Off To a Bad Start

Apologies first to those who check in early each morning expecting to find a post. Or, those who check in mid-day expecting an update since last night. Sadly, you did not find one. To steal a line from Dangerous Liaisons: “It’s beyond my control.” (Not sure why that bit of imagery popped into my head as I thought about "circumstances beyond my control," but it did. LOVE that movie and its companion piece, Valmont.)

You know those days where it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed? This is turning out to be one of them. So, to pay homage to another flick, if my life ever ends up as Groundhog Day, PLEASE don’t let this be the day.

I had a nice little photo to share this morning, but the home computer decided it just wasn’t happening. And then Blogger wouldn’t save, so the accompanying text went to an early cybergrave. That’s how my day started.

It didn’t get any better from there. In the course of about 10 minutes, I managed to:

• Spill catfood gravy all over my pajama top
• Dump half the contents of a brand new shampoo bottle into the tub while showering
• Explode a travel-sized toothpaste tube over the shirt I had planned to wear to work

On the way to work, a file I’d been working on since yesterday inexplicably crashed. Gone. Go back to square one. Like I was saying, great day!

However, I was VERY thrilled to find that some of you seem to have enjoyed Wordle as much as I did. Thanks for leaving me comments and links to your creations. I had fun viewing them. And since fate decided to kill my intended entry, I’ll use this as an opportunity to try and help those of you who want to keep your Wordle images digitally.

Luckily, I recently had an incident at work where I needed to save a screenshot so I could explain the error message I was getting to someone in IT. These instructions are very helpful.

What I did next: I saved the screenshot as a jpeg file and then edited it like I would any other photo, cropping out the rest of the computer page you get in the screenshot. Then, if you want, you can even use it in your blog – as long as you credit Wordle.net.

Hope this works for you! Or, if someone knows an easier way, I am a perpetual student. Good luck!

A Thousand Words Is Worth a Picture

If you know anything about me, you know that I love words. So when I saw Vicki’s latest entry at Not So SAHM, I had to try it for myself. (Thanks, V!) It, being Wordle.

This site represents the perfect convergence of words and imagery. (Which, if you know anything more about me, you know I like to take pictures and scrapbook, too, so it’s right up my alley.) Here’s the gist: Either enter a bunch of words or have it scan a Web site for you. Then, it will spit out word imagery like you see here based on the content you fed it or from the site.

You can change its color scheme, orientation, shape, font, lots of cool things. The Wordle creation pictured here, courtesy of Wordle.net, is actually my second try at having it scan This D*mn House. I’m not sure how many entries it read to make this creation. Clearly, the first time around, the feed had not yet picked up this morning’s entry about last night’s bat encounter. As you can see here, lightning, which didn’t appear in my first attempt at all, is featured prominently.

My second attempt also added a few more words I thought would be shoe-ins: rain, mother, and camera.

Some words missing that I thought would have to be there: bricks, porch, and hot. (Walkway was includeded though.) Also, no mention of Ozzie, Toby, dog, or cat. Odd.

And just is the biggest word of all. And it makes a smaller, second appearance. I guess I must say it a lot!

Friends snuck in, smaller than in my first try, but still kept MonkeyGirl and Jayne.

I would seem to be preoccupied with time. It’s there as well as now, today, always, forever, yesterday, past, yet, and Friday. Quantity is another obsession: every, thousands, one, two, single, everything, several, entire, much, and lots.

House got two placements of varying sizes. And I’m pleased that get, can, see, and think got fairly good billing. I’m laughing, too, at how prominently, now, ago, and almost figure in. I think I’ll have to check the blog again at a later date to see what it comes up with then. Could be interesting to compare and contrast. At any rate, I know I’ll be using it again for scrapbook journaling.

It’s a really fun site. Give it a try. If you save it to the gallery, leave me a comment with the URL. I’d love to check it out.

Going Batty

I made it home last night just ahead of the rain. The wind whipped and the sky grew darker as I made a few stops en route. As I sat in a drive-thru, a wind gust rocked the car, nearly ripping a few dollar bills from my hand. Just give me a five-minute headstart, I thought as I waited.

