This D*mn House

Desiderata

2012-01-23T07:37:00.003-06:00

“And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” – Max Ehrmann, Desiderata

I am, by both propensity and profession, a writer.

D*mn, it felt good to type that … and for that, I owe thanks to Morgan Freeman. (Yes, the actor.) I thank him for reminding me that bad, good or indifferent, that is what I am. I should neither profane it nor profess it begrudgingly.

Freeman was on Oprah’s “Master Class” last night, one of her new shows on her OWN network. I have always liked Freeman. I remember him from The Electric Company. Rather humble beginnings for such an incredible performer … but there you have it. Unlike so many who hit it big, he remembers it, too.

I knew I would enjoy this interview; I just didn’t know how much. As a writer, I am, by nature, a storyteller. I love hearing other people’s stories and, for much of my life, have relished the opportunities I’ve had to share them with others in my own personalized way.

At one point, I could have sworn that Freeman was speaking directly to me. The introductory subtitles on some of his lessons, struck me that much.
· Nurture your natural gifts.
· Keep your principles.
· Follow your muse.
· Listen to others.

And I’m sure there were one or two others I found just as relevant but that are escaping me in my sleep-deprived state. But those were pretty awe-inspiring for me as they were each paired with some of his personal experiences. One of my favorite anecdotes from the interview was when he lost a job as a clerk/typist and, by virtue of being on unemployment, was obligated to go out and look for new work as a clerk/typist. During one of his meetings with an unemployment counselor, he explained that he just couldn’t justify continuing to seek work as a clerk typist. “I am an actor,” he boldly pronounced to Mrs. Lipton. (He even remembered her name.) She approved his extension with: “You’ve got six months. Go be an actor.”

And he did.

For everything in his life, every decision, opportunity or setback, Freeman attributes it to providence. He referred to a poem, Desiderata, -- Latin for “desired things” -- that I had never heard of, but that I now know I will never forget. (You really should go and read it. Trust me – it will be worth it.)

Something Freeman didn’t mention, and may not even know, though I bet he does, is that Max Ehrmann, the man who wrote that poem, seemed to have a hard time finding his own niche. “At age 40, Ehrmann left the business to write. At age 54, he wrote Desiderata, which achieved fame only after his death.” (Wikipedia)

It took about 45 years between the time the poem was written (1927) before it joined the mainstream. (1971-72). Makes me think all the harder that I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up … and go be it.

So far, so good

2012-01-14T09:57:00.002-06:00

Crazy ... I haven't even blogged yet and this year is two weeks old!

It's been a busy time. Things have gotten off to a good start. In fact, here I am at my scrapbooking weekend. Needing to go and get coffee, but otherwise GREAT! Fun times, great folks and laughing, laughing, laughing. There can never be too much of that.

So, here's to a fabulous weekend. Excuse me while I get back to it ...

Out with the Old

2011-12-31T01:30:00.005-06:00

It's too easy to take potshots at 2011. It is a year that, while not my worst, and while considerably good by the standards of the less fortunate, will go down as infinitely less than a stellar one.

The year saw fit to meddle with (in chronological order) my car, my dog, my job, my family. It affected almost everything I hold dear. Almost.

With the exceptions of my immediate family and closest friends, 2011 did its damnedest to slime my life.

Fate seemed to forget something though. I'm a stubborn sumb*tch. I can take a punch. In fact, I can take quite a pummeling. I may fall down. I may even stay down for a while. On the way back up, I may have to crawl a bit. I may stumble. And for a time, I may be less than steady on my feet.

But in the end, I will get up. I always have. I always will.

So, go ahead 2011. Trifle with me if you must, while you can. Your hours are numbered.

And yet, here I stand. Maybe a little unsure of my next step but vertical just the same. While my stance is uncertain, my resolve is not. It is as strong as it has ever been. With it, two words are poised on my lips, poised to greet the year that will soon make its appearance: "Bring it."

Take heed, 2012. Take heed.

The Winter Project

2011-12-27T05:34:00.001-06:00

In one of my most recent posts, I alluded to a landscaping project ...

I had wanted to start this project toward the end of summer. But it seemed like something was always happening to postpone it. I couldn't have imagined that I'd be working on it in DECEMBER! But there I was.

After months on and off of collecting bricks, I was putting them into the ground in an attempt to rein in the quarries of white marble chip that surround three sides of the house and regularly end up all over the yard. I thought it might also add a little shot of color around the house.

I FINALLY started Thanksgiving weekend. And while it's straightforward work, certainly not rocket science, it was a very time-consuming task. And Mother Nature kept challenging me to get it done. Right after I started, we got hit with a string of days with highs in the 40s and winds almost that high. Then, we had a couple days with highs in or near the 60s, so I got my silly self moving at top speed.

It wasn't too hard, considering I was still working with a messed-up left hand. But, it did require some elbow grease, a few adjustments to allow for my injury and LOTS of patience. The biggest challenge was dealing with all the decades of rock I was hitting as I attempted to dig up weed-filled dirt, create a small trench, line it with plastic and then put down each brick.

Finally, last weekend, I got it finished. Well, all but the back yard. I got the sides and front done. Now we just need to add some rock, straighten out the brick bases in the rock and get the trees out.

Even though it's not completely done, I think it looks pretty good. Here's a look.

Merry Birthday!

2011-12-26T23:20:00.002-06:00

Here's hoping that everyone had a great holiday yesterday and that today (Dec. 26), the MonkeyGirl had a fabulous birthday.

It's been a very lazy day for me. Other than braving Wal-Mart, a grocery store and Michael's this afternoon, I haven't done a whole lot. (Believe me when I say that was quite enough!) I made it home ahead of some sleet and it's done nothing but rain ever since. Really wishing it would stop as it has saturated my poor bones, including my still-healing hand, making all of them ache.

I did take a vacation day on Tuesday (thank God!) so that means I don't wake to a pre-dawn alarm. Yippee!! While tomorrow won't be as lazy as today, I'm hoping it WILL still be a slow one. We were pretty busy around here from Thursday through yesterday so the quiet, easy pace will certainly be a welcome one.

Back to Monday

2011-12-19T13:01:00.000-06:00

It was a busy and productive weekend.

Saturday was sunny and created the deception of warmth. While the temp supposedly reached 45, with the associated wind, the wind chill factor made it feel like 39!
If you’re me, that’s at least 15 degrees below “passable” work outside temps!

Yesterday was infinitely better. While there wasn’t much sun, the wind was mostly quiet until just before sunset and it hit the upper 50s. YAY! Much more conducive to working outside for a solid EIGHT HOURS. I am sore and tired today but I got some nice landscaping nearly done AND I got the yard mowed and a lot of leaves picked up. (I’d share a photo so you could see my latest project, but it’s raining.) We also needed to get some rock down and some trees out but that just didn’t happen. We’ll have to see if Mother Nature gives us another decent day to wrap things up out there.

Meanwhile, things are progressing inside, too, though much more slowly. The mother has been doing the “deep” cleaning of everything in addition to unboxing kitchen stuff. It’s beginning to resemble a house again! Don’t think I can ask for too much more for Christmas than that. (Except maybe a decent-paying, centrally-located, full-time job. Maybe even one that I could be passionate and truly feel good about. Or else just win MegaMillions tomorrow night. That would work, too … )

Albert, Androids and Apple

2011-12-09T17:40:00.002-06:00

It's been an interesting few days. First, after early-morning rumblings to the contrary, we learned that Albert Pujols was leaving the Cardinals.

It sucks, but it is what it is. The Cardinals will be fine. Really.

Then, I started getting emails about stuff I downloaded from Apple iTunes. Wait. WHAT?! (I hadn't purchased anything since September!) Some asshat decided it would be fun to hack and raid my account. They got my store credit (somewhere around $12) and another $70 or so from PayPal. PayPal was awesome. They were on it and reaching out to Apple post-haste. Apple? Not so much. Apparently, you can't talk to anyone to fix your woes with them.

I was relieved to find out that my iTunes account was shutdown temporarily. But, what if I need/want to use it? I'm in the resolution process now but told it could take "several days." We'll see how that goes.

And then, there's the Android. Yep, I am the proud owner of a tablet. (Not an iPad.) I bought an IdeaPad. Thanks to a new addition as of this very afternoon (a compatible portable keyboard which WILL fit in the bag with it) I am LOVING this thing. I think it's going to do just what I need it to. Just as soon as I can figure out how to copy and paste ...

A Month of Mourning

2011-12-03T08:11:00.003-06:00

It's hard to turn down a "command" performance. So, OK, Karen Anne, I'm speaking!

And the first thing I want to say is thank you again. As I told a group of my "realtime" nearest and dearest yesterday, the last few months have not been exactly stellar ones for me. It started on July 21, in the hours before my birthday, and just went to hell from there.

I'm grateful for the glimmers of good fortune and goodwill that have managed to shine through despite it all, especially the kindness of those on the blog. Some of those glimmers have kept me pretty busy. That's a good thing as they have allowed me to replace, at least temporarily, almost all of my lost income. While one of those opportunities will likely go away soon, I'm hoping to quickly replace it with another. Wish me luck. In the meantime, I still have another ongoing opportunity that has allowed me to revisit my journalism career. (Between you and me, I rather like it!)

A special shout-out to the MonkeyGirl is in order, and to Mr. Monkeygirl, too. See, she "kidnapped" me a few weekends ago for a scrapbooking event. Got me away from the house and away from what seems to be a constant cycle of work (I'm not complaining, really!) for about 36 hours. It was a fabulous respite and a nice prelude to our annual scrapbooking pilgrimage which is now less than six weeks away! (And while MG had been traveling quite a bit in the weeks leading up to our recent adventure, I'm grateful to Mr. MG for sparing his best girl during her brief time back home.)

You might notice, too, that some new advertisements have popped up. I'm equally grateful for those. (More on that in a separate post.)

So, it hasn't been all bad. Not by a longshot. Just incredibly hard. Things have been further complicated by an injury to my left hand (1 broken finger, 1 bruised finger and some joint and ligament damage in my hand). Sometimes I just get really sick of the struggle. Can't ANYTHING be easy? Ever? And then come reminders of just how bad I don't have it. This year, that reminder has come in the forms of about nearly 50 people, the people our charity program at work will be helping after "adopting" them for the holidays.

These are people whose entire lives, in most cases, have been a string of tragedy, hardship and pain. Mine hasn't been all rosy but it's surely been a cakewalk by comparison. I'm grateful then to not only have been thusly spared but to be given the chance to have an impact on their lives, albeit a very brief and small one.

I allowed myself to wallow a bit last month and provided myself with a bit of a pity party. No more. (Well, outside the occasional overwhelming sense of loss of Ozzie. I miss him terribly!)

I've been thinking a lot lately (drives and train rides tend to give you that opportunity) about what's next. Where do I go from here? I wish I knew just what that answer was. It's a huge uncertainty. I like to think though that also means there are myriad possibilities. Surely something good has to come from that. Right?

New Year's Eve will be particularly meaningful this year as I can't wait to kick this year to the curb and get to the blank canvas that is 2012.

General Weirdness

2011-11-09T01:14:00.002-06:00

It's been two weeks. Two weeks.

I've been silent but I haven't really had much to say. Ozzie's absence has been felt acutely. Each day I seem to find myself expecting to see him turn the corner between rooms. Sometimes, I swear I hear him as I enter the house. It's going to take a lot of getting used to, this post-Ozzie world.

A lot.

The one thing I do have to say is a huge THANK YOU for all of the support during this phase of general weirdness. It has helped immensely and means so much.

Thievery!

2011-10-27T12:10:00.002-05:00

It’s a sad state of affairs when you can’t leave something in your front yard without someone having the gonads to come onto your property and take it. But, that’s what happened last Saturday.

You may recall that I recently sealed the driveway again (watch for some product reviews to come). When I finished, I took my two sawhorses (metal, with legs that fold up into the base) out and put one at each of the driveway. I was a little concerned about the one at the edge of the alley. We have junkmen who drive up and down the alleys all the time and then there are mischievous kids who like to occasionally destroy property out back.

I had them up all last week and I had both cars parked in the yard. On Friday, I had Pearl washed so I wasn’t pulling a dirty car onto my nice, freshly painted driveway. When I got home mid-afternoon, there was no traffic coming, so I was able to stay on the four-lane roadway long enough to jump out and put the sawhorse into the front yard before bringing Pearl through.
I left the one in place out back and didn’t think any more about either one on Friday, planning to deal with it over the weekend.

When I came out of the house shortly before noon Saturday, the sawhorse at the alley was still in place. As I backed out of the driveway to run some errands, I discovered that that the sawhorse I’d put in the front yard less than 24 hours earlier – and which had still been there as recently as 12 hours before – was gone. Seriously?

It had to be scrappers. And why they took the one OUT OF MY YARD and left the one that was at the edge of the alley is beyond me. They physically had to walk at least 3 feet onto my property to do this.

It's not that it's a major loss, as frankly, I've been planning to replace them anyway. It is, however, sad commentary on just how brazen people are today.

Saying Goodbye to the Moose

2011-10-26T07:42:00.012-05:00

During the past few months, I’ve become accustomed to being awakened by a breathing alarm clock, emitting either a solid series of barks or a shrill, urgent yipe.

This morning, neither these sounds nor the digital alarm clock stirred me. I awakened to silence, five minutes ahead of the alarm.

As I’ve also become accustomed to doing, I padded the short distance to the kitchen where Ozzie has been camping for the night because the medication makes him both hungry and in need of constant potty breaks. The mother has the 2:30 a.m. (or so) feeding covered; potty pads take care of the rest.

But today, the clack of claws and low, rolling grunt of a greeting are not there. Instead, there is only an empty bed laying against the bank of cabinets. And that’s when the reality of all hits me like a freight train.

My boy is gone.

Yesterday was the day that I have long dreaded and yet known was coming since July. We had to let Ozzie go. The lymphoma had taken over. And while he was a super trooper, with new tumors appearing externally on a daily basis, I couldn’t relinquish him. He was still mobile and able to eat and anxious to be a part of everything around him.

Hell, two weeks ago, he dropped a squeaky toy at my feet!!! Unless you knew – or touched his tumor-riddled back or throat – you would never believe this dog was sick. In just the past week, it had become more visually obvious: tumors began to cover the top of his head.

On Monday, that tide started to turn. The mother, who has long been an opponent of euthanasia, began to soften to the notion. That was my first sign. There was also a noticeable shift in Ozzie’s behavior. A look in his eyes that went beyond tired, or even exhausted. It was more of a resignation. We decided that I should call and make an appointment yesterday. I did so with a great deal of reluctance, hanging up at least three times before finally waiting long enough for someone to answer. When he didn't eat yesterday morning (this dog NEVER missed a meal), that was confirmation enough for me.

It was ironic. Here I was trying so hard to hang onto a dog that initially, I had not even wanted.

We were less than a week past the loss of our first Yorkie in 1997. That occasion had marked the first time I’d ever had to put down an animal, despite having lost scores of them through the years. I had decided that day in the vet’s office that I never wanted another dog. So, it was not surprising when, by the end of that week, I balked when the mother wanted to “go look” at puppies. That Saturday morning though, I was in for a huge surprise.

When the alleged breeder (who was licensed, but horrible) first asked me, “Do you want to hold him?” all I could think was how that spastic little puppy, then 11 weeks old, was going to be a wiggle worm. Yet the second she handed him to me, he stopped moving. Before I could hold him at arm’s length (to avoid all of this puppy nonsense), he had nestled in the crook of my arm and gently flopped his head against my shoulder. “Are you lovey?” I asked this little 3-pound furball – and he promptly reached up and licked my cheek.

I was toast. There was no way I could leave him there. It was as if he knew that I was the one he had to win over. And he did. And while all of the animals I’ve ever had (with the possible exception of my childhood cat) have loved me, but always gravitated to the mother – her being something of a Dr. Doolittle – Ozzie was indelibly mine.

For much of the last 14 years, his was the first face I would see in the morning and the last I would see at night.
His face, pressed against the full-view storm door, would greet me most nights, a chaotic barking fit and happy dance to follow. He had a continual flow of energy and was my constant, ever curious, companion no matter what I was doing. Hey … whatcha got? Show me! Can I eat? Can I play with it? Where you goin?! Come back here! Nevermind. I'll come with ya.

One of many nicknames – though the most consistently used – was Moosie. (I had dubbed him “the moose” because he had grown so much in his first year, I was convinced we would have the world’s first 40-pound Yorkie. He actually got up to more than 16 pounds. I used to tell him that he was TWO standard Yorkies!) I never had children but I always joke that I have three "babies:" My boys (Oz and Toby the Cat) have fur; my girl (Pearl) has wheels.

But now, the Moo-Man is gone from my life. That is a fact. Yet, with an equal degree of certainty, I know that he will never leave my heart.

The Driveway Debacle

2011-10-24T08:10:00.002-05:00

During many afternoons in the past few weeks, I diligently repaired the driveway in preparation for sealing. Hard to believe, but it has already been THREE YEARS since the last time!

Rain and/or temperature drops and/or abbreviated daylight hours impeded my progress. I finally finished early last week. Or so I thought. (But more on that later … plus product reviews!)
Anyway, the driveway is now done except for a bit of touch-up work.

I wasn’t going to seal the driveway this year – only patch it. But, an unfortunate coincidence found me with all the supplies, a gorgeous fall day and an ill mother. Between her condition – and Ozzie’s continually deteriorating one – I couldn’t leave them, even though I was supposed to be going (with a nod to my good friend, KayO, on “supposed to”) to Croptoberfest a week ago Saturday and scrapbooking with my friends all day. I was bummed. I didn’t want to work at my online job. I couldn’t sleep. But wanting the two of them to rest, I needed to be quiet. Driveway sealing was a “quiet” job and it would accomplish something.

It was a nice day. I was able to start pretty quickly. About an hour into my work, two squirrels ran through the area I’d just finished. If it had been a few minutes longer, I doubt they’d have had an impact. But since I had just coated that area, there were their little pawprints popping through as the drying process began. D*MN! So, I rolled over the area again and went on about my work.

An hour or two later, a couple with a stroller – and a HUGE dog on a leash, in tow – walked by. The dog had a lot of leeway and as they walked by the drive, the dog bounded from our yard and into the driveway. While it scattered leaves and other debris, it didn’t do anything else. WHEW!!!
The true scare of the day came as I was approaching the halfway mark and the afternoon was winding down. It came in the form of a huge flatbed truck, hauling a completely-assembled, cottage-style storage shed. The truck roared up onto the sidewalk and all but pulled into the driveway, stopping short by a few mere inches. I dropped my roller and wildly waved my arms, all the while yelling, “NOOOOOOOO!” as I ran toward the truck.

The driver looked at me sheepishly and came to a halt on the sidewalk. My neighbors, mortified, were now standing at the edge of their driveway. “Any other day, guys. Any other day!” I yelled across to them. I would have gladly let the truck pull in so it could back into their yard – just not on my freshly-sealed driveway!

Another potential disaster averted! But then … the rain came and brought plummeting temps along. And it rained. And rained. And rained. And it barely got above 50.

I can already see a few patches where standing water took a bit of a toll. (After closer inspection over the weekend, doesn’t look too bad at all. I hadn’t yet done my touch-up! I have to that this afternoon so it has another day or – in 70-degree temps, thankyouverymuch – to get good and dry.

Feeling Disorganized?

2011-10-21T08:53:00.001-05:00

I know I am!

Lately, life has been one spiraling ball of confusion, though, not all of it has been bad. But while I generally thrive within chaos, it's been exhausting -- even I’m ready to wave a white flag.

Apparently, it was Get Organized Week earlier this month. Who knew?!

Well, Emma did. She wrote to let me know that she had put up 50 blog links in honor of getting organized – and that This D*mn House was among them. We were included in a list of 10 DIY-related blogs. Thanks for the honor.

