tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56054798488142312912024-02-19T06:26:56.749-05:00Alpha Mail: A Bungalow BlogA look inside our ongoing efforts to renovate and live in the Alpha Bungalow at the National Park Seminary in Forest Glen.Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-37284953273157607462014-09-27T11:13:00.000-04:002014-09-27T11:13:18.073-04:00Paver Project<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Occasionally, one likes to exit ones home and step upon ground that is not mushy or wet or dusty, or that makes ones shoes track said mush or wetness or dust across ones home should one forget to remove one's shoes upon entering said house.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In other words: we've gotta do something about our lack of walkways.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">For a house bounded tightly on two sides by a paved street, our exterior doors are remarkably far from pavement. The back door requires you to trudge across grass (although that'll hopefully change once we get our act together and do the backyard already) that is often sloppy wet for days after a rain storm. The front door is the same, although the grass and weeds are patchy enough that it's more of a mud puddle. Exit 2-B was out the front door and to the left, jumping off the porch across the "side yard" into the street, but we just purposefully transplanted some big-ass plants to that spot to discourage people (read: us) from doing that. So it looks like we're gonna focus on the front walk.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">We'd been holding back from putting pavers in mainly because Abby is frightened that the French drain I put in wasn't good enough. I'm only slightly offended by the notion... But not enough to overcome the knowledge that a poorly-done drain with pavers on top would be that much harder (and more expensive) to fix. So I was willing to wait.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">After a few rainstorms with the new drain, most of the moisture was gone, but a big pit kept on forming right in front of the door-- the aforementioned mush. I realized, however, that the pit was forming because of a tiny hole in the (new) gutter, which was digging out the fresh, soft dirt underneath every time it rained, so regardless of the presence of the drain directly underneath, the water just pooled immediately. I was confident that with the pavers placed right there, a hole couldn't be drip-dug, and the water would disperse. Really, I was confident...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So we budgeted a whole day for the project. Saturday morning I ripped up the grass and weeds, and while Abby went to Home Depot to get a load of supplies, I dug. I was supposed to dig an 8-inch trough between the lines she had set; instead, it was more like a foot, so... We had to buy a lot more supplies. Five more trips to Home Depot later (not counting the truckload I had brought home Friday) we had 90 bags of paver base (which is basically crushed brick), 20 or so bags of sand, and 180 brick pavers-- small ones 9 lbs, large ones 14 lbs.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The project progressed pretty well, but not quite as quickly as we had hoped. All of Saturday (and all of Sunday) later, we were about 75% done. Midweek, maybe 90%. Abby did some sweeping of sand into the crevices a few times-- and still has to do some more-- but we're finally done, about ten days later. We actually got a lot of help from the kids-- especially Lola, who was tickled that this crazy project meant she wouldn't have to trudge her bike through the mud to put it on the porch anymore. Isaac wasn't too thrilled about helping in ways that weren't "exciting," but we even got the attention of neighborhood kids, who helped lay some of the final bricks.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Where the kids really helped was in getting rid of some of the large dirt-and-rock pile I had created by digging (too deep). It was about three cubic meters of fill, and I figured I'd try to get rid of it on Craigslist before I paid someone to remove it. We had two bites immediately, and the kids helped shovel the stuff pretty enthusiastically into one of their trucks. Impressive! We've got about a third of the total pile left, and I'm kind of hoping I can wish it away...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But guess what? I was right about the French drain and the drip-digging: big storm came, and no water accumulating anywhere :)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">We spent this weekend looking for some more vegetation, and lucked into two big junipers courtesy of our neighbors Cathy and Brian, who wanted to get rid of them. (Hope they survive the transplant.)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Regardless, look whose house is actually connected to the road now!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmER39Q55ENhoCtkAMbWMGRCaHVg0_8Cdy3ulWI9uBE3WE672llBKh5TlCHIoZrS56g5Y91UIcbUWdzezHL1kGvur7yTw7vNIkCFU45atI5AOSQAVE7cnFwL6MiJ2_-fzceHX5_q2hpQ/s1600/Pavers+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmER39Q55ENhoCtkAMbWMGRCaHVg0_8Cdy3ulWI9uBE3WE672llBKh5TlCHIoZrS56g5Y91UIcbUWdzezHL1kGvur7yTw7vNIkCFU45atI5AOSQAVE7cnFwL6MiJ2_-fzceHX5_q2hpQ/s1600/Pavers+(1).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Digging up the mud.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVqvmj1dvRB4vt46UIGzCTsIOMnZTjRYwME0-Y5lpTl1GHxSCWecOm4DS6xGBGHI3kXwPXSxusKu4SiWhnWKGm5W0jjneCfSI0flYs3ES_t23qLipgy_r-dbJZQTiSOJIENi4-p_q1DY/s1600/Pavers+(18).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVqvmj1dvRB4vt46UIGzCTsIOMnZTjRYwME0-Y5lpTl1GHxSCWecOm4DS6xGBGHI3kXwPXSxusKu4SiWhnWKGm5W0jjneCfSI0flYs3ES_t23qLipgy_r-dbJZQTiSOJIENi4-p_q1DY/s1600/Pavers+(18).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leveling off the mud</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0A_2V3avZgBVrrFdn5tCU6bu33MrpZV6Dv1lhM9NoQ7tLu38zjUDw6TQrbRNoW4R7qA8R_HGWEWqSzTOewEHsvuWmjts9egn-WH8jG011a2-rmkA8jjxj4gu3MXC-VHhexSygc4QJ3U/s1600/Pavers+(14).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0A_2V3avZgBVrrFdn5tCU6bu33MrpZV6Dv1lhM9NoQ7tLu38zjUDw6TQrbRNoW4R7qA8R_HGWEWqSzTOewEHsvuWmjts9egn-WH8jG011a2-rmkA8jjxj4gu3MXC-VHhexSygc4QJ3U/s1600/Pavers+(14).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pouring gravel for a runoff</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilODebmQovL9BwVc2Q8mtRCRSS9uaxgsGAKHyUt3iR0IiTnBtA0vUwBdSsx-OV4q4Z2lhbZHrFaoX9kYVI3seVrrolYIsqk0f_7zmSs4VDzgTsfqIw7htUKSNxyz0YrT1xjww5wY9Dr1I/s1600/Pavers+(10).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilODebmQovL9BwVc2Q8mtRCRSS9uaxgsGAKHyUt3iR0IiTnBtA0vUwBdSsx-OV4q4Z2lhbZHrFaoX9kYVI3seVrrolYIsqk0f_7zmSs4VDzgTsfqIw7htUKSNxyz0YrT1xjww5wY9Dr1I/s1600/Pavers+(10).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Setting out paver base</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHYewS3ElzIpHWczXq-uKWZ8vunlFJYWNR4bUkPMz4suWvYDZkSp5spddbR36Y1keeFz1W-VHp_m7SHjqz291MQgAxHJ_xTPzjbU1xdJ7SF3yqbbV5aI2PpL8vENS5edbndly5NTWcic/s1600/Pavers+(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHYewS3ElzIpHWczXq-uKWZ8vunlFJYWNR4bUkPMz4suWvYDZkSp5spddbR36Y1keeFz1W-VHp_m7SHjqz291MQgAxHJ_xTPzjbU1xdJ7SF3yqbbV5aI2PpL8vENS5edbndly5NTWcic/s1600/Pavers+(4).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand on top</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW3xu2pdS5wiCuwjXhKDF91ba97RzjgR-F40jV2xssCenxIOJi0T4rXAU_j1Jq_5Rv9_vB_53Shs9tx50I3ExbyEpL5vvaYS5MI8WYGi94bWkF7BZkxEwNkvw6aBvFokxcoOyO9lCHdM/s1600/Pavers+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW3xu2pdS5wiCuwjXhKDF91ba97RzjgR-F40jV2xssCenxIOJi0T4rXAU_j1Jq_5Rv9_vB_53Shs9tx50I3ExbyEpL5vvaYS5MI8WYGi94bWkF7BZkxEwNkvw6aBvFokxcoOyO9lCHdM/s1600/Pavers+(3).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And of course it starts to rain...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uvhwFBMkrhvcrGwVPVc0O0m_wR3v75RLQsh17UKC1Nhy5dZEFT28JQmOUcTN8MuGtZKUkdlzWAxT8G13zQjRy_7f6Yas1CCemyvCzVKV7Jy3cjMbNIJo1C7OFUQTb59e8wF_0rokGtQ/s1600/Pavers+(8).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uvhwFBMkrhvcrGwVPVc0O0m_wR3v75RLQsh17UKC1Nhy5dZEFT28JQmOUcTN8MuGtZKUkdlzWAxT8G13zQjRy_7f6Yas1CCemyvCzVKV7Jy3cjMbNIJo1C7OFUQTb59e8wF_0rokGtQ/s1600/Pavers+(8).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buying pavers at Home Depot</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIz5yNcqq587ysie8bEY3393yiRQI6mKSaS0x6QEveKrpYDcMZUfxrp01qzJLOXsjnkUi2fAmm0_KraQIBjs0RhscEePbuWJ38TVKb_0lSJXWQvaNT11yvJSPfksNsgKtwXg6p5timw1o/s1600/Pavers+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIz5yNcqq587ysie8bEY3393yiRQI6mKSaS0x6QEveKrpYDcMZUfxrp01qzJLOXsjnkUi2fAmm0_KraQIBjs0RhscEePbuWJ38TVKb_0lSJXWQvaNT11yvJSPfksNsgKtwXg6p5timw1o/s1600/Pavers+(6).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My helper getting pavers out of Ganzo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJcVfheCBq6Sxyl_t94jdHxnLJ0rKaxYGSGNiIaSv2jVE3WXA9BTOl8Ert_hrMOdlhuMyviv99tU1MaVhfJJr4-Ji3EkPeZDFqSPEzSrE-rVM_cz2aCLIGtlVscHBNVi4i5ci0IYi608/s1600/Pavers+(23).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJcVfheCBq6Sxyl_t94jdHxnLJ0rKaxYGSGNiIaSv2jVE3WXA9BTOl8Ert_hrMOdlhuMyviv99tU1MaVhfJJr4-Ji3EkPeZDFqSPEzSrE-rVM_cz2aCLIGtlVscHBNVi4i5ci0IYi608/s1600/Pavers+(23).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paying out the pavers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Exp9MSUQn8rwp5GpyY9U1B3IZMefLBsDn5fwMMXwjzvg7tEMUQb-HPOde61LHMl4CToRUosrc1zgP7smNhB8hJZYNJ6MBq04PsiSoe1-QXgN2voSYajVCglN-e3HCCUcQhqlSUu1T1w/s1600/pavers+(24).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Exp9MSUQn8rwp5GpyY9U1B3IZMefLBsDn5fwMMXwjzvg7tEMUQb-HPOde61LHMl4CToRUosrc1zgP7smNhB8hJZYNJ6MBq04PsiSoe1-QXgN2voSYajVCglN-e3HCCUcQhqlSUu1T1w/s1600/pavers+(24).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">USING the pavers!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSWXPCOijRA_LhWDzhA1kOo6jlabBnyf6_jONKiGJa7zd3gGj_wLgVGNP16dwrBo67NDBsx_ZBCLSd8ORJBffTLfXF0aFU6_3LmjgiFhyphenhyphenr8LEFei3qoFV-f6y0uvShnNkdU7oGOmDG5I/s1600/pavers+(15).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSWXPCOijRA_LhWDzhA1kOo6jlabBnyf6_jONKiGJa7zd3gGj_wLgVGNP16dwrBo67NDBsx_ZBCLSd8ORJBffTLfXF0aFU6_3LmjgiFhyphenhyphenr8LEFei3qoFV-f6y0uvShnNkdU7oGOmDG5I/s1600/pavers+(15).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Voila! The finished product!</td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-37638525669473768612014-07-08T22:14:00.000-04:002014-07-08T22:14:48.081-04:00The Art of the Possible<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Back when I graduated from college, my friend Sheri gave me a book of good quotations. One of those quotations was from Otto von Bismarck, but I always attribute it to Antonio Banderas because, importantly, he sang it in Evita. "Politics: the Art of the Possible."</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Besides Che and Puss, name another role of mine you enjoyed."</td></tr>
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I usually write in this blog about the stuff we're doing to the house, or trying to do. Today, I write about stuff we're doing to the neighborhood-- or trying to do, at least. You see, the U.S. Congress has turned politics from Antonio Banderas's "Art of the Possible" into En Vogue's "Never Gonna Get It." And that's how my neighborhood has seemed for the past month or so. Yes, folks, we have re-entered THE H.O.A. ZONE!</div>
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(And let me say that, unlike most of my writing/speaking/living, I'm going to try to be fair, even-handed, and respectful of "the other side" in this one... not the least of which because many people with whom I am otherwise perfectly friendly are very much on "the other side.")</div>
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Something you may have picked up over the course of this blog is that our neighborhood is populated mostly by older people-- many of whom are older women. Abby likes to say nothing bad will ever happen to our kids because we have a neighborhood of displaced grandmothers all around us. But if you look closely, lurking in the shadows, you will find them. And by "them," I mean "families with kids." A few months back, Abby and I were approached to see if we could be informal census takers, to find out how many kids were in the community, how old they were, and what they do for fun. Part yenta, part sentry, we set out over the Interwebs to count our compadres con familias when, amazingly, we discovered there were at least sixty-some kids here. Craziness! </div>
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But why the census? And what does this have to do with Antonio Banderas? Well, you see, there's nowhere to play here. There's a playground about a half-mile down a steep and winding path through Rock Creek Park, and there's a playground a bit more than a half-mile across a train bridge. But there's nothing kids can actually do without supervision, apart from going in the Glen. And that means there's nowhere for them to congregate, which is how come we've lived here for over a year and the kids know no neighbor under sixty. There's one group of families who live over on Hume Drive, which is around the corner and through the tunnel, who all congregate in the street behind their garages. But that makeshift play spot is about it. In a neighborhood surrounded by parkland, there's no play space.</div>
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The neighborhood had the opportunity to designate such missing play space, which is why the issue came up now, since a builder had agreed to finance all or part of it if certain concessions were made on the zoning for his project. (For those of you who know, it's the building with the columns right out our kitchen window, and it'd be fantastic if it were finally developed.) For a community with a homeowners' association, getting a five-digit check offered to you is not something that comes around every day, but this is where things get murky.</div>
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All of a sudden, our little utopian Pleasantville turned-- and quick-- into Wisteria Lane. People were sending nasty emails and nastier letters, all the while smiling and continuing a perfectly charming outward appearance. The NIMBYism was actually pretty amazing, seeing it from inside, and we were half-asked and half-offered to give our opinion-- as a cohort of families-- to the situation. So I asked those grown-ups who belonged to the sixty-some kids to get together for a playdate, to meet each other, to show our progeny the potential in the neighborhood, and to talk about the issue at hand. Wisteria Lane? Now we're talking CSI: Miami.</div>
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Because as we met, someone (it was a bearded fellow, which made it all the more mysterious) began taking our pictures. And afterwards some of our conversation was related back to the homeowners' association. Sorry, not conversation: PLOTTING! Turns out, the spot where we met was not the Ireland Trail, but the second coming of the Rosslyn parking garage, and I was Deep Throat himself. (Or was I William Wallace? I'm mixing way too many movies here...) Either way: BEARDY GUY!</div>
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Now time for an aside. I don't particularly want a playground in the neighborhood. I think playgrounds can be a bit ugly, and I know that all it takes is one evening with some dumbass high schoolers and the whole thing will get tagged and/or broken. Heck, my brother-in-law peed down a slide in North Carolina when he was in high school (Hi Nathan!) and I think of that pretty much every time I go to a park with the kids. That said, we were up against a group of our own neighbors who didn't just want to vote against a play space, but wanted the very discussion of it to be a non-starter. In a neighborhood that I'm pretty sure is about 90% very lefty Democrat, we had a loud cohort of what ten miles further south would be veritable Tea Partiers. And that ain't cool.</div>
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So a meeting was called, and I was ready to lead the way. Only problem is I had plans I couldn't get out of: it was Election Day and I had volunteered to work the polls for 15 hours. So I enlisted my trusty sidekick. Um, MY TRUSTY SIDEKICK. Ah, there she is: Abby. Abby allowed me to call together our descomisados, have a pizza play date right outside the meeting, and encourage as many of those parents as possible to attend, when otherwise they might never have thought or known to come, given it was a Tuesday evening-- a time most amenable to most working suburban parents of small children. And I say she "allowed" me because while I arranged, she led. I made it to the tail end of the meeting, with "our side" smiling and shaking hands, and Hillary-- er-- Abby talking up a bunch of the neighborhood leadership. She did an awesome job, bunches of parents showed up, our point was made, CIVILITY HAPPENED.</div>