Fortunately, I got everything inside and had just changed clothes when the rain started. I’d only beaten it by a few minutes. Then the rain just stopped. For the remainder of the evening, the sky shook and lit up, going a wild color at sunset. Because the lightning was so close, I didn’t attempt to go out and capture it with the camera. (I did get these shots last year, but I’m hoping to get a really good one, especially now that I have a tripod.) I held my breath, awaiting a power outage, but it didn't come. (At least for us. I heard this morning thousands of others weren't as lucky this time.)

So when the storm moved east and I didn’t feel endangered by the lightning anymore, I trudged outside, camera in hand. The lightning became more infrequent and my chances limited. I was just about to go inside when swoosh! Something had just flown by me at a good clip, nearly grazing me. Swoosh! There it was again! About that time, a huge bolt of lightning lit up the entire sky, making it possible to see that there was A BAT flying right at me. And not one out of Louisville, either!

I sidestepped it and it landed briefly on the shed before taking off again at top speed. Wish I’d gotten a picture of THAT!

It flew past me a few more times, but then it started to spit rain so I went in. From the backdoor, through the glare of the streetlight, I watched that creature fly erratically through the yard, looking something like a sparrow on crack. When the lightning made things a little brighter, I could actually see its gray/brown body. I watched for a little while and then didn’t see it anymore.

The mother had been napping on the sofa or I’d have gone to get her to see it. When I did get to tell her about it, she said that she used to see them all the time years ago at our old house (the grandparent’s). Said she hadn’t seen one for years, and definitely not since we moved. I know bats can be found pretty much anywhere. I just hope they’re not setting up camp at This D*mn House.

Or maybe it was just Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee trying to get in out of the rain …

Of Nails and Noses

I got yet another new power tool Friday but I didn’t even have a chance to crack it open until Sunday night. How did I last that long?! This one, though, isn’t house-related, but pet-related.

It’s a Dremel 761-03 7,000/14,000 RPM Cordless Pet Nail Grooming Rotary Tool. I got it from Amazon.com for under $23. And since I ordered it at the same time I bought my new hammer, shipping was free.

I had ordered a Peticure months ago but kept getting told it was back-ordered so I finally canceled that order and got this instead about two weeks ago. I read several reviews on it, almost every one of them positive. The only complaint I saw more than once was about batteries, that they didn't seem to last very long. I stuck my spare set of rechargeables for the digital camera. (Which reminds me: I need another set now!) The trimmer requires 4-AAs.

I thought initially that Ozzie might be afraid of it while it was running. I turned it on and set it on the floor by him. Instead, he wanted to play with it! Silly boy. So once I got down to actually trimming his nails (which are super-long right now), the biggest fight was trying to keep him from sniffing it. (The last thing I need is to have to rush a noseless dog to the vet.)

It seems to work pretty well. I’m still kind of paranoid using it, and he is still hyper-interested in it, so between the two, I think it’s going to take several more times of using it to see just how well it does. I’ll keep you posted.

The Three Hs

There are three words to describe how hot it was here yesterday:

1. Hot
2. Humid
3. Hell itself.

I think No. 3 would be my pick. Although I keep hearing folks refer to the "hubs of Hell" including Jayne and Ty'smommy. And speaking of Jayne, while I haven't quite finished the walkway, decided on the cupola or solved world peace yet, I did get my yard mowed last night. (She gives me way too much credit. I admit that I really am a mere mortal.) Yes, that's right, and a mere mortal who is completely out of my mind. I didn't think so at the time though.

It was almost 6:30 p.m. Nearly 75 percent of the yard was in shade. Mowing would be a piece of cake. NOT! (My first clue should have been that I broke a sweat standing, just standing, an hour before.)

It was miserable. Not completely airless, though I'd hardly call someone waving a blow dryer on low in your face much relief. It took forever. While some of the yard had dried, much of it was still damp and even with the blade raised, it clogged the mower repeatedly. I mowed part of it without the bag (still clogging), then with the bag (clog, clog) twice.

Some of it was fine in a single pass without the bagger. Go figure. My neighbor was mowing, too, on his rider, and cut the half-lot. He left a nasty mess on the sidewalk and in the driveway. I got up what I could without obsessing over it. The mother appeared before I could dwell on it and started sweeping it all up.

By the time I got in the house, my shirt was completely soaked. I don't think there was a dry inch on it. My shorts were completely wet in front and all around the waist band. I was tempted to wring them out to see how much of the sink it would fill, but didn't. Instead, I made a bee-line for the shower. Warning: When I'm that grubby and disgusting, don't stand between me and the shower -- I will knock you down.

