Breaking the Routine

For some reason, one morning last week I decided to break with my morning ritual and jump off the Metro train at the Arch/Laclede’s Landing stop instead of riding through to the heart of downtown.


I’m glad I did. Glad because the walk in is SO much better aesthetically, if not from a cardiovascular perspective. (UP THE HILL from the Landing to the Arch grounds and then a few more blocks into Downtown proper.) I enjoyed the change so much, in fact, that I opted to do it again this morning.

When I walk in from the Convention Center stop, all I see is modern architecture and parking garages with the exception of the Railway Exchange, one view of the Federal Reserve, the deteriorating and all-it-historical-beauty-covered-up-by an-ugly-1950s-façade Mercantile Library, and the Marquette Building. And, the ever-depressing sight of the homeless who sleep along the block of Locust Street that stands along the way.

From the Landing, you get immediate gratification before you even leave the platform. (The platform is within the Eads Bridge expansion.) Through the mid-section archways of the bridge, you get a nice view of the Mississippi AND of the Arch itself. That view is even more enhanced once you go down the stairs and hit street level.

From the cobblestone street, you ascend the hill that borders the Arch grounds. Up, up, and up. As you ascend, Washington Avenue comes into view and the historic Missouri Athletic Club on one side and the Kennard Carpet building on the other. (You can see both buildings in this post. Or, more of just the MAC here.) Then, you take your chances crossing Third Street/Memorial Drive to get to Washington.

Turn on Washington and you’ll note that the carpet building (most recently the Roberts Vista) has now been converted to lofts. A gorgeous wood door entry is now on the Fourth Street side. (More on this building later.) Then, it’s a great view of the Federal Reserve and its plaza area. Up next, the Security Building. And while I’ve walked past it dozens of times, looking at it in the early morning light, I noticed things I hadn’t before. (More to come on this building, too.) Then, I get to zip past the Merchant’s Laclede (one of the oldest buildings downtown) and get a different angle on the Marquette.

And this morning, in addition to all of the different and alternative views, I got to pet a dog and give directions to a tourist.

It really puts a positive start on the day. Amazing what even a small change can do sometimes.

The Work Around

Because I am out the door ahead of the sun most weekdays, I love to sleep in on the weekends.

But to get something done this weekend, Mother Nature put the kibosh on that with our continuing heatwave. On Sunday, I was up before 5:30 a.m. and outside working before 6. I decided to repair my brick edging around the shed. It's been ailing for a while now. While the lower level facing the alley and the double lower level facing the yard were still rock solid, the upper layers of both left something to be desired.

The first hour or so was pretty pleasant. I was still in complete shade and it was right at about 80 degrees. By 8:30, I was working in full-on sun (not so pleasant) and by 9 a.m., the temp was really starting to rise. By 10, I know it had to be in the 90s. The rising temp and the sun beating down on me made that last hour pretty oppressive.

I took two short breaks and managed to be wrapped up by 11 a.m. including the time it took to clean everything up and put it away AND unload the extra concrete I bought to repair the walkway and porch out front. (Can you believe it's been FOUR YEARS since I put that in place? And, outside a few minor touches about two years ago, I've done nothing to it. Some weeds came through though and just general wear and tear are starting to show in a few spots.)

Right now, my plan for Wednesday is to repair the porch and walkway, repair the fence (which has some nice holes in it, courtesy of all the hail from both last year and this spring) and replant some trees -- little fake pines we've got all around the house, the shed and the deck -- that were uprooted during a storm several weeks ago. (I have 3 of 10 left to do.) And, since it is supposed to be 102 degrees on Wednesday, just like it was on Sunday, I guess I'll be up bright an early again.

Fun times.

Heatwave!

To say it’s hot is a terrible understatement. Try “Pits of Hell” and you might be getting close. And the end is nowhere close with triple-digit heat projected through at least Monday.

The good news is that the humidity was incredibly low yesterday (16 percent) or we would have been roasting like capons on a spit. As it was, it was hot enough for me. The news said we had an actual high of 108 yesterday. Pearl reported a balmy 107 when I got inside around 2 p.m. And once I’d arrived home?

More like 112.

