Reno Diaries: Part 4

Tags

family, home, home renovations, humour

November  18- Dear Diary,  Another gloomy weekend, or maybe that was just in the kitchen. When Handyman was installing the tile, which looks so nice, he had to pull the plug out and accidentally pulled off 2 wires. I don’t know when Dad will be able to get here to fix it. So with no light and no plug, it made cooking and baking a dismal task.

Last Friday morning, I made an emergency call to the pastor to see if he could pop over to help install our microwave. Fortunately, he was available only for the 40 minutes it would take, including driving.  The installation went well but the microwave moves every time you push a button. It’s super annoying and more than a little scary!

Since Handy man took some doors home with him, I got some of the trim painting done, but it required some creativity to reach all the nooks and crannies! Handyman has started installing the new built-in cupboards and counter. So excited to see it finally coming together!

November 19 – Dear Diary,  I sent my pa some snaps of the plug and hanging wires, which required standing on angles. I was not built to be in the circus, and yet I share a house with a number of strange characters. Me included.  Daddy you’re my only hope!

On the plus side, the grout is going in. I haven’t been this excited about mud since Mud Hero.  On the downside, it doubled my clean up at the end of the day just so I could cook dinner. Mud in the sink, all over the counters…even the floor.

We had yet another issue with door knobs & handles. Despite our careful consideration and adding up the numbers, more than once I might add, we ended up with 6 knobs too many…and 6 pulls too few. This required another trip to home depot.  I was in too big a hurry to even change out of my yoga pants. I knew right where to go (after the return counter) – aisle 21! But to my dismay, they only had 4 pulls left. I raced to customer service where 2 ladies stood waiting, to wait on some guy, who had gone looking for something. Apparently this guy was “hotter” than me in yoga pants, and I had to wait for 2 of them to finish waiting on 1 of him! They were less than friendly when they did get to me, and they couldn’t help me any way!

So I had to drive to the other Home Depot farther away. I burst through the doors like a woman on a mission, heading straight to aisle 21. But hardware was not in aisle 21. Fortunately I wasn’t far off, and there were oodles. I skipped to the car with my newfound bounty…this time, only an hour and a half of my life gone forever!

November 19 – Dear Diary, Hallelujah! A new day has done and a bright light shines in the darkness. It is the light over my sink. The broken plug is repaired. The microwave is shimmied. The grout is complete. The doors and knobs and pulls are all installed. Handyman is done! I have cupboards to clean and some painting to touch up. Simple. But the hard part now…is finding “homes” for all. this. stuff.

Old vs. New

PLUS… all new breakfast/baking bar!

Happy Weekend!

Reno Diaries: Part 2

Tags

home, home renovations, humour

November 2 – Dear Diary: Hubby and I went shopping to buy a microwave. I thought it would be a simple job: drive to Home Depot, pick one in our price range, and bring it home. How hard could it be?

First, a long discussion ensued whether to choose black or stainless steel. Since nothing else in the kitchen is stainless steel, and expecting it to be less popular and therefore cheaper, we chose black. Every microwave in Home Depot was stainless steel.

A Home Depot employee looked on the website for us, and could order one in black. It was more expensive than stainless, and came with a $69 delivery fee. Ouch! It couldn’t be delivered to the store and picked up…so another discussion ensued, and we decided to buy a stainless steel one. Did you know, dear diary, that the only microwaves in the store are the models? It would take at least a week for it to come in. We didn’t know if Handyman needed it on Monday. We politely declined, much to the annoyance of the employee, and headed to the hardware aisle, where we proceeded to discuss and fondle all the knobs and pulls, from simple to ostentatious. We got ridiculously giddy. The prices, however, were a shock. I cannot justify spending $300 on hardware alone, no matter how ridiculously good-looking they are. So I settled on a simple white ceramic knob to go with the simple white doors.  I purchased one for the whopping price of $1.99.

Julius Rock is proud of me!

We went to Canadian Tire. They only had stainless steel, and none of them were over-the-stove models. BUT while we were there, I took Hubby to look at dishes. Our everyday Corelle set was given to us in 1995. While every mug and saucer is intact, we only have 5 dinner plates. Which means if we everyone is home, we have to do dishes. Which means if we have guests, we have to flip a coin to see who doesn’t get to eat. Unless we eat in shifts.

There was a great assortment of colours and patterns. I was particularly attracted to a pale blue stoneware set. The only ones Hubby liked were white. Just white. Our plate-flipping-coin will have to stay in the kitchen a little longer. Discouraged, we set out for store #3…

I hate shopping at The Brick. As soon as we set foot in the store, a salesperson started stalking us. It was creepy. He stalked us to the microwave department, pointed to a couple of models but didn’t explain anything, then wandered off in search of better prey. We could get him if we needed help.