The upside: People can point at all the crap under my carport still. Or at the heavy-gauge plastic spread across what used to be my walkway. They won't be pointing at calf-high weeds anymore.

So today, I'm wrung out. Just zapped. And I've got lots to do and just a few days to do it in. (Managed to successfully get Friday as a vacation day so Lawrence can come and finish the fence.) I need caffeine. LOTS of caffeine.

Send me good vibes, please. I need them!

Introducing … Chirping Monkeys

No, you didn’t read it wrong. And no, I did not start a garage band in my spare time. But I did help nudge the birth of a blogger. Chirping Monkeys is the brainchild of Most Excellent Friend Chele, sometimes known as MonkeyGirl. You’ve seen me post about her and if you read my posts’ comments, you’ve no doubt seen her there, too.

Apparently, she’s been coveting This D*mn House (the blog, not the house – she has a perfectly wonderful house, complete with inground pool) as I learned in her initial post. And based on her most recent post, she could qualify for Houseblogger status! Like me, she had to warm up to the idea of hitting publish once she’d started the blog, and then to even telling anyone of its existence.

Unlike me, she didn’t wait almost a year to do it! She “officially launched” today. (I felt particularly honored because she sent me an email on my birthday almost two weeks ago to tell me that she’d started it. Does that mean I’m its godmother?)

She’s a talented and creative gal, afflicted with the same adult ADD that often sends me bouncing like a pinball. And, she's a camera-slingin’ stepmama who just got her Nikon (BabyNik) returned to its holster. So I’m looking forward to seeing some interesting imagery along with the amusing commentary. (And you know you are, too. How can you not visit a site with a name like Chirping Monkeys?)

You see, MonkeyGirl and I go back, waaay back. (Or at least as far back as a couple of 29-year-olds can. Ha!) She is one of my Circle of Eight from high school. And while we were always close as kids, and then through college, I think we’ve grown much closer as adults. (Or at least for two women who try to pass as adults on a daily basis. I think we both have two 17-year-olds living just below the surface who never fail to leap into action when we’re together. It seems to be something about that particular circle that brings it out in all of us.)

So close that I was maid of honor for her and Mr. MonkeyGirl’s nuptials a few years ago. So close that we now jokingly refer to our collective sensibilities as “the brain” since we so frequently share thoughts and build on one another’s ideas. (Some of this communal brain has been extended to our scrapbooking contingent. You can always tell who controls it by the sheer volume of pages they complete or by the creativity present within the pages.) It’s a soul sistah-hood.

In early 1998, she introduced me to scrapbooking. It’s an interest we share that brought along some excellent side benefits: more wonderful new friends and a stream of pictures and stories that can keep me laughing for days.

So 10 years later, I've attempted to return the favor with something I hope will have a similar effect. Welcome to the Blogosphere, my friend!

Farewell, Old Friends

Today is trash day at This D*mn House. And, amid the castaway items are two old friends: my tennis shoes, sometimes known as my "yard shoes." We've been through a lot together in the past two summers.

They held up well, in spite of my constant abuse (by walking on the backs of them), and I got more than my $3-$4 investment 10 times over. Made me feel a little guilty as I unceremoniously tossed them into a bag yesterday. (You know how I am about turning loose of things that perform well above expectations, ie., the water heater.)

They started out on yard duty at the start of last summer. They kept right on working with me through the fall as the house got painted. They stood their ground even in snow on wintry trash days. They kept on going, albeit, a little more raggedy, as work heated up on the porch this year.

But, there comes a point when enough is enough. And these poor tennies ... well, they were past that point. So thanks for the mileage, old pals. These new flip-flops just aren't the same ...

Take THAT, Mother Nature!

Mother Nature -- Look lady, you've really been pushin' my buttons this summer. But, you can slow me down, you can knock me down, you can even occasionally get me down. But you'll never keep me there ... for long.

But hey, in spite of your best shot, I still get to say four words I NEVER thought I'd be able to in the same sentence: THE PORCH IS DONE!

Mother Nature tried to drown out my joy over FINISHING THE PORCH by not letting me start my walkway this morning. I napped instead. I did a brief happy dance this morning before I covered it, after ensuring that the last bricks had set up.

