dp/0761119973/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607871&sr=1-1&keywords=1000+gardening+questions+and+answers">1000 Gardening Questions and Answers</a></i>. Because I've already killed two hanging plants and my tomatoes are on the way out. A thousand questions might not be enough for me. I have a brown thumb and a gardener's heart. Maybe this will help my thumb realize my heart's desires.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOpWxafSFvZIOeUenxr32KkUoF3G1p24ycslRLSHo4fTtdCUWNrMYQfXlXeblk7ozsvfXR2fqcqEg67y3Fs5Bu_NkX_wWTLeSoB8ckgrBFQxMT9kWP-LMWXO0_tU0mpDPq78amuieEmqD/s1600/husband's+secret.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOpWxafSFvZIOeUenxr32KkUoF3G1p24ycslRLSHo4fTtdCUWNrMYQfXlXeblk7ozsvfXR2fqcqEg67y3Fs5Bu_NkX_wWTLeSoB8ckgrBFQxMT9kWP-LMWXO0_tU0mpDPq78amuieEmqD/s1600/husband's+secret.jpg" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Husbands-Secret-Liane-Moriarty/dp/0399159347/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pC_nS_nC?ie=UTF8&colid=3W185Y9QS6QPR&coliid=IT9CRZKFDCKN8">The Husband's Secret</a></i> by Laine Moriarty sounds very interesting. And scary. What if we don't really know the person we think we know best? Eeek. (Out July 30th.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0T3ln7UQwTzSuGwUXj7WLHOPLnCRcUkBcNFVxkSf_1AbKcrPxxXSehU4Nh2bekG9Bqj0ONpui3RaTsELr7kWm0-0cPFvRA9nGAdQZY9h0Qci7UkVr6_NobV3T6P2UkRbV65UMZIaGe06/s1600/freuds+mistress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0T3ln7UQwTzSuGwUXj7WLHOPLnCRcUkBcNFVxkSf_1AbKcrPxxXSehU4Nh2bekG9Bqj0ONpui3RaTsELr7kWm0-0cPFvRA9nGAdQZY9h0Qci7UkVr6_NobV3T6P2UkRbV65UMZIaGe06/s1600/freuds+mistress.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I loved <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Novel-Fitzgerald-Therese-Anne-Fowler/dp/1250028655/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607740&sr=1-1&keywords=z%3A+zelda"><i>Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald</i> </a>and <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Paris-Wife-Novel-Paula-McLain/dp/0345521315/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607783&sr=1-1&keywords=the+paris+wife">The Paris Wife</a></i>, so I think <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Freuds-Mistress-Karen-Mack/dp/0399163077/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371607811&sr=1-1&keywords=freud%27s+mistress"><i>Freud's Mistress</i> </a>by Karen Mack and Jennifer Kaufman is right up my alley. (Out July 9th.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFExgN6biD5IRgSxaE2lN-6eJBsPGWOi2n8RBovR6KtoQa4Mc1FE2OymGYN65Yq_bVhu_IR_xi7IGSq3eJyQjYMbiTHg3UG6TMc6nwylhYUGCIIqvZYtuZKbUfLGS_As204vRFe3Rc269d/s1600/end+of+your+life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFExgN6biD5IRgSxaE2lN-6eJBsPGWOi2n8RBovR6KtoQa4Mc1FE2OymGYN65Yq_bVhu_IR_xi7IGSq3eJyQjYMbiTHg3UG6TMc6nwylhYUGCIIqvZYtuZKbUfLGS_As204vRFe3Rc269d/s320/end+of+your+life.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<br />
I can't imagine dealing with my mom or anyone I love going though cancer treatment. I didn't even like typing the words. I think if it ever did happen, I'd find solace in books, so <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Your-Life-Book-Club-Vintage/dp/0307739783/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pC_nS_nC?ie=UTF8&colid=3W185Y9QS6QPR&coliid=IZQAL2BYPEBYX">The End of Your Life Book Club</a></i> by Will Schawlbe intrigues me. I am 100% positive I'll need to have tissues handy. And I'm not a crier.<br />
<br />
I've got others on my list, but these ten will probably be enough to get me started. What do you have on your reading list this summer?<br />
<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-71830982635872796442013-06-15T14:23:00.004-04:002013-06-15T14:23:51.492-04:00May update...in June don't judge<br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Ok, so I've been absent for a few weeks. I hate it when I do that. I know you do too. Part of our time was spent in the land of no internet connection a.k.a. West Virginia. The renter in our downstairs apartment hints heavily that he would really like wi-fi. I would too!!! I'm going to join that naggy bandwagon.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Of course, I would also like a deck.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Wait, what? Don't you have three huge ones, Amy? </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Well, yes, we did. And then our contractor came in to take a look at the possible rot under the doors and windows that hadn't been flashed properly. (I have no idea if flashing (noun) can be turned into a verb like I did, but it sure does sound funny, so I'm keeping it that way. If you are a builder and it gives you the heebie-jeebies, kindly ignore my ignorence. Thank you.) He pulled off a corner of the siding and found what he nicely called "significant rot." As in: holy crap, your house may fall down. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-XmJfstVroMpR0ImwRCbFX171Ij51iJuRkAVtAOe6RkDAPQBQEyX5Pyv-qYvIVm647F9sDqu_XcSELV0SB-IHJNb4X6b80VjcIREt64pWqz91ybwwbKLIAqnZPBn4eRvk6Bs8gcXsipm/s1600/13+-+20" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-XmJfstVroMpR0ImwRCbFX171Ij51iJuRkAVtAOe6RkDAPQBQEyX5Pyv-qYvIVm647F9sDqu_XcSELV0SB-IHJNb4X6b80VjcIREt64pWqz91ybwwbKLIAqnZPBn4eRvk6Bs8gcXsipm/s320/13+-+20" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3V8wOWwHNPBVJK67njkt2BDWB3urJ4Uk-2DFi98hY1t9MsBkxIWAxnAFVfnkBeIomA6mMIuZAbyAotmHWPCzuh-uAOJ-5JlljEww4t8z-aM4oKp0WTZy7-_T9HHBdf-yfRiBNtxAMPhUu/s1600/13+-+18" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3V8wOWwHNPBVJK67njkt2BDWB3urJ4Uk-2DFi98hY1t9MsBkxIWAxnAFVfnkBeIomA6mMIuZAbyAotmHWPCzuh-uAOJ-5JlljEww4t8z-aM4oKp0WTZy7-_T9HHBdf-yfRiBNtxAMPhUu/s320/13+-+18" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Ok, no not quite like that, but the decks were "compromised" and to me that just sounds dangerous and scary. To Beau it sounds dangerous, scary, and expensive. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
He's right. Despite that, we have opted to replace all three of the back decks to prevent them from pulling from the house and falling. (Gulp.)</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