My biggest fears at times like this are power outages or A/C failure. (Our unit is getting up in years unfortunately.) It’s one of those purchases that, if I was working full-time again, wouldn’t be too big a deal. There were some outages in our area yesterday but it avoided us. Whew!

My goal for the weekend is to keep cool. I am contemplating getting up early (like a normal work day) and doing some much needed concrete work. This is PERFECT weather for it. Plenty of time to cure with nary a drop of rain in sight!

And I hear we're not alone. This weather is going on all over the country. So if it's in your neighborhood, stay safe and be cool.

A Day Late

Well, technically, I’m not a day late … yet.

But, I will be. At least for ToolTalk Tuesday I will ...

I have pictures taken and most of the information that I need to do two, count ‘em, TWO product reviews! But neither is ready to go. Yet.

Not wanting to lose momentum with the blog though I am still planning to get one posted this week – and to be ready for next week … on time.

I’ve been just a little on the distracted side lately. (Can’t imagine why. Can you?) And getting sick last week didn’t help.

I had hoped that I might sneak a day or two of vacation in around Independence Day next week but that’s looking like less and less of a viable thing. (The good news is that I am busy enough at the day job that this is the case.)

I’d really like to get things rolling with the house again. I’m afraid the mother and I might kill each other soon if I don’t. (As I said in another recent post, sometimes living in a work in progress can really take its toll. Believe me when I say we’re there.) And while there are certainly things that need doing – and that I can do without spending any or at least very little money – the timing to take on some other projects is nigh. But I’m a little wary about writing some of the checks that I know it will take to do them.

The flip side of that though is that I potentially have the opportunity to get some help – at a greatly reduced rate – thanks to skilled family members, so … it seems like a very worthwhile investment.

I’m kind of at the point where I’m so overwhelmed, I don’t know what to do! And lately, once I DO decide on an activity: a) something big happens that throws me off course, b) I start, only to realize that key components for the job are missing, c) I want to start but am so tired by the time I get to it that I don’t, d) the mother springs an alternate activity on me or e) some combination of all of the above.

Until I can get my head screwed on straight again and my legs solid beneath me, I guess there’s always Powerball …

Blur

It's hard to believe that it's Monday again … already. Seems like it was just Friday, then I blinked, and here I am.

Saturday was a massive to-do list. Yard. Car. Household errands. Sunday started out as a day of rest but ended up being housework and run-of-the-mill tasks. And was it hot!Summer has wasted no time arriving, that's for sure. We're supposed to be in the 90s and even hit 100 a few times this week. And no rain. The yard is a lovely shade of brown.

At least it won't have to get mowed as much.

Clouds

When I walked out the door for work Friday morning, the first thing I noticed was crisper, cooler than it had been in the pre-dawn hours during the rest of the week.

There were clouds EVERYWHERE. And not only were there everywhere, almost every one of them was two or three shades of gray, and each had very clear definitions. One thing about clouds is the majority of them kind of fade into the sky. Oh, there might be a handful with clearly-defined boundaries, but the vast majority tend to meld with the sky.

Not these clouds. ALL of them had a shape and a contrast. It was actually a little spooky, as it was not yet light out.  But then, the tide began to turn. The closer I got to work, the more beautiful they became as the sun began to shine through.

When I walked in my office, this is what greeted me. Put me in a really good mood.

It has been one hell of a week. Make that month. Or maybe year. I definitely need more experiences like this in my life.

The Healthcare Issue Comes Home

It's been one of the most, if not the most, horrific of allergy seasons.

I've been on the verge of a sinus infection for months. Sometime in the last two weeks, I went hurtling over the edge. Part of the resulting domino effect found me fighting an ear infection last weekend.

Early on Monday, I called the doctor's office. Once I finally got someone on the phone, I was quickly told that sure, I could have an appointment … on July 3. Seriously?! Five minutes later, I was on the website for our local Walgreens' Take Care Clinic. 

Less than three hours after that, I was back home with drugs in hand. Today, while worn out and hardly 100 percent, I am actually better. Without medication, I wonder, how much worse would I be right now? I'm just glad I don't have to find out.

But … what if I were among the millions without health insurance? Chances are good I wouldn't have bothered to call the doctor. And the clinic? Chances are better I wouldn't have the $89 fee and the subsequent $100 plus to pay for my medication. (Being among the fortunately insured, I paid a $20 visit fee and $10 for my medication.) It was a struggle to get up and out the door all week, even though I was being treated. Just how sick would you ultimately have to become to be cared for?