So, if you’re feeling disorganized, go check out the list. You might find something to help. I know I’ve found some good sites already.

Tuesday ToolTalk: EasyCanvasPrints.com

2011-10-18T00:40:00.008-05:00

Technically, a canvas print isn’t a tool. It is, however, a great way to turn one of your original photos into a piece of art. (Never let it be said that at This D*mn House, we don’t talk about a multitude of ways to decorate your walls.)

I love photos. I love art work. I love Ozzie. So being asked try a free canvas print for a chance to combine all of these loves in a single product was a classic “Godfather” offer – one I couldn’t refuse. Thanks to Brendan at EasyCanvasPrints.com for extending this offer. (You can go to the website OR click on the image icon in the right-hand margin.)

This easy, five-step process moves quickly and offers coaching from beginning to end. The only thing they don’t help you with – and what ended up being the most difficult step for me – was choosing the photo to use. Otherwise, I was done within minutes.

I think it is fabulous – and a wonderful way to immortalize a happy and healthy Ozzie! (This is an 8x10; eerily, it's not that much smaller than real life. The fancy hanging hook is not included, though the print came with a picture hanger mounted to the back.)

The mother was thrilled, too, and is mulling photo options to have one done of Toby eventually.In a nutshell, here’s the process:
Pick your size. (There's a great variety, starting at 8x8, and including 8x10, 11x14 and additional standard and custom sizes.) Then,

Load your photo.

Make sure all of the image you want to capture fits into the designated box.

Choose a border – or not.

Put in your payment/shipping info.

Done. Just like that, you’ve created a masterpiece! What a wonderful, personalized piece of art for your home or to use as a gift. (The holidays are coming.)

Here are a few things to consider and/or do before you go to place your order.

Think about how you want to display the finished product. Let that location guide your size choice.

Easy Canvas Prints accepts PNG, JPG, EPS, BMP and TIF files up to 20MB. Choose the highest resolution version of your image possible. (During the process, the system will analyze your uploaded photo and will let you know whether its quality is good enough to replicate.)

If you don’t have an image of your own but could use something new for your walls, they have a gallery of images that you can pick from, too.

So, visit EasyCanvasprints.com. And while you're there, sign up to get great offers by email.

(Full Disclosure: Earlier this year, I accepted an offer from EasyCanvasPrints.com to try a free 8x10 or smaller canvas print or deduct the equivalent value from a larger size. As a result, I received the product described above for evaluation for free. I did not receive any additional compensation for participating in this program.)

Awaking from the Silence

2011-10-17T07:00:00.002-05:00

Hi. Remember me?

Just because the blog's been quiet, doesn't mean that things have been quiet at This D*mn House at all. In fact, that's the largest hunk of the reason why the blog has gone so dark lately. I've been trying to eke out every second of the good weather we've been having because I know it's destined to end all too soon. Today, in fact. *sigh*

That said, I'll be back this week with lots of news, photos and PRODUCT REVIEWS.

Hope you'll stay tuned.

Homeless in St. Louis

2011-10-07T07:11:00.003-05:00

I frequently write about the beauty of downtown, the skyscrapers lined with incredible architectural features. Unfortunately, at ground level, some of the sights are not so exhilirating.

The pre-dawn hours in downtown St. Louis are when you are most likely to smell them. The odor of urine permeates the air outside the parking garages where many go to relieve themselves. Occasionally, this odor is masked by bleach that some poor worker was tasked with applying.

In the pre-dawn hours, you are most likely to see them -- in their entirety. They are sprawled on street corners, laying beneath overhangs, tucked into doorways, lining several feet of sidewalk. They are the homeless. They are innumerable.

Most of them have luggage now, not something I remember seeing in my youth. I frequently see them as they pack up for the day, stuffing blankets or sleeping bags into plastic bags, lashing the contents to a rolling suitcase or duffel. For the early commuters like me, this is regular morning sight.

But, every once in a while, something takes me aback. That happened this morning, when, from across the street, I spied this scene.

I couldn't help myself; I pulled out the camera. It had to be captured and I had to share it.

Of course, not 50 yards away from this scene, people were in a queue to buy $5 coffees. As I snapped a few photos, I watched a handful of people walk by without really taking in this scene. To me, it's a sad commentary on what this country has become ... and what it will continue to devolve to if we allow it.

If more people took the "There but for the grace of God" approach to the economy, I can't help but think how much greater a place we'd all call home. I've been feeling a little sorry for myself this week.

Now, I'm just ashamed.

A Day Away

2011-09-29T06:46:00.002-05:00

I know I've been away a lot longer than a day ... but yesterday was my "escape it all" afternoon.

I should have been at home, plugging away at a freelance project I'm wrapping up and at my other part-time job I managed to secure last month. But I wasn't. The mother and I went to exercise a little retail therapy.

Instead, we spent a few hours away from windows, caulk, paint and bricks and online employment, and mostly ... the inevitability of death. (Which, BTW, THANK YOU to everyone for the kind words and prayers and thoughts. They really do mean a lot.)

I did buy a few things. Nothing out of line. (It was a celebration of sorts, having collected my first significant money as a freelancer. An almost as big payment should be coming soon, too!)

But just browsing the aisles of a scrapbooking store (making mental notes of things to check online for that I'm sure I could score a few bucks cheaper) felt fabulous. And using coupons to get dollars off and finding a few "clearance" items on the shelves was great, too. And splurging a couple of dollars on things I didn't expect to find (single sheets of Graphic 45 vintage papers) was like slugging down a Margarita.

So, I got my break. Now, it's back into the mix of everything with both feet! I have all kinds of house things to write about. (That will have to wait until the freelance project is done.)

Thanks for hangin' with me as my world continues on in this weird loop-de-loop pattern ...

Ends … and Beginnings

2011-09-15T06:59:00.001-05:00

I haven’t written in a while. Suffice it to say that I’ve had a lot on my mind and that I’ve got even more on my plate.

Things continue to deteriorate with Ozzie. He is in remarkably good shape considering that each and every day brings the discovery of a new tumor or of a new gland that has swelled. He continues to eat like a dog three times his size (and would eat more if we’d give it to him, but I’m afraid overloading his system would negate the ground that he has, so far at least, managed to hang onto.

So, watching that part of life has been incredibly hard. And I’ve had plenty of time to prepare myself for the idea that it is only going to get a lot harder.

Summer has had its unofficial end (Labor Day) and the official one is just around the corner. Mother Nature has reminded us of this by plunging us into the 40s. Brrrrrrr…

Today also brings a new end for me. One that I am much less prepared for, but making it work just the same. Today is the last day, for now at least, that I have a full-time job. I go part-time starting tomorrow. I’m not happy about it, but have made my peace with it. Let’s just leave it at that.

I’ve explored a variety of interim options, none of them ideal, but at least they’re options, right?

It’s been a humbling, and at times demeaning, experience to see just what some people are willing to offer for work – and what some are willing to accept. Writers really are a dime a dozen anymore. In fact, that may be overstating the price considering that one “offer” paid $1.50 for a 500-word article. If you calculate the time to do the research, to write, to edit for the “perfect grammar” this offer demanded, I made a lot more money as a 15-year-old earning 1980s-era minimum wage. I politely declined.

But, in some respects, I’ve been very lucky and snagged a few gigs that aren’t dehumanizing, that are, in fact, reasonable. Rest assured, I’ve welcomed them with both hands. It’s meant going both night and day most of the time but I’ve never been one to shy away from hard work or to ever back down from a worthwhile fight.

While it has been tough to do so (optimism has never been one of my strong suits), I’m keeping the faith that the next new beginning is out there, circling, just waiting to land. And, I’m not sitting at home, waiting for news of its arrival. Oh, no. As soon as it dips beneath the clouds and into my view, I’ll be waiting. With a lasso. Or maybe a ladder.

Or maybe standing on the tarmac, waving it in, ready to climb aboard …

A Hammer, a Ladder and a Coupla Nails

2011-08-31T04:44:00.000-05:00

I hadn’t even set my stuff down yet when I heard the mother from the next room: “We need to go help R,” she said. (R is the husband in the couple who live next door. They are a few years older than the mother. R has been battling cancer for quite some time. He’s a shadow of the robust guy he once was and now relies heavily on a cane.

I was almost afraid to ask why, but I needn’t have worried; the mother quickly answered the question without my asking. “The fascia on the front of the house is hanging off and he is having a fit,” she said. “I told him you could probably fix it.”

"I’m not sure why I was the candidate to repair it, but I agreed to change clothes and go look at it.

On Monday night, I’d borrowed an 8-foot stepladder from my neighbor since the mother has such a hard time using my 17-foot multi-extension Werner. Since the borrowed ladder was handy, I carted it over first. Its height was just enough to get me to one corner of the A-frame where one nail was in danger of popping free and where just a few feet above, the aluminum strip had been whipped out of place because the lefthand piece of the peak at the A was hanging free of the house, flapping in the breeze.

The 8-foot ladder would not reach the peak, so I had to fetch the Werner. Freeing the strip so that it could be tucked, then tapped, back into place. Including the time it took to get tools, hardware and to fetch and put away both ladders, the job took about 30 minutes.

It wasn’t tough. My neighbor was grateful. And I was relieved that it was something I actually could fix.

Establishing the SDS

2011-08-26T07:06:00.000-05:00

What time is it? What day is it? Who am I?

These have all been key questions during the past few weeks that I have found myself trying to answer almost every night, sometimes more than once a night. That’s because, at least in part, what I am experiencing has to be akin to what every parent caring for a newborn experiences: intensive sleep deprivation.

The difference is my “newborn” has fur, four feet and a tail. And, at 14, he’s hardly a newborn. Other than that, the similarities are many:
· I am awakened, on average, 1-3 times each night by a “crying baby.”
· This is a baby who is either hungry, needs to pee or both. (For Ozzie, both are due to his meds.)
· Sometimes, these adventures are short-lived and the return to sleep is quick. Generally, this is not the case.
· Said baby gets to sleep all day … while I must trudge off to work.

And so it’s been the past few weeks. So much so that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in I can’t even remember. So, I figure I would just go ahead and establish the Sleep Deprivation Society (SDS) . I hereby call this meeting to order.

Other than this, and the fact that some tumors are growing while he appears to slowly be losing weight, (SO glad he has it to spare, at least for now.) Ozzie is doing quite well. He’s spry and engaged, eating like a horse. Still interested in playing and offers spastic greetings when you arrive home.

And this is just one part of my life right now. I’ll try to get caught up with everyone again soon. In the meantime, sleep tight.

Out the Window

2011-08-20T10:36:00.004-05:00

By now, I had hoped that the three storm windows that are currently off the house (the kitchen and the two in my bedroom) would have been safely replaced and that Lawrence and I would be fairly close to having the remaining three windows removed.

But, that was not to be. Mother Nature decided to thunder through, leaving rain in her wake. I knew that rain was in the forecast but had hoped it would stave off until noonish, giving me enough time to take on the windows. So, I postponed with Lawrence.

The good news is that nothing seems to be severe ... yet. That's in the forecast for later. Even so, Mother Nature can do her d*mndest but it won't keep me from trekking over to the church where, once again, they're serving up TACOS!!! Mmmm...

Things are looking up already.

The Silent Treatment

2011-08-19T07:26:00.000-05:00

I have fallen silent for a week. Trust me when I say that eventually you’ll be glad that I did.

And what a week it’s been. Today, I feel like I should be wearing a shirt that says: “I busted my *ss for two decades and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.”

But more on that at a later date. Meanwhile, here are some other updates.
***
After more than a week’s absence, Pearl returned home once again last week. She is now safely jammed beneath the carport, carefully tucked between the mother’s myriad outdoor painting projects. (You may recall she was in the body shop getting the hail damage from April’s Easter week storms repaired.)

Thankfully, It would appear that the body shop does an infinitely better job with body work than they do in communicating with their customers. Whatever they did to the hood to remove a single dent, they managed to touch up a few other trouble spots making it look better than ever.

And, it’s now odd to see her trunk lid PRISTINE again. I was kind of getting used to seeing all of the assorted dings and dents, some of which were only revealed when the sun hit them a certain way. Now let’s just hope that Mother Nature is done hurling ice the size of golf balls and beyond for a while.
***
Ozzie continues to hold his own. The medication though has made him ravenous. He’s ready for his next meal within 10 seconds of completing one. And, it has increased his water intake and output. This means that I am awakened at least once or twice a night. I don’t mind though. It’s better than the every 30-40 minutes when he first started the meds and, at least for right now, he seems comfortable and contented.

We’ll be going to the vet again soon so we’ll see what the diagnostics have to say.
***
Outdoor projects are progressing at a snail’s pace. It’s frustrating, but they keep moving. Currently, I’m still doing battle with the windows. We have been taking off the storm windows and scraping, painting, caulking/repairing the house windows. A long, tedious process. So far, two of the eight are done with the storm windows back in place. I have three more painted and repaired. They just need a good razor-scraping and cleaning and then those storm windows can go back up.

Then, just three more to go …

Home-grown Terrorists

2011-08-08T08:19:00.001-05:00

Terrorist: A person who uses terrorism in the pursuit of political aims.

Terrorism: The use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes.

I don’t know if Vice President Joe Biden called the Teaheads terrorists or not. I guess that all depends on who you choose to believe. It’s immaterial to me. Because if he did, I think he’s right. (That was the theme of this op-ed in the New York Times that I think hit the nail directly on the head!) Sorry folks. Whether Joe Biden called ‘em terrorists are not, I will.

What else can you call being willing to take a nation to the brink of financial ruin if, like a pouty 3-year-old, you don’t get your way and you don’t get your way NOW? Happy about the credit downgrade and continued Dow plunge? The continued shake-up in the volatile world markets?

Pleased with yourselves that EVERYONE could end up paying more for credit cards/mortgages/car loans thanks to your shenanigans?! This could be just the beginning of yet another downward spiral. THANKS SO MUCH!

History has shown us myriad examples of how you cannot negotiate with terrorists. Hmmm. And which group absolutely, positively, wanted to put none of their demands aside? (Clue: It wasn’t the Democrats.)

Sorry, but these people are irresponsible, arrogant hypocrites. One need only see two examples of their fine hypocrisy to get the gist. You couldn’t make this stuff up – and, as it turns out, you don’t have to.

Minnesota Rep. Michele Bachmann doesn’t like government and thinks people need to “get off the government teat.” Why the hell doesn’t she become the first example? After all, this former IRS lawyer has never worked anywhere else – and continues to draw a six-figure income, courtesy of you and me. She doesn’t like the stimulus program (but had no problem asking for money for her district), and she, personally, has been the beneficiary of multiple government programs. For instance, A family farm in Wisconsin, in which Bachmann is a partner, received nearly $260,000 in federal farm subsidies. And, before voting to dismantle Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, she made sure first to get a $417,000 home loan.

Apparently, the government can only dole out funds to a select few. I guess as long as Bachmann is included on that short list, she’s OK with it.

Yeah, I want this one as my president. Not.

Then there’s the piece of work that is Illinois Rep. Joe Walsh (not to be confused with the former Eagle and James Gang member). Walsh is quick to tell you that he won’t place another dollar of burden on the backs of his children and grandchildren. Perhaps he ought to take some of the burden that’s already on those kids’ backs and pay some child support! Turns out our Mr. Family Values 2011 is in arrears on those payments by more than $100,000.

Normally, I wouldn’t use the latter point against him. How I feel about someone as a person and as a legislator aren’t always synonymous. (Though in this case, they are.) But … he’s the one who brought his children into the conversation. If he’s that worried about his kids, maybe he should be the first in line to help their futures along. So, he should practice a bit of what he preaches or shut the hell up already.

I guess it does offer some insight into his debt ceiling views. Clearly, the congressman has no issue with walking away from debt. And either he doesn’t understand – or doesn’t care – about the consequences of ignoring financial obligations. In either case, not someone I’m proud to have representing my state.

Now that the infantile antics have been temporarily subdued, maybe we can focus on something really important and that plays a major role in reducing the deficit: JOBS.

Quality Time

2011-08-06T23:24:00.001-05:00

Ozzie slept through the night. Nearly six hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. It was a thing of beauty.

Lawrence was supposed to come back today but due to the weather, I wasn’t able to finish the windows. (We’re taking down the storm windows and cleaning, caulking and painting the windows. Two of the eight – except for caulking and painting the OUTSIDE now that the storm windows are back in place – are done. Lawrence took three more down when he was here on Wednesday.)

I canceled with Lawrence since I’d not yet started with the next round of windows nor done anything in the bathroom. And, because we had nasty, airless weather again, dotted with occasional showers.

Technically, I could have worked on the bathroom. I didn’t. Instead, I took care of Ozzie and logged some general quality time. He still has occasional choking fits but they are shorter and there aren’t as many. This morning was kind of bad but it was only intermittent throughout the rest of the day.

He continues to eat well. In fact, the medication has taken his already voracious appetite and made him completely obsessed about when he eats next! It can get annoying , but I’m just grateful that he still can eat.

Assuming that it doesn’t rain all day tomorrow (it was raining when I got up this morning), I may spend a few hours working on the windows. I’m not going to kill myself doing it though.

It’s been a long, stressful few weeks and I worked plenty hard while I was home last week, so a little R&R may be just the ticket!

Learning About Lymphoma

2011-08-06T00:04:00.000-05:00

During the past few days, I’ve learned a lot about the lymphatic system. Knowing that poor Ozzie’s is under siege, I’ve set out to see what I can do to ease his plight.

Apparently, the vets have already given up on him – or someone would have bothered to tell me that his homecooked food, which has always been healthy – suddenly has some serious problems for a dog with cancer. It’s not like they don’t know what he eats; they ask each and every time I take him in!

On my onw, I have learned that dairy products (like the cottage cheese he eats) are bad. Luckily, because he has been severely congesteed this week, I had already started backing him off of the cottage cheese. Then I learned that “sweet fruits,” with bananas and pineapple being the primary culprits, “fuel swollen lymph glands.” Oh, great.

I found out that beets are a better alternative as are the “leafy greens.” Watermelon is good, and grapefruit is, too. All of these have been added to Ozzie’s diet. I found out that supplements like fish oil, echinachea and zinc are good, too.
They may have given up. Fine. Let them.

But we haven’t.

All That AND Tacos!

2011-08-01T22:46:00.000-05:00

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. The heat. Busy at work, busy at home. Ozzie’s diagnosis.

The end of last week began a stint of little to no sleep. Ozzie’s condition and shifting medications have made him restless and/or frequently needing to pee. That means getting up in the night. Many times.

Wednesday, Thursday and then Friday nights – collectively, I got maybe seven or eight hours sleep. Friday was the worst of these. I went to bed at 12:30. My first “wake-up” from Ozzie was less than 45 minutes later. And it went on every 30-45 minutes after until I finally gave up and got out of bed at 4 a.m. I’d gotten all of 90 minutes sleep, if that.

So when Lawrence arrived Saturday morning, I wasn’t necessarily ready for the normal rote. (We’ve been blessed to have Lawrence return after a loooooong hiatus.) But Lawrence, being Lawrence, managed to fix that quickly.

He managed to knock out one job after another in very short order. One trip to the hardware store and less than four hours later: the kitchen sink had stopped leaking; the hose was once again In working order thanks to a new exterior faucet and the shut-off downstairs was tightened and stopped leaking; the shower had a new porcelain handle (courtesy of the commode) and the commode had a new porcelain handle (courtesy of a new handle kit I had picked up, thinking it might work for the shower). But the biggest plus for the day was the additon of a phone jack.
We’ve lived in this house for 25 years. Before Saturday, it had a total of five phone jacks between upstairs and down. None of them were in my bedroom. I can’t say that now!

So, Saturday was a good day. And I needed a good day so I let it play out. To recap: the return of Lawrence, several small jobs complete in just a few hours, and a phone jack in my room. But then, things got a little bit better.