As of right now, we have no decks. (An ironic twist since I was most looking forward to hanging out on the deck this summer when temperatures at home were in the sticky 90's.) Instead, we now have a sheer 40ish foot drop. Not a big draw.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGbcKWGWNu_0CZHC6X4Yg-QdEXSrPY3L8mU9dLzlISbQzCdP32z3h7zbieencs-BDO_qEVd55F8N1HriDbIL8qV-33Fb-mK7eBplfY_ZTj8nEdAS-Wd_LgInRV9WJpKktNfYfI9nedrNv7/s1600/13+-+22" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGbcKWGWNu_0CZHC6X4Yg-QdEXSrPY3L8mU9dLzlISbQzCdP32z3h7zbieencs-BDO_qEVd55F8N1HriDbIL8qV-33Fb-mK7eBplfY_ZTj8nEdAS-Wd_LgInRV9WJpKktNfYfI9nedrNv7/s320/13+-+22" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIBO4tWqh75f_2Ad-4Sgm16YcOEk53j746pyl81NC8UTJHFaDe5scLALQMLGHduguHn1i4_RUBstUN2xKgJfS6lNKzQHEm53TKBV4fxT_uzvFo7brVAzJgB0GgVaR3nA_MzL42FKudtsHS/s1600/13+-+16" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIBO4tWqh75f_2Ad-4Sgm16YcOEk53j746pyl81NC8UTJHFaDe5scLALQMLGHduguHn1i4_RUBstUN2xKgJfS6lNKzQHEm53TKBV4fxT_uzvFo7brVAzJgB0GgVaR3nA_MzL42FKudtsHS/s320/13+-+16" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Over the past few weeks Beau and I (but mostly Beau if you are looking for full transparency…) have been staining the new siding that will go up when our contractor gets the OK to tear all the old stuff down and get back there to fix all of the rot. The OK has to come from the architectural review committee--heretofore the ARC. (Surprise! We had no idea they existed until they called to tell us to cease all construction.) Our contractor has worked with them before, but since we are making no changes to the aesthetics of the building, he didn't realize we'd need to go through the review process. We do. It is important that the deer, birds and bears that see the west facing wall have a view that is cohesive with the rest of the structures on the mountain. Or something.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
All snakiness aside, there is a good reason for the ARC and we don't begrudge their diligence. I just really hope we can get a speedy thumbs-up.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
In anticipation of the enthusiastic thumbs up, Beau and I stained. Did you know when staining cedar siding, you need to stain both sides in order to really utilize the protective properties of the stain? We didn't know that when we first calculated the gallonage we'd need. Nor did we anticipate how much those panels would suck. They were thirsty little buggers. As it was, we bought out the stain we needed (Sikkens transparent in Mahogany) from two different Home Depots. We quickly discovered our folly and after using up all that we brought from home, Beau took a three hour scenic tour--one way!-- to the nearest Home Depot to pick up three more gallons. (We were told they had more in stock when we called, but the sales guy was mistaken. It was a long trip for three gallons…) In that weekend we managed to stain quite a bit, but it was still less than half of the siding we have.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBJXGR5TGUGdpBgvLuIaWw_p73cs_DHXauQiQ5oZMxFQ_Eoq0w6qpLxNjuGR2odVck_wgyDgDdUR5ytlbhz6cO-UyiD0YATmya3vczQIAPDh0fRuTQWG7HhEImeUnHXsGiLFkBdsWpsR2/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBJXGR5TGUGdpBgvLuIaWw_p73cs_DHXauQiQ5oZMxFQ_Eoq0w6qpLxNjuGR2odVck_wgyDgDdUR5ytlbhz6cO-UyiD0YATmya3vczQIAPDh0fRuTQWG7HhEImeUnHXsGiLFkBdsWpsR2/s320/13+-+1" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQl1gSGZCz09__IIcclrLB9zuh2nYSn5Bin5rNVYACXEH4IQ63fXkfEsvuVzK1XVZdo5ij9qeC5p5CDPErVFM5td0yq3X9ldwuLLuDtGZbPHmg4N5C7O8Hv3qfEBffT4wJOO5v1EGvVir3/s1600/13+-+6" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQl1gSGZCz09__IIcclrLB9zuh2nYSn5Bin5rNVYACXEH4IQ63fXkfEsvuVzK1XVZdo5ij9qeC5p5CDPErVFM5td0yq3X9ldwuLLuDtGZbPHmg4N5C7O8Hv3qfEBffT4wJOO5v1EGvVir3/s320/13+-+6" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
All that reddish stain all over the place made me think that we looked like the West Virginia version of Dexter.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
We had to get back home for someone's big FIRST BIRTHDAY! (Post to come!) So Beau decided to come back a few days later with more stain,--he bought out two more Home Depots and an ACE hardware!-- elicit the help of the South African who was crashing in the basement apartment and stain like its 1999. He and Chris (the random but amusing crasher) finished the job while Little Man and I hung out at home and enjoyed life without stain fumes.</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Speaking of that, when Little Man and I were there, we had a pretty elaborate and genius (if I do say so myself) staining set-up that was 100% outdoors. It was a clear breezy day, so the fumes wafted away (sorry mother nature) and didn't touch Little Man's delicate lungs. We were lucky enough to have Beau's amazing sister Betsy in town and she spent some quality time with Little Man. They took long walks, napped together on the leaky air mattress, read some great literature and played all kinds of games. I can't express how wonderfully helpful she was. (She also got to do some demo, so that was a bonus! More on that in another post.)</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
To most efficiently stain and dry multiple pieces of siding at a time, we set up two railings from the old deck and laid out quite a few strips. we'd stain, flip, stain, and shift. By the time we got through half a dozen or so, the first few would be dry-ish, so we'd move them to another drying station down the driveway and would repeat the process. I think it was a pretty efficient process. At first we were bummed that the contractor hadn't left us any sawhorses, but once my brilliant idea of old deck railings came to fruition, we realized we were better off!</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CCeM48ad-HEM7WiGwrCF2tcK2pBhf4wrG9izMsbYZJ4_H8FO3V5Z1MozzobDJfCN4UGAWa9ySmgKHG5-ejVFUGQPXaM4ummGinLVIBa4VrlvAqOvtwGRkstSsed1L9trPTtMMr1iCD7g/s1600/13+-+13" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CCeM48ad-HEM7WiGwrCF2tcK2pBhf4wrG9izMsbYZJ4_H8FO3V5Z1MozzobDJfCN4UGAWa9ySmgKHG5-ejVFUGQPXaM4ummGinLVIBa4VrlvAqOvtwGRkstSsed1L9trPTtMMr1iCD7g/s320/13+-+13" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfD1NCEl77pHEOsijtLPC1Fsojp8FJxI3vaAhSyluF8jYlrrngyT7efIzBESRQvBnSqAQcZHZzcoaH-1aPz8K89JwqiR0BJDt5apk5wulkHNjGoLe6awB671RlpQv7etRm0Nq30Rs061S/s1600/13+-+3" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfD1NCEl77pHEOsijtLPC1Fsojp8FJxI3vaAhSyluF8jYlrrngyT7efIzBESRQvBnSqAQcZHZzcoaH-1aPz8K89JwqiR0BJDt5apk5wulkHNjGoLe6awB671RlpQv7etRm0Nq30Rs061S/s320/13+-+3" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF-Bh3Dtv8e0VV2DjFngdGRb8fwVBHuTWFk3wqk3KjoJjO2bNiLSgSjNH1jABGedBXj3NapurRo2bdV111VxyS5yy4d8qoJKssHJl7akuMqK1qfCXi5aW0Q-zT6fgnyFwH648wi_KXowq/s1600/13+-+4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF-Bh3Dtv8e0VV2DjFngdGRb8fwVBHuTWFk3wqk3KjoJjO2bNiLSgSjNH1jABGedBXj3NapurRo2bdV111VxyS5yy4d8qoJKssHJl7akuMqK1qfCXi5aW0Q-zT6fgnyFwH648wi_KXowq/s320/13+-+4" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Since this is getting pretty long, I'll save the demo days for another post, but to tease, I'll tell you that (some)hardwood, carpet and a wall are gone, baby, gone! </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