I think a lot. (Probably too much for my own good sometimes.) And this little experience really got me thinking.  As I type this, my own state is notifying THOUSANDS of people that they will no longer provide health insurance premium coverage (for adults who make a certain percentage above the poverty level) or prescription coverage (for seniors at or below poverty level). 

My fear is that this could soon be the national experience we face after the November election. And to extend the fear to my own doorstep, if l lose my remaining thread to employment, when it comes to healthcare, I could be just like those who are pulling those happy letters from the state out of their mailboxes: screwed.

Think you're outside the healthcare debate? Think the election doesn't matter? Think again.

Silenced

I can't believe this is actually working. Eureka!

I've been trying for three or four days now to post and spent almost TWO HOURS yesterday trying to contact Blogger re: the issue. For some reason, I was having trouble with ALL things Google so it was tres frustrating. Especially considering that, while the blog is largely an impromptu exercise for me, I actually already had a few readymade posts to share. (Watch for those, assuming this works ...)

If you posted a comment, I apologize. I have NOT been able to moderate them. (Still don't know if I can.) Still curious to see what's going to happen once I hit publish ...

A Father's Day Wish

Happy Father's Day to all of those great men who happily answer to the name "Dad" and who couldn't imagine life without the people (little or long-grown) who call him that.

Father's Day has long been an awkward and mostly overlooked holiday for me.

No year though has been more awkward than this one. Short of dying on my birthday, my father found an even better way to imbed himself in my thoughts – by dying the week before Father's Day.

Hug Dad. Last-minute gifts for Dad. What did you get Dad this year? I've been under continuous assault of reminders via television, email and other online channels. I've probably thought of my father more in the last week than I have in the last 10 years combined. 

Not all of it has been pleasant, but even I have to smile at some of these images. Even if this shot, which I think is the first ever of the two of us together, seems to show that things got off to a less than happy start.

Some of these other shots though, well, they look like ones you'd expect to see in a family album to illustrate a loving relationship between a father and his child.

There are more shots like this than I thought there'd be (a dozen or more, easily)  but nothing after about age 4 or 5. Nothing. Talk about a life just stopping.

I wish I could remember these images as more than a sweet little moment in time, forever captured. Maybe though it's best that that's all they are, lest even that be ruined somehow by reality. So, I'll take them at face value, be thankful they exist … and smile at them. Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Shoes!

I've been too busy I think for the enormity of recent events to really catch up with me. So I'll allow myself to remain blissfully unaware for now and speak of happier topics.

One of the side benefits of the mother's great room clear-out has been becoming the beneficiary of multiple pairs of shoes. (A total of six pair – and a dress!)

Now I knew my mother had several pairs of shoes but watching all of these slowly emerge from her bedroom showed me just how much even I underestimated the vastness of the collection. Imelda Marcos had NOTHING on the mother. But ...

Holy Jeez! She only has two feet.

I'm not sure why exactly but the mother, who wears a Size 7 shoe, frequently buys Size 8. (Wearing a Size 8, I guess I shouldn't question it and just be grateful.) This is what I managed to gain. And this is where I tell you that Blogger sucks and won't let me upload photos correctly. Sorry. They're cute shoes though; trust me. Two pairs of flip-flops, two pairs of Converse-type sneakers with open backs, a pair of black patent mules (ADORE!) and a pair of moccasins.

I only declined a handful of pairs and then had to pass on a few others because they were too small. Looks like the Salvation Army will be hitting the motherlode quite literally.

The Send-Off

Papa was a rollin’ stone.
Where ever he laid his hat was his home.
And when he died,
All he left us was alone.  – “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone”

Ernest Hemingway always offered this advice to aspiring writers: “Develop a built-in bullshit detector.”

I’ve been thinking about that a lot during the past 24 hours or so. You see, I got the call yesterday that I’ve known was coming for a few months now. My father died yesterday morning.

Regarding Hemingway’s advice, I had a fabulous teacher, the absolute best: my father. If I’m a little crusty around the edges, exceedingly streetwise and street-weary (without ever having lived on them), more than a bit cynical and perhaps a bit too reluctant to trust, I have him to thank.