I was starving. Eating had been a rarity, nearly as much as sleep. I had noticed that the Catholic church by my house was selling tacos. I didn’t get too excited but I was determined to check it out. (The mother and I are taco “snobs” as we don’t do cornmeal.) Much to my delight, they offered fried flour tortillas!!! And they were GOOD.

A Tea Party of My Own

2011-07-26T07:45:00.005-05:00

WARNING: This is an angry political rant.

I'd love to have my own tea party. Only at my tea party, we would throw the Tea Party into Boston Harbor. (And maybe toss John Boehner and Eric Cantor in behind them?)

Because they all seriously need to go soak their heads. And Grover Norquist? He can kiss my *ss. Not only is he not even an elected official, who the hell died and left him God? He surely does not represent me and I seriously resent that he has the kind of sway that he apparently does over those who do.

I'm glad that all these people have done so well, God bless 'em. But does that mean they don't have to be concerned about anyone else? Nice "Christian" values, those.

Good Lord these people make St. Ronald Reagan, the darling of the real Republican party, a sight for sore eyes! (And this is a man I couldn’t stand. How do you think I feel about this outfit?!) Nick Kristof of the New York Times had a great column last week. In some ways, it was like a “light” version of Jonathan Swift’s 18th century essay “A Modest Proposal” in its acerbic and exaggerated tone.

I am ashamed that our government representatives seriously believe that programs on which the elderly, disabled and infirm depend on for their very survival should be decimated … so that things like tax loopholes on corporate jets can remain open and so we can continue to dole out massive incentives to oil and gas companies who have enjoyed RECORD-SETTING PROFITS the past few years. By all means, throw Grandma under the plane. Make sure you get her right beneath the wheel …

I’m stunned that there is all this focus on making mincemeat of Grandma and making a doormat of armless/legless Johnny. (That, and on reproductive rights. Screw a whole segment of society that's already here, but you must have every fetus, but screw you and it once it’s here.) Weren’t these people supposed to be focused on jobs? (Hey, Boehner, WHERE ARE THE JOBS?!) Apparently not.

No, I don't favor abortion but I DO support someone else's right to make that call for themselves on something that is much too personal. (And these are maneuvers by some of the same people who say that government "over reaches." I think it is a government over reach of the worst kind for its long arm to extend to any woman's ...) Yes, government spending needs to be reined in, but NOT in a way that makes bloodbaths of vital programs. And certainly NOT to the betterment of the 2 percent of the American population who don’t need it.

But clearly, they are after Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security. Sure, go after the most vulnerable. And they aren’t giving an inch. (If you can’t see where their interests lie, then folks, you have my pity.) They have been offered cuts and their precious lack of tax increases. And still, it’s kill Grandma. And these are some of the same people who created “false” death panel rumors during the Health Care Reform debates. Well, they should know what death panels look like. They’re trying like hell to create REAL ones!

And they better not, not a single damn one of them, say ANYTHING about being a Christian. I have to think that Jesus would have a field day with these folks. Or, maybe they never heard that “what you do to the least of these, you do to me.”

Think on that … as you scrape up whatever’s left of Grandma once these people are finished.

The ‘L’ Word

2011-07-22T07:12:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, life really sucks. This is one of those times.

It’s not that I wasn’t aware of the inevitability or that I’m not a realist. It’s just when it comes out into the harsh light of day, some facts beat you over the head with a bat, rabbit punch you in the kidneys and then stab you in the gut.

The ‘L’ word in this case is lymphoma. Ozzie was diagnosed with it last night.

He’s 14. If it wasn’t that, it would be something else. I know this. And yet I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest with a pitchfork.

Except for some rather excessive swelling in and around his throat, he seems to be his normal little self. In fact, within a few hours of getting home from the vet last night, he vigorously helped me open one of my birthday presents (a pre-midnight surprise and I suspect a pick-me-up courtesy of the mother) and then proceeded to play with the present with the vigor of a puppy (a softball-sized, color-changing ball – something I play with every time we go to Cracker Barrel).

First, we’re going to see if steroids will bring his lymph nodes down any. If not, chemo is another option. But he is 14 and while, according to the vet, dogs do tolerate it relatively well, that’s a bit radical to put him through. Or at least I think it is.

But that’s looking too far ahead.

For right now, I just want him to be as happy and as comfortable as I can make him and enjoy whatever time he has left. He’s had a good long run and I’m grateful for that.

This is just going to be incredibly hard.

All Around Lafayette Park, Part 1

2011-07-22T05:29:00.000-05:00

Lafayette Park has had its St. Louis niche clearly carved out for more than 150 years. The neighborhood, of which the 36–acre park is the center, covers several square blocks surrounding it.

It is an awesome mix (if you’re a historic architecture nut like I am) of Victorian, Queen Anne, Greek Revival, Italianate, Mansard, Craftsman and about a dozen other styles from the late 19th century.

The Lafayette Park Subdivision deed restrictions and an Act of the State Legislature protected Lafayette Square from much of the “undesirable types of mixed land-use” like manufacturing or taverns. While this co-existence was the norm in most inner city neighborhoods of the pre-zoning era, Lafayette Square was an early NIMBY (Not in My Back Yard) advocate. Kind of ironic, too, considering that bars and specialty pubs are commonplace there and that the boundaries of the neighborhood, extended in 1986, include former brewers, a bed manufacturer, shoemaker and a publishing house.

It may, though, be that historic designation, that haughty pride in ownership, which has made this neighborhood one of the city’s most beautiful and enduring. There are so many gorgeous home, literally hundreds of them, that I couldn’t hope to photograph much less post them all. (And that's probably why the ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD is a designated historic site by the National Register of Historic Places.)

I can tell you I was like a kid turned loose in a candy store, my eyes gobbling up one gorgeous home after another.

Benton Place, laid out in 1868, is St. Louis' earliest existing private street. It seems as good a place as any to start. And, the pictures should speak for themselves …

And She Sets Sail … Bon Voyage!

2011-07-20T05:44:00.000-05:00

I catch glimpses of the news each morning as I walk between my room and the bath, occasionally peering in at the TV in the living room. The Admiral was back in the headlines Tuesday because she was officially moving on.

She wouldn’t be under her own power; a barge would push her to Columbia, Ill., and a waiting scrap heap. She’d already overstayed thanks to rising river levels so workers began stripping away the upper deck weeks ago so she could pass beneath the bridges in her path.

I took an early lunch and headed for the riverfront. I decided to seek a perch atop the garage just off Morgan Street.

It’s hard to see much at ground level except through an occasional opening in a garage wall, but I spied a glint of silver reflecting in the baking hot sun. She’s still there! I hadn’t missed it.

I snapped a few photos and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.

By 10:45, I decided I could run to a nearby sandwich shop and then resume my perch. That way, I’d at least go back to the office with something to eat!

I was encouraged by movement of the crane, that had been atop the now decimated upper deck, being moved over to the side.

More preparations were under way and her departure seemed imminent. Occasionally, a barge would go by, even though traffic was supposed to be halted. Then, even the Tom Sawyer paddle-wheeler, its decks lined with spectators, floated by.
Shortly after 11, after baking in the sun for about 40 minutes, I knew I had to leave and go back. Begrudgingly, I snapped a few more photos, threw the Admiral a salute and a wave and walked back. Back at the office, I dealt with a few tasks and then checked out a conference room overlooking the river.

I was delighted to find that I could see enough of the Admiral to know when it was moving. Even from my desk, careful craning provided me with a tiny sliver of the hulking boat. Then, she began to move. First, she pulls away from her moorings just opposite the MLK Bridge.
Then, she cruises beneath the historic Eads one final time.

At that point, the boat is extremely close to shore but soon begins to make a wide turn to put it out farther into the Mississippi. I gulp and tear up a bit as I get my initial firsthand look at the devastated upper decks, a place which had been the site of many happy childhood times.

The Admiral begins to straighten her course and then … leaves downtown St. Louis forever. As she glides from view, an era in both downtown’s history and mine ends.

R.I.P. SS Admiral

The Albatross 1907-1937

SS Admiral 1940-2011

Heatwave

2011-07-19T08:05:00.001-05:00

I spent the bulk of Sunday morning working in the yard. I thought that by starting before 8 a.m. I’d beat the bulk of the heat.

Yeah. Right.

It was already 85 degrees by then and the humidity was well over 60 percent. Totally freakin’ airless.

Fortunately, there was an occasional breeze which, if you were in the shade when it blew through, was delicious! The sun was bright and steady. It made for a tough haul in trimming and mowing the yard today. With one short break and a conversation with a neighbor, I still managed to get done by 11. I spent the next 30-45 minutes cleaning everything up and getting ready for a run to the dump.

By the time I got the car loaded, I was drenched and a bit on the exhausted side. I went inside and spent the next 40 minutes cooling down. Finally taking a shower was akin to a religious experience.

I guess though that I’d better get used to it. It’s supposed to be at or near 100 degrees for the next week. YIKES!

Bearcats, Columns and Fountains – Oh, My!

2011-07-16T22:49:00.011-05:00

It doesn’t happen often that I get to meet someone that I “know” online. In fact, it has only happened one other time when I had the pleasure of meeting Beth Anne from The Seventh Level of Boredom.

I might have gotten to meet Vicky from Not So SAHM if she hadn’t been doing a virtual fly-by of downtown. But other than that, its been online forums, emails, comments, etc. from my fellow bloggers and Georgers.

But on Friday, I got to meet TWO Georgers! “Scrunchee” lives in the St. Louis area but Mary lives in California. She is visiting family in Illinois, northern Illinois at that, but she drove down to St. Louis for a visit. I met here and Scrunchee at Square One in the Lafayette neighborhood. I hadn’t been in that part of town for a while and what a joy it was.

Our late lunch lasted three hours! And it went by quick. Mary and Scrunchee are both teachers and, as if that wasn’t a challenging enough job, they teach at-risk kids. My hat is truly off to both of them. They are both great gals.

We met at a brew pub called Square One. (I got the distinct feeling that I’d been there before when it was something else but it’s possible it just reminded me of another place.) Despite the fact that it was 90 degrees, we braved the courtyard patio. It turned out to be an amazingly pleasant place, mostly shaded, offering the breeze of two fans and the relaxing sounds and view of a fountain. This is the backdrop of that fountain that was capped off by a rectangular basin about a foot deep.

I’d love to have seen the building that the doorway once graced! Mary and I had Scrunchee (who is camera shy) take our picture in front of it.

The inside had just as many architectural offerings but I didn’t really spend any time inside. I’ll save that for a future visit. Outside in the courtyard though we were under the watchful eyes of a pair of these lion/bear heads.
They reminded me a lot of Louis Sullivan's bearcats so I was naturally smitten with them.

There was also this Romanesque column to enhance the scenery.

Good food. Good folks. Great atmosphere. And a pleasant July day in St. Louis. You can’t really ask for much more than that. And, contented as I was, I certainly didn’t expect it. But, as our party dissolved and we went our separate ways, I was immediately taken with many of the homes on adjacent blocks.

So, guess who went for a walk? And took about 60 photos in 45 minutes. More to come …

Keeping Track of Warranties

2011-07-15T07:19:00.000-05:00

I got a letter last week from Maytag informing me that the warranty on the refrigerator we had purchased in 2009 was expiring this week. I knew that couldn’t be right. I distinctly remembered having purchased extended warranties on both the stove and refrigerator last year.

I flipped through my checkbook register and found entries for both a Frigidaire and some off name extended service program. For the off name, I’d paid $159 on June 30, 2010. No WAY that was for one year! (Maybe there are programs that cost that much; I don’t pay that much!) I drug out our trusty dusty home journal book where thankfully I HAD stored the warranty contract I’d received in the mail. (Instead of stowing it in the bill drawer which I would normally do and where it might never be seen again.)

It was definitely for our Maytag refrigerator. And it said the warranty was effective from July 10, 2010, through July 10, 2014! OK. Great. I wasn’t off the beam after all.

What I found out is that even though the mail I got had the Maytag logo on it, it may or may not have really been from Maytag. I pulled one of the letters I’d gotten last year soliciting the protection program I ultimately bought and it looked almost identical to the one I got last week.
(Just a different address and same coverage at cheaper rates.)

What I learned is that both the manufacturer and the retail outlet you buy from (in this case, Home Depot) either provide or contract with warranty service organizations. Apparently, they compete against each other for your warranty dollar.

So, before you purchase an appliance warranty, here’s a couple tips.

See if there’s another option available.

Know for sure WHICH organization you’re contracting with.

Keep any and all paperwork, including the check number or credit card info for your transaction.

The Holiday Project

2011-07-12T06:00:00.000-05:00

I didn’t see any fireworks over the Fourth of July weekend. I saw lots and lots of bricks though.

That’s because I finally got around to that landscaping project that kept eluding me. Or, more accurately, the first phase of it. This involved taking up about two dozen landscaping timber pieces (which I loathed, hated and despised), chopping them up for disposal, and replacing them at the edge of the concrete slab our shed sits on with brick.

When I started, the area around the slab looked a lot like this. (This is an older photo, pre-pimped shed -- notice the dimple in the back wall -- but you can see how the timbers were used.) The timbers ranged from 3 to 4 feet in length and were stacked two deep.

I started working on Sunday but the on again/off again rain which eventually blew in as a storm around 5 p.m., meant that I barely got the timbers removed and chopped up. In between mini-showers and sunshine on Monday (the Fourth) I was able to get prep work under way AND lay down the short side of bricks.

I think there were originally timbers there when we bought This D*mn House and that these were the replacement models. Like they did everything else, the POs did this in a weird way, too.

Apparently, on the shorter side, they didn’t dig as deeply as on the longer side. This meant that I had to stack two rows of bricks on the shorter side, but three rows on the longer one. And, it meant that I had to stagger them so that I could get the 90-degree intersection of the two sides to meet up.

With some patience to get them as level as I could (which wasn’t all that level in some cases) by digging or filling in with a sand/mortar mix, I finally got them to line up. I still need to go back and mortar the lines a bit, but it all seems to have dried nicely.

I don’t know about you, but I like the bricks a thousand times better than I ever could those stupid landscape timbers!

Pool Party!

2011-07-10T03:42:00.000-05:00

With all the hot summer days, there has been plenty of activity around our pool. Oh. Haven't I shown you our new pool.? Here it is.

That's Frank. And Jemmy is getting a drink. And in the pool? That's a newcomer. She is a third tag-along duck. (Or maybe it's a he. I think it's a girl.) Since she is the first to actually get IN the pool, which she does multiple times each day, the mother has started calling her Esther Williams.
And so there they are. Frank, Jemmy and Esther. Everyone is being quite well-behaved.
Some other friends even join the crowd, but steering fairly clear of the pool itself.And still, quiet swimming and drinking goes on.

Looks like Frank has decided that it's time to head for home. Out of the pool, Esther! But apparently, that idea doesn't go over too well ...

Learning About Ducks

2011-07-09T05:11:00.000-05:00

Until this week, what I knew about ducks was pretty limited. In fact, I'd say the following pretty much sums up the majority of my prior knowledge:

Donald, Daisy, Daffy ... and Howard

Quack and AFLAC!

Feathers, bills and webbed feet

They're are several different varieties.

They fly and like water.

Ducklings are cute.

Yep. I think that about covers it. But, after Frank and Jemmy arrived in May, I quickly learned the differences between a mallard drake and a hen. Pretty easy to tell. The male is the "pretty" colored one. Females are a drab, mottled brown. Pretty easy indeed. Or so I thought.

I took that photo on May 11. During the next few weeks, I noticed that Frank's colors were becoming less vibrant and that his head was just growing darker. The change was so gradual that I didn't really notice it ... at first. Then I discovered, quite by accident, that Frank was missing a foot. That got me doing side-by-side comparisons of weeks' worth of photos.

Wait ... this isn't even the same duck! In fact, that duck looks suspiciously more like a female.

Except, it really IS the same duck! Notice the little flecks of green/purple on his head and neck. And, at the very end of his neck, see the white stripe? That is what remains of Frank's ultra identifiable feathers. He is now sporting eclipse plumage.

And when does this normally occur with mallard ducks? The process starts in mid- to late June -- after mating season. He won't get his "pretty boy" feathers back until fall when he'll once more begin wooing girls for the spring!

This might also explain what happened to Frank's foot. Because the process renders him at least temporarily flightless, he may not have been able to completely outrun a dog or cat. Or, being grounded, got himself trapped in a fence or pen.

Now this all makes sense! If you can't fly so good, the last thing you want to do is be really easy for a predator to spot. Thus, the drakes turn more of the drab brown colors. Even his bill, once kind of a vibrant yellow-green, is now like algae green. (Females always have a brown or orange bill so that's one way to tell the difference at this phase.)

Did you know this about ducks?! I sure didn't. And I'm geekily fascinated by it. Nature can be down right amazing.

Just A Shell

2011-07-08T11:38:00.000-05:00

If this doesn't make you want to weep, then you were never aboard the SS Admiral.

I took this earlier this week during one of my lunchtime walks. I had caught a glimpse of the Admiral one day a few weeks ago when the bus was rerouted over the MLK. I didn't think it was even here anymore because I'd heard they had started tearing her apart back in March or April. She was then to head upriver to Alton for "final disposition." More than a century of history goes with her.

I walked down to the Landing on a whim and found this. Turns out my prediction, made in this post about the Admiral last year, was dead-on: she's headed for the scrap heap. Seems like a waste of a gem of a boat. It's like having part of your childhood thrown into a dump.

I prefer now to always think of her like this, as she was 70 years ago in all her steel-clad glory, just a few years into her regeneration from an old steamer called the Albatross.

The Admiral, c. 1941, University of Missouri Archives

Ladybird Rides Again!

2011-07-08T07:16:00.002-05:00

Last Friday, I got a phone call providing me with a five-word, life-altering phrase: "It's NOT the head gasket."

Whew! I was terrified this time last week that Ladybird had taken her last flight. But I'm happy to report that one water pump and several hundred dollars later, she is back on the road! We got her back on Tuesday evening. (Which surprised me; I didn't think I'd see her before THURSDAY.)

I made her feel right at home by promptly loading her up with yard waste and heading for the dump. She was happy to comply. She's a very good girl and is going to get a good scrubbin' down this weekend.

So, life is good again in our driveway. Now, to deal with Pearl's hail damage ... an an airbag-related safety recall. Nice.

A War on Three Fronts

2011-07-07T07:31:00.006-05:00

I wrote this column a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it, content to leave it as a stress-relieving rant. But after hearing of developments in the President's latest round of "negotiations" (negotiations meaning "I'll lay here and you steam-roller me flat")I'm going to put it out there.

People were worried that this president is "secretly" a Muslim. That wouldn't bother me if he was. I'm worried he's "secretly" a Republican.

The nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. – Pres. Barack Obama, inaugural address

We are a nation at war on three fronts. Not in Iraq. Not in Afghanistan. Not in Libya. But right here, within our own boundaries, fighting amongst ourselves. Over class. Over race. Over age. The only thing united about these war fronts is that they are all tethered to the pitiful state of our economy.

The Class War. The gap between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ has grown at an almost unprecedented rate during the past 30 years. (At the rate things are going, that decline will accelerate as the gap continues to widen.) You’re lucky to be employed. And even if you can find a job after being unemployed, a salary remotely comparable to the one you last had is probably out of the question.

What’s seriously wrong with this picture? In 2008, the top 0.1 percent of earners took in more than 10 percent of personal income in the United States, including capital gains, and the top 1 percent took in more than 20 percent. So, less than 1/10th of 1 percent of working people made 1/10th of all income. In 1975, the top 0.1 percent of earners took in about 2.5 percent of U.S. personal income. (These stats are part of a great Washington Post article examining the widening income gap in America.)

Who owns most of this wealth? Corporate executives.

America wouldn’t be America if it was right to begrudge success. And defenders argue that executives warrant their brain-numbing salaries because business is “bigger and more complex” today and that the compensation is tied to the performance of the companies they lead. Really?