Are you folks taking a pair brush to anything? Anyone want to come take a paint brush to the pink and mauve striped walls that seem like they'll be that way for a while?</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<br /></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-5328586155830026162013-05-21T23:00:00.000-04:002013-05-21T23:00:08.271-04:00Thoughts on being 35-- very, very deep thoughtsLast Thursday I turned 35. What? I don't look a day over 30? You're sweet. Thank you.<br />
<br />
I've had a few days to let my new age grow on me and I have some thoughts on being 35.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAF7X4QTyvg/UZwyExQ2h5I/AAAAAAAACU0/KD3Bvm-Zw0U/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAF7X4QTyvg/UZwyExQ2h5I/AAAAAAAACU0/KD3Bvm-Zw0U/s320/13+-+1" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
1. Celebrating your 35th birthday at <a href="http://www.greatwolf.com/williamsburg/waterpark">Great Wolf Lodge</a> is a way to totally forget that you are anything but a kid at heart. I highly recommend celebrating anything there. Especially if it is on a weekday in mid-May. It was incredibly uncrowded.<br />
<br />
2. The US Census Bureau considers 35 to be middle age. Most other sources feel it starts later. You're wrong, Census. Way wrong. Ain't nobody here but us spring chickens. (For some reason simply typing "spring chickens" made me feel at least 80.)<br />
<br />
3. It is possible that your body will play funny tricks on you and have you wake up on your birthday with a very sore back. You will think this is the onset of old age. It is not. It is caused by sleeping in an uncomfortable (by your overly pampered standards) bed and carrying a 20+ pound baby around. A soak in the hot tub and a good night's sleep in your own bed will take care of that. If you're still feeling bad, see #1.<br />
<br />
4. My 30s have been my favorite years. If the events in the past year or so--a sweet baby and marriage--are any indication, things will only get better. If that is even possible.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-svwVabluEe0/UZwxbUDTQxI/AAAAAAAACUI/BgXOX0KuJiw/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-svwVabluEe0/UZwxbUDTQxI/AAAAAAAACUI/BgXOX0KuJiw/s320/13+-+2" width="240" /></a></div>
5. Cake. Every birthday deserves cake. This does not change when you are firmly ensconced in adulthood. If it does, immediately ditch whomever you celebrate your birthdays with and find people who worship at the altar of Cake. Your life will be tenfold better for it. Promise. (Disclaimer: The it in question is cake and not the ditching of people...)<br />
<br />
6. The process of ageing is natural. You had no choice in when you were born. The choice you do have is how you are going to spend the days you are given. If you feel the need to wish away your days on being younger and hipper you will probably miss out on beautiful things, end up looking foolish and/or woefully regret not taking advantage of whatever age you are grumbling about. It is, therefore, pointless to lie to make yourself younger. Nothing will actually make you numerically younger, but your attitude will determine how old you feel. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t24EEe--n2s/UZwyE8WQmQI/AAAAAAAACUs/HWKJGKg6sas/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t24EEe--n2s/UZwyE8WQmQI/AAAAAAAACUs/HWKJGKg6sas/s320/13+-+2" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Babies discovering your nose will make you feel young...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
7. Lies about your age ARE OK if you tell students that you are 25 for 11 consecutive birthdays. The reactions are priceless. In doing this I have made some interesting sociological and anthropological observations. Among them are the following: 1) boys generally take you at your word, 2) girls will scrutinize you and/or do the math to figure out you are fibbing. Someone will call you out, and 3) no matter how young you say you are, someone (usually a boy) will <em>always</em> lie and tell you they thought you were younger--sometimes <em>much</em> younger. (There is no way I look 22, Charmer. I see you have a beautiful future as a politician. You have my vote.)<br />
<br />
8. The advent of Facebook makes users feel uber popular on birthdays. (Wait, what? I have 64 pending messages? Look at all that love.)<br />
<br />
9. I always thought being an adult would feel more um, adult like. Generally I feel like I'm a kid pretending to be an adult. Does that ever stop? I don't want it to.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QiB0QaKs_Ak/UZwxbc_6ZVI/AAAAAAAACUQ/2drrYaqxwt0/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QiB0QaKs_Ak/UZwxbc_6ZVI/AAAAAAAACUQ/2drrYaqxwt0/s320/13+-+1" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I mean, I look like an adult, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
10. Having a birthday does not make your library books un-due. They are still late and you still have a fine. Oops.<br />
<br />
Do the 5's and the 0's seem to carry more weight for you, too? Why is that? What are your thoughts on your latest "milestone" birthday?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-2850874308211152552013-05-20T23:01:00.000-04:002013-05-20T23:13:02.335-04:00The little bathroom that could (because it had to...)Our house is a cute little thing. And when I say little, I mean <span style="font-size: xx-small;">eensy-teensy.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Don't get me wrong, I think it is plenty big for the three of us. And, really, if (ahem, <em>when</em>, Beau) we add a fourth, it'll probably be big enough for all of us*. A big house means big housework, and ain't nobody got time for that. (Come on, you all saw that coming, right?) </span><br />
<br />
We do, however, have one majorly irritating small-house problem.<br />
<br />
One bathroom.<br />
<br />