That probably sounds cruel or resentful but it’s not meant to be. It’s genuine. And because it is, you’ll find no sweet or flowery eulogies here. To provide one would be dishonest to both him and me. I know it’s cliché, but I latched onto the catch-phrase, “It is what it is” to describe the last chapter in the saga that has linked me to my father. I refuse in death to treat it any differently than in life. We always said his world was ruled by "The Three Bs" (booze, broads and bullshit) and no one knew them better.

I may someday regret not having gone to see him during these final weeks or even to have spoken with him. I just don’t think it would have changed or resolved anything. And, I didn’t think it was worth upsetting a dying old man to prove it. I think that in his deluded way my father would have expected me to express all manner of things that, in all honesty, I cannot.  (Or maybe this is my way of giving myself a pass. In either case, it’s done.)

As I was not the person in charge of his medical decisions, neither am I the person handling his burial. (Other than not knowing what is going on, I am OK with that.) Considering our estrangement, it seems appropriate. And, it seems typical of the uncertainty I’ve experienced with him for much of my life.

It’s uncertainty that is, at the moment, impeding the one thing I think I can do for him at this point: write an obituary. I’ve basically done this, leaving placeholders for service/burial information for now. It’s brought my PR skills to bear and tested my journalist’s objectivity at the highest levels.

The other thing I can do is try to vanquish, once and for all, the host of negativity that a lifetime of wrongs has generated. Easier said than done, but the task is lightened by the fact that during the past few years and especially since this all started in April, I've been hefting stuff overboard.

I've identified this as a long-term task. In the short term, I've vowed to focus on a few of the things I can point to as happy memories, even if they did come to a screeching halt 30-35 years ago.

• He taught me to play chess – and poker – before I was 5. The latter got me in trouble the first day of first grade in Catholic school – but only because I was beating a bunch of boys and taking their milk money. It also meant that during the many family poker games with my uncles and extended family members and friends, I was the only kid who would get left at the game table to cover while their dad took a bathroom break.
• He made football understandable enough for a 4-year-old and forever spurred my interest in the game. 
• When I was 7, he came home with a kitten in the pocket of his trench coat. He had been closing up at the bar he owned at the time and when he took out the trash, he met up with two guys who were bouncing said kitten back and forth and saying what all they were going to do to the unfortunate feline. After a few seconds, the story goes, he intervened and told them that he had a gun that said they were going to give the kitten to him. (Considering that the old man packed a .357 in those days, it was probably a wise choice. And it was probably one of the nicest things he ever did.)
• When I was 11, we moved into a rental house that was a nightmare. But the mother's decorative eye scored us a deal on rent and served as my introduction to DIY.  During the next 18 months, I would have some of the best – and worst – times of my life in that house.

I could probably add two or three more fondly held anecdotes; it's a pretty thin collection. And while they don't go very far in outweighing all the terrifying memories, at least they exist.

The one thing I really do owe him a debt is for developing, installing, fine-tuning and regularly testing my "bullshit detector." I don't think my writing would be what it is without the rich experiences that intangible device helped me to cultivate as a reporter. Without it, I don't think I would have the depth of understanding and empathy that I have for those who are abused, chemically-addicted or otherwise downtrodden that I do.  Nor would I be able to spot a flim-flam man at 20 paces.

All in all, it's been an invaluable tool. So thanks, Dad. There will always be that. May you find in the next part of your journey what managed to elude you here. I wish you peace.

A Crazy Woman … with a Trash Bag

It all started because of a three-pronged adapter.

I own several. I needed one. I couldn't find any.

This failure touched off a lengthy string of profanity as I ran from place to place looking for the half-dozen or so adapters that I know are located somewhere within This D*mn House or at least within the confines of the property (extending to My Pimped-Out Shed). And it touched off a frantic pitching session that is almost legendary among pitching sessions. (Every once in a while, living in a work in progress takes its toll. When you can't find things you are used to having readily at hand, that's often a blasting cap.)