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And now we can DISCUSS having a play area. It doesn't have to be a playground, and in fact, like I said, I hope it's not. I personally am in favor of a flat, open, grassy area surrounded by trees and bushes where kids can know to congregate, and their parents can send them without fear of having to chase balls into the street or fall off a cliff or get hit by a bus. But I'm willing to listen to what others have to say too, because I learned from Antonio Banderas that Politics is the Art of the Possible. Sorry, Otto.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Für mich Weine nicht, Argentinien." </td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-48402015111362178962014-05-16T14:15:00.001-04:002014-05-16T14:15:55.709-04:00Handing Abby the Hose<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Aftermath of SEVEN hours of<br />digging up the grass on the<br />side of the house by the roots.<br />(Isaac, at right, is NOT peeing...)</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">And so the landscaping begins. Or at least thinking about it. Last month it was the French drain, which I think is fine, but Abby insists is still not draining correctly; I'm not convinced, and plan on running the hose in that corner for a while to see what happens. Then two weeks ago I spent a whole Sunday while the fam was at the National Science Fair digging up the grass on the strip between the house and the road-- about 35 feet long, 2 feet wide, roots and all-- so we can put actual plantings in there. Then I sowed in six bags of clay breaker, which pretty much disappeared into the clay, meaning I probably need at least four or five more bags... And I'm planning on doing the same this weekend around front, hopefully tweaking whatever Abby feels needs tweaking with the French drain in the process.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">But the big work is the backyard now. We had talked with Lee, the guy who did the windmill and the chalet and the pagoda (and who should've done our house...) About helping us with the backyard, but his quote ended up being a bit more than we wanted to spend-- although probably totally fair-- so it looks like we're going to try this thing ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">We've been putting it off, though, because we're master procrastinators-- our children have proven to have learned well from us. (One of the reasons Lee was so attractive to us was that he represented a swift kick in our own pants, timing-wise.) We thought at first that we had to wait for a Landscape Committee meeting to get our first approvals, but were then told it's the Architectural Review Board, which is a different beast because there are no deadlines-- a procrastinator's dream/nightmare. We'll get there, though, because we desperately want that patio.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Last weekend, we had a party. An honest-to-goodness party, not celebrating a kid's birthday, not for a holiday. A just-because party. With 15 people. And grilled vegetables. It was awesome to be a real adult again, and it would only have been better had we had a patio. So there's our procrastinator's impetus: do this already, and there's a prize at the end; a prize of adulthood.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So yesterday, I handed Abby the hose.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">(Alone, that is quite an interesting sentence.)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Never mind the hose; I know what it means<br />when Abby gets that look on her face.<br />There are all sorts of cogs a-churnin'...</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Anyhow, I handed her the hose to use as a planning tool, to lay it out to demarcate where she wants the edge of the patio to be. She spent a few minutes smoothing out kinks, but --true to form-- knew right off the bat the size and shape she wanted: slightly oblong, bubbling out from the side of the house, but not far enough to encroach on any of the trees. (Can't touch those historic yews!) That was easy, but deciding how to alleviate the elevation problem won't be. There is a change in elevation of 28 inches between the back-door stoop and the sidewalk, so there are all sorts of questions: where do the steps go? how many are there? will they even let us do this?</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsRdGa_Cf8RUH8tHcnanoa3PlcgwPnrC68LfUSZ5QD9bU3R1H3-HxSOcWrdQu-owM3qErh8dscEuZ4hosz3ouy-jeCPfFtau9-ns23pXe4RafL33ndVVJcYoGN83UofwqzYMxoy_LspM/s1600/IMG-20140513-01797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsRdGa_Cf8RUH8tHcnanoa3PlcgwPnrC68LfUSZ5QD9bU3R1H3-HxSOcWrdQu-owM3qErh8dscEuZ4hosz3ouy-jeCPfFtau9-ns23pXe4RafL33ndVVJcYoGN83UofwqzYMxoy_LspM/s1600/IMG-20140513-01797.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hoping this won't be too big of an area<br />for the Architectural Review Board<br />(and the State) to approve.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Hopefully, the last question will be answered in the affirmative. Our backyard is pristine and natural, but it is also completely uneven and unusable. My grill sits in the most even part of the yard, and it is neither level from side to side nor from front to back. Burgers and dogs in the back right corner-- the highest-- get blackened, while those in the front left stay rare. And we can't blame the grill; it's new, and doing its job as best as possible. I feel we should be able to create a livable space in the backyard that will accommodate a level grill, a few pieces of furniture, and space for our trash cans. Is that too much to ask?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I met one member of the Architectural Review Board (Kellie, a blog reader, and a fine, upstanding citizen if I may say so myself...) at a residents' meeting last night, and she didn't balk at my idea of a front-yard flagpole (which I have ALWAYS wanted, along with a circular driveway), and I think the patio is much less intrusive. So there's hope. But remember: after the Board, there's the State. And we all remember how that process can be. (See: 2011)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So for now, I do what I know I can do. Amending the soil on three sides. Planting shrubs and bulbs and some big grass on the side. Encouraging my hostas, four of which have survived the awful soil to peek out into the so-far full-sun locations they inhabit (and probably hating me, because their cousins at the old house-- in the shade-- are already huge and about to bloom). Attacking weeds with a shovel. And making sure Abby's happy with the French drain. (What is it they say about a happy wife and a happy life? Oh, I forget...)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>As an added bonus, look at this thing I found while digging.<br />They were all over the place. Anyone have any ideas?</i></span></td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-24200349431916188992014-04-08T17:29:00.000-04:002014-04-08T17:29:28.544-04:00French That Drain!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Back at our old house, we completely redid our backyard from practically a concrete slab into a really nice, green area split between a mix of plants and pavers-- <i>hardscape and softscape</i>, if you will. Back then, Abby did all the planning, and the two of us did it ourselves, with the help of my cousin Andy. (His wife, Maggie, also helped, by keeping our at-the-time two kids combined outta the way.) In the six years since, Abby's French drain has done just fine, so we're looking to emulate it six miles north. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfi35JX5jSvBE6JKNBd53ImlvT3qS6a3u5e6rQ3s3QAcFYtZESSCqejTH93UTltau_0cAjJ0pJoi9PgzHlvspIOn6thNm2Mh0wAVhPZyxOFoTCwiVaWPVorHgj0v07SnxhQwkMD6LolI/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfi35JX5jSvBE6JKNBd53ImlvT3qS6a3u5e6rQ3s3QAcFYtZESSCqejTH93UTltau_0cAjJ0pJoi9PgzHlvspIOn6thNm2Mh0wAVhPZyxOFoTCwiVaWPVorHgj0v07SnxhQwkMD6LolI/s1600/019.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andy and Abby working in our old backyard in 2008.<br />The incomplete French drain is under the black fabric at left.</td></tr>
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We attempted to have one put in during construction-- and the contractors volunteered to do so-- and we thought they had done so. But water kept pooling at the northeast corner of our house, and we had to dig to find out that it was because the original perforated pipe they had laid was surrounded by nothing but clay. So a perforated pipe, meant to drain water from the soil, was surrounded by clay, nature's best impermeable surface. Argh. So last weekend, I took it upon myself to pull the old "French drain" out and put a new French drain in.</div>
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(As an aside, did you know the French drain is not French? It's actually named for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Flagg_French" target="_blank">Henry French</a>, as in "French's drain." Not only that, but Mr. French, of French drain fame, is actually the father of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daniel_Chester_French" target="_blank">Daniel French</a>, of Lincoln Memorial fame. Hmm... Son gets the back of the penny and the fiver, but dad does all the work unmucking everyone's yards; doesn't seem fair, does it? But I digress...) (What did we ever do without <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_drain" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>?)</div>
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So rather than explaining what I did, since it all worked out pretty well, I've attached a pictorial to show you that, yes, I actually did this myself. (With oversight help at times from Abby, and with some big muscle-work by Lola, who insisted on pouring about 75% of the dirt and rocks.) Enjoy!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First off, digging up the old pipe and removing it.<br />See how there's nothing but clay all around it? Yeah, not good.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The full 30-foot length of the original pipe had to be excavated.<br />Isaac gave me moral support.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7drP8D6IZZOf3DDXco4G54C4ShJu8DQZgaVTQIoS-K-RR4P_UUf4KDR2RF_JV_opxGGpfCa3HeeHp7Wo9f5zitWOKbZXqsQBrtapi5K3HbcZwOsliioP6l8N-r0x-bckMYH2ogaaiOvk/s1600/French+Drain+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7drP8D6IZZOf3DDXco4G54C4ShJu8DQZgaVTQIoS-K-RR4P_UUf4KDR2RF_JV_opxGGpfCa3HeeHp7Wo9f5zitWOKbZXqsQBrtapi5K3HbcZwOsliioP6l8N-r0x-bckMYH2ogaaiOvk/s1600/French+Drain+(2).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After removing the original pipe, I laid about 450 pounds of marble chips on the bottom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJAj9hXYB2SNYCktKrVl_41ne1G_S0_CmnTU8dKoNAy_PYxFCavf1IkqUh-i6Wtl7PO5KPLJYWyr4S9SbOZXxWf2XhT1gpHnIzx7kMmh0j8BqANbtEFPZQnX8ePspXPWSy83_-yk_Bnk/s1600/French+Drain+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJAj9hXYB2SNYCktKrVl_41ne1G_S0_CmnTU8dKoNAy_PYxFCavf1IkqUh-i6Wtl7PO5KPLJYWyr4S9SbOZXxWf2XhT1gpHnIzx7kMmh0j8BqANbtEFPZQnX8ePspXPWSy83_-yk_Bnk/s1600/French+Drain+(3).jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not being vain or wasteful by putting the white marble chips in.<br />They have to be three-quarters of an inch around for it to work,<br />and these ones were the cheapest Home Depot had, at three bucks a bag.<br />This is the NE corner of the house, where the pipe feeds through the wall to the backyard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Jdw6vDvu41df-SXkd9dVn8GMF-2iV-XmuaUbJhSXkagn-RI8fEG4bY02B_to2DHmQEjegdULJpDScQ8knEWO94I6HWMEDu3o6xUiOSqaiDyMy7NHm3SRto-IvKX_EVhlD9mXs6VSQ7s/s1600/French+Drain+(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Jdw6vDvu41df-SXkd9dVn8GMF-2iV-XmuaUbJhSXkagn-RI8fEG4bY02B_to2DHmQEjegdULJpDScQ8knEWO94I6HWMEDu3o6xUiOSqaiDyMy7NHm3SRto-IvKX_EVhlD9mXs6VSQ7s/s1600/French+Drain+(4).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All spread out.<br />The rocks serve as a reservoir for built up water.<br />When the water gets more than a couple inches high,<br />it permeates through the holes in the bottom of the pipe.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RkpOFm0duuLMQDSMrnXDU413WXOEYS4JNVrkRnimNCZ_gbmNhCo7-HbFHv6yRrt60t1JMFnqP0F7zMdDK1NwicaUAoj5hp6vx6lUov0j2q9mgMxqcBTKxaweWdCvZC1Siuimz8oxa1o/s1600/French+Drain+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RkpOFm0duuLMQDSMrnXDU413WXOEYS4JNVrkRnimNCZ_gbmNhCo7-HbFHv6yRrt60t1JMFnqP0F7zMdDK1NwicaUAoj5hp6vx6lUov0j2q9mgMxqcBTKxaweWdCvZC1Siuimz8oxa1o/s1600/French+Drain+(5).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here's the new pipe!<br />Once the water's in it, the slight incline towards the wall propels the water<br />out of the front yard and into the back yard.<br />(We'll do that one another time.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Fq0qTYyuqArSPn_UojYLY4xugYJI6vkk4tP4peYWJGZ5LaeAUJHRWB4H3tuMXQUQJGyih8rTSMGCuGmGfJrJcW7Tz9oSdwg5h54uRxA1uA7AZMQQLKtZqptoI6FnJmBwKNUCdGo3oBc/s1600/French+Drain+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Fq0qTYyuqArSPn_UojYLY4xugYJI6vkk4tP4peYWJGZ5LaeAUJHRWB4H3tuMXQUQJGyih8rTSMGCuGmGfJrJcW7Tz9oSdwg5h54uRxA1uA7AZMQQLKtZqptoI6FnJmBwKNUCdGo3oBc/s1600/French+Drain+(6).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next comes fabric, which we use to cover the pipe and stones<br />so any roots from plants on the surface don't muck up the system underneath.<br />The fabric is water-permeable, of course.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiu9aajrlm65KDfnsNa_6oqUM_C_lwWMUYye4wxFNCA91VHhreLUy8u_-RVxtCpGef_waSJkUfGRJN_tkYLm86ENdA2RopjGIYqGhyCXYhoc4FOxH-LL-ZomDhI-zox6votfm_A6ZUKE/s1600/French+Drain+(7).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiu9aajrlm65KDfnsNa_6oqUM_C_lwWMUYye4wxFNCA91VHhreLUy8u_-RVxtCpGef_waSJkUfGRJN_tkYLm86ENdA2RopjGIYqGhyCXYhoc4FOxH-LL-ZomDhI-zox6votfm_A6ZUKE/s1600/French+Drain+(7).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then comes about 750 pounds of gravel.<br />The gravel, being smaller, allows water through while sifting out everything else.<br />The water can then go through the fabric, down to the stones, then into the pipe.<br />Oh, and the gravel also holds the fabric down on extremely windy days...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKF7DlDyVfmeqd-Ymqtq3H4iQZL0_975C8OXdRnvexQAp9n7qz1zeV5L6a8292odfnKHE_wrtabY_Maq2vYYokf_f60HUFtIf1r_HEJn65dv3P6VmDajRNrE4ShHVW-mZjAqkOTeTDSdI/s1600/French+Drain+(8).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKF7DlDyVfmeqd-Ymqtq3H4iQZL0_975C8OXdRnvexQAp9n7qz1zeV5L6a8292odfnKHE_wrtabY_Maq2vYYokf_f60HUFtIf1r_HEJn65dv3P6VmDajRNrE4ShHVW-mZjAqkOTeTDSdI/s1600/French+Drain+(8).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Might I add that Lola helped with the process starting at the gravel?<br />Here, she helped put large rocks on top of the blowing fabric<br />so we could head to the next step: soil.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSZYti7KP6rSBSjeUndlhXEnWdKnIPe28bsmSxs9q88bJ01rSFv_KctNZh6ZiL1YGBv40iVYhsO-UGy8O4BqX5ZfOQ2iwXLAMJZrQ2pdwGL7uaCjR43lHExH9zos_pKcBQ44PCFP4Sd0/s1600/French+Drain+(9).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHSZYti7KP6rSBSjeUndlhXEnWdKnIPe28bsmSxs9q88bJ01rSFv_KctNZh6ZiL1YGBv40iVYhsO-UGy8O4BqX5ZfOQ2iwXLAMJZrQ2pdwGL7uaCjR43lHExH9zos_pKcBQ44PCFP4Sd0/s1600/French+Drain+(9).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lola insisted not only on cutting all the soil bags open,<br />but also on pouring almost all the bags in.<br />12 bags, each with one cubit foot of soil.<br />Again, I didn't need to get Miracle Gro,<br />it's just that there was a crazy sale at Home Depot,<br />and at two bucks a bag, it was cheaper than plain ol' dirt.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVH47vzOsOymbDDQZcnAZ5VDcXXzbiaC0EYiIq8Iq23sr1iaBk2b_HBOKX7qGYTKZcInooEMwaqiPnlhprxIWZMgTS_9PBCqhNd5fDdcMnUBDfYZ1LoA2YM3FYRgmKT93mn2p-l0tqiqs/s1600/French+Drain+(10).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVH47vzOsOymbDDQZcnAZ5VDcXXzbiaC0EYiIq8Iq23sr1iaBk2b_HBOKX7qGYTKZcInooEMwaqiPnlhprxIWZMgTS_9PBCqhNd5fDdcMnUBDfYZ1LoA2YM3FYRgmKT93mn2p-l0tqiqs/s1600/French+Drain+(10).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First we put some of the old dirt into the hole to cover up the fabric.<br />We took the big place-holder rocks out each time, <br />since the weight of the dirt was now enough.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92u67qd9ZwHLj6v6yPskOWPM-ZRE_fzr2NtGCC89EO2OsZ-wNjgg82pYUFzjQoPUETWbbP6W5itaVH0ZrjEYD0SO727jWAVgYHvqn6FlV3OgdwLWNi3yU2rb3PnDUH02U2hRv4fFgObw/s1600/French+Drain+(12).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92u67qd9ZwHLj6v6yPskOWPM-ZRE_fzr2NtGCC89EO2OsZ-wNjgg82pYUFzjQoPUETWbbP6W5itaVH0ZrjEYD0SO727jWAVgYHvqn6FlV3OgdwLWNi3yU2rb3PnDUH02U2hRv4fFgObw/s1600/French+Drain+(12).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then we filled the rest of the hole in with new dirt, and that was it!</td></tr>
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Not a bad project if I may say so myself. And it rained for pretty much 48 straight hours after we did it, with only minimal puddling, so all is well. Next step in the front yard is putting a lot more dirt in, so that we can grade the water to run away from the house and get rid of the step you have to take onto the front porch. I'm going to attempt to remove some of the clay as well, replacing it with regular dirt, after our horrible experience with our front yard at the old house, where tree after tree died at about two years of age, once its roots hit the solid clay beneath the topsoil. Hopefully, by the end of the summer (or earlier!!) this will be a happy green spot for us (and all of our neighbors) to enjoy-- and will help them all forget about the crazy construction that's been going on here nonstop since 2011!</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-3325251280839116442014-04-06T22:28:00.000-04:002014-04-06T22:28:36.576-04:00Spring Awakening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been awhile since I last posted, but in the meantime, we've been settling into the place pretty well. We're actually coming up on a year in the house, which is ridiculous when I think about it. More ridiculous, of course, is the fact that we have weathered our first winter in Forest Glen with a rather deficient heating situation. I've posted about this before, and since then, there has been very little movement on the issue. We went through the coldest winter in Metro DC in several years, and definitely felt it... downstairs.</div>