One very small bathroom. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2AfzePvUS1c/UZrb8wiAvSI/AAAAAAAACSg/gcki_f1iHmI/s1600/13+-+5" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2AfzePvUS1c/UZrb8wiAvSI/AAAAAAAACSg/gcki_f1iHmI/s320/13+-+5" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Wait, that doesn't look that small.<br />
<br />
No? Here's an aerial shot of the whole thing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CDmZKjPm5HI/UZrb85WYyuI/AAAAAAAACSw/FmNDhIFMFYk/s1600/13+-+6" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CDmZKjPm5HI/UZrb85WYyuI/AAAAAAAACSw/FmNDhIFMFYk/s320/13+-+6" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Some of you gasped. I heard it. Can you imagine not having your counter space/double sink/soaking tub/full length mirror in the bathroom you and your <em>entire family</em> use <em>every-single day?</em> We have none of that. We have a pedestal sink, a toilet and a standard cast iron tub. It's pretty small and way basic. Notice how the door hits the sink instead of opening all the way. The house was built in a time when large and numerous bathrooms weren't the norm. (Nor, apparently, were closets, but I'll get to that some other day.) I'm guessing people didn't brush their teeth at the same time back then.<br />
<br />
You're thinking I'm going to write about our amazing redo where I get this amazing bathroom space, right?<br />
<br />
Sorry, Charlie, this is amateur hour, not <a href="http://www.younghouselove.com/">Young House Love</a>.<br />
<br />
Beau has talked about a complete gut, but to be quite honest, I like the original tile from 1946. It is charming. It's also in way better shape than I would be if I was from 1946. Since extending the house out to accommodate my dream bathroom is out of the picture, and gutting our only bathroom is impractical, we have taken some baby steps to create a more lovely space. <br />
<br />
Namely, we got rid of the peeling and probably lead-filled ceiling paint and the rusty, outdated fixtures.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ijMXBAVl29I/UZrb86LmL_I/AAAAAAAACTI/m4oJii8TsMI/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ijMXBAVl29I/UZrb86LmL_I/AAAAAAAACTI/m4oJii8TsMI/s320/13+-+2" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Look at those chunks of paint just waiting to fall into Little Man's bath water. And that fixture. Ugh.<br />
<br />
I chose a soothing gray color for the walls (Sherwin-Williams "<a href="http://www.sherwin-williams.com/homeowners/color/find-and-explore-colors/paint-colors-by-family/SW6197-aloof-gray/">Aloof Gray</a>") and ceiling to give the illusion of a bigger space. The ceiling fixture is the Hampton Bay 2-Light Flush-Mount Restoration Bronze Light From <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/p/t/202024839?storeId=10051&langId=-1&catalogId=10053&productId=202024839&R=202024839#.UZrgh3bD-Uk">The Home Depot,</a> and the wall fixture below is the Perfect Home 2-Light Oil Rubbed Bronze Vanity, also from <a href="http://www.homedepot.com/p/t/202768463?storeId=10051&langId=-1&catalogId=10053&productId=202768463&R=202768463#.UZrhHnbD-Uk">The Depot.</a> They aren't the exact same bronze, but I liked the ceiling mount fixture because it felt a smidge art deco and fit with the retro tile. Oh, and it didn't look like a boob in the middle of the ceiling.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXZIhRwcG2A/UZrb8yQZvTI/AAAAAAAACS4/QEs6By4ymec/s1600/13+-+3" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TXZIhRwcG2A/UZrb8yQZvTI/AAAAAAAACS4/QEs6By4ymec/s320/13+-+3" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The gray is very, very subtle and very, very hard to photograph. (Especially when the day is the exact same shade of gray as the walls...) I think I probably could have gone a little darker, but I played it safe because it is such a small space. I didn't want it to feel more claustrophobic than it actually is. <br />
<br />
As for the actual process of scraping and re-plastering the ceiling, I can't tell you how that went. We hired a very nice man to do that and I took Little Man out of the house. It just seemed easier and safer to have someone who knew what he was doing since it had the potential to be pretty dangerous.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rX44IxGYHGc/UZrb80bti7I/AAAAAAAACTA/Fc0B66B7Nf0/s1600/13+-+4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rX44IxGYHGc/UZrb80bti7I/AAAAAAAACTA/Fc0B66B7Nf0/s320/13+-+4" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
We've still got work to do, obviously: The medicine cabinet had to be special ordered because, like everything else in the bathroom, it is tiny. Beau grabbed a chrome shower curtain rod instead of an oil rubbed bronze one. (And then looked adorably confused when I tried to explain that it does actually matter.) We need switch plates, and Beau needs to hang the cabinet that will go behind the toilet. It'll all get done soon. (Pending the delivery of the medicine cabinet.)<br />
<br />
It is a start, but I'm way excited for the little changes we've made to our little bathroom in our little house.<br />
<br />
Now, I just wish the paint would dry on this day with 100% humidity so I could take a shower...<br />
<br />
What little (or big) projects have you tackled that have made a big difference? Or, how do you feel about my decision to keep the tile and preserve the old feel of the space?<br />
<em></em><br />
* Disclaimer: I reserve the right to redact that statement at any point in time.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-1396481550529725472013-05-09T23:12:00.001-04:002013-05-09T23:12:36.662-04:00Dreamy-Deliciousness Did you love Magic Shell as much as I did growing up? Or, maybe more accurately, you love it still today. It's chocolate. That makes a hard outer shell over ice cream. Could there be a better pairing?<br />
<br />
I say no. No, there cannot.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-Na_6S1YSm8Uco7X1wvQqUHg4K_a-C860xqjmgUfYZ34QuDYuWUvuclstM3hiPDetTPlIOFwrS8WAn2prw4dI-FPLC6-H838KnzRxn92AIaNgGc1AWgXQtqOB-L9f3QlFvBM7PJh3TR2/s1600/homemade+magic+shell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-Na_6S1YSm8Uco7X1wvQqUHg4K_a-C860xqjmgUfYZ34QuDYuWUvuclstM3hiPDetTPlIOFwrS8WAn2prw4dI-FPLC6-H838KnzRxn92AIaNgGc1AWgXQtqOB-L9f3QlFvBM7PJh3TR2/s320/homemade+magic+shell.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Making your own Magic Shell is easy. It is also probably copyrighted, so we shall from this point forward call the hard chocolate shell on ice cream "Dreamy-Deliciousness Shell." And yes, I do know that there is a very good reason I haven't been hired for that job in product development/naming. Don Draper I am not.<br />