That’s not what the research shows. Consider: Researchers Raghavendra Rau and Huseyin Gulen of Purdue University and Michael J. Cooper of the University of Utah surveyed the performance of 1,500 companies between 1994 and 2006 and found that “lavish CEO compensation may in fact undermine shareholder wealth.” The researchers concluded that “the 10 percent of companies with the most highly paid CEOs earned unusually low returns in both the near- and long-term.”

The Race War. You’d think that more than 145 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, this would be over. But no. And, unfortunately, it’s not just limited to a single race. Aren’t white? You apparently qualify. I’m appalled by the number of people who use the phrase, “Send ‘em back.” Really? Show me your ancestry, pal. Unless it’s 100 percent Native American Indian (the people we stole this country from) then you are a guest, too. Where would you like to be sent back to?

I can’t wait to see how the radical right will respond to the recent report about the birth rate of “non-white” babies now outpacing white babies. Trust me, this is going to be a headline for the anti-abortion movement— if it isn’t already.

There is always some whippin’ boy in American society. While racial profiling is supposed to be illegal, its goes on all the time. And there’s a disproportionate number of people of color in prison. If you don’t have the “right” color of skin, then maybe you don’t worship the “right” way either. It’s a great way to keep all of “sorta haves” and “have nots” pitted against one another, isn’t it?

The Age War. I saw a comment to a story talking about the number of retirees who rely on Social Security as their primary income source. It was from a young kid, bragging about the fact that they had already saved $10,000 toward their retirement and just didn’t understand how these retirees couldn’t have managed to have saved for their retirement. Well, of course, this youngster doesn’t.

He/she didn’t live and work through the 1980s. He/she didn’t LOSE their retirement, after decades of saving, in a single day on Wall Street. He/she has not yet fallen victim to the fact that, during the past three decades, wages have stagnated while the cost of living has continued to spiral skyward.

Again, the economy, pitting us against one another for resources. Retirement. Jobs (if you aren’t old enough to retire). Basic survival.

Right now, kids can’t get summer jobs because they’re being filled by older people who can’t find anything else. There are proposals around the country to abolish child labor laws and to pay students BELOW minimum wage. For those of us under 55 but within 20-30 years of retirement, just who is it that is going to employ us into our 70s? Let’s just do it the way they did it a century ago: work ‘til you drop or slink off into the night to starve to death once you’re shown the door.

So where does it end? And how?

I say it ends here, today, right now. And it ends by getting together as a people. Let’s stop fighting amongst ourselves – and start fighting FOR ourselves …with them! That’s going to mean facing some realities.

· Cutting taxes will neither stimulate growth nor create jobs. It didn’t when Ronald Reagan started it; it won’t today.
· Our Congressmen, who make six-figure incomes, need to stop disrespecting the people who pay those salaries – and begrudging decent wages to people who earn significantly less than they do. How full of yourself you must be to think what you do is so much more valuable than the work of teachers, policemen, firefighters and nurses.
· Politicians don’t care about anything but their careers. If they did, they would be concerned about doing things that are best for all of us as a people – not for their respective parties.

Mr. President … remember that inauguration quote? Mr. Boehner … how about you ask yourself "where are the jobs?"

Happy Birthday, Eads (and America, too)!

2011-07-04T10:45:00.016-05:00

It’s the Fourth of July and the birthday of our nation – Happy Birthday, USA!

During this country’s first century, work was under way on a structure that would span the Mississippi, connecting St. Louis to its neighbors to the immediate east in Illinois. The Eads Bridge was officially dedicated on July 4, 1874.

Here she is. (With the spans of the infinitely newer Martin Luther King Bridge visible in the background.)

Construction on the mile-long bridge, at a cost of $10 million, had started in August 1867. The three-span, ribbed steel, deck arch design was the brainchild of Capt. James B. Eads, a hydraulic river engineer who had built iron clad gunboats for the Union during the Civil War. It would be his first and only bridge Eads was obsessed with the perfect foundation, convinced that the foundations should reach bedrock. This obsession was no doubt encouraged by an 1868 trip to Europe. The result: the Eads Bridge foundation is 136 feet below high water on the east pier, the deepest pneumatic caisson ever constructed.

Quite a feat for the time. Because he was familiar with the depths below the river from recovering sunken warships, Eads knew a lot about diving. But not everything.

During the caisson construction, 14 men died of the bends.

Things got off to a rocky start once consruction finshed, too. While the first train through its tunnel had been adjusted, the body of the train remained a few inches wider, causing it to scrape the sides and assault its passengers with smoke and an unpleasant smell. But that would be the least of its worries.

Initially serving a single railroad, other lines boycotted the new bridge. It created an untenable financial situation, forcing the bridge into receivership and to be auctioned in 1878. In 1889, the Terminal Railroad Association (TRRA) assumed ownership.
The bridge was the first major structure constructed with steel as its primary metal. It had the largest spans of any bridge at the time and in total length it would remain unrivaled until 1932. (In the photo above, from the University of Missouri archives, youngsters aboard the Admiral in 1941 peer out onto the Eads.)

The bridge became a National Historical Landmark in 1964 and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places four years later. By the 1970s, it had been displaced as a railroad bridge and the tracks were removed around 1974.

The bridge was closed for more than a decade, starting in the mid-‘90s. When the Eads finally did reopen, my beloved McKinley Bridge was still closed so it was such welcome relief.

A lot of people didn’t know it had reopened so for a long time it was a well-kept secret that made my occasional drives to work a breeze.

Today, the bridge is a throwback to its history, once again carrying both cars and train traffic. This time though the train is the MetroLink, St. Louis’ version of the subway.

And it’s just as beautiful now and I never miss a chance to catch a glimpse of it and marvel at it.

Craigslist: The Summertime Money Maker

2011-07-02T21:45:00.002-05:00

I had a busy week and the weekend hasn’t slowed the pace a step. I’ve been trying to work through the heat and it hasn’t been easy. And seriously slowing my progress. So, while I’m out sweating my butt off, here’s a guest post for your perusal. Seems like there's some great ways to make a few extra bucks this summer! Isabella York at Balsam Hill was kind enough to share this post telling how. Read on...

By Isabella York

Craigslist: The Summertime Money Maker

Summer, more often than not, is the time for home improvement projects. With the school year finally over, this period offers the best opportunity to get your teenagers' help with the gardening or even fence repainting (you might have to bribe them with several dollars for this one though!)

In our family, the dry, hot months of summer means cleaning the house and getting out our brushes, power tools and all the other stuff from the garage to make our home feel brand spanking new. As we were getting ready to landscape the front yard just last month, we pulled out a still healthy hedge that lined the front foot path to make room for a small fence. My boy remarked that it would be a good idea to sell it on Craigslist, the open market for anything that you wanted an ad for. After ten minutes of posting on Craigslist, we already had three people interested in buying it! This got me and my husband thinking about other items that may be worth selling on the site, and after looking around the house for more stuff, we came up with this list:

Parts and items from home improvement projects that have not come into fruition. For us in the home improvement hobbyist world, we often come into our garage and find odds and ends, and other items that are part of projects that have failed, succeeded or forgotten. These items are gems to the Craigslist ad world, where people try to find little things they might not necessarily pay for full price out in stores. Upgraded your doors and found the old one lying around? Those are perfect for selling! Just make sure you put the dimensions on right. Cans of spray paint you barely used would also be perfect for do-it-yourselfers wanting good deals. Take note of the stuff you've set aside for projects you don't ever think you're going to get back to, and sell them online. You may even buy new stuff for better, newer projects in the future with the money you make from these!
Spare parts and accessories of a car already sold. If you happen to have spare parts of a car that you've already sold, these could really sell well on the site! We got rid of our 2000 Honda Accord five years ago, but still had some parts lying around. A box of spark plugs, an old caliper, a couple of car mats and an old car cover gone, we made about $100 from car enthusiasts who were on the lookout for cheaper auto parts online. Some of our customers have even asked us to reserve for them any other car accessories that we may find lying in the house in the near future.

Appliances that have zonked out. There are a lot of fixer uppers out there, who love to buy stuff we consider junk, fix it up, and sell it as refurbished items. A few of our old appliances like our microwave, toaster and waffle irons are apparently very easy to fix, and go for quite a bit more than your neighborhood junkyard.
Old furniture.In the process of building your dream home, you are bound to collect a few furniture pieces that warrant a "What was I thinking when I bought that?" a few years later, and kept in the garage until you've found a better place for it. I have seen one woman's design nightmare change into another's dream online. Somehow, old furniture is one of the easiest items to sell on Craigslist, especially for collectors and designers. Just make sure you've cleaned it out and repaired the few rips on upholstery that have accumulated over the years.

Musical instruments. Tried to teach yourself guitar or the drums but realized you were just making noise? Musical instruments are a category of the better selling items on the site, as musicians are always looking out for gear or other items to add to their collections. Even just a drum cymbal or a guitar pickup can be several dollars each so go post it online! If you have no idea how much it goes for, check music forums and ask for advice. They usually give a straight answer on how much these things cost.

With the onset of home improvements, and the cleaning out process that comes with it, you can actually make money on items you may consider junk! So take out those brushes and prepare for a home improvement project that is not only fulfilling design wise, but also in the wallet. Make money of the stuff you've accumulated throughout the years (and during the spurts of your inner DIY-er), and get the funding for bigger and better projects that will last you until the next season!

Isabella York is a dedicated working mother. She works for Balsam Hill, a purveyor of Artificial Christmas Trees in traditional and modern styles, and assorted other Christmas Trees.

Brick-gathering Gone Awry

2011-06-30T06:58:00.000-05:00

It was warm but not oppressive. It was still daylight. I knew that Home Depot had a relatively healthy supply of pavers that I needed to tap before they disappeared. So I made the trip.
It was a fateful decision.

I think I mentioned Ladybird’s recent woes. Well, she’s not really given me much trouble, just a few scares. That changed Tuesday night.

Little more than half-way home from my adventures with bricks, I hear an odd whine. It disappears almost as soon as I hear it. The temperature gauge starts to rise. Mind you, at this point, I’m on a not- that-well-lit strip of roadway with absolutely nothing nearby. The gauge spikes above normal but not into the red zone. I slow my pace but keep driving.

The whine returns; disappears. I pull into a gas station. And sit. About 15 minutes later, I’m back on the road. The gauge registers normal, but then starts to rise, quickly.

I’m incredibly close to home at this point so I pull into an empty but lit lot. Smoke is slowly billowing from beneath the hood. I am about three or so blocks away from a Dollar General/Family Dollar (some kinda discount store, I always mix these up) that I remember seeing now stays open until 10 p.m. I look at my phone. It’s 9:11 p.m. Whew! That’s a lucky break for me.

I prop open the hood, lock the car and start walking. When I get there, there is exactly one, ONE, jug of Prestone 50/50 antifreeze on the shelf. That’s the only kind of antifreeze they have, at all. It’s as if it was sitting there, waiting for me. I buy it and walk back. I fill the reservoir and then wait. It’s now after 9:30.

I finally made it home around 10, stopping less than a mile after I’d started to let the car cool for another 15-20 minutes. The mother followed me to the mechanic’s last night (I called him yesterday and he said bring ‘er down). It was strange to walk outside this morning and not see Ladybird in the driveway.

Cross your fingers that she will be back on the road soon – and that it won’t take the national debt to make her that way.

The Trouble with Frank

2011-06-29T06:58:00.006-05:00

I think I mentioned in a previous post that our “resident” mallard drake, Frank, seemed to be having foot issues. He’s been limping rather severely off and on, sometimes to the point of nearly falling over.

Over the weekend, I found out what the trouble is. It isn’t that there’s something wrong with Frank’s left foot. It’s that Frank’s left foot is missing. GONE!

When they’re out in the yard, standing in the grass, it’s very hard to see their feet. I made a point of training the camera on Frank’s feet the other day.

This is Frank. He’s so cute.

This is Frank’s foot.

Or Frank’s leg anyway, sans foot. You should be able to see a webbed foot right there. But you don't. What in the hell happened, Frank?! Poor guy.

The mother started arguing that he was that way when he first came. I scratched my head on that one. Then, I remembered the VERY FIRST photos I took of Frank and Jemmy.

Lousy though they may be, the photos are clear enough to show that they are standing not in the grass but in the driveway.

And, you can see that Frank had two feet on May 7.

The trauma also seems to have taken its toll on the color around his head. It was once vibrant and green. Now it's still green when the sun hits it just right, but not with the vibrancy it had last month.

This is Jemmy -- at our "pool."
I bought one of those small kiddie pools a few weeks ago and it has been a constant source of amusement ever since. The birds, the ducks, the squirrels, the bunnies -- EVERYBODY uses it! It's kind of a pain to keep clean, but I don't mind.

And while Jemmy still shows up a few times a day, at least for this week, Frank has been a no-show. I hope he's OK. We really like him!

Hey, That Sounds Familiar ...

2011-06-28T07:01:00.005-05:00

I like to occasionally look at my blog stats. One of the best pieces of information they provide to me is how people are coming to the blog. Earlier this month, I noticed I was getting several visitors coming from Kathy’s Remodeling Blog.

Well, I love other people’s blogs, especially DIYers, so I had to check this out. I've found that it’s a fabulous way to discover new blogs and made many finds this way. (So, make sure you click that link and check out Kathy’s site!)

Boy, am I glad I did! Not only did I find a kindred spirit in the home improvement circuit, but I found out that both Kathy and I had snagged an award from InteriorDesignCollege.org. (Turns out when I checked my email the next morning, I’d been sent a note from the website, too.)

We were both named among their picks of the Top 50 Home Improvement Blogs.

Somehow, This D*mn House landed in the Top Five. Some of my favorite housebloggers are among “the rest of the best.” Thumbs up to all my DIY brethren and sisthren on the honors!

I’m always both shocked and humbled when someone nods at the blog. Both it and the house are labors of love and true extensions of me, so I take that stuff a little personally. Affirmation is always welcome.

Thanks so much.

Back to the Bricks ... Again

2011-06-26T15:47:00.002-05:00

No more storms yet today. Just unbearable humidity.

That made my trip earlier today all the more fun: brick-gathering. I decided I would check out Home Depot since our local Lowe's had kind of a crappy selection of Holland pavers. Turns out it was a smart move.

I came home 100 bricks heavier. (I didn't want to push it too much with Ladybird. She's been OK so far lately. Cross your fingers.) I'm HOPING that this weekend -- starting with Friday -- will NOT be beleaguered with storms. We are supposed to get more storms tonight and tomorrow -- both with a risk of severe -- I need some cooler, drier weather to start getting these bricks down.

And it looks like I'll be heading back to HD at least one night this week for more bricks. It gonna start lookin' like a brickyard around here again pretty soon ...

In the Dark

2011-06-26T02:47:00.002-05:00

No lights. Again.

This started last night just before 9. That outage lasted 90 minutes. Then, less than 90 minutes later, the power went out again. And more than THREE HOURS later, it's still out.

I'm extremely grateful that it's not one of those nights where it was still almost 90 degrees at 11 p.m. (like it was just a few weeks ago). We'd die in here. As it is, it's warm because my idiot mother HAD to take a shower. (On SCALD and with no fan to remove the steam.) Nice.

And the mother is making me nuts with her need to be entertained. Right now she has to settle for a transistor radio ... so I can't sleep. And if I go in my room and shut the door -- there will be no air circulating, so that wouldn't be restful either. Basically, I'm screwed.

We went through this same thing last weekend except it was later in the morning and didn't last nearly as long. Enough!

St. Louis History: The Mark Twain Hotel

2011-06-24T06:55:00.017-05:00

Hey, I know that building! The second I saw this postcard, a wave of familiarity coursed through me. Turns out I was right –it just wasn’t the building that immediately jumped in my head. My initial thought was that it was an early photo of this building – the Delany Building.
There are lots of similarities, but the Delany is smaller (five stories versus eight), older (1899 vs. 1908) and a few blocks away. As soon as I brought the photo of the Delany up, I knew that wasn't it. I Googled “Maryland Hotel” and found the Mark Twain. Yes, of course!

From the building’s National Register of Historic Places’ application:
The former Maryland Hotel is an eight-story commercial building located at 205 North Ninth
Street at the northwest comer of Ninth and Pine Streets in St. Louis, Missouri; it was designed in the Classical Revival style by St. Louis architect Albert B. Groves in 1907.

I quickly produced this photo of the Mark Twain that I had snapped last spring.

The elaborate upper cornice is missing as are the narrow second-story balconies above the doorways. But I was more shocked by what was missing in the old photo: the towering Frisco building (which you can clearly see to the right in my shot). If the Mark Twain (formerly the Maryland and later the Baltimore hotel) didn’t go up until 1908, where in the hell is the Frisco Building?! It should be there; it was built in two phases between 1903 and 1906. Perhaps it was nothing more than a case of 20th Century Photoshop …

Unlike many downtown buildings that have made the century mark, this one has maintained constant use for the purpose it was designed: a hotel. It opened Oct. 3, 1908, with the majority of its 250 rooms available at rates ranging from $1 to $2.50 a day. Can you even imagine?! Today, it is a residential hotel, not a temporary stop for weary travelers, mostly salesmen, heading west.

And it has been home to a variety of retail establishments and eateries on its first floor. According to the NRHP:

The lobby of the Maryland Hotel has been remodeled, covering up original marble floors with
carpet, marble and mahogany walls with a laminate, dropping the original 14.5' ceiling to about 8', and partitioning it into smaller spaces.

Oh dear Lord! That made my heart jump – and not in a good way. But then I read on …

The current owners are in the process of uncovering the original flooring and walls where possible, and removing the acoustical tile ceiling and some partitions; the lobby is and will remain about half its original size. Marble steps inremarkably good condition leading upstairs and down to the basement are still in use, marble baseboards are still in place in the lobby, and brass handrails are still in place on the basement steps. These will all be retained.

Whew! What a relief. I was about to go cardio for a minute. People do some really horrible and stupid things to glorious old buildings. I’m glad to see that some of the sins of the past are being rectified here…even if there have been some egregious losses:

The most prominent alteration to the Maryland Hotel was the removal of the terra cotta cornice. There are currently no plans to restore it. Balustrades that formerly crowned the bays windows at the eighth story have been removed. At the second story, a small terra cotta balcony in the center of each of the two ornamented elevations has also been removed.

Boo!! Hiss!!! But, for all those losses, the building has retained so much of its original ornamental detail in rather stellar condition.

Take a look at these bays!

Gorgeous, aren’t they? Can you imagine something like that falling to a wrecking ball? Shudder...

And I absolutely adore these griffins. They are just above street level. Real eye-catchers, no?

But there are even more details as you climb the bays to the top. There are cherubs with a compote and what looks like, to me anyway, dueling genies!

This is the kind of building that could give you whiplash as you jerk your head here and there, trying to take in all the mostly preserved details. So here she stands more than 100 years later in almost all her glory. And, please, let's keep it that way!

Amen.

Write, Rewrite, Rewrite, Write, Rewrite

2011-06-23T10:47:00.002-05:00

One of the hugest challenges of writing is subjectivity. And amping up the angst level of that challenge when you get paid to write are the various layers of often conflicting subjectivity.

This frequently occurs when you have multiple eyeballs providing edits both before it gets to a client and once it arrives. Person A likes it this way. Person B likes it the way you had it five edits back. Person C wants it a completely different way, a way in which neither A nor B like.

And Person D? They can’t tell you what they do or don’t like about any of it; it’s just “not working” for them. We won’t even mention People E, F and G.

Shoot me now.

It’s been one of those weeks where things I’ve written have either sailed through with minimal edits – or been picked apart like a vulture would a carcass. No happy medium. That can make for a long and frustrating workweek, occasionally tempered by a nod from the boss or a client compliment.

Amid all the frustration though, I’ve caught myself being happy. Not happy about the frustration; happy about the writing. Hit or miss, win or lose, it’s in the doing. And I love that!