We wandered around, scrutinizing the varied features of these stainless steel models (no black). The deciding factor (apart from price) was very high-tech: how comfortable the handle feels when we open it. Then we started wandering to see find Mr. Salesperson. Mrs. Salesperson saw us searching and offered to help. She showed us a few models and checked on a sales one that we liked.

We had made our selection when Mr. Salesperson showed up, and started mouthing off to Mrs. Salesperson about “stealing his sale”. It was incredibly uncomfortable. We didn’t know if we should interject or just walk away. Before we decided, she walked away and Mr. Salesperson rang it up. We could pick it up 3 days. I paid. Mr. Salesperson couldn’t get the receipt to print, so he disappeared…for nearly 5 minutes. I was beginning to wonder if he’d split town with my payment and I was to end up with no microwave. Just a gaping hole over the stove. Eventually we left with a receipt, a small migraine, and a parting scowl from Mrs. Salesperson.

November 4 – Handyman said he was coming to apply the second coat of plaster, but he didn’t show up. Guess he forgot and he’s away the rest of the week. I got bored waiting, so went shopping for clothes for Little Guy. He’s now taller than me but I’m still 4 lbs heavier. I’m not sure I could take him in a fight, but I’m going to pretend I didn’t say that!

November 11 – Everyone has been sharing their kitchen renovation horror stories. I was thinking I was getting off pretty easy. Famous. Last. Words….

Wilderness Wednesday: Robin Condos

Tags

birds, black&white Photography, home, Photo Challenge, photography

The art of the bird is to conceal its nest both as to position and as to material, but now and then it is betrayed into weaving into its structure showy and bizarre bits of this or that, which give its secret away and which seem to violate all the traditions of its kind. – John Burroughs

Practice makes perfect. After a long time of practicing, our work will become natural, skillful, swift and steady. – Bruce Lee

 

Success is no accident. It is hard work, perseverance, learning, studying, sacrifice, and most of all, love… – Pele

Happy Wednesday!

This is my entry for Cee Neuner’s Black & White  Challenge for Lines/Angles.

CFF Challenge: Houses People Live In

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home, Photo Challenge, photography

May your home always be too small to hold all your friends. – Unknown

Happy Wednesday!

To check out other entries in Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Houses People Live In, click here.

Dear Child

Tags

children, cleaning, home, parenting

Dear child,

I know scrubbing the toilet is “gross”, (believe me, I know), but no more gross than the “gift” you left me in your rush to get back to your video game. Just be thankful that I had cleaned the toilet on the weekend (especially after your brother threw up), and that we haven’t had “chili night” in a long time.

I could have been worse. When your brother developed a habit of “picking and flicking” (I think he was bored) and I got sick of cleaning up after him, I made him clean the whole bathroom. Armed with a toilet brush, a sponge, and a toothbrush. I’m talking the tub, sink and toilet. The taps. The floor. The walls. Even the light fixture. There was no merciful pre-cleaning done for his benefit. We may have even had chili that week (Dad did all the cooking at the time). I don’t remember. I just know it cured the habit.

What you choose to do (or need to do) in the bathroom is your business (unless it involves drugs or a girl).

Bathroom Art, circa 2011

Life is messy and full of distractions. But heed this warning: if I am assaulted by any more ” O Henry bars”, you will be scrubbing much more than the porcelain, and I will feed your father chili first.

Love Mom

That which does not kill us makes us stronger. – Friedrich Nietzsche

Happy Wednesday!

Wilderness Wednesday: The Woodpile

Tags

black&white Photography, home, nature, photography

It was a cord of maple, cut and split and piled—and measured, four by four by eight.

And not another like it could I see.

No runner tracks in this year’s snow looped near it.

And it was older sure than this year’s cutting,

Or even last year’s or the year’s before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wood was gray and the bark warping off it

And the pile somewhat sunken…

I thought that only

Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks

Could so forget his handiwork on which

He spent himself, the labor of his ax,

And leave it there far from a useful fireplace

To warm the frozen swamp as best it could

With the slow smokeless burning of decay.

– Robert Frost

Happy Wednesday!

So happy together?

Tags

#menopausehumour, home, humour, sleep

My bed. I used to be in love with you. We’d spend hours together on Saturday morning ignoring the world outside. When I didn’t feel well, when I was sad, when I was lonely, you were always there for me. We’d dream of distant places and lost loves, of adventure and chocolate! Before we’d even said goodbye for the day, I’d miss you. I would spend my waking hours longing for the moment when you’d embrace me again.