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The number of times we called, emailed, and texted our contractors is laughable. Rory, the one who actually gets things done when you need, is now nowhere to be found. Instead, we are left with Mark, who always seems to have somewhere else to be, someone else who needs something, or an ailment of some sort. You know the guy in your office whose grandma died seven or eight times over the last year or two? That's him. Who knows? Maybe he just has a big (ill?) family. But I'm to the point with health issues that I just nod and zone out until they're done being discussed.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV87IWszu_XIDoPk-bg6xCjdwhK7yV8a3gff4VzoVzS4ii47L8X32iixq_VXykDZeuX7oURpWLcyqp02uORTA3dNHJvAYdZjkvCsH_MDhoqAFPk5BNQ5biglgvgFo0DJ2qIh-r9cnRA24/s1600/IMG-20140213-01089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV87IWszu_XIDoPk-bg6xCjdwhK7yV8a3gff4VzoVzS4ii47L8X32iixq_VXykDZeuX7oURpWLcyqp02uORTA3dNHJvAYdZjkvCsH_MDhoqAFPk5BNQ5biglgvgFo0DJ2qIh-r9cnRA24/s1600/IMG-20140213-01089.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What does the Postal Service saw about <br />
snow, sleet, dark of night? <br />
Yeah, they all stop our contractors <br />
from making their appointed rounds...</td></tr>
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A few weeks back, we finally managed to set a time for Mark to come out, but there was a "snowstorm." Then, he had to cancel at the last minute for another appointment, which I actually was glad about, since it was pretty warm out that day, and I wanted him to experience the downstairs cold first-hand. Finally, our schedules meshed last week, and he came out. I was relieved that he seemed stumped by the issue of no wind at all coming out of our downstairs vents... But not really, since I'm pretty positive it's because he turned them off when he came back in February when I was out of town and Abby called him for help. He came by two days ago and fiddled with stuff again; presumably, he flipped the switch and redirected the heat downstairs again. Tonight, regardless of the temperature, I'm gonna force the heat to go on, and see if we can feel more than a trickle in the downstairs bathroom. You know, the one that was supposed to relieve my bathroom from the kids' mess, but instead sits pretty much unused because of its frigid temps.</div>
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Apart from the heat, Mark finally got Francisco to come over and install the hot-water tap they had to uninstall before our inspection last year. Since then, I've grown semi-fond of our disposal-- Abby still doesn't trust it-- so I wanted both installed. Plumbers off of ServiceMagic quoted us more than $600 (or was it $800?) to do the job, but Mark had said $250 way back when. It went in this week... But not without $150 being added to the bill. Oh, and it's plugged into the same outlet as the disposal, which means we have to unplug the disposal until we want to use it, then remember to unplug it and flip the switch back on afterwards. Ahh, the joys of getting "everything you want" in a house you renovate, amirite?</div>
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Speaking of getting everything you want, we got to check out the Swiss Chalet (not the restaurant, sadly) the other night when Lee invited us over. That's right: an honest-to-goodness cocktail party on a Friday night! (The kids were also invited, and played great with his.). Best of all, it was the first night of actual warmth, which meant we went without jackets, and the doors (and windows, I think) were left open. (This at the end of a week that started with a snow day, no less.)</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos2.zillow.com/p_d/IStctntrcbz3vd1000000000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://photos2.zillow.com/p_d/IStctntrcbz3vd1000000000.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chalet now</td></tr>
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The <a href="http://www.wfp.com/property/detail/MC8237109/2805-LINDEN-LN-SILVER-SPRING-MD-20910" target="_blank">Chalet </a>is amazing. For those of you who don't know, it's the house that interested us in the neighborhood in the first place, back in February 2011. But the work was just too extensive (and expensive) for us to handle. Lee, however, has handled it *very* well, and has it on the market now, in case anyone's looking for a place with a genuine wine grotto, beautiful modern finishes, and a super-cool master bedroom suite with cathedral ceilings. My silly-favorite part of the place actually is the door: it's a substantial wood entry door split in half, so you can open just the top if you like, when the weather warrants. You know, maybe set a pie on it to cool or something. Mmm, pie. I showed my parents around in there today during the open house, and they loved it-- although it's got too many stairs for them, which is understandable. But in my estimation, it's a masterpiece.</div>
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The next month has a bunch of stuff coming, not the least of which will be the expected arrival of our state historical tax credit, which will make us feel momentarily rich-- that is, until we remember we already spent that money, and we need to put it back in the mortgage... And of course, I will be able to start outdoor stuff in earnest. Sure, the deer ate all of my vegetation that didn't die on its own before winter set in, but that was just a test. In the meantime, I'm planning out the greenspace around my house, and hoping I'll be able to do so in a nice, warm family room, without the need for a heavy blanket, and with the kids' ratty toothbrushes and gunked-up toothpaste tube messing up their own, newly warmed bathroom, and not mine! (Hope springs eternal, right?)</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-75562976578849574552013-11-13T21:59:00.001-05:002013-11-13T21:59:20.159-05:00The Farnsworth Technicality<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_m9IyxRR7x_nRDfQNl2i1Z6T3F7mqffUz77JAmPnhTBJjiBIdBOC7Bk-F4tc63oY6jp0GoEUr-4wbx0OltfGuwaCLxu2BfNdWdc-ecmbYA0ox7Fg1nOuKAODsANKm8j-wP9W_Nv0R928/s400/11111111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_m9IyxRR7x_nRDfQNl2i1Z6T3F7mqffUz77JAmPnhTBJjiBIdBOC7Bk-F4tc63oY6jp0GoEUr-4wbx0OltfGuwaCLxu2BfNdWdc-ecmbYA0ox7Fg1nOuKAODsANKm8j-wP9W_Nv0R928/s320/11111111.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">As Professor Farnsworth says at the beginning of every episode of Futurama, "Good news, everyone!" Our tax-credit application has been given the (unofficial) thumbs-up from the Maryland Historic Trust for the full amount-- meaning almost everything we spent on making this house livable (as opposed to the little indulgences like the gas fireplace) qualified for their program, and we'll be getting a whopping $50,000 back from the state. (Holy cow!) We haven't gotten the paperwork back yet, but Renee from MHT told me she just needed one small edit on one page of the form for things to go forward, and I'm totally psyched. I immediately began looking at financing our HELOC, which resets in December, with the hope that the fat fifty-G check we'd be getting in the mail at Thanksgiving could cut the amount in half and give us a way better rate. Alas, I was only half-right: yes, we will be getting the money, but no, it will not be coming anytime soon, and it will also not be coming in the form of a happy, gift-like check.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Rather, we have to file taxes in the Spring and claim the amount as a tax credit. Hmm. So here's the issue now: I planned our finances so we'd be DC residents until December 31, with a switch to Maryland beginning January 1. All DC withholding this year, then a clean break with no need for part-year resident filing, with all MD withholding in 2014. Now we have to file as MD residents for 2013, and I'm stumped. For those of you who know me, this is how stumped I am: I'm going to go to H&R Block and get tax advice. (I know, right?!) But this money is just too much to screw around with, and I'm willing to pay the $150 or whatever they need at the tax place in order to see my mortgage balance decrease by half-a-hundred grand. Now I just have to find some time to get there.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Once we get the official paperwork back from Annapolis (Crownsville, actually) we can then start with the Rockville paperwork--for the county. I already started talking to Josh over at the County Preservation office, letting him know to watch out for our impending application, and it looks like it may be an easy-enough process. The county looks at all the stuff you did to make the house pretty from the outside, as opposed to the state livability standard, so the amount we get back will be much, much less-- 10% of the exterior improvements will still be nothing to shake a stick at, mind you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">But the other reason I contacted Josh was to let him know we finally got the energy audit results back, and decided to go for it. Granted, all that wait (since what, August?!) was for a report that basically told us we had drafts -- in a 115-year-old house -- we liked their remedies, and we don't like how freakin' cold it is in the house. So next Monday and Tuesday, Smart Homes Maryland will be coming by to install seals on all 49 of our windows, new latches on almost half of them (to help close them more tightly than the current latches, some of which are the hook-and-eye kind you'd find at a campsite latrine), and what they describe as an inflatable device inside our chimney that will help divert the heat from the fireplace into the house. That last part makes sense but sounds strange-- but it's also less than $200, so why the heck not?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">The whole project's not cheap, but do-able nonetheless. They originally gave us an estimate in the high $2000s, and I balked at it until I thought about the cost of simply buying 49 windows-worth of that cheap weatherstripping from Home Depot, and how cheesy it'd look. Only problem was that the quote was for white weatherstripping and brass hardware; all of our windows are black. So we went back to their rep, Karim, and asked what it'd take to darken things up. apparently about a thousand dollars. But again, that now involves painting 49 windows-worth of weatherstripping, getting upgraded hardware, and being happy (and warrantied) at the end of the process. For energy savings, it's worth it. The bummer is we haven't been in the house for a winter without it, so we have nothing against which we can compare the cost savings. But I think I can deal, and I'm looking forward to being able to sit at my computer without feeling a cold breeze, to waking up to see something other than "57 degrees" on my bedside thermometer, and to snuggling with Abby under a blanket when we watch tv because we want to-- and not because we're trying to stave off hypothermia. That, combined with a nice big check from Maryland-- even if it's in the form of an income-tax refund check direct-deposited into my account at some point in late March-- will truly be "good news, everyone!"</span></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-89117919009230468402013-10-30T10:43:00.002-04:002013-10-30T10:43:34.876-04:00That's Cold<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Old married couples have their "normal" (to them) back-and-forths that go something like what Abby and I have. For instance:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMiId2YGvixHWbBQkR48KHX2GEKlxLPU8gsGMD-9yQMirIqk-BL1AaRf9S5yU5o4gf5D4UsRYkk5j4pih7FraH34gi-87RxFA1_vdWQo1A8vsyTAt3Mv5rQ7bRxQWCcWA338F88FeL_c/s1600/Billy+Ocean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXMiId2YGvixHWbBQkR48KHX2GEKlxLPU8gsGMD-9yQMirIqk-BL1AaRf9S5yU5o4gf5D4UsRYkk5j4pih7FraH34gi-87RxFA1_vdWQo1A8vsyTAt3Mv5rQ7bRxQWCcWA338F88FeL_c/s320/Billy+Ocean.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Billy Ocean is dressed appropriately for my first floor.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A: Hey.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">G: You.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A: Get into my car. (You can guess the rest.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Similarly, and on the same '80s pop vein, there's this gem:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A: That's cold (or) I'm cold (or anything else ending with the word "cold")</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">G: So's your heart.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A+G: Random Paula Abdul reference. (Is there any other kind?)</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRCZ3UCj5WfHec9XLXiImWLDvX8lHGcsy3PxbnUZDZrOW9HSAIHER3ldgvleVKPT7_LQ05bXUKN9gDL2o0WPi-X24jQwERjfEvLLgndYx1D6Q-EhXhK5lOUZ1n3qdl7yxtirGk4WLWKh4/s1600/Paula+Abdul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRCZ3UCj5WfHec9XLXiImWLDvX8lHGcsy3PxbnUZDZrOW9HSAIHER3ldgvleVKPT7_LQ05bXUKN9gDL2o0WPi-X24jQwERjfEvLLgndYx1D6Q-EhXhK5lOUZ1n3qdl7yxtirGk4WLWKh4/s320/Paula+Abdul.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Paula Abdul would be VERY cold in my downstairs bathroom</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Well, now we have something else that's cold, apart from each of our hearts: our house. More specifically, our first floor. Each morning, we wake up, put our parkas on, grab our chisels, and start chipping the children out of their beds. We can leave meat and dairy out on the counters without fear of spoilage. We have a family of hibernating bears under our stairs. It's cold.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">"Of course it's cold," you say. "You have 100+ year-old windows and your first floor is partially submerged underground." "Yes," I would reply, "but you see, I had installed an enormous furnace, along with bulkheads for distributing all of that heat. And I paid extra for insulation of Buffalo standards. And I yell at the kids to close the door, for fear of (and I quote, unfortunately) 'heating the neighborhood.'" Still, very cold.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOKXFh8xynj8ucnTWFGr1AxAYGwtwXWR-Rc2z3fufFPm0FWve1xDJt9c54aoac_D2BmjEBcZzUPUIG3PlvJOeVxWMPlRGGvH73pr5MRBJVVFb_qOxPiNeUI73_xZYRp2VKPWXLVCUJ78/s1600/Madonna+-+Frozen.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOKXFh8xynj8ucnTWFGr1AxAYGwtwXWR-Rc2z3fufFPm0FWve1xDJt9c54aoac_D2BmjEBcZzUPUIG3PlvJOeVxWMPlRGGvH73pr5MRBJVVFb_qOxPiNeUI73_xZYRp2VKPWXLVCUJ78/s320/Madonna+-+Frozen.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Madonna would probably be okay with a shawl,<br />but those dogs in the video would need sweaters.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Madonna once sang "You're frozen when your heart's not open." I say "you're frozen when your freakin' cold." And yes, I say this from the vantage point of someone who went through the winters of '04-'05 and '05-'06 without heat. But I was a lot younger then, and didn't have to worry about potential Child Services intervention.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">We sit on our couch after the kids go to bed, and immediately crawl under a blanket. Abby's nose is probably 40 degrees. And I strongly suspect our little issue with Lola wetting the bed a few times last week has at least something to do with her preferring not to get out of her warm bed to trek across the tundra that is our family room, into the icebox that is the downstairs bathroom. Let's just say we have issues.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A few months back, you may recall, we won a free energy audit courtesy of the county, for historic homes. Following the audit, we were supposed to receive a professional estimate on how an organization affiliated with the county and knowledgeable about the limitations of working with historic buildings could work to make our house more energy-efficient. (Read: warmer in winter). And hey, I'm all about up-front payments with back-loaded, long-term benefits-- bring 'em on!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So the audit guy came out, did his thing, and said we'd have his report shortly. Then... nothing. around Labor Day, sensing the imminent change in season, I emailed the county asking about the report, and was told there were "issues" (with the auditor, not with our audit) and we'd get things shortly. Two weeks ago, I re-pinged them, and was told I'd have the report no later than... last Friday. I don't want to be the pain in the ass to people who are giving me something for free, but by the time we finally get the report, there may be a glacier advancing on Silver Spring, starting from my property.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXwIiMJXKX_smqszjelmWcHRuIeNaJjc-oWurIw51vLIZwMb1HKFsw57hL7ujbBvCZY5Vl_n1-AR909GnNV9Num0dmBQcmU3mG6QmyN5dgmDaNLz5nZu2rVJTwxitnFgP5Ftq3zH1iWg/s1600/Icelandair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXwIiMJXKX_smqszjelmWcHRuIeNaJjc-oWurIw51vLIZwMb1HKFsw57hL7ujbBvCZY5Vl_n1-AR909GnNV9Num0dmBQcmU3mG6QmyN5dgmDaNLz5nZu2rVJTwxitnFgP5Ftq3zH1iWg/s320/Icelandair.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Proper gear for the Aurora and the Bungalow</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">(I write this while standing on my Red Line commute, facing an ad for Icelandair, with a smiling couple in thick sweaters and furry hats enjoying the Northern Lights; they would be properly clad to visit the Bungalow too late in the evening.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So what do I do? I could spend a whole weekend going back and forth to Home Depot buying weather-stripping and that cellophane stuff for the windows and door-sweeps and a giant knit house-koozie, but in the end I feel that my professionally-done house deserves a professionally-done insulation job, especially since I have actual tourists taking actual photos of the place at least once every month on the neighborhood tour. And also because I'm pretty positive that once I finally plunk down the time and energy on doing it myself, the county will call me, all ready to go.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">In the meantime, we have decided to close our upstairs registers and pump the heat up a few degrees, with an eye toward tricking the HVAC system into warming things up downstairs without baking the upstairs. We've made sure all of our duvets are washed (following Isaac's barf-o-rama last week, and Lola's aforementioned string of accidents the week before) and on the beds. We turned on the fireplace during Isaac's party, which made the upstairs nice and toasty; the temperature downstairs may have been fine, had all the kids not kept leaving the door open (and heating the neighborhood...). Oh, and we're stocking up on soup.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Here's hoping the county gets to us before we go the way of the Woolly Mammoth. (Or at least the way of that poor snake Paula Abdul was singing about back in the day.) In the meantime, we can only dream about the point whne we'll get to another of our regular-to-us conversations:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A: I'm hot.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">G: And modest.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A: (Rolls eyes.)</span></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-80996195296434028572013-10-23T22:13:00.001-04:002013-10-23T22:13:33.866-04:00Pianoless Foyer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been a while, but that's because the physical work on the house has ended, so we're pretty much not doing anything else house-related. Um, no. It's just that we've been pretty busy, what with life and everything, that we are trying to do a better job at balancing house and life. Abby took a ten-day vacation to Greece with her mom, I escorted a group of 40-some fellow Buffalo Bills fans on a 1000-mile round-trip pilgrimage, and of course there's ballet and soccer and school potlucks and work. But stuff's going on, I assure you!</div>