Does it mean that I love everything I’m tasked with writing? Hardly. Some topics I have to tackle are drier than burnt toast while others are fun and interesting. And then there’s always the writing I do for me, here. Ah, salvation thy name is Blogger.

That doesn’t mean that I won’t threaten on occasion to give up writing, which wouldn’t be unlike suddenly declaring that I’m giving up breathing. I think we all get to the point of threatening anarchy with things and people we love at some point. That’s life.

At the height of my pain this week, my gaze was captured by something on a colleague’s wall. In a simple black frame, in aqua-colored block letters is the phrase: Do what you LOVE what you do.

Yeah. That.

It's a Birthday!

2011-06-22T08:18:00.015-05:00

There's a birthday at our house today! And in honor of the occasion, there are two wrapped squeaky toys on the dining room table.

And someone will be getting broccoli with their dinner tonight. (And maybe even a tablespoon of vanilla icecream afterward.) Hmmm ... I wonder.
Who could it be?!

That's right. It's OZZIE!

Happy 14th Birthday to the best little buddy ever!

Repeat Performance, Plus ...

2011-06-20T07:23:00.002-05:00

Yesterday's weather ended up being a repeat performance of Saturday's weather but with a twist: two hours without power.

Luckily, it didn't get that warm in the house but being kept up from just before 5:30 until just after 7:30 was not my idea of an ideal Sunday morning! I could have just gone back to bed, but with no fan to circulate, it would have been much to warm in my room for sleeping.

The mother woke me up at 5:27 a.m. to tell me we had no power. (Why she couldn't let me sleep and figure that out on my own when I got hot ... who knows?) Just as she said the words, the power came back on. Then went off. Then came back on. Then went off.

And stayed that way. When I checked the Ameren site shortly after 6 a.m., I was told that yes, i had no power; that I was one of nearly 2,500 customers currently without power and that it would be restored by 5:15 p.m. GAH! Luckily, they shaved 10 hours off that time.

Ladybird didn't deal well with the weather, running a bit on the hot side. I'm kind of concerned that maybe she is having some issues, perhaps with the heater core. That could be serious. Going to see what happens over the next day or two, watch her closely and be ready to call Jim the mechanic for help.

She CANNOT die on me yet. I got stuff to haul!!! Plus, she will be our vehicle once Pearl goes into the shop to get the hail damage repaired. This is always the way things seem to go though so I shouldn't be a bit surprised.

Stuck in a Weather Pattern

2011-06-18T21:44:00.002-05:00

It was a hellacrazy week, capped off by storms both Thursday and yesterday.

As a result, I was awakened at 5:30 this morning by the mother with the announcement of “You’d better get up. This doesn’t look good.” When I got up, it didn’t look good. We had both a tornado and sever e storm warning in place. Lovely way to start the day.

Luckily, the tornado warning was pulled within 30 minutes. By the time I tried to get comfy again, the storms were here in full force, lighting up and shaking the house. I’m not sure when I finally fell back to sleep. Last time I remember seeing the clock, it was around 7:30.

It continued to storm for a good chunk of the morning, but that all wrapped up by late morning. The clouds hung around though and it even looked like it could rain again. Finally, the sun came blazing out and the clouds left the scene. I was wishing some of the clouds would have stayed as between full sun and the d*mned humidity, buddy it was HOTTTT!!!

I did a whole bunch of general household stuff and finally went out to mow. It was still a bit wet from this morning’s downpour, but I got it done. I'm a little sunburned and tired and achey but glad to have that behind me. We’re supposed to get more storms later and tomorrow morning … is supposed to be a repeat of this morning.

ARRRGGH! Enough already with this batsh*t weather. Seems like by the time these storms end, it will be time for it to get cold again. I'm totally sick of it. Who's with me?

On Flag Day

2011-06-14T11:47:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, I was parked behind a pickup that had what I thought was a very interesting bumper sticker. It featured the infamous Rebel flag (from the Civil War) and the words: “Love it or leave it.”

Like I said, interesting – albeit a bit flawed.

In the first place, the truck bearing said bumper sticker happened to be parked in Illinois and affixed to a vehicle with Illinois license plates. There was never any question of where “The Land of Lincoln” stood; it was clearly Union or northern territory. Had it been parked in say, Georgia or Alabama … it might not have struck me as so very odd.

To me though the bigger flaw is that the group for whom that flag was a symbol didn’t win the war. You didn’t win and you’re suggesting that someone in the winning territory leave the country? Hmmm … seems like some skewed logic there. Wake up folks, it’s been over for more than 155 years. It really is time to move on.

Especially considering that today is Flag Day, a day set aside to honor Old Glory. Here's my take on Flag Day -- St. Louis style.

A Feathered Friend Scare

2011-06-14T07:22:00.002-05:00

I was greeted by a strange sight last night as I drove down the alley: Frank and Jemmy were in the yard!

They usually stop by very early in the morning (5:15ish), stop in briefly in the afternoon (per the mother) and then they circle back just before dusk (when I put more seeds out). At first, I was delighted.

My delight quickly changed to concern as I noticed that Frank was limping. At one point, he was all but falling over as he tried to eat. For more than an hour, he and Jemmy ate, got quick drinks (from our pool, more on that later) and then Frank laid down. He took a few brief naps, in between hobbling a step or two to get more food and then a drink. And then the cycle would repeat itself.

Meanwhile, our yard was starting to look like Wild Kingdom. Two ducks. Four squirrels. Two rabbits. About a dozen sparrows, a handful of robins, two Cardinal couples -- all within about 15 feet of one another. It was a sight to behold. For just a little while, except for all of the power lines and the din of traffic from our four-lane roadway, it was if we had moved to the country!

As it began to get dark, both Frank and Jemmy were laying in the yard. She was alert; he had his head tucked beneath a wing. This didn't look good. Some time later, he tried to crawl beneath one of the junipers but I think he found the thistly branches too unpleasant and he abandoned that idea, returning to the center of the yard.

I thought we were going to have to watch the two of them overnight -- especially because of the marauding neighborhood cats that we already chase out of the yard when they come to stalk our bunnies. We now own a Super Soaker to deal with the likes of them!

But, just as the last of the sunset color slipped from the sky, Jemmy began to waddle across the yard. When she hit the alley, she took flight. Frank limped along behind her. While he was flying low, he still managed to fly after her. Then they were gone. I walked a few blocks to see if he had fallen down anywhere but saw no sign of them.

Then, early this morning, Jemmy arrived. Alone. The mother and I were panic-stricken.

As I was gathering my stuff and finishing getting dressed, I suddenly heard the mother scream. I tore into the kitchen.

Frank was back!!! And not only was he back, he seemed to be walking OK!!! What a relief. I really worried about them last night and especially overnight as storms rolled through. And, I'm so glad we got to see them both BEFORE even more storms rolled through again. Ugh. (Good news is that the threat of severe weather seems to dry up later today.)

Here's hoping that it was just a freak thing and that he really is doing better.

More Weather Travails

2011-06-13T07:09:00.003-05:00

I'm getting kind of tired of the weather ALWAYS being a "good news/bad news" scenario.

The good news: The weekend was gorgeous with very little rain and SPRING-LIKE temperatures (as opposed to the mid and upper 90s of last week and the week before that). That was extra good news for me because I was on the move most of the weekend with a birthday party on Saturday (with shopping for household stuff and washing a car piled on) and a bridal shower on Sunday.

The better news: We get to keep our spring weather for most of this week.

The bad news: It's supposed to rain every day this week (except maybe Friday) and at least through Wednesday we have the threat of severe weather. Really? Hasn't there been quite enough already, thanuveryfreakinmuch?! Mother Nature just needs to back off for a while. She's been waaaaaay too moody this year already -- and there's still another half of a year left!

Happy Anniversary, Baby

2011-06-10T06:55:00.002-05:00

Got you on my miiiiiihhhiiiiiiiind … I had to finish that thought just so you’ll be hearing the Little River Band the rest of the day. You’re welcome.

But this isn’t that kind of anniversary. It’s a housaversary. And it’s a milestone.

Happy SILVER Anniversary, This D*mn House! While the blog has only been around for a sliver of that existence (2007, or 2008 if you count the year anyone actually started reading it), we closed on the house itself June 10, 1986. The concept of This D*mn House was born shortly thereafter – as a running joke for a syndicated TV show, much like “This Old House.”

And a serial rehab began.

HOLY CARP! On that date in 1986 …
· I had my name on a house mortgage, but not yet on a car title.
· I was not old enough to legally drink.
· I was still in college.

And now it's 25 years later. I am older (as the tinges of gray, beginnings of fine lines and extra pounds will attest) and I hope a lot wiser about many things. I've been trying to find the Polaroids from when we were looking at the house but with no luck.

Looking back, the avocado green linoleum in the kitchen should have been a warning ...

Here's a few other things to consider when you're looking at a house -- particularly an older one.

Closet space. This D*mn House was built in 1940. Each bedroom has a "closet" which would pass as a large kitchen cabinet for most people. People just didn't have as much stuff then and didn't need the space to keep it.

Electrical outlets. Again, because of the time it was built, rooms other than the kitchen weren't really adapted for today's power needs. Most rooms have a maximum of TWO plugs. Most have just one. (Until a few years ago, this included the dining room and a hallway which had NO outlets.)

Lot size. If you compromise and get a smaller home, does the property allow for expansion if you decide later to take that on?

Door size. While 36-inch is pretty much standard today, it wasn't always. During the first years we lived here, we had to widen the front door! Makes it a whole lot easier to get things like furniture and appliances in and out.

Bathrooms. I would never ever never again buy or even rent anything that had less than 2 baths.

So maybe I have gotten a little wiser. And hopefully, if this place doesn't kill me first, I'll get to see it finished, or at least mostly finished. I think it may always be a work in progress.

Men Behaving Badly

2011-06-09T11:58:00.001-05:00

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who got a laugh from Wednesday morning’s news reports that sex-scandaled Congressman Anthony Weiner called and apologized to … wait for it … former President Bill Clinton.

Last night, Jon Stewart’s response: “WHAT?!” Yeah, my thought exactly. Apologizing to Clinton for a sex scandal would be like apologizing to Nero for burning a hole in the upholstery. But then Stewart characterized it better than I could ever have hoped to: “Apologize for what? Copyright infringement?”

It’s been one of the few times I have laughed about this sexcapade saga with the Congressman, his phone cam and his preoccupation with Twitter and his, er, Little Anthony. I think it’s sad personally (I very much sympathize with his wife) but selfishly, I am grief-stricken professionally.

Weiner is one of a few Democratic bulldogs within Congress and God knows with Mr. Milquetoast in the White House, we need every one of them we can get! Weiner could be bombastic and even downright abrasive but it was usually on behalf of some worthy cause, or at least things I find worthy like healthcare, tax reform and the current societal class war.

Weiner is certainly not the first politician – nor, sadly, will he be the last – to be subject to some kind of sex scandal. Politicians are people, after all. They cheat on their wives, pay for hookers (and if you’re a Republican, you can do this and not resign), and lie about all of it just like men who aren’t politicians can.

The timing of this couldn’t be worse. With a new baby on the way, this should be one of the happiest times in his, and especially his wife’s, life. I’m rather doubting it can be at this moment. And professionally? I don’t know that there has ever been more at stake. Our country is having a really difficult time crawling out of the sh*tter that Dubya almost single-handedly drove us into, a situation not at all assuaged by the hijacking of an already radical Republican party by the Teaheads.

Unfortunately, as I’ve seen many a guy do, Mr. Weiner was thinking with the wrong head. And even more unfortunate, is that he will not be the only one to suffer for his misdeeds. It’s already creating rips in the Demo party, rips we can ill afford. I think it’s sad that so many from both sides of the aisle are already calling for Weiner’s resignation.

Sad … but necessary. The longer this drama drags on, the less important stuff gets done. I fear that the near future will bring more – and potentially even more damaging – revelations. So, let’s end it now and get back to business. An article on Salon.com summed it up fabulously: Now, Anthony Weiner is no longer Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Today, he's just a tawdry babydaddy episode of Jerry Springer.

It would figure that once the Democrats finally get some cajones (Obama’s Bin Laden victory not withstanding), some fool feels the inappropriate need to not only take pictures but to post those visuals online.

Racin' for a Cure

2011-06-09T07:01:00.002-05:00

The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is Saturday and in its honor, the Kiener Plaza fountain has turned pink.

Pretty cool, huh?

Organizers are hoping to draw 65,000 people to downtown on Saturday. Here's hoping that they succeed and that they get enough money to help take this blight off womanhood!

The Vantage Point

2011-06-08T11:52:00.000-05:00

What you see depends largely on where you are standing, how closely you are looking and from what angle. That’s why a vantage point is so very important.

Some of my recent photo outings to capture downtown views have proven this more than once. And yesterday, it proved amazingly true as I glimpsed a feature I had never seen before on a building I have seen thousands of times and probably photographed dozens of times.

This is the roofline of the Old Post Office. In the background is the Chemical Building. In the right of the photo, you see the outline of the giant sculpture that graces the roofline (a replica of the real deal that’s kept inside). Now, notice the mansard dome – that big black bulk with all the circles on it. Yeah. Cool portal windows. See those, too?(I’ve always liked those.)

Look along the very top. See the ornamentation? Look closely at the ornamentation. See the faces within it? No? Look closer. See them now?

I never did. Until yesterday. When I snapped that picture.

Even though I had taken this shot of the building a year ago in April.

If you look closely you can see the faces in the mansard. But I didn’t see them then – because my eyes were too busy taking in the bulk of the whole building, from ground level. Then, by having a completely different vantage point (high up and across the street), those previously missed faces were literally right in front of me. A little help from the zoom and they are completely in focus. Pretty amazing, huh?

It made me wonder just what else I’ve been missing – so I started looking around. I think my jaw dropped a dozen times in 30 minutes. (Watch for other missed architectural treasures in the weeks ahead.) It also made me wonder what else I’ve been missing not just in my environment, but in life in general. What else is right in front of me that I’m just not seeing, perhaps because it’s swallowed up by a preoccupation with “the bigger picture” – or because I haven’t moved myself to get another view?

I’m going to blame the MonkeyGirl for part of this line of thought. You see, she gave me a really cool frame last year.
One that, I’m ashamed to admit, had sat unboxed in my office. She gave it to me with a very specific purpose in mind: to display one of those otherwise unnoticed views I was lucky enough to capture. Thanks to my newly discovered vantage point, it is now out of its box and just waiting to be filled by a new discovery.

If you think about it, this frame kind of sums up life.

There are millions of “small things” that go unnoticed every day. Millions! For many, those small things could turn out to be things they care about or that could make them happy. Or that could change their lives.

It’s all a matter of how you look at it. And of where you happen to be when you’re looking.

If something doesn’t look right, try looking from another location (physically, mentally, emotionally). Or, even if you're pleased with the view, just to make sure you haven't missed something spectacular, change your vantage point.

You might be stunned by what you're missing.

Shake, Shake, Shake

2011-06-07T08:43:00.002-05:00

Apparently, we had an earthquake overnight. Really?

According to the National Weather Service report, the 4.2-quaker happened at 3:10 a.m. today about 50 miles southwest of St. Louis.

Mercifully, I slept through it. Didn't even know anything about it until an hour or two ago. That was not the case though back in the spring of 2008 when I awoke to something akin to a scene right out of "The Exorcist." That one though was a little stronger than this one, but not a lot.

And, it shouldn't be a surprise considering that it is originating from the general vicinity of the New Madrid fault. That sucker is long overdue for something bad. Here's hoping that's not what the 2012 calendar is predicting ...

Stupidity that Makes Me Mad

2011-06-07T07:14:00.001-05:00

OK, stupidity in general makes me angry but here are a few specific things from the past few days. All of these are good examples of things that you just don’t think about happening, they’re so surreal. (And it makes the whole Anthony Weiner thing, which has me furious, seem very insignificant indeed.)

Three arrested, accused of illegally feeding homeless
In Orlando, Fla., three people from Orlando Food Not Bombs were arrested for violating a “city ordinance” by feeding the homeless in Lake Eola Park. Seriously? Yes, seriously. I had to reread the headline to make sure I was reading it right. Then I quickly scanned the story to see if they were giving them some kind of bad food. That wasn’t the case at all.

Apparently, they willfully violated this law following a U.S. District Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit in Atlanta ruled that city rules regulating how often large groups of people can be fed in a park do not violate the Constitution.

I’m sorry but that’s some f’d up stuff when we arrest people for feeding hungry people. How can this happen in a nation that has so much freakin’ food that 1/3 of us are overweight? What’s next? Citing Boy Scouts for jaywalking when they help little old ladies across the street?

When Vigilante Justice Goes Awry
I sometimes find myself wanting to take matters into my own hands when I feel an injustice has been done. But this story is a grim reminder of what can happen when an angry mob goes after—and then kills – an innocent man.

Bonded Labor: Modern-Day Slavery
Did you think that the Emancipation Proclamation ended slavery in 1865? Well, I’m not sure it completely did in the United States, but it definitely didn’t do anything to end it in other parts of the world. Can you imagine having your grandchildren being born with the shackle of your debt – and a small amount at that – locking them in place?

This story is just one example of slavery that is alive and well in South Asia.

I can’t imagine having this be my existence. Life is challenging enough, thankuverymuch.

The common thread in all of these stories are disadvantaged and disenfranchised people. We live in a world that is at the height of selfish behavior and in a country where too much is rapidly becoming the definition of “not enough.” Until we as a country and as a global society, learn to care about “the other guy” as much as we do ourselves none of this will ever change.

There are a lot of evildoers and many injustices in this world. What if we each took just one on, every day, even in some small way?

I’m thinking the world might be a much better place very, very quickly.

A Modern Take on a Historical Building

2011-06-06T11:15:00.001-05:00

I love and adore the Arcade Building (8th and Olive) across from the Old Post Office.

After financing fell through on a development deal, it’s just been languishing for years. There was talk of it being torn down. (NO! Absolutely friggin’ not, people!)

Recently though, someone boarded up the uppermost windows which had been almost completely exposed when the plastic that had been covering them deteriorated. I took that as a good sign.

Then, several weeks ago, I noticed these canvases being put into place. I took that as an even better sign. I think they are awesomely cool. Some of the arches, which really are part of the space they are covering, are part of the canvas. On a few others, they’ve left the real arches exposed and fit the canvas neatly inside the arch.

They’re cooler still considering that the pictures inside the arch shapes feature architectural features from other buildings. I recognize three.

One is from the Railway Exchange Building. Why is it familiar? I have a similar photo (that I took) on the wall in my office!

Another is from the American Theater. Again, I recognized it from my own photos of the theater ...

And, the most recognizable, is from the Wainwright Building.

This is one of the ones where they tucked the canvas beneath the actual arch of the entryway/window instead of including a fake version in the canvas. I like the Wainwright well enough. But I much prefer some of Louis Sullivan's other works, especially his other existing St. Louis skyscraper, the Union Trust building. (Yes, I know. Call it sacrilege, but I think they should have torn down the Wainwright instead of the Buder or Title Guaranty buildings.) Even so, I'm glad they didn't and one of that infamous trio survived.

Sullivan supposedly was a mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, though I fail to see much of his influence in Wright's work. Sorry. Again with the sacrilege ... Wright reportedly called the Wainwright Building "the very first human expression of a tall steel office-building as Architecture."

Well, maybe.

Record-setting Heat

2011-06-06T06:59:00.002-05:00

Saturday was unbelievably hot. We supposedly broke a century-old record by reaching 98 degrees. I think it may even have been a little warmer on this side of the river.

Our thermometer in the carport had it at over 100 degrees in the shade. Even Pearl gauged it at 99 at one point. It was so hot that, short of doing some necessity running, I didn’t do much of anything. It was cooler on Sunday by about 10 degrees. Still pretty damned hot but I managed to get the mowing done and washed Ladybird. I also did a walk around to try and guess how many bricks I'm going to need. An initial guess is somewhere between 400 and 500. It will likely be more.