I didn't wake up very invigorated from my nap, but returned to the mud pit and started digging. (Yesterday's heat took its toll, combined with having the thumbs and index fingers on both hands bloody and raw because at some point, I never put gloves back on. Have you ever tried to do anything with FOUR BAND-AIDS on? It doesn't work very well.)

I took out 60 gallons of dirt and debris before calling it a day. Unfortunately, it was a relatively small dent in what needs to come out. While I was working, Mean Old Man (he from my near throwdown episode) walked by. He stayed on the other side of the street though and didn't even look my way. Smart man.

When I came in a few hours ago, I called Lawrence. He's got a dicey week ahead, so we're tentatively on for Friday to finish the fence. Here's hoping!

The Return of the "R" Word

I kept my promise to myself and awoke early today. (It was 7:43 a.m. On a Sunday, that qualifies.) My room didn’t seem bright at all so I forced myself out of bed and padded to the door.

Cloudy. I switched on The Weather Channel just as the Local 8s came on. I grimaced when I saw the radar: a HUGE red and yellow cloud just above us. Some serious rain was on the way. I shed my jammies as I ran through the house, threw on the first shorts and shirt I could grab (which oddly enough, matched) rolled my hair into a ball and clipped it on my head, and ran at breakneck speed for the door.

You see, no one said anything about rain last night. I had left the area where I’d been working on the porch exposed. Luckily, that was the only area I had uncovered so it was a matter of flipping the plastic back and throwing bricks down to hold it in place. That was done in about five minutes. As I walked under the carport, I noticed that I had an open bag of mortar sitting on the cart. I quickly shuttled that out to the shed.

I literally got to watch the storm roll in. So I had to take some photos because the sky was simultaneously ominous and beautiful. I’ve shared some of those here. You can see the black streak (which was freaky) and the clouds swallow up what little blue sky there was.

As I stopped shooting, I noticed that the mother had laid my landscape forms for thewalkway atop the remaining fence panels. They’re metal. If they get wet, they’ll rust. Rust on my new white vinyl fence? I don’t think so.

I ran back to the shed, grabbed some plastic, spread it out in the carport and started carrying in the forms. As I ran back to get the last two, the rain started. It was 8:05. If I’d awakened five minutes later, it would have been too late to have gotten everything back under wraps.

When I got back inside, the Weather Channel was again broadcasting Local on the 8s. Cloudy with a chance of thunderstorms came the voice over as lightning lit up the livingroom.

Yeah, thanks for telling me that before they arrived …

Losing My List

Do you make lists? Reading posts from dozens of blogs, I get the feeling that we all make 'em. I do, too, just not for house tasks. Mine are either usually for work or are a multi-dimensional grocery/household/hardware list, separated by store, of things to pick up.

The problem with these shopping lists? I lose them as many times as I use them. Last night was no exception. It was a Home Depot/Lowe's/Kohl's/Wal-Mart night. (I'd already done the grocery bit for a few days.) I had the list at both of the hardware stores, got everything on them. Got to Wal-mart and NO list. Of course, this was the stop with the most items to get, too.

I was actually carrying a purse (I usually travel much lighter) and shorts with pockets and it was nowhere to be found. That was unusual. But considering that I was hot and tired, I wrote it off.

"Why do you bother to write them?" chided the mother. "You always lose them." Yeah, oh well.

The worst part is that the Wal-mart store is a wreck right now, in the throes of remodeling. Normally, I could go through and get what I need in 5 minutes or less, using the orderly system of what things are in what rows. Not last night. So, it really taxed my brain.

Once everything was loaded in the car, the mother reached in her purse to hand me her Shuffle and what did she hand me instead? MY FREAKIN' LIST. She quickly 'fessed up: "You gave it to me to get the paint. I forgot." I had carefully written down the recipe for the Behr paint we needed since the label would not come off the can. I'd put this on the back of my list and given it to her an hour or two before.

At least I didn't lose it. Maybe I'm getting better. Here's the amazing part. I checked the list and had everything on it. Take that, aging addled brain!!!

The sun is out and it's already heating up. The weatherman just said "cooler." Dude, that's a relative term. It's going to be a whole degree cooler, but the heat index (which was 100 to 105 yesterday) should stay at 90-95 today. I know. No sympathy from you folks in the southwest. And I wouldn't even care, 'cept outdoors is my next destination. And that gravel? I HOPE to be ankle-high in it by this afternoon.

Wish me luck...