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First off, we've submitted our paperwork to the Maryland Historical Trust. That long process two years ago, with all the approvals and denials and back-and-forth about the color of our roofing shingles and the width of our doorways? We filled out the forms, sent in a bunch of annotated pictures of various places in the house where there had been consternation on their part over what we were going to do, and are now sitting, crossing our fingers like we did two years ago. Except whereas the process then ended with their blessing for us to go ahead and begin work, the process now ends with a big fat reimbursement check. Needless to say, this process will hopefully end in celebration, just like that one did... Just without the use of sledgehammers on Christmas Day.</div>
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But in the meantime, life goes on, and progress has happened. During a weekend spent with my parents at the house a couple of weeks ago, my dad and I put together Abby's closet with one trip to Home Depot and about $40 in materials. (Sure wish other stuff worked that well!) It was a nice feeling of accomplishment, with my dad directing me as if I were working on my carpentry-for-dummies merit badge. But in the end, it looks/works great, and I had fun with my dad in the process. (Afterwards, he commented that it'd be nice to come over once and not talk about what's wrong or still needs to be done with the house, but I'll believe that when I see it; I'm convinced those are two of his favorite conversation topics!). Unfortunately, we weren't able to install the hot-water tap. The contractors had said they'd do it for $200 and I balked at the cost. So of course, when I call an independent plumber, they quote me over $600. I turned around and asked the contractors to help, like we swore we'd never do... And am still waiting for them to respond... And I don't blame them!</div>
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I did have one experience with lightning-quick response from the contractors since I last wrote. You may recall my grandmother's piano had been sitting in our foyer for a LONG time, since the contractors said they'd get around to moving it downstairs when they had enough guys on-site. That's because it arrived from Buffalo when we had no floors downstairs. Well, it had been six months since we moved in, and still the piano sat in the foyer. With Abby nearly ready to come home from Greece, I wanted a big "wow" for her, and knew a closet wasn't gonna cut it. So I cut a deal with the contractors: you have your guys come over to finish unfinished drywall in the storage area downstairs, trim the door to that room, and drill for and install the doorknob, and I'll pay someone else to come move the piano. I had never seen such a quick response from them. The workers came over the next day-- a day on which I *cough cough* felt too sick to work ;) -- and after a quick trip to Home Depot to buy five 8-foot-long sections of trim, the work was done. The same day, I had Johnson's Piano Movers come by and, after 45 minutes of figuring out how exactly the instrument could/couldn't fit down our semi-circular staircases, I suggested they take it all the way around the house and just go through the back door. Sure, they had to tip it on its side to wedge it through the mud room and had so little clearance once inside that removing the night-light from its socket made all the difference, but we now have a piano in our family room. And, way more importantly, we have a pianoless foyer. (It's actually really weird still, even two weeks later, to stand in such a "wide open" entranceway. And I still have to force myself to go down the west staircase, after being so used to it being blocked by the piano and its adjoining piles of stuff.</div>
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Speaking of Johnson's (as in the piano movers), one not-so-good thing that's happened in the last little bit is that more than half of the bushes I planted this summer have died. You may recall the eight bushes I planted on the hottest day of the year, when Abby and the kids were in North Carolina and some schmuck had just run off with my new bike. Four were from Merrifield Nursery, four from Johnson's in Olney, and all were expensive. Luckily, or rather, hopefully, buying expensive plants means buying warranteed plants. Now I just have to find a time to dig them up and replace them; maybe when my parents are over again next weekend. So three of our four Arborvitae survived-- only "Eileen to the Left" is kaput; but everything from Merrifield's died, including the really neat curly-haired cypress. All of 'em still have the tags on them; now I just have to dig out to receipts. But digging the actual plants out will be well-timed, actually, since we have a ton of bulbs that can go into the ground at the same time.</div>
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So that's the update for now. Lots of mundane stuff, but that's what happens when you actually live in a house, right? Little stuff, like last night was the first time we turned on the fireplace; i sat on the couch next to it and read "The Giving Tree" to Lola before bed. And our freezer door opens only half as much as it used to when the fridge door closes, thanks to a shim the contractors put under it; it's effectively leaning forward because of the slant of the kitchen floor, which used to be a porch floor, and there's only so much you can do to fix it. Thinking of getting childproof locks so we don't have to deal with a defrosted icebox every time one of the kids gets some juice. And this weekend is the big test: our first house party, for Isaac's birthday. In the meantime, though, just life in the house. And so far, it's working. :)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wait-- where did the piano go?<br />What will we do with a pianoless foyer?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNUo4pRfvMK3jMHz4fzonKD8Wi9GLUHeDepSV6hO-u1zzYtMTBX5uOVVi1_bQsWSOy9R71YqX3bqgTMUVQStvCgNf6QjuAmL3H9s6zKlWxydf7kDysGtP0uFK-hJBlfms4j0aTGqIdjY/s1600/20131009+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNUo4pRfvMK3jMHz4fzonKD8Wi9GLUHeDepSV6hO-u1zzYtMTBX5uOVVi1_bQsWSOy9R71YqX3bqgTMUVQStvCgNf6QjuAmL3H9s6zKlWxydf7kDysGtP0uFK-hJBlfms4j0aTGqIdjY/s320/20131009+(5).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The piano rolling down the sidewalk by the kids' rooms...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJ3svjV8C6g7Kq_ImXYwYANafw8mLuDbhGFcGZae2qewTPlk8wmZw0AmFA5U6VcANBSNQ4QMsfVhiaBYeUzG3qU84Y8EeL41OzkL1koiCER_F1XyJCvOaqL58MpAhEp81Tt7MkSILZ6g/s1600/20131009+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJ3svjV8C6g7Kq_ImXYwYANafw8mLuDbhGFcGZae2qewTPlk8wmZw0AmFA5U6VcANBSNQ4QMsfVhiaBYeUzG3qU84Y8EeL41OzkL1koiCER_F1XyJCvOaqL58MpAhEp81Tt7MkSILZ6g/s320/20131009+(6).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and then through the backyard...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCfMO_wGx9hvx1pDTdl7Mt-0kK0JpgH5GCusR2z4zjBBlQoyZm3RcAUEh3LDXgkvrcjtf62np6Y7ojIWpfj4CnbAydVc6b7_5L7kaMth3XO7tpnj99uF3PiPvWCGCQDwF6effJfNjvrHM/s1600/20131009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCfMO_wGx9hvx1pDTdl7Mt-0kK0JpgH5GCusR2z4zjBBlQoyZm3RcAUEh3LDXgkvrcjtf62np6Y7ojIWpfj4CnbAydVc6b7_5L7kaMth3XO7tpnj99uF3PiPvWCGCQDwF6effJfNjvrHM/s320/20131009.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...then into the mudroom...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmPu5WmbrFtLDKXkq54LcCKkWcj0YbYFVEKXIi8bw80wanRR1ANGiQ9JuzE_pXw8Wlkw4daeRUObEx8nCbwpAvER4YQPjFq2_DxBNRgR8RGbOHZ9Djn30ER1W4_0Uwwvz4zfaxHStcks/s1600/20131009+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmPu5WmbrFtLDKXkq54LcCKkWcj0YbYFVEKXIi8bw80wanRR1ANGiQ9JuzE_pXw8Wlkw4daeRUObEx8nCbwpAvER4YQPjFq2_DxBNRgR8RGbOHZ9Djn30ER1W4_0Uwwvz4zfaxHStcks/s320/20131009+(2).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and into the family room...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuBYPXixW6e2zdgwt3Myogla5us8BPKYOfmkwBdDh8abVIV0xK5eaFOFZ_8EJgkkfjuUO3CUnhbVIl50rOPqZ-silxQ95QnQ7lo1AGkkzaGY3k5iJyNGsSf_gNlJh-OaJVN2J0AN_Qrs/s1600/20131009+(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuBYPXixW6e2zdgwt3Myogla5us8BPKYOfmkwBdDh8abVIV0xK5eaFOFZ_8EJgkkfjuUO3CUnhbVIl50rOPqZ-silxQ95QnQ7lo1AGkkzaGY3k5iJyNGsSf_gNlJh-OaJVN2J0AN_Qrs/s320/20131009+(4).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...where it belongs! FINALLY!</td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-42394131243429494042013-09-16T23:16:00.000-04:002013-09-16T23:16:24.746-04:00It's Over<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It's over, folks. Fini. 27 1/2 months after we closed, 2 years to the day after we received state approvals, 21 months after the sledgehammers started swinging. But also five months after we moved in, and a year after our desired date of completion. But it's over. All work requested of our general contractor has been completed. Let me repeat that, but louder: ALL WORK REQUESTED OF OUR GENERAL CONTRACTOR HAS BEEN COMPLETED. THAT FELT GOOD--er-- that felt good.</span></div>
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Final touches were done on the kitchen in the middle of last week: grouting the backsplash tile (black, Abby's idea-- surprised me, but looks great); painting the top sash of the far window that had, for some reason, never been painted; getting up under the little notches with black paint to give added depth (Abby's idea too, she wasn't sure I'd like it, but I love it). Standing in the far end of the kitchen at night, it feels like an old-fashioned modern French kitchen, if that makes sense. I love it.</div>
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And downstairs, a third of our mudroom has been gobbled up by the new closet that encloses the water heater. Actually, a lot more of the mudroom is left than we thought, and we might actually be able to hang some hooks on one side so as to get some coats up on the wall. We still need to paint it, but whatever-- it'll be white, like everything else down there. (My only complaint: there are too many angles in there now, but it had to be that way to allow clearance for the required access panel.)</div>
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There are a couple of things we realized that have not yet been done. For instance, the door between the guest room and the storage area has been hung, but the doorknob is uninstalled and there's no trim inside or out. When I mentioned this to Abby, she could not have shot back more quickly her desire not to involve the contractors in even one more project. Her take is that if we ask them to do something, they'll just pass it on to the subs, charge us too much, and take too long. Instead, we got the phone number of one of the workers we know who has done excellent work, and we'll ask him. (We've already asked him to help us with an odd job at the old house.)</div>
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The latter part of last week was spent trying to get the invoice out of them. I told them countless times that we'd want an invoice to turn in for the historical requirements, yet it constantly seemed like a surprise to them-- as if keeping records was anathema to their way of life. They sent a first draft invoice, which was hilarious because it just mimicked the loan numbers, which we all agreed were just placeholders. Plus, they included things like floors and doors and appliances-- things we purchased ourselves. After three drafts, we finally got an acceptable (if imperfect) invoice in my inbox <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1592633596" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">on Sunday</span></span>. But not after being pestered for more of the money we owe them. Abby had given them $5,000 midweek, and we're disputing some of their final charges. We say we owed them a bit under $8,000 before that payment; they claim it's a bit over $9,000. So I gave them $2,000 more <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1592633597" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">on Saturday</span></span>, since that was undisputed and we really need that invoice. We'll see what happens next.</div>
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But really, apart from the last $900 (or $2,300, depending on whose side you're on) and the movement of our piano from its resting place in the foyer down to the family room, we have wiped our hands of Servicez Unlimited. It's really a pity-- we started off loving Rory, then Mark took over and things went for a roller-coaster ride that ended with, if not hard feelings, a definite desire never to deal with each other again. I'm not so sure that they'll ever respond to a call from us should we need to make use of our warranty... and I'm not so sure that the two years didn't start when they started work, which, when you think about it, was more than two years ago now. Regardless, it may take more than the already-chipping exterior paint for us to call them again.</div>
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Things are not done. There is still a lot of work to do. We have a long road ahead of us with paperwork, with landscaping, with living in the house. But this part is over. We no longer live in a construction zone. We can unpack boxes with the knowledge that they don't have to be repacked-- possibly for decades. We can sit on the couch, and stare around, at OUR (technically) COMPLETED HOUSE. And yep, the allcaps there were deliberate.</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-1672241128534974182013-09-06T22:04:00.000-04:002013-09-06T22:04:40.565-04:00Squatting No More<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been a month since I last wrote-- more than a month, in fact. And I wish I could say there have been massive movements in construction. Actually, were it three days ago, I could say absolutely no physical movements have been made. But in the past three days, well, movement. First off, though, is the most important thing to happen since I last wrote.</div>
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The reason I haven't written about the house for so long is that I haven't actually been in it. Between a 2,500-mile road trip and a 25,000-mile business trip, I only slept in my own bed four times during the entire month of August. But early last month, while I was visiting friends and family in Buffalo, we got the big news we'd been waiting for for so long: we passed our inspection. So, for the first time on this blog, I can tell you we are no longer squatters in our own home. (I know, right?) And I wish I could be more excited about that pronouncement of officialdom from the good people in Rockville, but the thing is, for the next month, absolutely nothing happened in the house. Oh wait-- they planted grass seed that actually grew. So there, we have a lawn. In the meantime, my closet lay in ruins, having been assembled and active since April; as a result, unpacking after 17 days of leisure, and packing for 18 days of business just 4 days later, was accomplished with more than a little consternation on my part.</div>