<br />
Anywhoo.<br />
<br />
I once told you peeps that I was going to do a post about coconut oil for my <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/search/label/Granola">Granola Mom</a> series. I haven't forgotten. I just tend to use it more for cooking than experimenting with it beyond that. I do have a couple of fun uses to share, promise.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzN7sS-CjCYddf7d2LzmwZzWBxzXmfsfvc6hYUV0Rs4yon7l0LhapZIK_bZll75MYtgmjf0os9CFzIVuyCmHeEqnEjDs4kv37rcwWAa38WLWnwWvMrzXzkQts35b-FVGuuAgUtsQzpX8X/s1600/coconut+oil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzN7sS-CjCYddf7d2LzmwZzWBxzXmfsfvc6hYUV0Rs4yon7l0LhapZIK_bZll75MYtgmjf0os9CFzIVuyCmHeEqnEjDs4kv37rcwWAa38WLWnwWvMrzXzkQts35b-FVGuuAgUtsQzpX8X/s320/coconut+oil.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like this coconut oil. You can get it from<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nutiva-Certified-Organic-Virgin-Coconut/dp/B000GAT6NG"> Amazon</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well, it turns out that because coconut oil is a saturated oil, it creates the "magic" for the shell-that-shall-not-be-named. Seriously, making your own "Dreamy-Deliciousness Shell" is incredibly easy. Like two ingredient, 45 seconds easy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_pXHgwY6r7EGIxSzEG4ewbOQrc4DzLsczIaJvINF-dy68Zuo5EvuY1Jn5Bc211LOLro3hclOLMryNFdhVpPDTwowcTM2KuEw1_rspRAyr__fWKKWfxe2MZ-bLBzM3ymXrKDlp6qx2ofh/s1600/dark+chocolate+chips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_pXHgwY6r7EGIxSzEG4ewbOQrc4DzLsczIaJvINF-dy68Zuo5EvuY1Jn5Bc211LOLro3hclOLMryNFdhVpPDTwowcTM2KuEw1_rspRAyr__fWKKWfxe2MZ-bLBzM3ymXrKDlp6qx2ofh/s320/dark+chocolate+chips.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheF2UBoBlVRjXyg8baBpt0z-DLs_sn_5O41HE6Ir3Wfd6e4gq6ErPRYtRWMjYHHhfdLa75tycUgpfvRbMBiOdN984gCAHtQNZi-hUcIkn_SJIVlNSFN368kFvBAKqcaJxoZxjJokSyLXl/s1600/coconut+oil+on+spoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheF2UBoBlVRjXyg8baBpt0z-DLs_sn_5O41HE6Ir3Wfd6e4gq6ErPRYtRWMjYHHhfdLa75tycUgpfvRbMBiOdN984gCAHtQNZi-hUcIkn_SJIVlNSFN368kFvBAKqcaJxoZxjJokSyLXl/s320/coconut+oil+on+spoon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As per my usual, measuring is optional.<br />
<br />
<b>Dreamy-Deliciousness Shell</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
2 parts dark chocolate (I'm a fan of Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips)<br />
1 part coconut oil<br />
<br />
Melt chocolate in the microwave on a mid-power setting. Depending on the amount of chocolate, somewhere between 30 seconds to a minute should suffice. Add coconut oil. Stir. Drizzle over ice cream*, let harden for a few second, devour.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_Vl9CqrS5mnpOoTYBYose_502k1Yts_kIN5_Adjy8b0gM9gH6W0JS6mCpmMEna0ElWGgC5sxo0EHVcq4qj81LtmNo35bOc-Kou4EvnF8Ib-n4eyccUqg2LbqOv5Q0osP9r8kB1q608-g/s1600/homemade+magic+shell+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_Vl9CqrS5mnpOoTYBYose_502k1Yts_kIN5_Adjy8b0gM9gH6W0JS6mCpmMEna0ElWGgC5sxo0EHVcq4qj81LtmNo35bOc-Kou4EvnF8Ib-n4eyccUqg2LbqOv5Q0osP9r8kB1q608-g/s320/homemade+magic+shell+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
* Bonus points if you make the ice cream yourself. Here's my fool-proof and really easy vanilla ice cream recipe. (And yes, I do realize that sometimes exact proportions are necessary, so they have been provided for you.)<br />
<br />
1 1/2 cups whole milk<br />
1 1/8 cups granulated sugar<br />
3 cups heavy cream<br />
1 1/2 tablespoons vanilla extract**<br />
<br />
In stand mixer combine milk and sugar on low speed. Mix until sugar is dissolved, about two minutes. Stir in the heavy cream and vanilla. Turn on ice cream maker and pour mixture into frozen freezer bowl. Let maker run for twenty minutes or so until the ice cream has the consistency of soft serve. Either eat or transfer into an airtight container and freeze until firmer. <br />
<br />
Drizzle with Dreamy- Deliciousness Shell. Eat. <br />
<br />
So easy and not even a little bit healthy. Ice cream is not often in our house because I will eat it every. single. day. I have found, though, that in making my own I eat smaller portions. Maybe because it is real to me how much bad-for-me-but-oh-so-good ness I'm consuming. <br />
<br />
Whenever I mention coconut oil to my mom, a registered dietitian, she starts to pontificate about saturated fat. I generally stop her before she gets started and tell her that coconut got a bad rap and isn't as bad as she thinks it is. I don't actually have much to back that up as far as science is concerned, but there are a ton of granola-y blogs that say it is the bees knees. Despite being bees knees-y, I don't recommend eating this ice cream with dark chocolate and coconut oil combo every day. Your life span will most likely be drastically shortened.<br />
<br />
** We have found we like vanilla from Mexico. Especially if ordered by a well-meaning husband who had no idea that two liters of vanilla will last us our entire lives. And possibly all of Little Man's as well.<br />
<br />
On an unrelated note, if you ever need to borrow vanilla, I'm your gal.<br />
<br />
What are you making that sounds more difficult and fancier than it really is?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-88220047354579192932013-05-04T22:54:00.000-04:002013-05-04T22:55:31.743-04:00Zucchini so good your kids will eat itI live in an awesome neighborhood. It is the kind of neighborhood that belongs in the past. You know, the kind with 4th of July block parties where the street is blocked off, and the kids are tossing eggs and playing on the slip and slide. The kind where jars of homemade salsa, jam, and spice rubs are given out as Christmas gifts. The kind where someone has a key to your house so if you need your passport sent to your employer and you are on your way to Massachusetts, it'll get Fed-Exed within the hour even if you're not positive where it is in the house. (True story.) The kind where the day you bring your baby home from the hospital there is a sweet onesie on the doorstep. Tied to a bottle of wine. (And the wine doesn't get stolen...)<br />
<br />
It is also the kind of neighborhood where my neighbor Ayme often sends her husband over with a plate of whatever deliciousness they had for dinner. Seriously. That happens. Often. #nevermovingever<br />
<br />