If I Had a Hammer

Well, I no longer have to say “if I had one.” Yesterday, my Fuller 600-8016 Pro Wavex 16-Ounce Shock-Absorbing Claw Hammer arrived from Amazon.com. (And you thought I just loved power tools!)

I noted in a previous post that I’ve been using an over 30-year-old Stanley hammer. It has seen better days. A “back-up” model is even older, the head being loosely held in place with a screw. And I use a hammer quite a lot on all kinds of jobs. (Like smashing the edges of the foundation on the porch flat.)

I did get a hammer as part of the kit that came with the cordless drill I got for my birthday, but it’s pretty lightweight. I mean, it will be great for some things, but completely incapable of holding up to others. That’s why I got this new one. The mother says that it’s “awful heavy.” Uh, mom, it weighs a pound!

Even so, it’s a pretty sturdy little devil. It has a really nice cushioned handle grip – no wood to splinter or slip from a wet palm. One thing I am anxious to try out: it has a nail-starter built into the head. So, you lay the nail in the groove and just swing the hammer – no chance that you’ll bust your thumb or index finger while holding the nail to get it started!

I think I got a good deal at just over $8, especially considering that today, the same hammer is now priced at $10.07.

It arrived in one of those flat, rectangular boxes, about 10x14 size. That in itself was a bonus. Immediate cat toy. Toby, who has never shown a penchant for bags or boxes, actually got in it! Mom threw some mice and bell balls inside it and he was occupied for the next hour or so. You can’t beat that!

Up on the Housetop

Depending on how you get to this site, you may recognize this picture. It serves as the backdrop for the This D*mn House blog feed banner on Houseblogs.net. At first, I couldn’t figure out how to create the banner. Then, I was unhappy with the first one or two I was finally able to put up.

So, I walked around the house and started taking random shots of the roofline, the door, the porch, the vent grate. But finally, it was the cupola above the carport which faces one of the gable vents that won out. (I’m also sharing a picture of the cupola from last summer with some lightning above it.)

The cupola is over 20 years old now. It requires annual painting and cleaning. Twice I’ve cut patterned boards to replace the ones that crumbled around its base. I usually do the painting and cleaning towards the end of the season and in the very early morning at that because, well, it’s a roof. They get cook-your-butt hot.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s an activity that I’ve done for the last time. It just might be time to replace it.

I know, I know, I already have more than a dozen projects in progress and am struggling with how they’re going to get wrapped up in little more than two months. Yet, this is a project that could potentially keep me from crawling up on the rooftop anytime soon. While logging onto Houseblogs earlier this week, I spied an ad for Pacific Columns. Simple little ad that reads more like a short list, the last word of which got my attention: cupolas.

While checking out the site, I spied one very close to our existing one. It is available in both wood and vinyl. Hmmmm. Vinyl. You wouldn’t have to paint vinyl. Just aim the hose up there a few times a year. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. The mother is practically sold on it though the verdict is still out on how much we like the vinyl fence. I guess we’ll just see what happens.

But it’s certainly something to think about.

Something Is Missing

Something is definitely missing, and I finally figured out what: July! Where the hell did July go?! Wasn’t it just the summer solstice about five minutes ago?

Ever since I was a kid, summer was pretty much over after my birthday. And it has come and gone and now the whole month is ending! How did that happen?! Tell me I’m not the only one for whom the summer just sped by like a NASCAR racer around the track.

I’m starting to feel the pinch of the summer wrap-up, though I’m hoping that the weather will hold through much of October. (After all, if Mother Nature hadn’t been crying her eyes out every other minute since March, I’d have 75 percent of my outside stuff DONE already.) I feel good about what I have been able to accomplish so far this summer, but as we go hurtling towards fall, I’m getting a little nervous.

I wasn’t able to reach Lawrence today; I’ll try again tonight. I need to get on his schedule to get the last two panels of fence up and so that he can get the rails/posts cut for the porch. That way, the mother can paint them before he assembles them. And has she got big plans for painting! She’s got: the foundation of the house; the porch railing, more gingerbread than I want to talk about (because after it‘s painted, guess who gets to install it?), and whatever boards I get to repair the shed temporarily until we can replace it. And those are just the highlights of OUTSIDE.

Inside … nope, I’m not going there yet. My head has exploded already!

So, to console myself about all the work ahead, I went on the hunt for a third photo of Ozzie to submit. And, it is, of course this one! How could I have forgotten about it?! That was my other missing thing for the day.