I didn’t make any progress on the bathroom. However, I’ve come to a decision.

With all of the various work that needs to get done, and with June looking more like July in terms of temps (three 96-degree days and a 99-degree day are forecast this week), if it isn’t too sizzling and not raining, I’ll work outside. If it’s too hot and/or raining, I’ll focus on the inside.

Make sense? It does to me so that’s my plan.

More Fun with Bricks

2011-06-03T07:05:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, I need to just shut the hell up.

I need to just not go there and not actually vocalize what may – or may not – be going on in my head. Fall completely silent. Say nothing. I know what happens when I don’t heed this warning. You’d think I would learn. But I don’t.

As a result, I’ve managed to sign myself on for a HUGE, MONUMENTAL, MAMMOTH landscaping project. It involves removing a ton of rocks, laying down miles of thick plastic, digging out several thousand cubic yards of dirt, putting in several hundred bricks as edging, replacing the originally removed rock and reinforcing it with a quarry’s worth more of rock.

See – I told you it was HUGE!

And I still have a brick project already on the books, not to mention a kitchen and bathroom to FINISH. But ... I think all the project work, once I actually get it on track and start making real headway, will be cathartic. It always manages to clear the mind, the body, the soul. I'd be a liar if I said that wasn't a welcome thought.

It’s going to be a long, hot summer.

The Unexpected Guest

2011-06-02T07:07:00.002-05:00

It almost never fails that when I’m trying desperately to get something done, the proverbial fly lands in the ointment.

On Sunday, it was in the form of an unexpected guest. This one had two legs, but also two wings, feathers and a thin coat of down. It was a juvenile robin. Not a baby, but one who was very close to venturing forth on its own. I discovered it quite by accident.

As I was putting out some laundry late Sunday morning, birds were everywhere, many diligently drilling into the soft ground, pulling up worms. I spied another busy at work in my neighbors’ yard, near their pine tree. As I got closer though, it didn’t seem like he was drilling at all. He was flopping around wildly and falling over.

When I got to him, he was on his back. When I righted him, he tried diligently to stand up but promptly fell onto his side. Uh-oh. There he lay, helpless in the sun, open to bugs, the heat and predators. I quickly retrieved a box from the basement.

We have had our share of baby birds at This D*mn House over the years (as well as bunnies, kittens and mice). I know when one is diseased. This one was not. I still donned a latex glove as a precaution but I didn’t see anything that made me think this little guy could pass something on. Instead, it appeared that his entire left side was injured somehow, though there was no sign of damage. It appeared to affect both his left leg and wing, and also his neck as he could not hold his head upright. A neck injury maybe?

Maybe he had flown into my neighbors’ house or garage? It was really windy Sunday. Perhaps in one of its maiden flights, the wind had thrown it off course. Its mother was nearby along with a sibling of similar size who was following her around, shrieking to be fed, occasionally making its own awkward flights to spots not that far off the ground. I hated to upset her but I knew at this point, I could do more for him than she could.

With the help of one of Ozzie’s old syringes, I got a few drops of water into him. I carefully fed him tiny bits of wetted chicken. He eagerly ate, occasionally flipping the food out of his mouth. I wrapped some old rags in paper towels and tried to prop him up in a way that he could be comfortable enough to rest, but the poor thing never could quite get comfortable.

The mother says that it is not always our mission to save; many time it is just to comfort. Such was the case here. A few days of comfort with a bit of food, in a warm, safe place. Unfortunately, that was all I could provide. He could not be fixed.

Our little guest left us around six last night. Seems he was finally able to get comfortable, having gone on to the most loving care of all. Fly on, little one. Fly on.

Time Flies

2011-06-01T05:58:00.003-05:00

Hope everyone had a fabulous holiday weekend.

It's amazing to me just how quickly four days can go! This is my fifth and last day off before heading back to work.

I have done yard work, stripped and skim-coated bathroom walls, taken paint inventory (and purchased new during the Memorial Day paint sale), chosen a body shop and gone there for an initial consult for Pearl's repairs and washed clothes.

It wssn't anything like I'd hoped to accomplish but we've been slowed a bit by an unexpected houseguest. (More on that later.)

Right now, I'm going to grab a quick bite, meet up with my new BFF Advil, and relish the last morning that after awaking before dawn like normal (for a third consecutive day), I can mercifully crawl back into bed for a few hours.

Then, we'll see just what else I can do before tomorrow comes ...

Are You Covered? Sure About That?

2011-05-28T00:17:00.000-05:00

If you’re a DIYer, Memorial Day weekend is generally the equivalent of a religious holiday to all things home-related. So, I’m pretty sure you have a healthy to-do list all written up.

But, while you’ve got this extra time, I’m going to recommend that you move something up to the top of that list: Read Homeowner’s Insurance policy. I’m recommending this for a few reasons. First, with our homeowner’s renewal check going out this week, I became aware of something on my policy that I didn’t know. Second, rates are in rapid rise mode so it might not be a bad idea to comparison shop if you’re renewing soon. Third, recent violent weather – some of which came within three blocks of us.

1. 80 percent coverage. Say what?! If This D*mn House burned to the ground, in order to rebuild it, I’d automatically be $25,000 to $35,000 in debt – beyond insurance’s share, for a property that is PAID FOR. That’s because I didn’t know that we didn’t have 100 percent coverage. Apparently, 80 percent is a minimum and what most mortgage lenders require you (or used to) to carry on your home. Apparently, that’s what we had. A revised policy was sent to us, upping the premium by less than $100. So, which sounds better: Less than $100 now … or up to $35,000 later?

2. Dramatic increases. Our rates went up about 7 percent this year. Not outrageous and not surprising considering the number of claims that they’re no doubt paying thanks to Mother Nature and her endless tirade. But that wasn’t the part of our recent renewal that got me. It was buried on Page 2 in the form of a $1,000 deductible – or DOUBLE our current $500 deductible. OR 10 TIMES the $100 deductible we had prior to July 2006. That is a 500 PERCENT INCREASE in under five years! And the deductible level in mandatory. It used to be that you could pay a bit more in premium to have a smaller deductible. That is no longer the case.

3. Violent weather. It seems almost nowhere is immune to Mother Nature’s wrath this year. And you just never know if it will be your town, your block, or just your house that she’ll choose to level next. If we’ve learned nothing this spring storm season, we’ve learned just how indiscriminate the damage can be. How many times have we seen one or two homes completely obliterated, only to see neighboring homes suffer infinitely less damage? The only thing that would be worse than losing everything or losing loved ones in one of these disasters would be to fall victim to a financial tornado in the aftermath of such tragedy. What about flood insurance? If you live fairly near water, you definitely need to check into it. Homeowners' alone won't cover flood damage.

So, if you haven’t looked at your homeowner’s policy in a while, please do. Use some of this extended weekend to make sure that you’re covered or to pull a list of questions together for your agent if you find out that you’re not.

I think it will be well worth your time.

Heartbroken

2011-05-27T12:21:00.000-05:00

Apparently, the star of HGTV show Carter Can can say, “I do.”

Yep. Sadly, I must report that the world’s sexiest handyman – Carter Oosterhouse –is no longer on the market, ladies.
Oh, Carter … how could you?! It wasn’t bad enough when you started a show called “Red, Hot & Green” … and co-hosted with a different Nicole. That was insulting, but I didn’t complain.

Now you’re off to marry some sweet little blonde thing. Ah! Heartbreaker.

In all seriousness, I hope they will be very happy. Everything I've ever read about this guy, he's the real deal. He does lots of things to support kids and the environment and is just an all-around good guy. Add to that the he is so incredibly hot -- and a talented craftsman ... that's one lucky girl!

Ah, well, I'll console myself with the reality that if I had a handyman that looked like that (instead of dear grandfatherly Lawrence) nothing would ever get done at This D*mn House!

Ready. Set. Paint!

2011-05-27T07:16:00.003-05:00

OK. Maybe I won't be doing actual painting this holiday weekend (or maybe I will, one never knows) but do know that I will be BUYING paint this weekend.

Yes, boys and girls, it's the Memorial Day paint sale at The Home Depot. Now through Monday, get $5 off a gallon or $20 off a five-gallon bucket of Behr, Glidden and other paints and stains. I know I will be buying outdoor white, more paint for the kitchen and possibly more black paint. The black paint will be for the strips of egg and dart molding which arrived from Surface Solutions amid all of the storm craziness that was Wednesday.

Yes, I have an eight-foot box in the middle of the livingroom floor. I'll get it moved later today.

Trying to decide on just WHAT to work on as, when I leave work this afternoon, I won't be back 'til THURSDAY. YIPPPEEEEE!!!!

That's the problem with having so many different projects going on. It's hard to know just where to start ...

The Fun Never Ends

2011-05-26T07:13:00.002-05:00

(This post is actually from Tuesday but because of all the more serious events of that day and the hours preceding it, I didn't post. Since today's forecast is rain -- and just rain -- and cooler temps (as in 20 degrees cooler!), decided to go ahead and post this one. Wednesday was a pretty scary day in St. Louis but it ended up OK.)

Yet another storm front moved through very early Monday afternoon. I don’t know what the wind gusts got up to, but they had to be freakin’ phenomenal. A piece of ¼-inch glass was pulled off of the baker’s rack in the carport and literally hurled behind Pearl, shattering the length of the driveway from carport to street. Unfreakingbelieavable!

I had Pearl covered as a precaution, trying to avoid more damage ‘til I can get her fixed, and the wind (which Lambert clocked at up to 84 mph) tried in spite of the bungee cords to remove it. Ripped the whole rear passenger section of the cover. Oh, and another shutter was peeled off the back of the house, right off one of my bedroom windows.

There are bits of trash all over the yard and the mats I have down to help control the amount of oil that the driveway gets dripped on from Ladybird ended up in the neighbor’s yard. And none of this stuff, except for the shutter, is light.

So, I have to pick up all this little mini-disaster when I get home from work. Fun times.

Trying to do just one more thing before dinner, I run downstairs to grab some birdseed. Wait. Gotta turn on the lights. D*MN! The dimmer switch is permanently dimmed – it won’t switch on. So, the hall light is the only light you get until you can make it to another switch in the middle of the family room. (I’ll add that project to the Lawrence List.)

Once downstairs, I dump the dehumidifier. I notice that it’s not acting right. The compressor doesn’t want to seem to do its job. I guess it’s going to be time soon to get a new one.(This one has been on almost continuous duty for six or seven years. It’s done its duty.)

I finally get the birdseed but as I’m getting to the top of the stairs, I stumble, squishing the plastic container I’m holding a bit. The lid pops off and at least a cup of birdseed goes everywhere. Fabulous. Yet another mess to deal with.

I get that cleaned up and I race through the rest of my evening routine so I can sit down and watch HBO’s “Too Big to Fail.” Tons of huge names. Have been wading through all the hype for weeks. With little more than 38 minutes to go, the TV locks in place. I soon discover that cable is out. It would be out for the next few hours.

Frailty, thy name is Charter! I can hardly wait to kick these guys to the curb.

Downtown St. Louis: Some Olive Street History

2011-05-25T07:10:00.008-05:00

I love downtown St. Louis. But you already knew that. Even so, I got a reminder of just how much in two ways this week.

First, as I virtually trolled through a digital collection of Missouri History Museum photos, I mourned some of the buildings that had perished. It's so hard to look at some of the grandeur I see in these photos and know that someone decided it just wasn't worth saving. Conversely, I got seriously excited as I found images of others that I completely relish during my daily commute.

Then, as I took a lunchtime walk through the actual streets, my spirits were immediately buoyed by the sight of some of my favorite centenarians. Just about every block of the heart of downtown has some old building that has weathered a century or more. And I adore that. The late 19th and early 20th century architects responsible for these gems are among my idols.

Unfortunately, I am a directional idiot so seeing some of these photos tagged as the northeast corner of this intersection or the southwest corner of that, doesn’t help me get my bearings to figure out if the buildings in the photos even still exist. Luckily, I do know enough to recognize certain things. That’s why I was a little puzzled when I saw this photo of Olive Street featuring some of my most favorite buildings.

It’s a photo of the Union Trust building (which I wrote about here) in 1893.

It’s the best picture I have EVER seen of its original round windows that went around its second story. And look at the second-story gargoyles on the corners! I didn’t know it had those.

Wonder what happened to them when some idiot decided to cover over those beautiful windows back in 1924. (Though there’s a lone alley where you can see a precious few. My blog post features a shot of one of those originals.)

Though it was the age of art deco so, by then, some 30 years after it was first built, I guess the plainer front and the gargoyles might have seemed outdated to them.

I easily recognized the domed structure in the background as the Old Post Office. But what’s that rectangular structure between the two?

Beats me. Hey, wait … the Chemical Building is supposed to be there!

Oh, but it wasn’t built until 1896. Guess that could explain its absence, huh?

Then, I happened upon this Olive Street scene from a few years later – 1900 – and a block farther back.

You can see the unmistakable round windows of the Union Trust (and oh, look at those gargoyles!!!!) though the trolley covers the two-story entryway.

Sadly, I'm pretty sure that where that gentleman in the foreground is standing is now the edge of a parking lot. (I hope St. Louis has learned from its shameful history of razing historic structures and turning them into parking lots or garages!)

But just behind the trolley and opposite the power line … is the Chemical Building. (It’s the building with all the bay windows. It’s one of only two in the city with bay windows from bottom to top. The other is the LaSalle Building a few blocks away.)

God, I love this city.

Mother Nature's Wrath

2011-05-24T20:11:00.002-05:00

I had another post all ready to go, but it's all so trivial right now in the wake of more deadly tornados I just can't. It will keep.

I hope that all of my virtual world buds are safe tonight. And, all of my distant family members who seem to be in or very near the storm-struck areas.

Be careful out there PLEASE, everyone. Keep your eye to the sky, listen for warnings, watch radar on TV if you can.

If you have a watch or warning issued, HEED IT! Maybe that time you spend in the basement, the bathtub or closet might seem a silly waste, but sillier still would be for you or your family to lose your lives because you chose to ignore it.

You're all in my thoughts tonight, folks. Batten down the hatches and hopefully, we'll all be OK tomorrow.

Total Devastation

2011-05-24T07:11:00.003-05:00

My heart aches for the people of Joplin, Mo., and its surrounding region. The total devastation and the continually increasing death toll is beyond tragic.

It’s horrible how this can keep occurring each week. Watching that coverage makes me feel more and more lucky to have gotten by with what we did in April.

The silver lining is that they found 17 people ALIVE in the rubble yesterday. I hope it's a trend that continues; I fear that it won't be.

Mother Nature needs to cut them slack so that they continue their rescue efforts. So many have lost so much already. As I usually do, I'll ask that you offer a helping hand if you can. There are so many groups, even individuals in the St. Louis area, who are sending back some of the love that came our direction a few weeks ago.

Sometimes you get what you give.

The End of the World … Again

2011-05-21T00:37:00.000-05:00

It’s the end of the world as we know it.
It’s the end of the world as we know it.
It’s the end of the world as we know it.
And I feel fine. – R.E.M., “It’s the End of the World As We Know It”

Surely by now you’ve heard about the 89-year-old minister who’s predicting “The Rapture” for today. He says the event he’s looking for to herald Judgment Day is a major earthquake. I’d say he’s got fair odds of getting one considering recent major tremors in South America, Japan and Spain.

Even if that does happen, does it really signify the end of the world? Probably not, as similar claims have borne out.

Still, there are those who believe that on May 21 (today) that the righteous (or roughly 3 percent of the world’s population) will be whisked away to heaven. The rest of us? We get to deal with a self-destructing earth for five more months. How would that work, exactly? If you’re on the “nice” versus “naughty” list you magically vaporize? And, if not, you’ve basically signed on for the Apocalypse?

In my lifetime, this is the fourth or fifth time that I can think of that Planet Earth was slated for destruction. In my lifetime! (I’m sure there were several others that I either don’t know about or forgot.) And yet, the world didn’t go kablooey sending life as we know it screeching into oblivion.

The first one I can recall was in 1982, thanks to a mid-1970s prediction from televangelist Pat Robertson that the world would end that fall. (A couple of science writers touted this same theory, citing some kind of planetary alignment that was supposed to set off the San Andreas fault and domino style, take the rest of the world along.) While I didn’t get to go to it, my friend Maria threw an “End of the World” party that has long outlived the dire prediction and is now legendary.

In 1988, there were multiple apocalyptic predictions. I remember these only because that was the year I was graduating from college and I thought, “D*mn. I get this close and I don’t get a degree!” On the bright side, I wouldn’t have had to repay my college loans.

Then, while it wasn’t world-ending, there was the Iben Browning prediction for Dec. 3, 1990. He claimed that on that date, give or take 48 hours, the New Madrid fault area had a 50-50 chance of being the center of a destructive earthquake. And while that wouldn’t have ended the world, per se, it would surely have seriously rocked mine due to simple geography. That didn’t happen either.

And then … Remember all the Y2K hype of 2000? Yeah. Me, too.

So, if you’re reading this, I guess earth’s imminent destruction has been foiled yet again… at least until 2012. And if they’re right?

At least I won’t have to mow the yard.

To the New Graduates

2011-05-20T07:35:00.002-05:00

So you got your college degree … CONGRATULATIONS!

Unless you already have a job lined up, I’m sure the question you’re asking is: Now what? I wish I had a good answer for you. I do, however, have what I hope will be a few words of wisdom.

Like you, I graduated within a few years of a stock market crash, a major financial bailout, rising inflation, tax cuts primarily benefitting the wealthiest among us, an ongoing debate over balancing the federal budget (and during which some Republicans cried as they had to vote multiple times to raise the national debt ceiling), and geographic unemployment challenges.

The unemployment rate was just below 7 percent then, a number that would look good by today’s standards. But, the area in which I lived and still do, was not flush with opportunities for a still wet behind the ears communications major. When I got the chance to apply at a local newspaper a few weeks after I “officially” graduated, I leapt. Two weeks later, I began my first “career” job.

It would be both a blessing and a curse.

It was a blessing to have a job, especially one related to my degree. It was an incredible training ground supplying insight and experience I could never have gotten in school. It was a curse to have a starting salary that paid only marginally more than the part-time civil service job I gave up at the university. And, it became even more of a curse because I stayed there way too many years. I was reminded of this by an article in the New York Times about today’s college graduates and the bleak outlook for their immediate futures.

“If you don’t move within five years of graduating, for some reason you get stuck where you are,” one expert in the story says. Oh, how right that is! Here's some other advice:

• Don’t be complacent. At least until you get that first job or two under your belt, always keep looking.
• Take every job seriously – even the minimum wage ones with no direct ties to your “career.” The people you work for in these jobs may appear again later in your life and be in a position to help you along and be willing to do so if they have a good memory of your work. Don’t burn bridges!
• Be realistic. You probably aren’t going to waltz into your dream job with a huge salary. (A Rutgers study showed the median starting salary for students graduating from four-year colleges in 2009 and 2010 was $27,000, down from $30,000 for those entering the work force from 2006 to 2008.) If you get an offer in this ballpark for a job you can do, ideally in your field of choice, think of it as an investment in on-the-job training – and something besides your part-time work record that you can put on your resume.
• Network. Think of everyone and anyone you’ve ever known who works in a field or at a company that you might like. Talk to them. Seek their advice. And, if you can, enlist their help. Many times it really is just as much about who you know as what you know, particularly as you start out.
• Always save Face(book). This wasn’t an issue in my day but in the age of everything is on the Internet, be very mindful of what you put out there on blogs, Facebook, MySpace, etc. It ceases to be all in good fun when a prospective employer stumbles upon less than savory photos or other college exploits.
• Consider internships. Many companies offer paid internships, positions that are often filled by candidates a semester or two past graduation. I know firsthand several former interns who work as staff today because they took a chance and showed what they could do during 90 days or so. Even those who weren’t hired, now found they had some great new references – or they were introduced to people outside the company who could offer them other opportunities.