Tonight's treat was so good I had to share it with the entire world. (Because I have that many readers, obvs.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRIoxeownN9I1ceNLf23LmgAPvPRwlsFyep8o-t7yOzaAfQ2dfsWRjIcxrB9GvGBNpWaW2H-C3ncveu0ZTrfjD_hH_3XH0tnQDMIa9KGj7YzIrlyxyNwHoPyb1FUncyrZiZO263eEEP-Qd/s1600/zuchini+pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRIoxeownN9I1ceNLf23LmgAPvPRwlsFyep8o-t7yOzaAfQ2dfsWRjIcxrB9GvGBNpWaW2H-C3ncveu0ZTrfjD_hH_3XH0tnQDMIa9KGj7YzIrlyxyNwHoPyb1FUncyrZiZO263eEEP-Qd/s320/zuchini+pizza.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Ayme made what she has dubbed "Zucchini Pizza." And yes, they are as good as they look. Better, in fact. Her two oldest boys can be picky eaters and she has made it her mission to "sneak" veggies in to their diets as often as possible. Sometimes her sneakiness involves veggies and legumes in cookies (tastes better than it sounds) or veggie laced breading on corn dogs. Other times (like tonight) she makes the veggies so compelling on their own that even a two-year-old can't say no. (Hello, who can say no to pizza?)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6fKcshHJBI5PUY563OYwAOn-fcMC8hEnwBC2MwExBjpMEs3W32HJyxHS_Dp_ywmLYHrg4o45mtInnYBFEAdYhQSu5CCUai96aiBgiW3jsdt6Yi1n7vqP6vm-FxKQNvHXFz901w50v62o/s1600/zucchini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6fKcshHJBI5PUY563OYwAOn-fcMC8hEnwBC2MwExBjpMEs3W32HJyxHS_Dp_ywmLYHrg4o45mtInnYBFEAdYhQSu5CCUai96aiBgiW3jsdt6Yi1n7vqP6vm-FxKQNvHXFz901w50v62o/s1600/zucchini.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I begged her to let me share her concoction. <br />
<br />
OK, really I just sent her a text telling her they were amazing and I wanted to tell the world. Can't say no to that. I didn't get any specific measurements, but that's not much different that most of the other recipes I share with you...<br />
<br />
<strong>Ayme's Addictive I-Hope-She-Makes-Them-Again Zucchini Pizzas</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
List of ingredients:<br />
Zucchini, sliced<br />
Grape Tomatoes, sliced<br />
Fat-Free Feta Crumbles, um crumbled<br />
Olive Oil<br />
Gourmet Garden Italian Herbs Paste (or chop basil, oregano, thyme, and rosemary)<br />
Gourmet Garden Garlic Paste (or finely chop garlic)<br />
<br />
<br />
Directions:<br />
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Mix olive oil, garlic and herbs together to a pesto-like consistency. (Ratios are to taste.) Lay slices of zucchini on a baking pan. Spread the zucchini slices with the olive oil, garlic, herb spread. Top with tomato slices. Finish with feta crumbles. Bake at 425 degrees for about 15 minutes, then broil until the feta gets browned. Make a plate for your neighbor. Enjoy.<br />
<br />
Variations:<br />
Ayme's husband was feeling spicy, so she added chili peppers to his. He said they were "bangin'". If you don't have feta at home, I'm guessing that goat cheese would also make a delicious bite. (I'm always partial to goat cheese.) In a pinch, pesto would probably be almost as effective as the garlic, herb, oil mix. Almost. <br />
<br />
I'm not yet at the picky eater stage, but I imagine I'll have to resort to some sneakiness eventually. This recipe? I kind of hope Little Man <em>doesn't</em> like it...<br />
<br />
Anyone else have sneaky/fun ways to give the veggies some love?<br />
<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-11825980182544860972013-04-27T22:53:00.000-04:002013-04-27T23:14:15.817-04:00Is there a half step?Apparently I have a serious problem.<br />
<br />
I didn't realize it until just the other day. I mean, yeah, ok, I consume a little bit. Almost every day, but I can stop when I want to. I think.<br />
<br />
Oh, geez. Come to think of it, I probably can't just stop cold turkey.<br />
<br />
I guess it is a little bit of a problem.<br />
<br />
I'd never thought about being a legitimate chocoholic until a brief series of events over the past few days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PyF2vyYqvMM/UXyIV6KdG8I/AAAAAAAACDA/bmAxIp3MtIg/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PyF2vyYqvMM/UXyIV6KdG8I/AAAAAAAACDA/bmAxIp3MtIg/s1600/13+-+1" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Wednesday Angela asked me if my ears were ringing earlier that afternoon when she was talking about me to one of her classes. They weren't, but I was super flattered. I figured she was talking about what a great teacher I am. No. Not so much. She was telling them that while she enjoys chocolate, she's not sure she's ever met anyone who enjoys it quite as much as I do.<br />
<br />
She knows lots of people.<br />
<br />
Her comment was innocuous enough, but it got me thinking. Do I have a problem? I thought back to Friday night when my dear friend and former roommate came over for dinner. She never goes anywhere empty handed, so she arrived with gifts including chocolates The chocolates were because, "I know how my girl needs chocolate." Fast forward less than 12 hours to when my neighbor called me specifically to let me know that m&m's were on sale at target. Three bags for eight dollars.<br />
<br />
(And yes, I did go pick up three bags. You know, just in case.)<br />
<br />
I looked up the 12 step program. I'm not ready to admit that I'm powerless or that my life has become unmanageable. Just don't look at the parenthetical above this paragraph.<br />
<br />
About a year ago, Beau was in New Orleans for a class. While there, he stopped at <a href="http://www.shopsucre.com/candied-violet-chocolate-bar.html">Sucre</a> and picked up a couple of bars of chocolate for me. They looked good. So good I didn't want to eat them. So, they sat for a little while.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tf_KVlxq-g0/UXyIV8KB9II/AAAAAAAACC4/_mWACRzImYg/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tf_KVlxq-g0/UXyIV8KB9II/AAAAAAAACC4/_mWACRzImYg/s1600/13+-+2" /></a></div>
<br />
When I was in the hospital with Little Man, Beau brought one to me. It was the Candied Violet bar. It was easily the best chocolate I'd ever had. Now, the circumstances might have altered my impression of the Candied Violet bar, but I don't think so.<br />
<br />
I might enjoy chocolate a little more than I should. There are worse vices.<br />
<br />