I really love this shot. This is the view I get when I come home each night. So this one HAS to get submitted. OK, all done with cute now for a while anyway, I promise. Thanks for indulging me!

Calendar Dog

WARNING: If you aren't in the mood for cute, cuddly, and adorable, stop reading now. And don't look at the photos!

My friends at YorkieTalk are putting together their 2009 calendar. So, they've asked their donating members to submit some photos for consideration. I think they're choosing five photos per month to use. So, I have to send in some of Ozzie. I know I'm biased but I think he's one of the cutest things ever on four legs.

You can submit up to three. Well, here's TWO that I know I'm going to send. Haven't worked out a third one yet.

Sorry for the dripping in cuteness entry. Couldn't help myself. They'll get thousands of entries, no doubt, because Yorkies are, too adorable. But whether he gets chosen or not, I think he's calendar material.

Powerball=M+illionx75

Powerball went unclaimed again Saturday night. That puts tonight’s jackpot at $75 million. Million. M + illion, 75 times. Gulp.

That’s a figure that has almost too many zeros in it for me to contemplate. It’s fun though to think of all the things you would do, all the things you could do, with that kind of money. Here’s one thought: You could buy this house outright. It was the most expensive ever put on the market until these babies jumped on the bandwagon and passed it up.

Even though it has its own moviehouse, bowling alley, and car collection (vintage Corvettes), it’s a little too much the Flintstones meets the Jetsons for my taste. So, of course, I’d have to remodel. Just think of all the tools you could buy!

I think I could qualify for a home equity loan to cover it …

And you know all that celebrity spending? The $10,000+ handbags and multi-million-dollar parties? Well, here’s some folks who don’t have to dream about having that much money. They already do. But you won’t see them turning loose of their cash for such frivolities any time soon.

Still, I’m thinking this set from “the other half” can’t be living too badly.

Summer of Bus

I’m probably jinxing myself by saying it, but I’ve had a pretty good track record lately with bus detours. So much so, that for this week at least, I am getting picked up practically in front of my house in the morning and dropped off across the street at night. The pickup is just for this week, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

It’s annoying the hell out of the driver though. L is definitely among the best of them. The detour is making her late every day and she hates it. The rain that was supposed to show up last night arrived just as I was leaving this morning. This distressed L who was stuck on the community college lot awaiting transfers that didn’t come. She told her sup this morning: “I have got to go. Not only am I late, I’ve got people waiting on me – and they’re standing in the rain.”

At night, we have M. Doesn’t matter what traffic is like at night, M gets us out of downtown. She swings that bus around with precision. She scared me a little at first, but I have come to respect her aggressive approach to the road as well as her sense of humor. Because of the detour, I get to stay on her bus at night and still end up across the street. When she dropped me off last night, she queried: “Is that your house?” pointing at This D*mn House as she pulled to the curb. I nodded.

“I like that little house,” she said. “That’s a nice porch. Is that what you’ve been doing?” I think she heard me talking to Teri, a fellow bus rider who I call “bus mother” because she watches for me every night and wonders when I’m not there.

“Yes, ma’am,” says I. M’s jaw dropped. “Giiiiiirl, please. You work in an office, don’t you?”

Yeah. Sometimes.

These ladies are both true gems. I hate to see the driver switch come, and it’s not far away, meaning both L and M will move on to other routes. In spite of the occasional bus without A/C and some oftentimes very stinky passengers, they’ve made it a mostly smooth ride.

It’s been a really good summer of bus.

Some Home Maintenance Basics

Self-sufficiency is highly under-rated in today’s society. There are so many things we can do ourselves, but instead, we look to others to take care of it for us. I know this is true when I hear statements like: “I don’t know how to change a fuse.” (Honest to God, true story.)

Seriously? If you can write a mortgage check, you can change a fuse. (And if you can’t write a mortgage check, you’re beyond my help.) Much in the same way that I don’t think you should be able to drive a car unless you can pump gas and change a tire, I think there should be some simple basics to home-owning, too.

Here are three that you need to get familiar with. Be their friend. They can get you out of a jam, save you some serious damage, and maybe even save you some money, too.

Fuse Box – Know where it is. Know what kind of fuses you need and keep extras on hand. (Ideally, in an easy-to-find-with-a-flashlight location.) Most boxes have an area that you can attach a label to that tell what fuse runs which room, section, or appliance. This is great information to have when the lights are out.