The Ballad of Frank and Jemmy

2011-05-19T07:23:00.005-05:00

After a morning downpour,
into our drive you strode.
Somewhere in our neighborhood,
you've settled into your own abode.

While we thought your stay was temporary
And looked upon you as a guest,
I'm more of the mind to think now
That you've set up a duckling nest.

To help you get things going
And meet your many needs
You'll always find a ready supply
Of fruit and bread and seeds.

And so it is with great joy
An announcement I do make
That This D*mn House is now home to
Jemima Puddleduck and Sir Francis Drake.

And so goes the ballad of Frank and Jemmy ...

A Hail of a Lot of Money

2011-05-17T07:47:00.002-05:00

Before the (Not So) Good Friday storms that rocked the St. Louis metro area, there was the Tuesday before Easter. On that day, hail fell at This D*mn House not once, but twice, within 12 hours.

My group had clients in town and we were supposed to get the company suite at Busch for a game that Tuesday night. But because the National Weather Service was already posting warnings over the prior weekend, by Monday, those plans were cancelled. ( As was the game following the storm the next night.)

If I’d still had plans to go to the game, I would have driven that day. In fact, even though those plans were canceled, the early morning warnings calling for hail were enough to make me think I should drive anyway. I came very close to doing so because Pearl would have safe haven inside a downtown garage rather than have her rear exposed in our carport. I almost drove that day. Almost.

But then I thought of the stretch between Illinois 3 and the McKinley Bridge. It’s a fairly desolate stretch – either with nowhere to seek shelter or nowhere you’d want to – so I figured Pearl’s chances were better in the carport.

I figured wrong.

I made it to work just fine but the HUGE hail (golfball at least) started in within 15 minutes of my arrival. I got a panicked call from home in which I could actually hear the hail beating the hell out of the house. I knew Pearl was under siege and cringed. D*MMIT! I’ve I’d driven, Pearl would have been safe!

Before round 2 of the hail hit (more of a pea-sized variety, fortunately), I made it back home and while it was still raining a bit, I had to go out and check Pearl. I immediately noticed a half-dozen or so good dents in the trunk lid. Not too bad, all things considered. It would be several more days though before I would get a clearer picture of the damage.

When I washed her that weekend, I actually felt before I saw the array of tiny pits on the lid. Sh*t! That’s going to require a new trunk lid, I thought. Since then, I’d found a few more dings on the rear quarter panel and one leading to the roof, all on the side that was open to, while not directly exposed to, the elements. That’s because we hadn’t had much in the way of sun and Pearl’s iridescent surface can mask a multitude of sins without direct bright light.

And Saturday, when I took Pearl to the insurance adjuster’s for an estimate, they found even more damage. In fact, they identified nearly $2,400 in damage in total. While it is comparatively less than all my neighbors’ claims that I’ve heard thus far, I still think it’s a buttload of money. And it makes me sad. Say heh freakin’ looooo to higher car insurance!!!!

But, I have to get her fixed. I think I’ve identified a body shop, so I’ll need to call them up and take her for a visit.

Fine Feathered Friends

2011-05-13T11:44:00.008-05:00

Saturday morning, ahead of the sun, the mother bolted into my room and awakened me from a very pleasant and peaceful slumber. The weekends are the one time of the week that I am not dressed and out the door, usually well before sunrise, so I relish these early morning extended visits to the unconscious realm.

“Hey!” she cried. “C’mere. Quick. There’s a mallard duck and his mate out in the driveway.” Without completely opening my eyes, I muttered, That’s nice. And then returned immediately to my prior state.

But within 15 minutes, she was back. And insistent. “Aren’t you coming?” she half yelled. “I thought you’d bring your camera.”

Did she honestly not see that I hadn’t stirred? No. Let me sleep, I protested grumpily. Dammit, I know what ducks look like. Big deal. But it was no use. This time she had succeeded in pulling me from Dreamland and I would not be able to return as easily as before. So, I got up. And I got my camera.

Unfortunately, there were too many challenges to get a decent shot. 1) A bleary-eyed photographer, still in a mild state of protest; 2)a funky camera angle through a multi-paned and grubby window; 3) a dying set of batteries which was making auto-focus go bananas; and 4) two moving targets.

These are the best of the half-dozen shots I did take. Not very good. Oh well.

In between myriad activities on Wednesday afternoon, I got a call from the mother. “They’re back!” she exclaimed. “They’re out there right now with the squirrels, eating.” We regularly put seeds, moldy bread and fruit out for the menagerie of creatures in our yard – bunnies, squirrels, robins, sparrows, a lone pair of cardinals, an occasional raccoon or owl.

Arriving home, the first thing I noticed is that they were still in the yard, eating happily. I quickly ditched my stuff and emerged from the house, camera in hand. It’s the only way you’ll ever see me shoot a duck.

They were out there again last night, near dusk. I watered down the driveway in a section we don’t drive on so they had pools to pick from but they diffidently waddled off instead. If I see them tonight or over the weekend, I guess they’ll have to be officially added to our creature collection – and may warrant names.

It’s Time to Go Home

2011-05-11T11:37:00.000-05:00

PUTTING THIS BACK UP AS BLOGGER DELETED IT
(I wrote this post a few weeks ago – roughly April 21. In all the confusion of recent world events and Mother Nature’s local wrath – not to mention daily life – I never got around to posting it. My sentiments remain the same so I decided to share, albeit a bit late.)

"I'm angry. Waste always makes me angry, and that's
what all this is, sheer waste." —Rhett Butler
(Clark Gable) to Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh) as the citizens of Atlanta mourn
their dead upon learning of the Southern defeat at Gettysburg in GONE WITH THE
WIND.

Man, am I with you, Captain Butler.

That quote popped in my head after hearing that not one, but two, award-winning photojournalists were killed in a Libyan grenade attack yesterday. All I could think was, “All that talent … wasted.”

I think that both Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros would disagree. It takes a certain kind of individual to be a journalist. And it takes an even narrower breed to be a foreign correspondent. And then, there are those who dedicate themselves to war coverage. Some people will tell you that they were crazy or stupid for taking on such an assignment.

While I’m sure that both of them possessed some kind of daredevil/thrill-seeker gene, they both were passionate about a different role they played: communicator.

I consider myself a communicator, both personally and professionally. As a former journalist, I fully appreciate the impact a story or a photo can have, even at the local level. So, put that on steroids, crank it up a couple thousand times and you can begin to recognize the value of what these guys were doing. They put a face, or more accurately faces, on our foreign war fronts. And in most cases, those faces belonged to young American males, far from home, often questioning what they were doing, most scared sh*tless but putting up brave fronts to conceal it.

They also put a face on the many nameless and often unseen figures: the civilians whose lives are in complete and utter upheaval by the violence that surrounds and regularly permeates their personal space daily.

Hetherington and Hondros gave them a face and a voice. Most notably for Hetherington in the award-winning documentary Restrepo, and for Hondros, in a body of still images illustrating the stories of countless masses in the U.S. and abroad. My God, those pictures!

What makes me angrier still is the continued collective carnage in the Middle East. We aren’t winning hearts and minds. We’re losing limbs and brain capacity and the potential of so many young lives. It’s wasteful. And it must stop.

Now.

You Asked

2011-05-11T07:48:00.001-05:00

Recent email query: When are you going to review some more stuff?

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by this question. I’ve been getting lots of recent hits on several reviews – some even a few years old – including caulk guns and caulk, our Dyson canister, my Kindle, the Twin Draft Guard and the TroyBilt lawnmower that was sent to me to review last summer.

Hmmm … good question. I wish I knew the answer. It isn’t like I don’t have things to review.
A hard floor steamer that has never been taken from the box. Ditto that for a tool I won – a year ago.

YIKES! Seems like I’m more than a bit overdue. So, thanks for asking! I'm thrilled that my opinion seems to matter.

I’ll see what I can do to get ToolTalk revived.

Next Up

2011-05-10T16:29:00.000-05:00

I think that next up on the to-do roster is the bathroom. It's logical because I think it's the one room where I actually can finish things. There is, of course, quite a ways to go.

I have to finish the walls, wallpaper and paint. do some minor flooring repairs and put down quarter-round and … I think we’ve had a slight change of plans when it comes to the ceiling trim. Instead of using the thin egg-and-dart molding I’d bought to complement the existing thick wood trim in the bathroom, I think I’m going to go back to the proprietor of the Michelangelo project and spring for the egg-and-dart molding they sell which complements the ceilings.

You remember, right? Like in our kitchen.

Mind you, this was before I painted the cabinets (most of them anyway) AND before the arrival of our stainless appliances. This was June 2009, right after the ceiling and trim were finished.

In the bathroom though, the trim will be black, not silver. And the mother will have to paint it. And she will be unhappy about that. But, I think she will be far happier with the end result since she has recently said several times that she doesn’t like the wood in there now and isn’t sure about putting up the additional thin egg-and-dart in white.

Whatever. See, this is the problem in having almost TWO YEARS pass between the time you start a project and the time you, um, start the project and just stop. It gives her an opportunity to change the plan. Well, with the mother, that’s always an option, but when you give her almost two years to think about, it’s practically a given that she will not like something she liked then. (She already doesn’t like the floor. But, that’s just tough sh*t. I like it. It cost a bundle. It was a pain to put down. It ain’t coming up!)

At this point, you could put up rainbow-colored yardsticks for trim once the wallpapering is done and I’d likely nod in approval. OK. Maybe not that, but … you get the idea that I’m anxious to get something, anything off this massively growing list, right?

Memorial Day weekend is comin’, baby.

On Mother's Day

2011-05-08T18:44:00.002-05:00

Being a parent is hard work. Being a parent on your own is 10 times harder.

I don't speak from firsthand experience -- but from secondhand. It’s one of the only silver linings I’ve found in having missed out on motherhood. I know that if I’m honest with myself, I might well have repeated, in many respects at least, my own childhood. (Definitely not a good idea.) And I know that it would not have been as easy as many of my friends (very much to their credit) make it seem.

I can’t imagine having the awesome responsibility of creating, caring for and molding another human being. The complexity of it does not escape me. I think it is one of the ultimate things that anyone can do and one of the most arduous tasks that can ever be undertaken.

So, it is with the maximum amount of love and respect that I offer a sincere thank-you to the person who embodies my longest relationship: the mother.

Things probably would have been easier (and a lot more enjoyable) had she not taken her parental responsibilities to heart and made them a priority. No, make that the priority, in her life. I can’t count the times I’ve wondered what might have become of me if she had decided to conveniently forget that she had a child and focus only on her own wants and needs. (It’s a chilling thought, considering that I had one parent who did just that.) And she easily could have, too.

But she didn’t.

And while it’s not always been the easiest of relationships, I know that I am loved, I have always been cared for and I have always had someone in my life truly in my corner, someone who has wanted for me many times more than I even want for myself. Someone whose enduring love, trust and respect are sometime more than I deserve.
And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there. Especially to mine.

Rise and Shine

2011-05-05T07:45:00.000-05:00

For two consecutive mornings, the sun has come out at sunrise. Doesn’t sound like much of a feat unless you have been a party to its daily dose of cloud cover for far too long. Sometimes you have to be grateful for the smallest of things.

Rain is back in the forecast for this afternoon/evening. Even so, I’m beyond grateful for the temporary break. The sun began to greet me on the trip in, a small sunbeam focusing with laser-like precision on my face. It was so intense, it distracted me from my Kindle (and a rereading of Sinclair Lewis’ Babbitt) long enough to don sunglasses.

It was becoming so bright as we trundled into downtown that it cast an eerie glow around Homeless Guy who was sitting on a bench, his giant quilt still rumpled before him. (Normally, he is still inside it, huddled next to the adjacent steam vent as we pass.)

As I depart the bus, I am greeted by not one, but two bus drivers passing by, both of them former drivers of either my route in or out of downtown. Vita waves wildly and honks as I cross in front of her stopped bus. As he passes, Jimmy throws open his door, waves and shouts, “Mornin’, Sweetie!” I gladly return both their greetings.

Those exchanges garner me a concentrated stare from Chicken Man, one of the street vendors. He is parked on the corner, still sitting in his SUV before starting to set up his grill where he cooks brats and chicken for the lunch crowd. (I see this guy just about every day and have even attempted a few “good mornings.” He is not a friendly dude. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt though. Maybe he hasn’t had his coffee yet – it is only 6:45, after all.)

In the next block, I recognize one of the security guards as he exits Starbuck’s. He grins and waves with his free hand. As he rounds the corner, a maid from one of the hotels appears. We exchange smiles as we pass.

As I enter the store downstairs to claim my own cup of coffee, M.’s familiar voice bellows, “Good mooooooooooornin!” from the back of the store. That makes me grin and I yell back. The only truly unfriendly morning exchange comes from the coffee machine.

Instead of sputtering and drizzling a stream of cappuccino down my hand (per usual) before beginning to fill my cup, it employs a new tact: It stalls – and then erupts with a stream that jumps over the cup and pours onto the floor – and my feet.

Not enough to dampen my mood though. It’s going to be a good day. Hope you have one, too.

Groceries and Rainbows

2011-05-03T07:21:00.004-05:00

I’m always chasing rainbows … Yeah, that’s me, both metaphorically and in real-time. I’m a sucker for arcs of color in the sky.

As I sat at my desk last Thursday, I witnessed one of the weirdest weather patterns that I have ever seen. Ever. At least four times during the early afternoon I saw it shower, occasionally pretty heavily -- and mostly while the sun was shining brightly. And usually against the backdrop of a slate gray sky. Bizarre!

I periodically got up from my desk and attempted to view various angles of the sky, looking for the rainbow that just had to be there. I didn’t see it.

As evening arrived and I made my way home, the weird weather continued. Sun. Sun with rain. Gray sky. Grayer sky. Rain. Rain with sun. And as I neared the grocery store where I’d planned a quick stop, the rain stopped once more, slowing to a fine mist.

As I parked and then exited Ladybird, the sun again began to cut through the gray clouds – and the rain began anew. With it, I spied a widening rainbow arc. I quickly rifled through my bag and grabbed the camera.

I got some strange looks as I stood in the middle of the grocery store parking lot, a light shower falling, snapping away. But I didn’t care.

Pretty soon, people began to point not at me but at the rainbow forming over Arby’s. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the rain stopped.

The colors of the rainbow began to fade. I went inside to shop.

I was inside only a short time. As I walked to the car, the rain returned. First very lightly but by the time I had loaded the trunk and returned the cart, coming down at a good clip.

And the sun came out again.
As I was driving home, this is what was in front of me.

I hurriedly pulled Ladybird into a parking lot. More stares as I ran here and there to capture this.

Ask me if I care.

Is It Wrong to Rejoice?

2011-05-02T07:15:00.002-05:00

Five words on the bottom of the TV screen, which had been cut into a mosaic featuring a live broadcast on one side and stock footage on the other, immediately grabbed my attention: Osama bin Laden is dead.

What?! I read the line again and gasped. The mother had just caught up with me. It was a stunner to see after flipping to our local news after watching various History Channel shows during the evening.

I was equally stunned to see the revelry taking to the streets across the country. Mind you, I'm not condemning it. I just don't plan to go yell in the street or anything. No. My option is much more subtle.

The old comedienne Moms Mabley said it best: "They say you shouldn't say nothin' about the dead unless it's good. He's dead. Good."

Amen.

If You Can, Offer Your Help

2011-04-26T07:17:00.002-05:00

As scenes of the local devastation continue to dominate news coverage in the St. Louis area, there's one thing we can't claim: loss of life.

After a series of violent storms in Arkansas last night, seven people died. Twice that many have been killed in storms just this month.

All of our local news stations have been collecting money for the Red Cross to help local victims. I can't imagine what it must be like to suddenly find yourself without a home and everything in it. Worse still, I can't imagine that topped with having lost loved ones.

So, if you're like me, and you escaped the St. Louis storms unscathed, do what you can to help those who weren't so lucky -- not just here, but all over the country. With all the destruction and with all the rain, now there will be another round of tragedy in the form of flooding.

Whether it's a donation of cash, supplies or volunteering in some way, if you are able to, I urge you to help any way you can. The way these storms have been ripping through on a seemingly endless course, you never know when the person needing help might be you ...

Just a Few Blocks Away

2011-04-23T18:50:00.003-05:00

I went for a walk early this afternoon. I circled the house twice and walked the entire property line. Nothing. Whew.

But within three blocks of This D*mn House, I was astounded by what I saw.

Sadly, this is home to an ill, elderly couple. They did not need this. I stood there for several minutes staring at what was left of their garage. Their roof is in tatters.

These are places I go by nearly every day. And last night, you couldn’t get within 200 yards of them. Still today, there is a side street a block from this devastation that the police won’t let you go down because there is even worse damage.

This is the front of a convenience store where they come out to your car to take your order. (We frequent them for sodas.)

And these scenes were all too common.

I continue to be astounded by what I see from across the river. (Our cable, which went out shortly after we got an “all clear” around 9 last night, finally came back on well after 3 this afternoon so I’m just now getting caught up on those images. They are frightening and heart-wrenching. Those poor, poor people!) They’re saying this is the worst tornado to hit St. Louis since 1967.

As we huddled in the basement last night, I grew more and more concerned as I could hear the distant TV tracking the storm as it grew ever closer.

And to think, if it had come just a few more blocks. Not miles. Blocks.
Grateful doesn't even begin to cover it.

Weathering the Storm

2011-04-22T23:31:00.000-05:00

Ay yi yi. What a night!

But … we have power. This D*mn House is still standing – and in tact.

Some of my neighbors can’t say the same. Just three blocks away, our road is closed due to major damage including debris, flooding and downed power lines. Police and fire crews are all over the place. About six blocks in the other direction, MORE serious damage.

We spent nearly an hour in the basement but the storm went OVER and AROUND us. I am so grateful

We listened intently to the radio – and what I could hear of the TV from downstairs – as the storm drew closer and closer. I heard reports of a tornado at Lambert Airport. (We’d later heard that the airport suffered significant damage and it is now closed.)

I worried about family and friends and made some contact as soon as I could get a signal.

Our cable is out. That’s the worst of it.

I’m feeling pretty fortunate right now. Pretty fortunate indeed.

The 50-50 Split

2011-04-18T08:56:00.008-05:00

The weekend was an even mix of work and play. It started out with play and a National Scrapbook Day event, meaning hanging all day with the MonkeyGirl, Harriet and A. (We missed you MamaMartha!) It was just the therapy I needed. It went by all too quickly. Good friends, very good eats, relaxation and catching up on my photo documenting, something I haven’t done since Camp back in January!!! I managed to get 12 pages done and a 13th one nearly so. It was more than I thought I’d finish, but not as much as I’d have liked. I’m still trudging toward the end of 2007 (I do my albums chronologically) and I would dearly love to start 2008 before the end of THIS year. Sunday was all work though I didn’t start until after noon. I mowed, swept, dumped, cleaned and cleared and then carefully assessed the outdoor projects that I really need to do. These include: 1) The “mystery” project involves removing the rotting wooden ties from around the base of the shed’s foundation and replacing them with a bricked edge. Should be a nice way to tie in all of the other brickwork with the back of the house. 2) Putting some bricks or concrete blocks along the edge of the front walkway 3) Same for around the base of the mailbox 4) Ditto that for the rock – but not until after I take it all up, put down several layers of plastic as a weed barrier and then put the rock back. 5) I need to repeat steps 2 and 4 on the side of the house, out back by the patio and around the birdbath and in front of the smaller section of fence out back Whew! Wears me out thinking about it. It really needs to be done though to try and keep the weeds under control and to keep the rocks contained and from getting under the mower. If we have a spring/summer like last year, there’s no way I can hope to do all of this. (Last year, it either poured down rain or was so miserably hot that you didn’t dare work outside for any length of time.) So, I guess we’ll see how cooperative Mother Nature is this year and just how much time, energy and money I manage to have all at the same time!