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But then, there was communication. Yes, none other than Servicez Unlimited themselves texted us, we thought because they wanted to work. But no. Actually, they just wanted money. You see, we still owe them about $15,000, money that was held by the mortgage company until all work was done. You may remember it as the money they decided to allow to lapse rather than having to deal with us anymore. So, sure, we owe it to them, but they ain't getting it all until we are happy. Abby met with Marc and, while I said she should give him a third of it, gave him half. In exchange, they agreed to wipe away some of the ridiculous charges they had amassed, like a $70 charge for delivering a door.</div>
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A week later, still nothing from them. So I texted them back-- seeing as it's apparently the way they communicate best now, although I prefer email because of the more easily-discernable trail. By the end of the day, I've worked out with them that there are several things they're just itching to complete-- do you sense my sarcasm?-- and they can start on Wednesday, and "be finished by the end of the week," if I get back to them by 7pm; otherwise, it'll be another week, for some reason. Interestingly enough, I get the text at 5pm, giving me plenty of time to consider. But consider I do, and within 15 minutes I respond to most of the bullet points as if to say GET YOUR BUTTS OVER HERE. Among those things I don't agree to? A $250 installation of the hot water tap they had already installed, only to remove because they screwed up the plans they submitted to the county. The tap cost about $125, and I know for a fact my dad can install it; I'm pretty sure I can too, which tells you either how easy I think it is, or how little further work I wish to give to these guys.</div>
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So Wednesday comes. And voila-- my closet is reassembled. I feel I can step back into the adulthood I had claimed in April.</div>
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But then Thursday comes. And all the whining and begging and debating and convincing becomes worthwhile-- at least momentarily. We pull up in our parking space, look up at our kitchen windows, and see it: nothing. Nothing, as in there had been a ridiculously high backsplash blocking half of our window array. And now? At least five inches had been cut off. Abby ran into the house-- I think she forgot she had kids in tow-- and opened the window, yelling for me to come up and see. Walking into the great room, the change is immediately perceptible; there are just so many more TREES visible. Standing at the counter looking toward the glen, you can actually see most of the backyard without having to get up on the counter with your knees. It's the view we fell in love with 31 months ago, when we first stepped into the house. And the icing on the cake? Tiles. Abby chose white subway tile, similar to what we had in our old kitchen, except with beveled edges, to line the exposed walls and what's left of the backsplash, and they look amazing. The look is exactly what she wanted, the installation is perfect-- even along the uneven stone wall backing the fireplace-- and Abby is giddy. She decided it looks so good that she wants one more wall covered in it, rather than being painted. (Being the nice one, she at least feigned changing her mind if I would be upset that her plan would tile over a wall I had painted in my paintathon a couple months back.) For those of you who know Abby, you'll appreciate that she wanted this bad enough the she was willing to drive a half-hour through the suburbs to get an extra pack of tile, and another half-hour back to deliver it to the guys before turning around and driving yet another half-four, getting to the kids' school in time to pick them up. That, my friends, is dedication to design.</div>
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So that's where we stand now. Still incredibly frustrated with the contractors, but more and more feeling that it doesn't matter. It's the end of the week, and they're not finished as they had texted, but it's not like I believed them. After all, we're about a year late now-- remember, we were originally shooting for Labor Day 2012. Regardless, only small stuff is left for them to do. The biggest thing on our horizon now is paperwork. Ten days from today is the due date for our submission to the Maryland Historical Trust. As long as we amass all the receipts we can, fill out all the necessary documentation, and get it in on time, we'll get a giant chunk of change back from the State of Maryland as a thank-you for saving a deteriorated old property. I've already gathered about $120,000 in receipts, and Abby was tasked with getting at least $20,000 more from Home Depot today, so we're well on our way. Pushing it, sure, but we'll make it.</div>
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What will be interesting is whether we'll be happier about finishing this project or cutting our ties to the contractors. My guess? The latter in the short term, and the former in the long term. But both will be welcomed, and that's for sure!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI0wgfEGr17S9t6F7CbQlInpJAwpH2gtZVK6gEhSJEenIRT9PWogXEFu2gv2rJwowtOvmbgfRjsUSCpgxtO3xqn5QYAPpKtWnEFTNm5-oBOArvjDu3Og6bd2mEUi3probGjm_Aa1iTdk/s1600/IMG-20130906-00321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYI0wgfEGr17S9t6F7CbQlInpJAwpH2gtZVK6gEhSJEenIRT9PWogXEFu2gv2rJwowtOvmbgfRjsUSCpgxtO3xqn5QYAPpKtWnEFTNm5-oBOArvjDu3Og6bd2mEUi3probGjm_Aa1iTdk/s640/IMG-20130906-00321.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-80993035991728533222013-07-20T17:37:00.002-04:002013-07-20T17:37:37.601-04:00Now You Can Find TP, But Not T-Shirts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">A while back, my sister approached me with a very important directive: under no circumstances were we to put the toilet-paper holder to the right of the toilet; it causes undue difficulty for right-handed people. Additionally, dispensers placed directly across from the toilet can be problematic should the distance between the seat and the opposing wall be great enough to require anything more than a slight forward lean. Having never actually thought about the placement of toilet-paper holders in the house-- other than my distaste for free-standing holders placed beside the toilet-- I proceeded to visit both of our bathrooms, sat on the lids, and groped around to see which were the optimum placements for our specific set-up.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Turns out, my sister was not only correct, but will have to deal with the reality that neither of her directives were heeded. The toilet-paper holder upstairs can really only be placed to the right of the toilet, since there's no wall to the left, and the bath towels hanging directly across would make any roll underneath them humid--yuck. Downstairs, there's no wall on either side-- regardless of the fact that we wanted one, if you can recall that from a ways back-- so the opposite wall's the only choice, apart from a free-stander, which is out of the question. This is all to say, however, that after living in the house for three months now, and having working plumbing for several more, we now have mounted bathroom hardware!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamUF7ZoLc2i065GIwYIIT2jsQ7Zsu2j6neO72mjW_YupKbEALLKefglR0vpwEh6piViEuAUVJnc8BB3QIRYBkycqTaBD6Jbtk7muSdUHe5OdaVFlsMFfmYu6qkF53cfwl7OuiM5VIYBY/s1600/IMG-20130718-00044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamUF7ZoLc2i065GIwYIIT2jsQ7Zsu2j6neO72mjW_YupKbEALLKefglR0vpwEh6piViEuAUVJnc8BB3QIRYBkycqTaBD6Jbtk7muSdUHe5OdaVFlsMFfmYu6qkF53cfwl7OuiM5VIYBY/s400/IMG-20130718-00044.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Now you can actually dry your hands in our upstairs bathroom.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQEPSSnIR-JOm9RQ0fyFYzmsUM1GD7rTLryhJhfhL2uF8WiTMsjkcdZETF1IKB146BGy6ophrg2uLJpTyxtd005a2H8Qbi0K3Lo8tLmdDM0g3JkAwlXwQpCTB24FDuf_RLKFtiluZAZs/s1600/IMG-20130718-00043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQEPSSnIR-JOm9RQ0fyFYzmsUM1GD7rTLryhJhfhL2uF8WiTMsjkcdZETF1IKB146BGy6ophrg2uLJpTyxtd005a2H8Qbi0K3Lo8tLmdDM0g3JkAwlXwQpCTB24FDuf_RLKFtiluZAZs/s400/IMG-20130718-00043.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">What you see when you sit on the toilet<br />in our upstairs bathroom.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxhV9HxUiX0F-DodGUsk1utlAyBPwJpjzZY4tMEmacZrML3zOcZ5EFtmVN6uxk1NfIbmAd_UYxB48TJ-84Q1ACSpX_VYtHLhATDmr0FfD9fjsqzXUXFKg5HMMroSWPRQ-hPDXaM04t5g/s1600/IMG-20130718-00045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVxhV9HxUiX0F-DodGUsk1utlAyBPwJpjzZY4tMEmacZrML3zOcZ5EFtmVN6uxk1NfIbmAd_UYxB48TJ-84Q1ACSpX_VYtHLhATDmr0FfD9fjsqzXUXFKg5HMMroSWPRQ-hPDXaM04t5g/s400/IMG-20130718-00045.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">What you see when you sit on the toilet<br />in our downstairs bathroom.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5juJVZVJt86BdRrD_U0NZldxMwZyk-k9rZOx8B0eaTGftP6-QGrObqjVRvKb8nFzYTVh0bjwfSDgHlVVQkGHQTavE4FVLLOyKhJS82m3D_QJ7iVLFWmZFvKtdTUVKoohkhFIn0zNYcM/s1600/IMG-20130718-00041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5juJVZVJt86BdRrD_U0NZldxMwZyk-k9rZOx8B0eaTGftP6-QGrObqjVRvKb8nFzYTVh0bjwfSDgHlVVQkGHQTavE4FVLLOyKhJS82m3D_QJ7iVLFWmZFvKtdTUVKoohkhFIn0zNYcM/s320/IMG-20130718-00041.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">My bed, with my closet sitting<br />on top of it. :(</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">As an aside, holy crap is it bright in Isaac's room! My mom complained about it last time they were over, but I didn't think anything of it. But on the second night in there, Isaac woke us up saying he couldn't sleep, and I had no idea what time it was-- judging by the light coming through the shades, I guessed it was about 5:30, but when I checked my phone, it was barely 3:15. That street lamp outside has some major power, and is positioned perfectly to make Isaac's room the Forest Glen equivalent of Times Square. (Maybe that's why all his guppies are dying? They've all got insomnia!) Needless to say, last night we moved the pile of clothes onto the closet floor and we all slept-- soundly-- in our own beds. Still, I worry that the brightness will somehow affect Isaac, even if he doesn't complain. I'm not worried about guests like my mom, because once the guest room is up and running, lack of light may be the problem, rather than overabundance. But black-out curtains might be in Isaac's future, unless we can somehow persuade the community to let us cover up the half of the light that points at our house.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The contractors have been at the house a few times this week, if you can believe it, and have supposedly put our house in compliance with twelve of the thirteen items that had caused us to fail our inspection the last time around. The one that's left I'll discuss in a moment, but I'll note that the reason I say they put us in compliance rather than "they fixed the stuff" is our closet work-around situation. The issue in there was that my closet system, which was installed back in April and represented a big, unusual splurge for me, did not leave enough clearance for the inspector's taste when it came to the ceiling lighting. So rather than rerouting the electric and tearing drywall up, the contractors wanted to tear out my closet. Abby called me at work, asking if I would be okay with the system's temporary removal, pending the inspection. I freaked out, since part of the draw for me was that a) the system was installed by the manufacturer, and b) it has a lifetime warranty. I didn't want anything the contractors did to void the warranty, so I called Closet America to see what the deal was. Apparently, they're okay with it, but anything broken during the process would not be covered. In other words, you break it, you buy it. I communicated this to Abby, telling her that they could take it apart as long as they took responsibility for any issues. Abby confided that she trusted Fernando, the guy who'd be doing the work, so it all went down on Tuesday. As a result, our entire closet was emptied onto our bed, and we slept in Isaac's room for two nights while the kids had sleepovers in Lola's room.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlWDDrftfOkWfBszZXQYjCrpaFvyBIgo2MX2bQMeIaWq2TJ8IVQhBbMKqt9oA4DD2sSffyHjbc1uEyUIoBMF_JrBCApoQrROWa1Aslq6DEOFwe3mQgDE2gaqGmkUTGKLby0gA5ufdWZA/s1600/IMG-20130718-00042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlWDDrftfOkWfBszZXQYjCrpaFvyBIgo2MX2bQMeIaWq2TJ8IVQhBbMKqt9oA4DD2sSffyHjbc1uEyUIoBMF_JrBCApoQrROWa1Aslq6DEOFwe3mQgDE2gaqGmkUTGKLby0gA5ufdWZA/s400/IMG-20130718-00042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My closet, stripped naked of its accouterments.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So back to lucky #13: the foundation wall. When we last left off, we were in a weeks-long wait to get the new downstairs front wall approved, and were looking at a $4000 bill (and most definitely a fight over responsibility for that bill) to dig up our front yard for a day to show the inspector something he supposedly saw and forgot to record several months ago. This week, Mark told me there's an alternative: a third-party inspector who can approve the job by looking at the plans, figuring out where weaknesses would be that should be able to be detected even with finished walls and a filled-in front yard, and ensuring none of those weaknesses are present. All this for the bargain-basement price of about $2000. To me, this all sounds very fishy: some guy is allowed to okay a permit that some other guy can only approve once earth is moved, and all he has to do is knock around on some walls, and all we have to do is pay a fee about twenty times the price of normal? If I were abroad, I would call the Embassy or Transparency International to get the 411 on this, but now? I just want this thing completed. I feel defeated. I don't want to do anything that would jeopardize our investment in this place, but jeez! Meanwhile, we're steeling ourselves for what will inevitably be a brawl over the cost. But first things first: get the damn inspection!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So as it sits right now, we're potentially on track for a final inspection in the middle of next week, although I'll believe it only when the inspector physically enters the premises. But in the meantime, at least twelve-thirteenths of the requirements were completed, according to the contractors. And hey, we've got toilet-paper holders mounted on the wall now too-- and I'm totally willing to take the necessary flak from my sister.</span></span></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-81785922407759385402013-07-15T18:12:00.001-04:002013-07-15T18:12:24.999-04:00Cabinet Marathon Complete<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A year ago this week, I made my way to London for a month of working at the U.S. Embassy there during the Summer Olympics. Before I left, I made a couple of long, hard slogs on public transportation from the old house in Petworth up to the Home Depot in Aspen Hill to finalize plans for our kitchen cabinets, which required taking the Red Line to the end, then going on a bus that was labeled "Leisure World." All this, because supposedly so much was going to happen while we were abroad that it was imperative kitchen cabinets were designed and purchased before we left. Well here we are, a year later, and our kitchen cabinets have finally been completed. Yep, every cabinet is in, every door is correct, every door pull has been affixed, every appliance has been anchored, every gap has been filled. One huge box has been checked. And all it took was a year.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not that we haven't had stuff in the cabinets since we moved in-- er, "started squatting"-- three months ago. But now, we don't have to use a paint-can opener to get peanut butter, we don't have to keep glasses away from the front of the dishwasher drawers in fear of it tipping too far forward and flinging them out, and we don't have a seemingly teeny-tiny microwave sitting in a big hole. It's done!</span></div>
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<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1218337082" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">On Friday</span></span>, before I left to pick up Abby and the kids in North Carolina-- which, incidentally, also included a long slog on a bus-- the installers came by and finished the last five items on the list. What took so long, and who was to blame? Honestly, at this point I don't care, but it was a mix of the installers' poor measurement, Home Depot's poor transcription, and our terrible luck with all things housing-related. But they arrived, I gave them the list, and I left. (Actually, they gave me a ride to the Metro, which was nice, considering I was late for work.) First up, they attached all of the drawer pulls and door handles, which was great because we had actually purchased them separately, and the company was under no obligation to do that; since there were so many problems, though, I think they overlooked the fact that we probably could have been charged for what they did. Next, they installed the shield that goes around the microwave, filling the gaps around the unit and centering it in the hole; again, we bought this separately, back in February. After that, they switched out the solid wood door mistakenly delivered back in April with the glass door we had paid for, so now the cabinets flanking the range match, and we can see our glassware like we wanted. Next came the dishwasher, which lurched forward every time we emptied it because it hadn't been attached to the cabinets next to it; now it is, and it stays in place like it should. Finally, the gap between the top of the fridge and the bottom of the liquor cabinet was filled; unfortunately, it was too small a space to allow for a taller cabinet, so the space is just wasted. (Actually, I bet we could have had the filler on top and brought the cabinet down a few inches, but that'd involve changes that are just not going to be made-- I should slap myself just for thinking about it!)</div>