Shut-off Valves – The late Tim Russert told a story he had gotten in response to his book “Big Russ and Me” from a woman who said that as a child, she was embarrassed by her plumber father. Abridging profusely: One day, the phone rings and one of her not-so-nice school chums, the progeny of a wealthy lawyer, needs help because a broken pipe is flooding their house. The woman’s father goes to the house and she goes along. Her dad asks where the shut-off valve is and the lawyer says, “I don’t know.” Plumber dad finds it, fixes the problem and saves the house. Lawyer is grateful to plumber dad. When they leave, plumber dad tells daughter: “That was one dumb lawyer.” Well, yeah. If you have a sink fixture or a commode that goes haywire, these little handles (metal or plastic, usually mounted at the fixture’s connection to the water source) are lifesavers. But, sometimes these can break, so it’s good to know where the main shut-off valve is as well.

Furnace Filter – I once heard someone ask: “You’re supposed to change a furnace filter?” There’s an HVAC man’s dream. Filters come in an assortment of sizes, so know yours. And don’t buy the cheap ones. While they will work, there’s some side benefits to the pleated, name-brand kind. (This is particularly true if you have pets or a smoker in the house. Me, I’m a Filtrete girl.) Since the filter is housed between your heating/cooling unit and the blower, if it’s dirty, less air gets circulated. Not very energy efficient. And at today’s energy prices?! Minus a clean filter, the dirt and other pollutants can get trapped inside the unit, leading to some costly repairs or maybe even a new unit. Plus, they’re usually good for up to 90 days. (That “up to” can be a month or two if you live in a pet-filled, smoky house.)

DIY: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

One of the benefits of DIY is also one of the downsides: the effects on your body.

I’ve dropped some weight this summer, to be sure. Between Thursday and today, three more pounds have vanished. You gotta love that!

I caught myself in the mirror this morning and gleefully noticed my upper arms. They are muscular. I’ve always had a little bit of tone there, but these babies are rock solid! Then, I noticed that everyone else is likely to notice them, too – just not for the fit little creatures they are. In sharp contrast to my ruddy, tanned forearms, my upper arms are white. Almost sickly white against that healthy sunbaked color that stops just above my elbow.

I have a similar situation at my feet. As you can see, they are perfectly half-tanned, thanks to the trusty tennis shoes that I’ve been working in all summer. Through the lattice pattern of my sandals, you can see white, white, white! Unfortunately, not a lot I can do about it at this point.

Another downside is dry, cracked skin. Hour after hour in the baking sun, I’ve gone through more lotion this summer than I have in my entire previous life combined. I’ve found that nothing works for long, except Gold Bond Ultimate Healing Skin Therapy Lotion. Stuff makes your skin feel better and it’s non-greasy, one of the things I’ve always hated most about using lotion. (That instant ahhhh turned ewwwww when it sits atop your skin like grease on a French fry. That’s not the case with this stuff.)

The one thing it couldn’t entirely solve was my dry cracked feet. I walk on the backs of my tennies (yes, I know, the mothers out there are cringing) so my heels have been exposed to mud, dirt, sand, and all that lovely and drying mortar mix. Is it any wonder they won’t behave? Enter PedEgg. Can I just say I love this thing? I put Gold Bond on before, leave on a while (wearing socks) then use the PedEgg. Exfoliates much better than any pumice can. Then I put lotion back on afterward. In just a few days, the difference is incredible.

Now let’s touch on those body aches. I don’t care what age you are, heavy lifting and other strenuous activity day after day – particularly in excessive heat – can make you feel twice that age. My wrists and knees have been giving me the most trouble and nothing helps for long. My assistant, Donna, has been telling me for weeks to try Flexall 454. I’ve made mental notes to pick some up, but haven’t remembered. But last night, I was in the medicine cabinet and what do I see on the shelf? A bottle of this stuff! Apparently, the mother had tried it at some point and I didn’t know it. I used some of it and I have to say that it worked pretty well.

So I am pretty pleased with some of the products I’ve found lately to confront the ravages of DIY. Got any good remedies for dealing with the woes of DIY ? (Other than alcohol. That works temporarily but has its own set of woes.)

A Brickyard Throwdown?