But I'm jumping too far ahead. Let me go back a few days to the mother's brave undertaking to begin clearing out her room, a job which has been long-neglected and, as a result, might have qualified us for an episode of "Hoarders."  In fairness, a lot of it is due to stuff from the bathroom being "temporarily" (more like "long-term") stashed in there.  And, some of it is due to the fact that 2012 hasn't been the greatest year for her health wise. This is completely atypical of the mother who is a neat freak (yes, I am Oscar Madison to her Felix Unger) and I know it's been a sore spot with her for some time. Over the long weekend though she dove in headfirst.

So, while the mother was dutifully sorting and pitching, I started an effort of my own. I have a feeling that a few of the things may be regrettable but, overall, I'm starting to see a little progress. (And am now on a third trash bag, one of which is full of things to be DONATED.)

It's made the living and dining rooms temporarily unlivable but for the short-term, I can stand it. It's one of those things you learn to deal with when you are living in and serially remodeling a home and doing multiple massive projects simultaneously.

Sometimes you get to tell yourself to chill out, forge on and appreciate PROGRESS!!!

Under the Wire

It's hard for me to recall a Memorial Day weekend in recent history that did not include the purchase of paint. Memorial Day 2012 was no exception.

Thanks to an extended weekend, I managed to buy three gallons of paint with just hours to spare to still qualify for Behr's $5/gallon rebate. My receipt said 4:52 p.m. Very close indeed.

I just managed to complete my online rebate form. Online rebates are one of the greatest inventions evah. No UPC codes to clip. No paper form or envelope to fill out. No postage required. Now I just wait for six to eight weeks for my $15 to magically appear. (Those are always a fun surprise because you wait so long usually that you've already forgotten about it by the time it arrives.)

Completing the online process was probably one of the easiest, fastest and most productive things I've done during my time off. I've largely been involved with sanding cabinet doors and digging through all of the debris associated with the plethora of projects in progress at This D*mn House and trying to make sense of them all. And yard work. Lots of yard work. And much planning and preparing.

It was hardly the major progress I'd hoped for but, together with a little shopping and a little sleeping, it could qualify as a mini-vacation. So, you'll hear no complaints from me. 

Except that I have to get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow. (Not that I mind going back to work so much; it's more returning to the early-morning routine that I'm not that thrilled about. You get a pattern going after just a few days and it's hard to go back to your regular bit, or at least it is for me.) Having said that though I'll be happy to go back.

Here's hoping that your short week is going at least as well.

A Visitor

We don't get a lot of visitors. And we rarely get visitors this young.

Or this cute.

But that's how we started Saturday afternoon. This is one of my cousin's GRANDbabies. (Her first grandbaby, in fact.) It was painful to type that actually. I have several cousins who are 10 are more years older than me (because my dad was the youngest of five), but this is a grandchild of a cousin who is only about half that much older. So, it makes it all the more surreal.

My cousin, her daughter and Baby S. stopped by for a while. At first, the baby was very quiet, almost sullen. For nearly an hour, she would sit silently as we chatted, only occasionally fussing.

During the second hour though, she seemed to come to life, cooing, babbling and thrashing around. She did NOT cry, something I feared more than once she was about to do. She even let me hold her ... for about 3 minutes. Then, she had to go right back to mom!

She's not much of a smiler, or at least she wasn't on Saturday but I did manage to catch her waving. (Pretty impressive for a not quite 7-month-old!)

I got to share some of my newfound family genealogy and was pleased to find that my cousin's daughter was at least interested, especially now that she has this whole new generation to share it with! (To me, that gives all the effort some real value, beyond sating my own curiosity.)

I TOLD you my Memorial Day weekends rarely ever go as I plan them. But at least this one has, so far, had PLEASANT surprises. Let's hope it's an ongoing trend...

Welcome to the Season

It’s Friday. Finally. And this particular Friday brings two things with it. First, Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial start of summer. (Of course, with the weather we’ve had this year, summer started back in March sometime!) And second, it is the official start of the DIY season.


I’m extending my holiday by taking a few days’ vacation (first of the year). That means when I leave work on Friday, I won’t be back until THURSDAY! Don’t envy me too much. I’ll be plenty busy.

I haven’t completely set on the duty roster because if I know one thing about planning for Memorial Day, it’s that those plans never quite come to fruition. I almost inevitably end up working on something I’d never planned to, generally courtesy of the mother and some project she manages to whip out of her backside. (I mean that lovingly, of course.) Or else Mother Nature intervenes.