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I trusted that the guys finished the job, and didn't call to make sure all was well, assuming if something went wrong that they'd give me a call. Went right from work to the bus to the Carolinas, only seeing the finished product last night when we got home. I had told Abby about how the contractors installed the storage room door, raised the range hood, and worked on the porch roof, and she knew I had painted (for 20 total hours!), but this was a surprise for her to see. I think she loved it, but could see she was a smidge disappointed because of the placement of some of the hardware. The installers had asked me where the hardware went on the doors and drawers before I left-- something I had never previously considered. I couldn't get a hold of my notoriously unreachable wife because she had lost her phone on the trip, and because I didn't have her mom's telephone number due to a quirk with my own phone's contact list. So it was executive decision time: for the drawers, I chose to center the handle above the inlay, because putting it inside the inlay might look too anal retentive-- too "me;" on the doors, I went with their recommendation to center the knobs between the inlay and the side, square with the top of the inlay. I think Abby may have wanted the hardware to be more cornered than centered, but what's done is done. (I also think it'll take a while to get used to how busy the cabinets look now, seeing as I've gotten used to hardware-less cabinets these last three months!)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New in this shot: Glass door to left of range hood, <br />filler above fridge, all the hardware</td></tr>
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All said, our kitchen's not done. We still have to wait for our inspection, after which we can have the electric outlets on the backsplash moved, the backsplash itself cut down to a more manageable level, and the tiles that have been waiting so patiently in the foyer finally put up. After that, the part of the cabinetry that faces out the windows needs to be finished-- hopefully in white, so as to match the color of the cellular shades on the rest of that side of the house as seen from outside. Then? Then that's it. I think. Or rather, then maybe we'll have to start fixing things, like when they finish painting the Golden Gate Bridge and just start over at the other end. (Shoot me now.)</div>
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But in the meantime, I got to make a PBJ for myself this morning, and didn't have to use a construction implement to facilitate the simple act of opening a door. It will make all the "gourmet cooking" we plan to do in that room so much easier, that's for sure. As Martha Stewart might say, "That's a good thing." And as Paula Deen might say, "I like your white cabinets, y'all."</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-34007620077777914352013-07-09T18:55:00.001-04:002013-07-09T18:55:46.970-04:00White on White<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">With Abby and the kids in North Carolina for the week, I've been left to my own devices. And that means, in the last four days, I've made three trips to Home Depot, spent fourteen hours painting, and have somehow reinvigorated our contractors. Don't ask me how on that last one, because if I knew, I'd kick myself for not having done whatever it was a whole lot earlier.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.commercialappeal.com/media/img/photos/2012/06/28/319333_t607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://media.commercialappeal.com/media/img/photos/2012/06/28/319333_t607.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Just like Adam Duritz of Counting Crows,<br />I have stepped into a fog where no one<br />notices the contrast of white on white.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">First off, what I'm doing myself. Painting. And more painting. We have about three miles worth of trim in our house, and all of it is plain white-primed wood, just ready to be finished. No idea why it was put in prior to being painted, but I'm not about to pull it off piece by piece in order to make the painting process quicker, as my cousin Tim the contractor suggests. (Tim the out-of-state contractor, I might add; otherwise, he'd be Tim my contractor.) I know pulling it off would speed up the painting process, but I have nowhere to do the actual painting once that happens-- no basement, no yard that isn't entirely mud (and would therefore likely force me to clean the trim after painting it), no workhorse things (isn't that what they're called?) to set up on the street outside. So for this project, it's the slog of alternating between a paintbrush and a mini-roller, laying on the ground and climbing ladders and choosing a shirt to ruin with paint-- my old, huge Albany tee, in this case.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">The painting is satisfying up close, because I can see the paint going on wet, but frustrating from afar. That's because, after eight hours of painting on Saturday, I stepped back and saw pretty much no change at all. White paint replaced white primer. (At least all the furniture was moved away from the wall and my Albany shirt was sufficiently messed up, so I could prove to neighbors passing by that I had actually been doing something the whole day!) However, on day two, things changed. Only three hours of painting on Sunday left me with completed trim-- two coats-- throughout the entire upstairs. And since it's high-gloss, while you can't necessarily see the difference, you can feel it. Just run your hands across the door frame on the way to the kitchen, and instead of a blunt, matte surface, your hands are greeted with a smooth, cool surface that says "people might actually live here!" Monday night I started downstairs, and after three hours I stopped, having completed a first coat in the bathroom and mud room-- that's it. Holy cow: whose idea was it to get trim?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">This afternoon I'll have a choice: go back home and keep brush-painting the as-yet unpainted surfaces, or stop by Home Depot for a fourth time in five days to get a new roller so I can do the second coat. I tried the trick Abby told me about-- wrapping the roller in cellophane and sticking it in the fridge-- but rather than keeping it wet and usable, like the paintbrush, it just hardened the roller into a latexy rock.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x7lOWuXZHaOv926VzEoYjAe6Iq0_hWuJyHA4TyTUjhM-uC4eotLTNmMvixueYouT1a90YLddj_5QNeJkJDQ00OkxIw7JryStyFWFRYttp1jvIgsytZ5SFF87GFvZOLbl0h01EWKo5zI/s1600/130708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x7lOWuXZHaOv926VzEoYjAe6Iq0_hWuJyHA4TyTUjhM-uC4eotLTNmMvixueYouT1a90YLddj_5QNeJkJDQ00OkxIw7JryStyFWFRYttp1jvIgsytZ5SFF87GFvZOLbl0h01EWKo5zI/s400/130708.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"Now real people can use me!"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Well, while that excitement was forming in the refrigerator, something was actually happening just a 90-degree turn to the left. Yes, contractors were in our house, and they fixed the problem with the range hood-- namely, that it was positioned about nine inches above the range itself, so as to aid denizens of Munchkinland in their cooking travails, should they ever need to make use of our kitchen. In their defense-- the contractors', not the Munchkins'-- the range hood had been placed level to the bottom of the cabinets, so there was a pretty line from one side to the other. But then there was that whole pesky not-being-able-to-reach-the-back-burners issue to deal with. Rory called me at work, asked me a bunch of questions pertaining to the things on our list, and surprised me when he said he saw what I was talking about-- meaning he was actually at the house. His being sent out is probably a sign that I have pissed Mark off enough that he wants to shut me up, but I think that's a good sign. Especially since when Rory's on the scene, things get done.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">It all probably emanated from my frustrated email last week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">Mark + Rory: What is going ON? </span></i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">No one has been here for at least ten days. </span></i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">Meanwhile, we're living in a construction zone, and people are downright laughing at us. We would be too-- this is beyond ridiculous. There is NO acceptable reason your guys were not here this week. </span></i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">NOT amused. </span></i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">We need action immediately on the items we emailed you with already three times. There are NO excuses. </span></i></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #222222;">Gregory + Abby</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">I'm not usually an emphatic capitalizer, but come ON. Actually, I bet it came from the fact that I copied Rory on the email, rather than just sending it to Mark; that's worked in the past, and I don't know why I had stopped doing it. Whatever reason, something was done yesterday, and a large piece of drywall was left on our front porch, so who knows what else they're planning for this week?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Other than painting and the stove, the only other movement on the house has been self-initiated. After seeing the constant influx of cricket spiders and regular spiders and fruit flies and now wasps inside and out, I made an executive decision to get us some pest management. Terminix came out and sprayed the place, and now there are clumps of dead little bugs in the corners of the bathroom that I have to sweep up every day. I was told to wait two weeks, then call for another round, at which point everything should be dead. The exterminator was amusing-- he started the appointment by telling us how he's pretty sure he and his friends used to get high in our house back when it was abandoned (then apologized if that offended us, which hopefully you know it wouldn't, especially since he's not the first to tell us he'd done that!), then told us our house had an inordinate number of bugs in it, finishing up by asking if he could grab a ziploc bag to take a few back to the office, since there was a specific bug-- teeny tiny white ones-- he'd never seen before. Always ones to be unusual, we are.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">I also finished the row of bushes planted over the last two weekends by filling in the holes with nine bags -- 360 pounds -- of topsoil. The holes were the result of taking huge clumps of rock out of the bed. I guess I could have left 'em in there, but we want those bushes to grow, and I don't want rocks I left in the ground to be the reason all those bushes may get stunted. And as far as stunted bushes go, there's one issue I've been avoiding: our front yard.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">They're gonna have to dig it up. And someone's gonna have to pay. A few weeks ago now, Mark was telling me that he was fighting the inspection issue with the county, because the inspector had looked at the retaining wall, regardless of their records. Rory concedes that he probably should have called to follow up with the inspector, who had been there to look only at the footer, but that he definitely had done the inspection. I didn't believe Mark 100%, but I do trust Rory. Thing is, Mark mentioned the inspection while noting he had explained to the inspector how it "would be unfair to have to charge the homeowner $4000 to re-dig." No response from me, other than quiet bewilderment. So Rory mentions this time that they had feelers out to get quotes on the dig. So that sounds like they're at least trying to get the cost down... But I feel we shouldn't have to pay at all. It's not our fault, and although I'm now unconvinced that it's entirely the contractors' fault, it's not our fault. Similar to how I expect not to have to pay for the patching of two spots in the porch roof where recent downpours have revealed leaks, this was not a repair job-- it was a job from scratch, and we shouldn't have to pay to fix their mistakes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">But something tells me what I think ain't what's gonna happen. Sigh.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">So for now, I'm gonna focus on painting enough that it looks like something was actually done when the fam gets back, and hoping the contractors do enough that it can be a decent surprise to both me when I get home from work every day and Abby on her return. Hey, stranger things have happened. Like, for instance, work restarting this week.</span></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-61919978777881369822013-07-01T22:55:00.000-04:002013-07-02T07:56:12.799-04:00Easy Being Green<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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While we're waiting for our stalled inspection-- more about that later-- we've worked on making the place greener over the last week or so. We started last Saturday with a trip out to Johnson's Nursery in Olney, where we bought "The Irenes" -- four three-foot arborvitae that we placed alongside the SE side of our house, under the kids' bedrooms, between the window banks. This weekend, I hinted to Abby I wanted to finish the job, but she had been noncommittal to the various plants the Real Irene had showed us. There was, for instance, a series of Japanese hollies that came in normal, dwarf, and giant varieties that we'd be able to plant in between The Irenes and, right away, have the look that everything was the same size-- given the fact that the side of the house is on a slant. Or any number of other plants. But nothing doing. So I suggested we go back to Olney this weekend and revisit the decision. Abby suggested we go to <a href="http://www.merrifieldgardencenter.com/Home.aspx" target="_blank">Merrifield Garden Center</a> out near Tyson's, since she thought it was bigger and had better choices. If it meant I got to buy plants, I was all about it-- plus, we have had really good luck with their stuff; W.C. Merrifields, one of our favorite plants from the backyard of our old house, was in their clearance section, and now he's so big that our tenant tried in vain to suggest that we trim him back this spring. NEVER!</div>
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<a href="http://www.merrifieldgardencenter.com/productionFiles/images/summer_logo.aspx" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.merrifieldgardencenter.com/productionFiles/images/summer_logo.aspx" /></a></div>
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So we went off to Merrifield, and spent a good couple of hours browsing around. After about 20 minutes, the kids decided they'd had enough-- after only about five, Lola was pulling her "I'm tired of walking" shtick. No, sorry Lola, you're related to Gregory and Abby, so you're gonna have to deal with walking. So while Abby pondered and pondered, as she's apt to do, I took the kids over to play with the fountains and the koi pond. After an hour or so, we headed back to see what Abby was up to, and found she had arranged six plants from side to side, smallest to the left, largest to the right, in a display of what she thought would be good on the side of the house. They were really pretty, but all together they cost almost $400. Plus, I really didn't think we'd have enough room for them all. Sure, we do now, but when they grow, they'll totally bunch up, and not in a charming-garden kind of way, like we want eventually out front. So we winnowed them down to four-- although I think only three were necessary-- and brought 'em home.</div>
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The area we have is 30 feet across, and 32-34 inches wide-- about the width of a sidewalk. It's at a crazy slant so that at the far left there is a clearance of about two inches between the ground and the window sills, but at the far left there's almost five feet. So clearly, there was math involved. With The Irenes positioned at the ends and between the windows, we had ten feet between the first two, nine between the next two, and another ten between the last two; however, each Irene will get about four feet wide, so that left us with three spaces of six, five, and six feet in width. Follow?</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjQM21eorrrkZjYmnXRBAgFZWIKC_P72Mchsmhqj8OXcE83eLGowifi8NAdIHvJBS2o2IwB4TFYyynSC_rtAJU7sbY_keEqRYGg0fzUx0FZbvKIaZOj4qEzQki9Jln0TNUmUhOWx587U/s1600/130630+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjQM21eorrrkZjYmnXRBAgFZWIKC_P72Mchsmhqj8OXcE83eLGowifi8NAdIHvJBS2o2IwB4TFYyynSC_rtAJU7sbY_keEqRYGg0fzUx0FZbvKIaZOj4qEzQki9Jln0TNUmUhOWx587U/s400/130630+(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They say a picture's worth a thousand words?<br />
Well, this one's worth at least a few paragraphs.</td></tr>