We were perfect for each other.

But I’ve changed, and it’s tearing me apart.

When I look at you, I desperately want it to be like it once was. Just you and me. You’ve got to believe me. Every night I hope that tonight will be like it once was, but it never is.

I wake up in the middle of the night and I can’t get back to sleep, and though you are holding me, it doesn’t feel right. My body aches in places because it’s not fitting right, so I toss and turn. The blankets are twisted around me and I feel trapped.

Or worse, I’m so blessed hot I feel like I’m going to melt right through you until I’m only a puddle underneath you. As if catching on fire during the day isn’t enough. And you! You just lie there. You promise escape and sweet release, but instead I find myself caught in a nightmare in the dark. Alone.

I used to consider the alarm clock a jealous whore because it was always trying to break us up. But lately, I find myself awake and waiting for it to sing to me. I stay up too late, avoiding that moment when bliss becomes Blah.  In the morning, I cling to you until the last second, but I don’t find the joy in our time together.

I’m sorry.

Colin Powell says “A dream doesn’t become a reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work”. I’ve got the sweat covered, and I’m determined and willing to make us work again. Are you willing to work hard to get us back to where we once were, because I still love you, you know. In fact, let’s start today. I’m committed and willing to do whatever it takes, day and night, all weekend long. Our relationship means that much to me. I want to sleep with you tonight and wake up next to you. I want to cuddle with you right now. What do you say?

Me and you and you and me
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together

Happy Together, The Turtles, Written by Alan Gordon, Garry Bonner • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Carlin America Inc, BMG Rights Management US, LLC

Dear Santa…

Tags

Christmas, home, humour, Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I would like a plumber for Christmas, one who is affordable, knowledgeable and knows how to use a belt. It has been nearly 4 weeks since Hubby took the bathroom sink apart to “see what was the matter” only to discover that the drain was cracked and another important pipe was disintegrating.

Hubby is wise. He is very handy around the house but also knows his limitations. He knows that this home renovation, like so many before it, will only get worse and grow bigger the further he gets into it. Also, he has a broken toe.

It took us a remarkably short time to find a new vanity and sink since we couldn’t get an existing top in the tiny size we needed. Our 1960’s bathroom was not built for 2! In the interim, we are using our bath tub to wash our hands and brush our teeth. Once Hubby removed the old vanity, he removed the temptation to spit in the existing sink (for which I am very grateful! Now if I could  only remember to remove the hair trap in the tub before we spit…)

I am asking for a plumber who can fix the pipe and install the new vanity and taps so I may once again enjoy the luxury of not having to bend over and aim at the same time, as well as wash my delicates in something other than a pink plastic bowl. I’m also going to greedy and ask that this plumber take a look at our toilet too. I’m not a gambler and the 50% of it actually flushing (especially when you desperately want to eliminate noxious-producing substances) is wreaking havoc with my nerves (which in turn wreak havoc with my body, which in turn creates more noxious substances, etc.) Also, it doesn’t always want to stop running…and that long-tired sigh it makes when the tank is full is growing louder and longer. While I appreciate the sentiment, it is unnerving.

I’ve lived this long with the sea foam green bath tub and the salmon tiles, not to mention that incredibly tight spaces and lack of storage – don’t you think I’ve suffered enough (see photo below)?

Just a plumber, please, and I’ll even be reasonable…a plumber…before Christmas  2016!

Sincerely,

Jenn

Photo 101: Big

Tags

home, photo 101, Photo Challenge, PHOTO101, photography

I ventured into the rain and waited patiently across the road for the lights to hold the traffic back so I could photograph this little house. I think it retains its warmth and charm, despite the big building going up beside it!

“…love grows best in little houses / With fewer walls to separate
and if we had more room between us, think of all we’d miss
Love grows best, in houses just like this.”

“Little Houses” Songwriters: CATES, MICKEY / EWING II, DONALD
Published by: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, SUSSMAN & ASSOCIATES

Photo 101: Connections

Tags

blogging U, family, home, parent, photo 101, Photo Challenge, PHOTO101, photography

“While Hubby is away, this mouse will…tackle some small home reno projects with her parents”. We spent the whole weekend connecting over good food and silly jokes. We browsed the aisles of Home Depot by day, and watched Game of Thrones by night. No one connected any paintbrushes with the floor or their thumbs with any hammers! I finally have my kitchen ceiling painted (2 years after I started this painting project). Best of all, Little Guy will have memories of working with his grandparents to transform his space into his space!

I experimented with camera settings, angles, and lighting some time between working hard and hardly working!

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” – Marc Chagall