That said, it will be busy.

Whatever you’re doing this holiday weekend, I hope that it is enjoyable and/or productive. Don’t overstrain, my fellow DIYers or next week will be intolerable! Be safe and have fun, everyone!

A Permanent Location

I did a strange thing on Wednesday. Strange for me at least though I know other people do it every day: I put a down payment on a home of another kind.

No, This D*mn House is not for sale and I'm not planning on vacating it any time soon. And, after almost 26 years, it's hard to think of anything more permanent, though there is. No, this residence has a much more permanent nature: a spot in a mausoleum.  

It's not actually for me. It's for the mother.No, don't panic. She's still very much with us!

The mother kind of sprang this on me a few weeks ago. (I think this flirtation with mortality came about in part because of all the craziness with my father and then the arrival of an advertising postcard.) I sent in the card for her and then promptly forgot all about it. And since it's not a topic I've ever been comfortable with, I was happy to do so.

So when the day came, I was very uncomfortable.  Uncomfortable because it's not a happy topic and uncomfortable because I couldn’t wait to see how much this would cost. Let's just say I was pleasantly surprised.  Since the cemetery is planning to build two new mausoleums, it was offering a heavily discounted price on its remaining slots in the existing one.

As I said, while this is technically for the mother, I can ultimately hang there, too, if I'd like. (I plan to be cremated so they said a two-for-one deal was acceptable. We can even add Ozzie if we want. And Toby, too, if that's how the mother wants to handle him when his day comes.)

While it doesn't cover all the costs of burial, it does cover the vast majority. And since funeral costs do nothing but increase (we were just told that the average lower-end, non-cremation burial was somewhere around $11,000!) it seems like a solid investment.

I want to be cremated. The mother doesn't.  Essentially though, a mausoleum does the same job (reducing you to ashes) just over time. And because it's a more efficient use of land than a grave, it's even environmentally friendly. That made me warm to the option, at least a little bit.

So we've made the plans.  We're now clear on each other's wishes. We've got a location. And ideally, by the time either of us needs it, it will have been long ago paid for. She'll need a casket. I'll need an urn or a box. (Or for that matter, a coffee can. Why the hell will I care? I won't know.) We've had the conversation. And now we don't have to talk about it anymore. *putting hands over ears* Lalalalalalalalalalala. End of discussion.

Seriously, I can say that it seems like one less thing to ever worry about. And I have to think, for whichever one of us goes first, there will be at least a little comfort in that.

Tuesday ToolTalk: B&D Rapid Charger, 9.6-24v

I have a number of Black & Decker cordless products. (If you follow the blog, you know that I love my 24v trimmer and my 18v combo tool set.) All but one, my trusty-dusty first 9.6v cordless drill, use the slide-in battery packs ranging from 18 to 24v. I am a huge fan of these products.

But trying to keep track of the chargers and making sure I have the right one for the right battery and watching the time to make sure I don’t overcharge the 18v batteries … whew! You need a traffic cop for this stuff. I borrowed this summary from an online review that I thought summed up the various B&D chargers out there.

B&D chargers also come in (at least) 3 varieties:


1) "Dumb" chargers that supply a constant charge current/voltage, i.e., like the charger that comes with most B&D products that has the brick that plugs in the wall and a small piece that slips onto the battery; these have 2 terminals.


2) "Semi-intelligent" 2 stage chargers that supply a constant charge current/voltage for charging, but then drop to a "maintenance charge state". These also have 2 terminals.


3) "Intelligent" fast chargers that charge at a faster rate, can sense overcharging and modify charge current accordingly, and then drop to a "maintenance charge state" once the battery is charged. These chargers have 3 terminals.

So when I saw that I could narrow my chargers down to one, I was thrilled. When I saw I could do this for under $30, I was ecstatic. And when I saw that this also was one of the “intelligent” chargers, meaning that it charges at high-speed AND I don’t have to babysit my batteries with a stop watch … I was out-of-control happy.

When I recently did my first trimming of the season, I was amazed how quickly my batteries were ready to go again. I had initially charged them the night before, periodically checking the charger light to see when one finished and then swapping it for the next. I set it on the counter, plugged it in, slid in a battery and voila! As I’m gearing up for more cabinet work, I’ll be using my drills and sander pretty steadily. It’s nice to think that I can always have a battery ready to roll while that work is under way.