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Three of the four bushes we bought are really cool. Funny enough, we ended up buying two more arborvitae (although way different looking than the originals), and two differed cypresses. The shortest of the three cool ones went in the middle of the left space, right under Isaac's bank of windows. It's a Whipcord Arborvitae, and the only way I can describe it is by referencing Side Show Bob from The Simpsons. It's only about a foot tall right now, but it's got dreadlocks, and will grow to about four feet tall at maturity. I think this one will be called "Marley," for obvious reasons, but also because Lola has a friend named Marley, and it's better that than the crazy thing Isaac thought of in his stream-of-consciousness style of thought. Next, in the middle, is a Rheingold Arborvitae, which is rounded, about two feet tall, and is colored bright green with a tinge of yellow/orange-- hence the name. It's smack-dab in the center of the stretch, right where the wall between the kids' rooms is. Hopefully, it'll grow big and bushy enough that it'll block the direct view of the kids' bed areas, although with the curtains in, that matters less. Finally, on the right side in Lola's windows is my favorite-- the Curly Tops Cypress, which is blue like a spruce, really soft to the touch, and looks like a bush made of poodle hair. It's really cool, and can supposedly grow 8-10 feet tall, which would be awesome. Ideally, all of the bushes will grow high enough that the bottom halves of all the SE-facing windows will be obscured... but that won't be until the kids are probably in middle school at least!</div>
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Interestingly enough, while I'm not "that dad" at all, I had very much been considering buying plants with thorns to put under the windows. For Abby's sake, it was to deter people from stealing our kids through their windows, but for my sake, it was to deter my kids from using their windows to sneak out an night when they're older. That said, they could just walk over to the back door, and it'd be easier and probably quieter, so there goes that idea... We had found an amazing plant called a Mock Orange Flying Dragon that would have been amazing for that reason-- it was all spindly with big thorns, but produced beautiful flowers and tiny inedible oranges year round-- but Abby didn't like how it looked in the winter, so that was nixed in favor of the other three-- all of which are perfectly soft and quiet to brush against. Oh well.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxe1hNq78Or0u8zEltpYPK1st68X0Lp6vZiu2i6oZZtgNPUb_y9L30PCZjwRz5ABh859Zeet2FAWM-EwDMmNmtE9Lig2AsYiRtzmXfxR5AnUSOmS5BXrjHrTr9A3_x9iXJOhmYekeS5w/s1600/130630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxe1hNq78Or0u8zEltpYPK1st68X0Lp6vZiu2i6oZZtgNPUb_y9L30PCZjwRz5ABh859Zeet2FAWM-EwDMmNmtE9Lig2AsYiRtzmXfxR5AnUSOmS5BXrjHrTr9A3_x9iXJOhmYekeS5w/s400/130630.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New sidewalk, new bushes, new hose,<br />
and lots of unearthed stones</td></tr>
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(Oh, and the fourth tree-- the most expensive, and the smallest-- was a Tsukumo Dwarf Cypress that's about the size of a bowling ball, and grows in that shape. I convinced Abby it didn't belong with the rest, with the hope that we could return it, but she liked it a lot, so right now it'd just in a planter until we can think of something else to do with it.)</div>
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I planted them all on Sunday afternoon, and was lucky enough to have a huge rainstorm about an hour later, so didn't have to water them. The number of big rocks I pulled out of that yard is ridiculous-- the area under the Yew tree in that corner is strewn with unearthed stone right now-- and the topsoil is a patchwork of colors right now, from the orangey-brown clay that was there originally to the brownish-gray topsoil and the black nutrient-rich fertilizer I bought, plus some other stuff thrown in. But it's there, and I love how it looks. There's just something about planting stuff-- especially stuff that'll stay around for years-- that's so satisfying to me. Now, if we can just get to that damn front yard. </div>
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So now for the front yard update. Meaning: what the heck is going on with the inspection. Get a load of the latest: You all know we're waiting for our Certificate of Occupancy inspection from the county, and that while we failed 13 different things, the main issue was that there was no record of an inspection of our new foundation wall at the front of the house. You may also know that Mark said he might have to re-dig the area in our front yard so as to show the inspector what the now-buried wall looks like, thus precluding us from doing anything in the front yard, But what you don't know is that Mark more-than-alluded to the fact that it would cost us $4,000 to have that done. Yes, for him to dig up the yard to show the inspector who he claims inspected a wall, but who claims he did not, more than a year ago, he wants to charge me, and that charge would be $4,000. When I mentioned this to Abby the other day, she flipped out. Honestly, although it would be so much easier for the county to "realize" they had inspected the wall after all, part of me wants them not to, just so I can see my mild-mannered wife go ballistic on whomever it is that broaches the subject of us paying for that dig. Ballistic, I tells ya. For now, the news is that Mark has petitioned for them to approve the wall without a dig, seeing as he had to have the footer under the wall inspected at the same time, and the county <u>does</u> have a record of us passing that. While it would totally make sense that both things would have been done at the same time, I don't put it past our contractor to have bypassed the one because the other would be done easily enough later on. (If you can't tell, they're no longer getting even a modicum of a benefit of the doubt from us.)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQ_CBGF21VmXYpRtd8jldADVqsUAvNMULJggRiV9e8-x9Y2jsnwox1NPDcbqUp4X-eL0qit1xq0l1kNP9-6e7jWtWweO8teiUxQBMZQASOg_Z8-vNmt11cb0rmRv19qyG2Lhpk85-7JA/s1600/IMG-20130702-00007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQ_CBGF21VmXYpRtd8jldADVqsUAvNMULJggRiV9e8-x9Y2jsnwox1NPDcbqUp4X-eL0qit1xq0l1kNP9-6e7jWtWweO8teiUxQBMZQASOg_Z8-vNmt11cb0rmRv19qyG2Lhpk85-7JA/s400/IMG-20130702-00007.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bathroom window and the resulting<br />post-shower leak. Oh, and that white stone<br />to the left of it is positioned where the roof leaks.</td></tr>
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Also, as I mentioned last time, we "won" a giveaway from Montgomery County for a free home-energy audit sponsored by the Maryland Historical Trust. I guess ten historic homes from each county were selected from among all the applicants-- and we applied, thanks to a heads-up from Bonnie (thanks!)-- and we were one of those chosen. Originally, we had been told they might bring a film crew along to record it for local TV, but that never happened, which is good, since our house is pretty much a disaster inside right now, with us still in squatter mode and all. But the guy came late last week and ran his tests all over the house, and we're supposed to get a report back one of these days on what we can be doing better. I can only imagine the exclamation points that will be all over the thing. So hopefully we can get going on whatever recommendations they make, without having to rely on Servicez Unlimited to do the job. As it is, we've been going back and forth with Mark for weeks now on our list of stuff to do. It's taken about the last four days to get the same damn list to him, this time broken down between stuff they have to wait until after the inspection passes to do, and STUFF THEY CAN DO RIGHT FREAKING NOW! One thing on that list: fix the leak in the porch ceiling that I noticed yesterday while I stood outside during a downpour and Lola ate her ice cream cone. Oh, and the fact that when we take showers upstairs, water trickles out the windows and pools on the floor of the porch along the wall. Great.</div>
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But hey, we've got bushes, right?</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-80337372035527364472013-06-24T21:55:00.000-04:002013-07-01T22:57:07.417-04:00Welcome to the Neighborhood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://activerain.com/image_store/uploads/8/8/9/0/6/ar134110941160988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://activerain.com/image_store/uploads/8/8/9/0/6/ar134110941160988.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scene of the Crime</td></tr>
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Before I start today's installment, I just wanted to send a big, hearty FU to the jerk that stole my bike this weekend. You see, I did go to Wal-Mart and buy a cheap bike because I didn't want to be upset if a more expensive one were to have been stolen, but I also figured any loss would be because I did something like leaving it out on my porch overnight-- as I've done several times-- or forgotten my lock or something. But no, it was stolen over the weekend while it was locked to the bike rack at Forest Glen Metro Station. You know-- the station in the suburbs <u>to</u> where I moved, as opposed to the one in the iffy neighborhood back in the District <u>from</u> where I moved. But hey, in the interim, before I re-buy that $94.94 basic blue bike again, maybe my face will clear up, because it's just exploded since I started sweating in the morning on the bike-ride in. Back when we lived in Petworth, we had a bunch of stuff stolen; in fact, both my dad's and my mom's bikes were stolen from our front porch last fall, but that was my own stupidity for leaving them out on the front porch. Isaac's winter jacket was stolen from inside his pediatrician's office one winter-- now <u>that</u>'s desperate-- and some jerk stole all of my CDs, my stereo, and a whole bunch of expensive tools from a friend's uncle who was helping us renovate, which totally sucked. But for some reason, this one hits me different. I had thought I had moved away from all of that shit. But here I was again yesterday, filing a police report and calling pawn shops. Argh.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinlJeOS9MEvbTCcWDPtc1WRxiKunD8uPGVlpKO3uT1Sbq_PhP5MUm3NogdBVuGy4cN-JLedt-OAF5jDehoSQjRvzquF9kYW_x5fqXIZ3llWBbkLZclp6p-ceT6rjWNofdmIXjkkNPlUvE/s1600/130624+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinlJeOS9MEvbTCcWDPtc1WRxiKunD8uPGVlpKO3uT1Sbq_PhP5MUm3NogdBVuGy4cN-JLedt-OAF5jDehoSQjRvzquF9kYW_x5fqXIZ3llWBbkLZclp6p-ceT6rjWNofdmIXjkkNPlUvE/s400/130624+(5).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our four newly-planted Arborvitae, that hopefully<br />
will grow in nice, straight, narrow columns into<br />
the spaces between our windows.</td></tr>
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The lovely incident came in the middle of what was an otherwise productive weekend on our part. Abby and I decided to go ahead and start planting in the one area in which we have the power to do so at this point-- the tiny strip of "yard" on the south side of the house, along the kids' windows. We drove up to Johnson's, a huge local nursery way up in Olney, and out of all of the amazing stuff they had, we ended up buying four Arborvitae. Yep, Arborvitae, the generic, everyone-has-three tree-bush. But we arrived at the purchase after consulting with a nursery employee who knew everything they had to offer. Our need was for four thin, narrow, tall evergreens that are good in full sun. Arborvitae. In fact, we have a sad, little Arborvitae in front of the Petworth house that we bought from Johnson's in Tenleytown; his name is Johnson. (And yes, we name our plants, for those of you who aren't aware.) We made our purchase on Saturday, then kept them out in the yard overnight, since we had tickets to see Daniel Tosh that night. (Good thing no one stole them! Grumble grumble grumble...) Sunday came around and it was pouring out, so I waited for the rain to subside, then went out to dig holes. By the time I was done, the sun was blazing, and it was about 340% humidity, but we had four new Arborvitae planted outside. And two of them are already named: the woman at Johnson's was named Irene, so of course the two are "Irene to the Left" and "Irene to the Right." (The ones in the middle remain unnamed for the time being.) The bushes or shrubbery (another shrubbery!) are coming next-- maybe even this weekend. But for now, it's the two Irenes, the two no-names, the brand-new sidewalk, and a colony of wasps on that side of the house.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk1A1O5B1JmeMx1hgkseOCRpzHy8r7eeNWAS0OLpz1jKkLjiGkGwIKyw9x7DCfM1GnT8FG6jGITbiyjLcajO-1oHLr0jxOYmKqxYWo6cz8puK0wKpIAwgfuWDAUy_ApoIUl4FDUibejE/s1600/130624+(7).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk1A1O5B1JmeMx1hgkseOCRpzHy8r7eeNWAS0OLpz1jKkLjiGkGwIKyw9x7DCfM1GnT8FG6jGITbiyjLcajO-1oHLr0jxOYmKqxYWo6cz8puK0wKpIAwgfuWDAUy_ApoIUl4FDUibejE/s400/130624+(7).jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New sidewalk, new plantings, more to come.</td></tr>
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Inside, some work has been done since the infamous list of 13 items was unveiled. Most of it, unfortunately, was not done by our contractor. He insists that the only major thing left to do is to show the evil inspector the retaining wall, which will require digging up our front yard again to show him underground. He had better not kill my hosta, I'll tell you that! He supposedly needs three consecutive dry days to do this, and it's true that it's been raining non-stop the past few weeks. He claims the rest of the things that need to be done can be done in about two hours, and he has all the materials in his truck, and they'll all be done on Wednesday at the earliest, if there's no rain forecast. Hopefully, the things that need to be done will be done a bit less haphazardly, unlike the way he "fixed" the problem with the poorly labeled fuse box. (Abby was <u>furious</u> when she saw it, and wrote him a pretty nasty email about it; he claims it was a temporary fix.)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFLs4NN2UoOhLRLku6zQxX1t4IwKE0ugeQsJYvdKWo18KBMhuBkYMGAb_DBjtKFrGQoDbPfVoJY5Ig0jLpE7eVcwS6FJF2XTJOAXp3zjEDKZ62WdCb1NTNv_HEAwKeXKZ1Ox7EPfTHHI/s1600/130624+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFLs4NN2UoOhLRLku6zQxX1t4IwKE0ugeQsJYvdKWo18KBMhuBkYMGAb_DBjtKFrGQoDbPfVoJY5Ig0jLpE7eVcwS6FJF2XTJOAXp3zjEDKZ62WdCb1NTNv_HEAwKeXKZ1Ox7EPfTHHI/s400/130624+(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new upstairs shower, and the new gray wall at left.</td></tr>
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But other stuff that has been done include our shower door, which was finally installed last week. I took the first shower upstairs, and was really happy with the size of the enclosure, which is a relief, since I had thought it would be really tight. I guess standing naked in the space gives you a bit better idea of how it feels than when you are clothed... Abby's still concerned about the window, since she showers at night, but she's got this totally ghetto wood block she puts up over the glass (which you can't see through, because it's pitted, but you can still see shadows) when she uses it. Hopefully that'll all be moot once our front landscaping's done. Also in the upstairs bathroom, we decided the walls looked too boring, and unfinished. I complained to her that I wanted a bathroom that felt like one in a nice hotel, and got one-- downstairs-- while the upstairs one, which was mine, felt like a Days Inn. A simple coat of gray paint on one wall may just have done the trick, and although they're not in yet, the towel bars should finish things off nicely.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK9eHoApx7YnsEjVHQpjalHCqjwB9e9vkyBl2w547sdJuhGTHuvrZumXj8SRW8hr-a6PVcFa2bxHJjYKUzJNY1QYEyWCB5KWMLh9efcXS0RSio4YkrvdlYEE1cEJmAtg-oBvJn8AuRRU/s1600/130624+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK9eHoApx7YnsEjVHQpjalHCqjwB9e9vkyBl2w547sdJuhGTHuvrZumXj8SRW8hr-a6PVcFa2bxHJjYKUzJNY1QYEyWCB5KWMLh9efcXS0RSio4YkrvdlYEE1cEJmAtg-oBvJn8AuRRU/s400/130624+(3).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our newly-painted black-on-black family room walls</td></tr>
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Elsewhere, Abby painted the white trim in the family room downstairs black to match the black walls, and immediately doubted herself because it cast a shadow. She claims she wanted the black-on-black look to blend in with itself, rather than to stand out. I don't quite understand, and told her-- likely to her frustration-- that I liked it both ways, but that it'd be awfully hard to re-white the stuff she already painted black. So she finished it up, doors and all, and turns out we both really like it. It may not be what she had envisioned, but those of us who know Abby also know her imagination sometimes leads her to magical lands filled with perfectly done, affordable, clean, timely homes-with-character, and, well, that's just a fiction as far as I'm concerned. But I like the walls.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.worstpreviews.com/images/magneto.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://www.worstpreviews.com/images/magneto.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Magnetite" is pretty much the same color Magneto wears.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I also painted one wall in the computer room the same gray as the front foyer-- so yes, now we have three different colors of gray in the house, in addition to all the white. This one is called "Magnetite," but I think I'd just call it "Dark Gray." Back when we had the floor finishers in the house, they were laughing at Abby for painting the walls so delicately, claiming that if she used more paint on the first coat, she wouldn't need a second coat. So I tried that, but I think it still might need a second, which sucks, because I really just want to watch TV tonight...</div>