What are you known for?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Photos borrowed from Sucre.)</span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-59889085285301575172013-04-12T23:29:00.003-04:002013-04-14T08:35:11.653-04:00Big changes for this girl My dad was a teacher at a community college for just shy of thirty years. He married a coworker, an English professor. When I was a teenager I'd see her grading papers for her classes and think she was absolutely insane. I distinctly remember saying (on more than one occasion) that I'd NEVER even consider being a teacher. And certainly not an English teacher.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1ioU3AYv5fE/UWjN36RdvuI/AAAAAAAAB-0/6CcCfQTm-jg/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1ioU3AYv5fE/UWjN36RdvuI/AAAAAAAAB-0/6CcCfQTm-jg/s320/13+-+2" width="252" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fast forward to college where I decided that teaching wouldn't be so bad, but there was no reason anyone in their right mind would choose to teach high school students. Right out of college I got hired at a high school that had a separate campus for ninth graders. That seemed doable since ninth graders couldn't be that much different from the eighth graders I'd just student taught. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I fell in love with it. The kids were interesting and challenging.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Two years later, I moved to Virginia and got hired at a 9-12th grade high school and was assigned both ninth and 12th grade classes. I was 24 years old and terrified.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They weren't so scary. They were kind of fun, receptive, smart, funny, (and yes, frustrating, lazy, snarky and cocky). I fell even more in love with my job. I knew I had found my calling and was at home in the classroom. I spent the next ten years there. And at the risk of sounding arrogant, I think I was pretty good at it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While I'm not noble by any stretch of the imagination, I feel that teaching is an absolutely noble calling. I proudly tell people I teach. I take my job very seriously and work very, very hard to be the very best teacher I can be. I have been guilty of putting my job before my personal life more than once.<br />
<br />
Today did something I never thought I would do. I officially and respectfully submitted my resignation. Looking back at <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2012/09/stay-at-home.html">this post</a>, I probably already knew that today was coming, but the part of me that lives to teach has been in denial. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rxx8AJOiB2A/UWjN35cCfuI/AAAAAAAAB-s/-KJKBrILFh0/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rxx8AJOiB2A/UWjN35cCfuI/AAAAAAAAB-s/-KJKBrILFh0/s320/13+-+1" width="235" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Last week human resources gave me the daunting task of either resigning or coming back to work "at the first available vacant position for which I am qualified." That language scared me. There are 11 high schools in my school system, 15 middle schools and an alternative school. I knew that my school didn't have a vacant position. I decided to resign. (The school really is that great.) And then Wednesday I got an email saying that my school had a part time position waiting for me if I wanted it.<br />
<br />
It was, for all intents and purposes, exactly what I wanted.<br />
<br />
Except it wasn't.<br />
<br />
And I decided to check the "I do not wish to return to a position at the end of my leave" box. <br />
<br />
That makes it sound like it was really easy. It wasn't. I hemmed and hawed and soul-searched until the last possible moment.<br />
<br />
The end result: I'm no longer a teacher. (OK, that's not true. I have a class I need to teach on Monday, so I should probably not be quite so melodramatic.) I'm no longer a high school teacher. Whoa. Short of a few community college classes here and there, my entire professional career has been in high schools. And now it isn't.<br />
<br />
While I'm a little bit dazed, I'm also completely confident that I have done what is right for our family. Today Little Man giggled as I chased him, he shoved food into his mouth with his meaty little hands and he stood on wobbly legs and moved his hips like Elvis. I got to see all of that. I'll get to watch him grow and change next year, too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WpTpiXcF6fk/UWjN30xxF2I/AAAAAAAAB-k/9-frhRRsUQ4/s1600/13+-+3" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WpTpiXcF6fk/UWjN30xxF2I/AAAAAAAAB-k/9-frhRRsUQ4/s320/13+-+3" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We're excited.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What changes are happening in your world?</div>
</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-6630055376987674252013-04-10T22:17:00.000-04:002013-04-10T22:17:43.173-04:00April Update- West VirginiaNot much is going on in West Virginia in terms of home improvement. March brought a ton of snow, which was awesome for the ski season, but not awesome for the outdoor construction we have planned. <br />
<br />
While Beau and I were there last we did a tiny bit of work on the inside of the house. (And by "we" I suppose I really mean Beau, because when I think about it I didn't actually have any part in this aside from perhaps making suggestions and sweeping up after him.)<br />
<br />
In <a href="http://croquetncocktails.blogspot.com/2013/02/finally-our-top-secret-secret-is-secret.html">this</a> post I showed you some of the finer selling points of the house. This picture was included.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0brdssB0MA/URMBElP4zpI/AAAAAAAABwg/9UzxRPo-CBk/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0brdssB0MA/URMBElP4zpI/AAAAAAAABwg/9UzxRPo-CBk/s320/13+-+1" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I know. You're jealous of the wall and probably wondering if I'll provide you with the number of the previous owner's decorator. Sorry, no can do. Oddly, this is not a trendy striped wall you'll find on Pinterest. Crazy it isn't there yet. You should pin it. <br />
<br />
The wall makes me want to barf. The great thing about the stripes is that the two levels of paint make bumps that will need to be sanded instead of just primed. Cool. Because the house wasn't going to be enough work already.<br />
<br />
We brought a sander, but didn't get around to sanding. Instead, I had Beau pull the runner up on the stairs so I could think about starting to sand them. Why, you ask? Well, the previous "decorator" painted them the darker shade of burgundy from the wall and I wanted to see if the gross runner being removed would make them less hideous or if I could stain them on top of the burgundy after a rough sand or something to avoid sanding them down completely.<br />