DIY isn’t for everybody. I’ll be the first person to admit that because sometimes, I don’t even think it’s for me.

Most people I know are complimentary of the work I do. They’re very supportive and encouraging. They decry their own abilities when it comes to doing similar things at their own homes. Truth is, I think most of them could do it if they really wanted or needed to. But, they neither need nor want to. It’s just not their thing. I respect that.

Some people, however, can be just plain rude. Last year, while painting the house, I came dangerously close to b*tch-slapping a former colleague whose contribution to a conversation I was having with another colleague about the project, was: “Can’t you just pay someone to do that?” And it was uttered in the snidest of tones.

I wanted to reply with an equally acidic response (pointing out the fact that not everyone makes what she does, and she has a second equally large source of income in her house, to boot) but bit my tongue. I instead calmly said that I don’t like to pay people to do things I can do myself. That leaves that much more in resources available to do other projects or to pay for having things done that are way out of my league. Because, that really is the truth.

Then, over the weekend, there were two more contrasting opinions. First, my neighbor’s girlfriend came over. “That’s looking great,” she said. “I know it’s a lot of work.” Later, as I was wrapping up, one of the “neighborhood walkers” as I call them offered me his two cents. “Kind of taking you a long time, isn’t it?”

The tone took me right back to last year’s slight. Yet, I remained polite. I agreed, acknowledging that masonry, after all, wasn’t my day job. (I mean except for putting up the fence, every minute of available time has gone into this project. Should I set up floodlights and work at night? Hmmmmm …. that’s an idea!)

“Then maybe you ought to let one do it.” His tone dripped with snideness and disdain.

Oh no he didn’t! Even if he thought I was doing the crappiest job he’d ever seen, he did not just say that to me. My dander was not only up, it was doing back-flips. This dude is spoilin' for a brickyard throwdown. (I’ve been wanting to use that word since Ann’s post last week!)

“Are you volunteering?” I asked. “Because if you are, I could use a mason’s help, though I’m sure my rates are a lot more reasonable. And if you aren’t volunteering, talk is cheap. Very cheap. Effort, now that costs a little more. So I’d put a little effort into continuing my walk.”

I don’t know where it came from. (I obviously stunned him. Hell, I stunned myself. ) The look on his face was priceless. He kind of harrumphed and resumed walking. I'd made my point with a limited amount of rudeness.

DIY isn’t pretty. It’s messy. It’s time-consuming. It’s costly. And it can be bad for your health if you put your two cents into the wrong project.

(Particularly if you deposit them in earshot of a feisty little woman who is burning up, exhausted and starving – and has an assortment of sharp handtools within easy reach. Not to mention hundreds of bricks.)

The "Evening" Post

The evening post got a little delayed due to last night's extended light show. So much for my bright, sunny day. The latter half of the evening became the classic novel line, “It was a dark and stormy night.” I was violently awakened at about 2 by thunder that rolled on and on for at least a minute, rattling things all over my room.

But hey, I got two consecutive dry days in, so ask me if I cared!

I did not finish the porch. Yeah, I know. This is becoming a running theme with me, isn’t it? But I worked on it a very long time today. Yesterday’s snags had really slowed me down. So this is as much as I was able to get done. I only pray that everything was sufficiently dry and that my plastic will be enough to protect it from the downpour. You can see my "mudpit" in the pictures. (And, if you look carefully, you’ll see Toby in one picture and Ozzie in the other. They were both in the door at one point, but Toby disappeared before I could snap the two of them.)

I can tell you this: Laying bricks upright takes infinitely longer and is unbelievably more complex than just laying them flat. It also requires a great deal of patience, so you can imagine how frazzled I am, me, the queen of Impatience. I am doing three rows on the face of the porch. The first row is structural. It will be masked by the layers of gravel and sand that will precede the actual bricks of the walkway. Not all of the bricks are the same distance from the base, thanks to the jagged foundation, but they’re all level. I have nearly finished the second row. It will intersect at some point with the walkway bricks. The third row will connect the face of the porch with its floor.

I decided to do a running bond pattern on the face. It will be stronger structurally and it will be a good transition to the walkway which will have the same pattern. The mother came out to inspect my progress as I was wrapping up. Except for me, she’s my harshest critic and she said it looks great, so I guess it does.

I’m just hoping that when I am able to go back to it again and I pull away the plastic I don’t find a heap of bricks that used to be the porch face!