Historic St. Louis: The Roberts Orpheum

2011-04-15T08:08:00.014-05:00

One of my favorite destinations during my regular downtown walks is the old American Theatre. "Old" in that it is rapidly approaching the century mark, and old in that unless you've been in St. Louis for a while, you wouldn't know it once was the American. When the Beaux Arts style Orpheum Theatre opened at Ninth and St. Charles streets in 1917, Hollywood films were in their infancy. It would be more than a decade before "talkies" would arrive and begin rapidly extinguishing the fire of vaudeville theater.

Downtown St. Louis was once home to a variety of movie houses and theaters. The original American Theater was part of a hotel built a decade earlier (in 1907) and a few blocks away. It was demolished in the 1950s to make way for -- what else? -- a parking lot! Today, the Orpheum/American remains the last of its kind, following the senseless demolition of the Ambassador in 1995/96.

From the 1930s to the 1960s, it was a movie house. During the 1970s and 1980s, it had an occasional theater offering but became better known as a concert venue, hosting the likes of Pearl Jam (who filmed a video there), the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Alicia Keyes, Dave Mathews Band, Tori Amos, Phish, the Black Crowes and Nelly. It was during this period that this beautiful old building made it onto the National Register of Historic Places. After that distinction and continuing its long run of concerts from up-and-coming performers, the poor building sat. And sat. It might well have seen the fate of downtown's other performance venues at one point. For much of the last decade, it’s been owned by Mike and Steve Roberts, St. Louis brothers who now possess much of historic downtown. To their credit, they undertook a major rehab of this glorious old building and even restored its original Orpheum name. The theater is rented out for private gatherings and even still manages to host live performances a few times a year. I've got to get back there one of these days! For now though, I'm content to know that it's there and to take in the lovely views its exterior affords. The day that I took these photos (which was last spring) a woman was walking with two young children in tow. The elder of the two, a boy no more than 10, suddenly charged several yards ahead of his mother, wildly pointing at the building's roofline. "Looooook, Mommmy!" he yelled. "I see lots of faces." There are, indeed, DOZENS of faces that make up this gorgous cornice. And the fact this future little architecture buff noticed was more gratifying to me than I can describe.

To my delight, they were only momentarily distracted by my presence as the mother then became just as absorbed in the architecture as her son. Had I been smarter, I would have offered to snap a photo of the trio outside the theater and offer to email it to them. Though it might have been an awkward offer to extend, I'd like to think it would be a nice memory for them.

I know that it is for me.

On Housing and Mortgages

2011-04-12T04:58:00.003-05:00

I would LOVE to move.

It would be awesome to have a home with more space, “real” closets (as opposed to our imaginary ones), a garage (at LEAST one-car, preferably two), more than one postage stamp-sized bath, a sunroom or an open out onto patio area … I could go on and on and on. In many cases, I’m sure you could, too.

It’s just that getting those things would require selling This D*mn House, taking on a mortgage again – and considerably larger than the one I paid off a few years ago – and a highly elevated rate of taxes and homeowner’s. I wouldn’t be hot for that plan in a good economy, but in an uncertain one? Yeah. We’re staying put.

Even with all the daunting work ahead, work that won't net any of the things I so long for listed above ... Funny. We’re not alone. There was an article in the Chicago Tribune last week talking about how redoing is far outpacing relocating. For many folks making that choice, it’s the state of the housing industry. And no wonder!

I couldn’t believe that there are currently more than 2.2 million homes more than 90 days behind on the mortgages. Add to that, that it can take almost two years between the time of foreclosure and time of actually vacating the premises. Two years.

Not that I’m faulting the people. So many have lost their jobs in recent years, you can’t help but sympathize. You’d think those numbers would be daunting enough that banks would want to work with people to keep them in their homes. I mean, almost two years rent-free and then who knows how long on the market and at what loss? (Sometimes people gut homes after foreclosure; I saw one recently and couldn’t believe how the residents had raided it. They took a BATHTUB!!!)

It’s all good news for the home improvement business. But for the housing industry, it sure sounds like it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better.

“Firsts” of the Season

2011-04-11T17:57:00.002-05:00

It was soooo hot over the weekend. You could have told me it was July and I’d have believed it.

The temperatures marked a series of “seasonal” firsts. That’s because we were very warm on Friday and then at or near 90 both Saturday and yesterday. Trust me when I say it made for one hot house. We toughened up and made it through several back-to-back unseasonably warm days recently, but after tossing and turning Friday night and being too miserable to even sleep in on Saturday, I decided enough was enough.

I had the air up and running that afternoon. Before I turned it on though, I hooked up the hose, removed the wood we keep on top of the A/C unit during its downtime, and rinsed the unit off. I attempted to buy some new tubing for the drain because the old one is looking a might poorly but I’m still not sure if it will fit or not. (Every time I would think about checking, the A/C kicked back on; I never had the forethought to shut it off so I could check. Doh!)

I picked up a new filter while I was out and about Saturday and changed it that night. (A spring thing to do if you haven’t lately!) Then yesterday, I got the mower out. I mowed and then I trimmed the neighbor’s tree (he doesn’t) because it had branches that were dangerously close to both the carport roof and to Ladybird in the driveway.

I took all those clippings to the dump and then washed Ladybird on the way home. Poor thing. She was covered in dead buds and leaves and goop and other tree debris from said tree that budded during warm weather a few weeks ago only to have those blooms perish in the snow a week later. I pulled weeds, too. The ground was still a little damp from early-morning rain so it wasn’t the monster of a chore it normally is.

The wind (which was blowing a steady 15-20 mph most of the afternoon and occasionally gusting to 35-40) made things a bit challenging. I had wanted to start on my latest brick project but it would have been a nightmare in that wind.

This coming weekend is going to be damp and quite chilly (40s and 50s) so I guess it won’t be happening then either. Talk about extremes! Welcome to weather in St. Louis.

Shut ‘er Down

2011-04-08T17:59:00.001-05:00

If you regularly read this blog (or if you did when I was actually contributing regularly to it) you knew I couldn’t let all this political BS slide. Right? Not in the mood for a rant? Sorry. Move along now then, please.

First things first. Donald Trump is an a**hat.( An egotistical blowhard a**hat at that.) The very sight of him makes me want to puke. Unfortunately, he’s everywhere. Yeah, he’s a billionaire. So what? Money definitely isn’t a guarantee of sense or principles. Direct quote that made me want to hurl something at the TV yesterday: “I’m only interested in Libya if we keep the oil.”

Well of course you would be, a**hat. You don’t give a sh*t about Americans, so why would you care about Libyans? Definitely the kind of attitude I know I want from the leader of the Free World – NOT! I’m wondering where dear Donald was during the EIGHT YEARS of the Bush administration as the country went hurtling down the path to hell. (The one we’re on, according to him. Um, exactly who put us there?) Sir, kindly take that dead animal that lives on your head and go back and crawl under your rock.

Whew! That felt great. Continuing on …

DENYING HEALTHCARE TO DISADVANTAGED WOMEN IS NOT A GOOD REASON TO SHUT DOWN THE GOVERNMENT. ( I’m hoping that this shutdown can be avoided tonight, but I’m not holding my breath.) Don’t want public money to fund abortions? Fine. That’s been the law of the land for some time now anyway. (But wait, I forgot. You folks aren’t very good with American history, even in the current century.)

But to not want to fund pap smears, cancer screenings, mammograms – seriously? This is the place where many women turn for such “routine” care because they couldn’t afford it otherwise. If you’re one of the dumba** legislators in favor of this, then I think you should tell your wife/daughter/sister/mother to cancel any and all such screenings. Wouldn’t dare do THAT, would you? Didn't think so.

Oh, right. I keep forgetting ... these are the people who don’t give a d*mn if anyone has healthcare—‘cept them of course. (I remember one of these freshman Teaheads going all whiny because he had to wait XX number of days for his healthcare to go into effect. Welcome to the ranks of the 32M you could care less about, sweetie!)

Between Paul Ryan’s “budget” and this Congressional stalemate over women’s healthcare, I can only conclude that the Republican and/or Teahead healthcare plan for the old, impoverished, or otherwise disadvantaged can be boiled down to two words: DIE ALREADY!

And I have never ever never been able to understand how people can see contraception and abortion as mutually exclusive. Don’t like abortion? Guess what – contraception can be your best friend! Oh, yes, there’s abstinence, of course. But people are human. They generally forget a lot about what they’re supposed to do/not do when hormones come a’ calling. And sometimes, contraception fails.

While I support a woman’s right to choose, it’s not something I personally could do. But hey, I don’t think that should be imposed on everyone. I totally support someone who wants to decry abortion – I just don’t agree with them. I have just one beef with the “radical” side of the pro-life movement (of which I think some legislators are definitely a part of). Some of these same legislators are busy “defunding” education and the very social programs designed to help the women they’d like to see forced to give birth! *stops to scratch head*

Yeah, go ahead and tell me how much you care about kids as you eviscerate education. Go ahead. I’m listening.

Your respect for the unborn is admirable. Too bad that same passionate concern doesn’t apply to the millions who are already here.

A Project

2011-04-08T16:38:00.000-05:00

It’s my own fault, really. I’ve waited so long to start back on house projects (having done pretty close to nothing for several months). In fairness, work has been busy and sinus/allergies have been awful. Making it through work and tending to the basics (groceries, laundry, car maintenance) has taken what little spare time and energy I’ve had of late. Poor little blog has been frightfully neglected. But during all that inactivity, the mother couldn’t help herself but to see beyond the already as yet undone. Yes, that’s right. With all this downtime, she has had plenty of time to think up yet another project. One that will require the cooperation of Mother Nature to complete. And one that will probably take twice the 150 bricks I purchased and hauled last weekend. (I can pick up some extra when I go to get some mortar mix.) But with rain and wind in the forecast, that’s not exactly conducive to brickwork, especially to brickwork that will be completely exposed to the elements. I’m hoping to at least get started this weekend but that’s still a big question mark at this point. Any guesses on the mystery project? Here’s another hint: My “stone patio” is involved.

Yo-Yo Snow

2011-03-28T07:50:00.002-05:00

Look carefully, folks, because the view may not last long. This is what I found when I went outside late Saturday afternoon. In all, we got nearly 4 inches of snow Saturday. Even on the early evening news, they were telling people to stay home if they could; the roads were funky. But by early Sunday morning, it was already disappearing. By Sunday afternoon, you'd have been hard pressed to prove that it snowed at all, save a few clumps scattered throughout the yard and lingering in the shade of the trees.

It wasn't much. It didn't last long. But, it was enough to send the poor trees that had bloomed a very nasty message. Those poor things! Today, their blooms are brown and falling off. And the even more fun news? We get to maybe repeat this whole cycle again tomorrow!

Aw, c'mon already ...

I don't want it to be 90, but I sure do want to be done with this stuff.

Jumping the Gun

2011-03-26T06:39:00.002-05:00

It seems my pronouncement of spring was a bit premature. Oh, the calendar hails it. Hell, even the weather itself was indicating as much ... a week ago.

A week ago, I was running around in shorts and a T-shirt. On Sunday, I was miserably hot. And the house kept the warmth making it nearly unbearable and hard to sleep at bedtime. Monday and Tuesday, I didn't even wear a jacket to work. By Wednesday, I was wishing I had. And on Thursday, it was a necessity.

I awoke to sleet and snow yesterday. Yes, the dreaded s-word. And now, a winter weather advisory is just getting underway and lasts through tonight.

UGH.

I need to get started on something inside anyway so I shouldn't hate it so much. It may actually be doing me a favor.

To The Duuuuude

2011-03-23T05:23:00.000-05:00

March 23. Throughout my childhood and first years of my young adulthood, it was a day to celebrate. But for more than two decades, it has been a day to recall. A day to remember. A day to fight back the tears that inevitably want to come.

It’s my dear “faux brother’s” 46th birthday. Unfortunately, Steven’s not here to observe it. He died a week after turning 22. To me, this is the very definition of patently unfair. He was such an awesome guy. He was sweet. He was funny. And, in the year or so before his death, he was downright adorable. (If you’ve seen Pretty in Pink, think Andrew McCarthy …)

He was my cousin, and a distant one at that (his mother and my mother were first cousins). But there was nothing distant about our relationship. We were the perfect siblings – minus the trappings of the rivalry that is commonplace between brothers and sisters. Our family jokingly called us “the twins” because we were born just a few hours shy of four months apart.

A few weeks ago, I remembered something I hadn’t thought of in forever. I used to call him “Duuuuuude” as a greeting. And he would comically respond with, “Saaaay, blood.”

I shouldn’t complain. I was lucky enough to get to grow up with him. The first six years were normal enough.
Having known each other since infancy and both of us having been only children, we were the best of buds. Then, an undiagnosed case of strep throat changed everything just as he was turning 7.

It attacked his major organs and shut down both of his kidneys. (One later regained function overnight and he became a case in medical textbooks.) Before the miraculous occurrence, he had been given two weeks to live. Two weeks.

He lived 15 more years.

He didn’t complain though he endured more than anyone, much less a child, ever should. I think partly because of his plight and partly because our parents were the way they were, we were both spoiled rotten. We got a lot of the same things at Christmas (yes, I was an incurable tomboy) and we always celebrated birthdays together.

When we were 9, I was supposed to get a brother. Shortly after my mother miscarried, his mother discovered she was pregnant. At 10, he got a brother. He promised to “share” him – and did.

He was funny and sweet and one of the best friends I ever had. And, all these years later, I still miss him.

If we really can see into this world from the next, I hope he can see how much. Happy birthday, duuuuuude.

S-P-R-I-N-G!

2011-03-22T05:36:00.000-05:00

It is, at long last, SPRING! And I can barely contain my joy. The past few days, however, have been summer. Mid-80s for two consecutive days (after mid-60s on Saturday) and I fully expect that today will be a third day of this uber-mild weather.

MMMMMMMmmmmmm. I am lovin’ it! (And it ain’t McDonald’s.)

The mother has been busily decorating for Easter (stay tuned for those photos) and spent Monday clearing the sidewalk in front of This D*mn House of all the debris it has accumulated over the winter. And it was quite a bit. The streets here are just this side of rubble!

For now though I wanted to officially welcome Spring and all her wonderful features. Here’s a few that greeted me when I got home last night. (One of those features being that IT’S STILL LIGHT FOR A WHILE WHEN I GET HOME!!!!)

The Baby Bunny (as he/she) is known, and has been ever since it squeezed its little body beneath the fence last year when it wasn’t as big as my hand, was one of the first things to greet me. Here, Baby Bunny chills out under an obliging pine tree in my neighbor’s yard.

On the other side of This D*mn House, the tree that is just beyond our property line is in full bloom.

That holds true for that same neighbor’s flowers growing along the side of his garage.

Spring has certainly sprung and I’m a VERY happy camper as a result. OLE MAN WINTER you are OUTTA HERE! Don’t let the door hit ya …

Wearin' o' the Green

2011-03-17T07:25:00.003-05:00

One of the biggest mistakes anyone can ever make in my presence is to insult my heritage.

"St. Patrick's Day is stupid," a middle-aged, paunch-sporting man at the bus stop dared to say as a few of us sportin' our green began to gather. "What's so great about the Irish?"

Boy did he pick the wrong girl to ask that question ... My answer went something like this.

The Irish have survived centuries of political and religious tyranny. Yet they could not be burned out, stamped out or starved out. They washed clothes, plowed fields, built railroads. Those that managed to leave Ireland's borders, never really left it behind. They carried their roots along, too, planting them all around the world. They've continued to take hold, many, many generations down the line.

I, for one, think there are a lot of great things about the Irish. And I'll thank you not to besmirch the rich heritage that Edward, Francis and John, and Bridget, Mary (I wrote about those two great ladies, each representing a different side of my family, in this post last year) and Julia gave to me. I can only hope that I have proven worthy of all the sacrifices they made so that I could be here. And then I walked away.

Two people applauded.

For a lot of people, St. Patrick's Day is about drinking green beer, wearing green clothing and occasionally donning some over-the-top costumes to go watch a parade. But not me.

Maybe this sense of nationalism for a place I've never even been is foolish. But not to me. It embodies all the many generations who came before me. And I'm proud to be part of their stock. The middle-class they helped foster is under siege (particularly at the state level ) all over this country so maybe some of that pride will help foster a movement to reclaim its rightful place. But that's for another post.

I think it's great that in this country we celebrate the Irish -- whether we are or not. And that it is one of the many celebrations for various nationalities that we have come to hold dear. It's one of the many things that make us a great country. I'm American by chance because someone, or several someones, decided to become American by choice. And I respect all those of any nationality who have done the same. Never ever forget where you came from.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

A Lighting Tip

2011-03-14T08:03:00.004-05:00

Dusting out the cobwebs and returning … It’s been a while, I know. I’ve been busy with a variety of things both at work and at home. Lately, I can’t even keep up with the basics much less find time to jump back into house projects. (Stay tuned. That’s about to end soon. Very soon.)

That said, one of the things I recently had to do was buy new light bulbs for the over-the-sink kitchen light. It’s not the garden variety light anymore. This is the triple-light LED stainless steel version that Lawrence installed nearly 19 months ago. (Looks just like the photo minus one light.) One of the end bulbs had apparently burned out.

Though these are “long-life Xenon bulbs,” 19 months is a pretty good record considering that this light gets used CONSTANTLY. In its higher setting, it light up a good enough chunk of the kitchen that we don’t have to turn on the overhead to heat something in the microwave or wash a dish. In its lower setting, it keeps the kitchen lit overnight.

I wrote down the volts and did a typical stick-figure drawing of the bulb itself which is small, clear and has two protruding pins at the bottom. (It reminds me a little bit of the bulbs for one of my first cameras where you pulled the film out and waited for it to develop before peeling a layer of paper off to reveal the photo. But I digress.) Unfortunately, neither bit of information helped me. I found bulbs that looked similar but they looked stubbier. I finally scoured the shelves until I found a version of our actual fixture, though in white. I compared the packaged bulbs to the fixture’s. No. It still looked wrong.

During my search, I learned two things from a guy working in the lighting department at Lowe’s who finally appeared at the height of my frustration. “Do these bulbs fit this light?” I asked. “They look smaller.”

He assured me that they did fit though they were smaller. The first of my lessons: Go by the G rating. If it says it will take a G6, all G6 bulbs will fit. Same for G8. Good to know.

Secondly, since these are Xenon LED bulbs, it Is best to wear gloves or use a cloth while handling them. Apparently, body oils can interact with the Xenon in a not-so-good-way and significantly lessen their lifespan. (This is equally good to know because many cars, including Pearl, now use Xenon bulbs.)

And since these little suckers cost almost $4 each, I don’t think you want to do anything to jeopardize their working time!

Shoes for Obama

2011-03-02T08:26:00.000-06:00

I honestly would not want to be in the President’s shoes. That dude has my enduring sympathy … most of the time. But these days, I’m wondering just what size shoes the man wears.

That’s because after more than two weeks of workers in Wisconsin protesting the imminent removal of their rights to collective bargain, the President has barely spoken on the topic, much less joined them.

Really? C’mon, Mr. O. You said you were going to do this. I’m assuming then that your insistence on remaining in the comfort of home can mean only one thing: You own NO comfortable shoes. No tennies. No Dockers. No Skechers. No classic liberal Birkenstocks.

So, I am hereby establishing the Shoes for Obama fund. I’m going to scrape together enough money to buy the president some of those comfy shoes he promised to don. I’m going to consult my male colleagues and informally poll what they deem to be the most comfortable pair of shoes that they own. Then, I’ll send a pair out to the President.

Does anyone know his shoe size? Mrs. O., help me out here …