<br />
Guess what?<br />
<br />
Someone only painted as far as the runner covered.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yOTS_QpRBdA/UWToKBEx1iI/AAAAAAAAB9o/CWXO2HFVwBs/s1600/13+-+2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yOTS_QpRBdA/UWToKBEx1iI/AAAAAAAAB9o/CWXO2HFVwBs/s320/13+-+2" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QzHwFeTs3sk/UWToKHif65I/AAAAAAAAB9w/QKB_W39L8PQ/s1600/13+-+3" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QzHwFeTs3sk/UWToKHif65I/AAAAAAAAB9w/QKB_W39L8PQ/s320/13+-+3" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Who does that?<br />
<br />
I'm not sure I can sand enough of that pink/burgundy/mauve/ whatever off to make the stairs uniform enough to stain to a normal color. <br />
<br />
That's got to be one of the laziest home "improvement" projects ever. See previous comment about this being more work than originally expected. <br />
<br />
While Beau was pulling up carpet he decided to tackle the disgusting Berber in one of the bedrooms downstairs. Remember this room?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8MSIjiE8YnY/URMCGb4gotI/AAAAAAAABw4/F3XfgbajbnU/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8MSIjiE8YnY/URMCGb4gotI/AAAAAAAABw4/F3XfgbajbnU/s320/13+-+1" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
Can't you just smell those stains from where you're sitting? Ugh.<br />
<br />
Well, here's Beau hard at work. (And yes, I was tempted to burn the clothes he was wearing after he was crawling all over the carpeting.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pFjbHz7obFc/UWToKIfB0FI/AAAAAAAAB9g/WyCjHLMpL3Q/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pFjbHz7obFc/UWToKIfB0FI/AAAAAAAAB9g/WyCjHLMpL3Q/s320/13+-+1" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now we have three bedrooms with sub floor exposed. One more room to go.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So, while I don't have any actual progress to show you, I'm excited to say we are getting closer to being able to make some fun improvements that will make a big difference in the look of the house.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And by "make a difference in the look of the house" I mean we'll start to work on making it look inhabitable. You know, like, with floors and stuff. Odds are it won't happen in the near future because I have tons of other projects I'd like to tackle while the floors are yucky. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Painting the purple room something other than purple is one of those projects. Nothing says mountain cabin like a pale purple room. Am I right, or am I right?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Pop quiz: What would you do to make those stairs look like normal stairs? Beau says replace them. I think that sounds expensive. </div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7613188231426329551.post-90239779886931285452013-04-09T23:28:00.000-04:002013-04-09T23:28:59.369-04:00Maya & Me & MayaYou know that silly question about who you would dine with--dead or alive-- if you could dine with anyone? My answer is Maya Angelou*. It has been since I read <em>I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings</em> in high school. I fell into a deeply respectful, awed kind of love at first read. Then I read everything she's written. Multiple times.<br />
<br />
"Phenomenal Woman"? Empowering.<br />
<br />
"And Still I Rise"? Breathtaking.<br />
<br />
Those are just two of her poems. Her prose is just as painfully beautiful.<br />
<br />
Imagine my delight when I saw that there would be <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mom-Me-Maya-Angelou/dp/1400066115/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365563465&sr=8-1&keywords=me+%26+mom+%26+me">another autobiographical book</a> to add to her stunning collection. And it came out last week!!! Oh my great golly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq8s3fmL7-pxIw9RW-UzKdizu1fBf064_GY9HGrqjwaO9r5Xww2p5Pgy2pwlgUVnQUNQ1zJDegIq9WYqmywYQ5eHAMMhtWaOASchbPMB_INvUCKRzj48DhrUh0stZZPyfvbwPAQr7Cm03/s1600/me+mom+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZq8s3fmL7-pxIw9RW-UzKdizu1fBf064_GY9HGrqjwaO9r5Xww2p5Pgy2pwlgUVnQUNQ1zJDegIq9WYqmywYQ5eHAMMhtWaOASchbPMB_INvUCKRzj48DhrUh0stZZPyfvbwPAQr7Cm03/s1600/me+mom+me.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I read it in just over a day and I'm not entirely sure why I am just now blogging about it.<br />
<br />
I highly recommend it. Angelou discusses her relationship with her mother and a bit about becoming a mother herself. I could relate to it far more than I could have a year ago. Though I don't have nearly the experiences Angelou has had, I do now have a much deeper understanding of all that motherhood entails. No, that's not even remotely true. Let me rephrase: I have a much deeper understanding of <em>some </em>of what motherhood entails. When I'm 85 like Angelou I might be able to say I have a deeper understanding of all that motherhood entails.<br />
<br />
Anyway here's a passage I love: "She had my back and supported me. This is the role of the mother, and in that visit I really saw clearly, and for the first time, why a mother is really important. Not just because she feeds and also loves and cuddles and even mollycoddles a child, but because in an interesting and maybe an eerie and unworldly way, she stands in the gap. She stands between the unknown and the known."<br />
<br />
Just read that again. <br />
<br />
Seriously, do it. <br />
<br />
Lovely, isn't it?<br />
<br />
While this wasn't my favorite book by her, I did really enjoy it. She could probably write anything and I'd love it. I'm not picky. Or maybe she just always writes lovely things. <br />
<br />
Probably the latter. <br />
<br />
If you know me in real life you know it isn't the former. I'm pretty picky...<br />
<br />
Who would you want to have dinner with?<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* It is fortunate I've never been invited to dinner with Maya Angelou because I'd blubber like an idiot and embarrass myself. I'm not cool enough under pressure to survive dinner with someone like her (i.e. my "celebrity hero"). In fact, the thought of it actually happening makes me anxious. </span><br />
<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06927251202328214817noreply@blogger.com0