Pros: This “intelligent” charger lets you know what it’s doing. A steady flashing light tells you it’s charging; a solid light means it’s done – no more guess work. A super-fast flashing light means you have a bad cell in the battery and it needs replacing. The unit is small, only a little bigger than the battery, so it doesn’t take up much space. I LOVE the versatility of a single charger. “Maintenance state” means that if I’m off doing something else and leave the battery in place for hours after its charge, no harm done.

Cons: I should have bought one much sooner. So far, that’s the only negative I can think of.

Conclusion: If you have multiple B&D tools like I do that use the slide-in (not lithium ion variety) batteries, this is a must. Frankly, I don’t know how I’ve been using these tools this long without it.

Availability: I got mine at Amazon.com for $29.98 – with free shipping. Not sure if this unit qualifies, but through May 31, Amazon is offering $10 off a $50 purchase of select B&D items. They’ve got some good deals on batteries, too, (which I took advantage of; watch for those results soon).

A Mostly Quiet Weekend

Hope everyone had a good Mother's Day.

It was a peaceful one at This D*mn House. The mother didn't feel like doing anything so for me it ended up being a rare day of lounging.  It kind of made up for being in a perpetual state of motion on Saturday.

For some reason, I was awake at my normal weekday time (5:20 a.m.) and still up nearly two hours later.  I made the most of it by going shopping ahead of what I anticipated would be a crazy crowd (11^th hour Mother's Day shoppers). I was right because as I departed each store and drove off every lot, I noticed a steady stream of shoppers quickly taking mine and several surrounding spots.

Once I was back home, I got some information about a local recycling effort so that I could drop off the old TV. (Illinois passed a law that took effect back in January making it illegal to throw out electronics products.) I couldn't, however, get the TV out the door by myself and the mother was having trouble with her hands so wasn't able to be much help. It's not so much the weight, though it is a bit heavy. Mostly, it's the bulk and the fact that I can't seem to get my arms under and/or around it in such a way as to keep a good grip.

And so, for now, the TV still sits on a canvas in the dining room floor. Sigh.

Doldrums

I spent the entire afternoon working in the yard on Saturday – in 90-degree heat. Not exactly intelligent and yet I knew that if I didn't get it over with, it would only be worse.

How right I was! It has rained off and on since the wee hours of this morning and the grass is already showing signs of more growth. Sigh.

Despite feeling bad much of yesterday, I pushed along to get more things done. And today, I paid the price for it. In part being sick and in part because of raging storms between midnight and 4 a.m., I got very little sleep last night. So when the alarm went off this morning, I groaned.

And I stayed home.

I slept a good chunk of the morning – when I wasn't awakened by the trash truck, my neighbor's motorcycle or wrong numbers on my cell phone. Even so, I still don’t feel much better.

It's been a bitch of an allergy season, so I'm guessing that's part of it.  I had a fever so I hope it's not a bug. If it is, this is NO time of year to catch one – they never go away! Another part is that I'm just out of energy. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

 And all of this is complicated by an itch to jump back into house projects and GET THEM DONE! I'm sick of living in a sorta kinda done house. Especially when it should have been done a year or two ago. I'm hesitant though to get TOO deep into working on something lest the job front change for the better and equally hesitant to get TOO deep monetarily – lest the job front change for the worse.

This year is fast approaching the halfway mark.  I'm thinking it's about time that it does  some major improving. And soon.

So, to help it along, I need to make some kind of plan to move forward. Why should the universe make any effort on my behalf if I don't, right?

It's Only a Super Moon

Call me jaded, but I expected something a little more impressive than what I saw from something with "super" in the title.

1. It wasn't that big.
2. It wasn't that bright. (Seen brighter ones that were just any old "full" moon. Or that's how it seemed to me.)
3. It didn't even seem that close. (Even though the moon was supposed to be closer tonight than at any other time this year.) I've remembered walking out and thinking "wow -- you could touch the moon." Didn't even remotely feel that way tonight.

The best viewing time was supposed to be at 10:34 p.m. CT though the moon wouldn't be closest to the earth until around 11. I shot the upper shot at 10:55 and the lower shot 20 minutes earlier.