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Other than that, not much else is going on. Just waiting for the damn inspection. Mark stood Abby up twice last week, after she had called him demanding a meeting to talk about the snail's pace he's been on. My parents were here for the weekend, and offered to help us do stuff, but there wasn't that much to do; my Dad helped us put doors on the cabinet in the mud room, but their biggest help was watching the kids when we went out on our Tosh Date. Oh, and we were picked by Montgomery County as one of ten historic homes to get a free energy audit this Wednesday. A few years ago, our friends Siobhan and Perry in New Jersey got an audit sponsored by their electric company that ended with a plan for how to make their home more energy-efficient, and the ability to pay for the work over time as an add-on to their electric bill; that was an amazing idea. We had the same thing in DC a year or so ago, but it ended with an email showing us where we could do things ourselves. We did like two of the things, but got sidetracked by this place. This time around, I'm hoping the audit's a lot more like New Jersey's than the District's, because I'm totally willing to pay for the upgrades, but I have no patience to go out and get someone to do the work; tell me what's wrong, fix it yourself, and take my Master Card, or fuhgettaboutit. In the meantime, I'll be sitting here, waiting for my inspection, ducking wasps, and getting to know my local pawn shops with the hope some idiot will come in with my month-old 26-inch blue and gray Roadmaster Granite Peak 18-speed bike from Wal-Mart. Welcome to the neighborhood.</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-47884808647641409172013-06-16T22:51:00.000-04:002013-06-16T22:53:29.737-04:00Lucky Number Thirteen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When we last left off, there were a number of things wrong with our house; wrong enough, that is, to preclude us from passing our inspection to receive Montgomery County's seal of approval to officially move into the house. Since then, we have found out that number: 13-- not usually the luckiest of numbers. There are 13 things wrong enough with our house to cause us to fail the inspection. The inspection was on June 6; today is June 16. What, you may ask, has been done in those ten days to remediate those issues? I can tell you definitively, in fact: Nothing.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-76QWztAGG89tua89Z8eP86lKRlr2caUczRi4Sr7AM_EVWoXQ_rKmhyOWTe4UxtSc2s0yzxdxy1psziX9SCzn-2r7g3u-GYD7ZIINNXv5A40pM34cAbO6dYCu1Q8O8Xu7kcfoxt5rHE/s1600/130615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-76QWztAGG89tua89Z8eP86lKRlr2caUczRi4Sr7AM_EVWoXQ_rKmhyOWTe4UxtSc2s0yzxdxy1psziX9SCzn-2r7g3u-GYD7ZIINNXv5A40pM34cAbO6dYCu1Q8O8Xu7kcfoxt5rHE/s400/130615.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My hostas are going to have to be dug up temporarily.<br />
But they're just beginning to bloom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Mind you, that doesn't mean we haven't been in contact with our contractors. There have been a couple of strongly worded emails from us. There have been a couple of nonchalant replies back. There have been two telephone conversations: one right off the bat, explaining Montgomery County had "misplaced" or "misfiled" the certification that our retaining wall had passed inspection; and one tonight, explaining that they were waiting for a period of time when there were three consecutive sunny days forecast-- enough to re-dig our front yard to expose the subterranean retaining wall, schedule an inspection for the next day, and refill the whole on the following day. While that made perfect sense, here's what I heard from that explanation: Blah blah blah someone screwed up it's not us; Blah blah blah it's too rainy; Blah blah blah we want to rip out your hostas just as they're starting to take. (Oh, and no mention of who's paying for this re-exposition of the aforementioned wall with the mysterious lack of ,municipal approvals.</div>
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In the meantime, Mark assures me, there will be a guy out here tomorrow to fix most of the stuff on the list. And what's on that list? I'm glad you asked:</div>
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Stabize the lot." Yeah, I think they mean "stabilize," but I'm not quite sure what's so unstable about our lot. I mean, the house has been here for 115 years; it ain't going anywhere.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Outside outlet is loose."</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Need backfill inspection for retaining wall." Discussed above.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Anti-tip device for cook tops." Oh, you mean the one that was sitting on our counter for a month? And our dishwasher leans forward, too, when you pull out either rack.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Shower curtain rod." The one thing that's our fault, but we have ordered the upstairs shower door, and it's due to be delivered and installed this week courtesy of Navij, our friendly Next Shower Door salesman.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Bedroom closet lights too close to shelf." Don't know how he's gonna fix that. It better not involve just getting rid of the light.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Need four-inch clearance on back of fireplace." This may just involve moving the gas unit forward; I'm not sure.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Mudroom outlet missing cover plate." Really? I'd hope that, were this the only problem, it wouldn't have failed us.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Need arc fault breakers." Um, okay. Something electric.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"AC breaker max 25 amp." Thinking it needs to be bigger?</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Panel directory too general." I agree. I want to know exactly how to turn everything off if there's a problem or a project.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Patch storage wall." Yeah, that thing my dad has been complaining about for months.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"Schedule all permits together." Because obviously we're attempting to make this go as slowly as possible.</li>
</ol>
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So in my estimation, there are about eight things that need to be fixed. Hopefully at least six of them can be done tomorrow. In addition, we have had a storage-room door sitting at Home Depot in Aspen Hill for a week now, and I just found out yesterday that our last remaining cabinet door is ready for pickup there as well. Was going to pick them both up tonight after we put the kids to bed, but I forgot that the place closes at 8:00 on Sunday, so I'll either go tomorrow evening or attempt to get them to deliver, since they offered to deliver the cabinet door for free. What I can do at this point, however, is to call the cabinet-install guys and schedule the final install for the kitchen, which should finalize not just that one remaining door, but also our pulls, as well as the things that go around the microwave and dishwasher to make the cabinets look complete.</div>
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While the contractors have been busy "working behind the scenes" (ahem), we have been semi-productive these last ten days. I won't lie and say we've done tons of stuff and are being held back entirely by the contractors, but I will say that there are things we've done that, with a little work from the contractors, will help us finish everything up. Abby, for instance, finally found bathroom hardware she likes. We got the stuff at Lowe's and have it in a bag, ready to mount. We are going to put Xs on the walls to show where we want everything mounted, because without doing so we're pretty sure everything will be put about a foot lower than it should be. Our tradesmen are great workers, but apparently they think we're midgets-- something I think I've noted previously. Our range hood is about 18 inches above the stove top, our vanities were originally set so low I had to bend over to brush my teeth-- I still have to stoop at the current, "highest possible" height-- and our mailbox is so low on the outside of the house that I'm fully expecting the Wicked Witch of the East's legs to be sticking out under our front porch. To all who have not met us: I am 6' 1", my wife is 5' 10", and my kids are both above the 90th percentile for their age in height. We have no need for those tiny toilets or baby-sized towel bars set two feet off the ground, thank you very much.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimNLykLJNxxYl2gAu06vB2dK4HguuMbbfPOlAxoEmeJR5u-br2Yhv4I6tOj9Fgraof1NY0UDd2FjIwAII2F21zJUbfW40NhYnb8iHxBTFupBydWGTAKiMvMxY9aoTVtchjGMK2BvUIxg/s1600/130615+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimNLykLJNxxYl2gAu06vB2dK4HguuMbbfPOlAxoEmeJR5u-br2Yhv4I6tOj9Fgraof1NY0UDd2FjIwAII2F21zJUbfW40NhYnb8iHxBTFupBydWGTAKiMvMxY9aoTVtchjGMK2BvUIxg/s400/130615+(3).jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new sidewalk out back,<br />
and the new setback for our bushes.</td></tr>
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We've also gone ahead and hired someone to help us with some landscaping issues; namely, that we have a number of spots on our property that are paved over that shouldn't be. Along the back side of the house, under the kids' bedroom windows, there's a sidewalk that comes right up and literally touches the house in parts. There is no need for strangers to walk that close to the house, easement or no easement. So we had Paulino, a guy who does work for Paula and Richard (the Windmill's owners), smash up the concrete on that side. The sidewalk's community property, sure, but the part of it that touched our house was on our land. So now that things are smashed up, he's going to build a nice, straight, new sidewalk along the property line, where it should be. With that extra space, we are going to put bushes in to form a border between what's public and what's private-- maybe something prickly, so as to discourage our kids from escaping out their windows in their teenage years...</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6w8_194ilPI9fGiOVKOLKN6SMdLInsl6posAW1qy2q2WGDkxOv3E1SsH3hSJbl1k3R0QEEvqPNuhMzvQ_MmYyA6OR8I1oiUOtMSS9O1kf75taoyVwzcX_EA8ZmltTho012URx8i0vLIM/s1600/130615+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6w8_194ilPI9fGiOVKOLKN6SMdLInsl6posAW1qy2q2WGDkxOv3E1SsH3hSJbl1k3R0QEEvqPNuhMzvQ_MmYyA6OR8I1oiUOtMSS9O1kf75taoyVwzcX_EA8ZmltTho012URx8i0vLIM/s400/130615+(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All this blacktop was removed from the yard before we woke up today.<br />
Amazing what can happen when people actually want your business.</td></tr>
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Second, parts of our postage-stamp front yard are covered by multiple layers of blacktop. When you look at old pictures of this place, one of the things that stands out is the constantly evolving shape of the front yard; sometimes it's straight across, sometimes jagged, sometimes rounded. Currently, the yard is bounded by a curved curb. However, inside that curb is a layer (or more, in places) of blacktop that impedes any sort of attempts anyone might have to actually grow anything. Paulino pulled it all up Saturday morning and hauled it away before we woke up this morning. Excellent! (And just in time for Mark to come and dig it all back up... wonder how long it would have taken him to get around to pulling it up, had we asked?) Finally-- and this is something I'm a bit wary of actually letting Mark know-- Paulino is going to pour a concrete pad underneath our AC unit on the side of the house. Currently, there's a specially-made pad on top of concrete blocks-- I kid you not-- for the condenser. (That's what the outside part's called, right?) Paulino's going to make it so the unit doesn't fall down the slope during a hard rain, basically, which is something Abby and my dad helped forestall by putting in the longer drain hoses a few weeks ago. All in all, I bet he'll be done before midweek. And all this after two consecutive days of frustrating tries at meeting up-- first, I told him we lived next-door to Paula and Richard, not remembering they had another house; next, I told him Abby would be home, but told Abby I'd call her when he replied, and forgot to. No worries-- he showed up unannounced on Friday and all was set. On Saturday, the sound of him working on the concrete outside our window woke us up. At 7:00. On a Saturday morning.</div>
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This morning was Father's Day, and we had planned to get up early enough to make pecan pancakes and leave by 10 to make it out to my sister's place in Gainesville, where we'd spend the day with my parents at my sister's pool. At about 8:00, I was aware Abby was not in bed, but rather with the kids outside doing something. Unconcerned, I went back to sleep. About 90 minutes later, I woke up, scrambled to take a shower, and found the three of them cleaning out our disgusting car as part of my Father's Day present. So, pancakes were out, but so was the smell of spilled chocolate milk in the backseat. I started to get bathing suits together and headed out to see what they were doing when I saw a family walking around the Windmill, heading toward the Colonial. Wait-- they didn't look like tourists. Could they be... I had to ask... Yes! They're the people who bought the Colonial-- the yellow house two over that was Abby's favorite, and that had fallen through so many times right before it was sold. Eric and Christina (sp?) are native Marylanders who live with their two kids (Ryan is only three months older than Isaac and in the same grade!!) in Fort Lauderdale. He's an attorney/developer, and they're considering making this their permanent residence. Eric had bought the place without showing the kids, so now that Florida's schools are out, that's what they were doing. Immediately, I volunteered my kids to show them the "Magic Trail" that starts under their house and leads to the Castle. We all went along, barefoot, listened to their plans for the place, and commiserated with them about the approvals process. (Hopefully we didn't scare them away...) Regardless, not only is the house now truly owned by someone, but it's owned by someone who seems to a) know what they're doing, b) understand what needs to happen, and c) HAS KIDS ABOUT THE SAME AGE AS OURS. Not that I'm excited about that potential or anything... Funny thing is that my kids are so unused to having neighbors that are their age-- seeing as they've never had any-- that we had to actually explain what we meant by going next door to ring the bell and see if they were home. "No, really, you can go over and see if your friend wants to play, without setting a play date. No, really."</div>
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So there you have it: what I hope is read as a not-entirely-negative post. (I think my sister may think we're suicidal based on some of my previous rants...) Now, we just have to see if tomorrow really pans out as a cure-all with the contractor, and how deep we actually have to dig (in our yard and in our pockets) to get that damn Certificate of Occupancy. And it's all based on the ten-day-old failed inspection and that (hopefully) lucky number 13.</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-40508985640142416172013-06-06T20:48:00.002-04:002013-06-06T20:49:03.158-04:00"Biblical Failure," or, "What is a Nick Nack?"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>"There is nothing new under the sun." </i>--Ecclesiastes 1:4-11*</blockquote>
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<i>"This is the song that doesn't end / Yes, it goes on and on my friend" </i>--Lamb Chop</blockquote>
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<i>"I knew we were gonna fail."</i> --Abby Wahl</blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Every Wednesday for two school years, I've been lucky enough to be able to take a half-day off from work in order to pick my kids up from their school, with its wacky Wednesday-half-day policy. We try to do fun things, like going to a museum or the planetarium or something, but often end up just going to the playground and/or the library, which is what we did this week. It started not only as a continuation of our set-up at Isaac's pre-school co-op, where one of us had to go in once a week and the other had to watch the baby, but as a good way for me to use my excess comp time and give Abby a half-day of non-parental adulthood. But lately, she's been joining us, whether on playground or museum jaunts, or at the house to meet with contractors, inspectors, or anyone else who needs the focus of both of us during working hours. at those times, the kids have occasionally gotten pushed to the back, either having to endure hours of cross-town driving, boring materials showrooms where a single executive putt-putt hole was the only distraction, or being shushed while they play pool or foosball in the community room.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Yesterday's plan was to keep the kids out of Abby's hair as much as possible, so we did the playground across the street from their school, spent an hour or so at the Mount Pleasant library, and went to Target to buy air freshener for our stinky car, before finally heading home at five. When we got home, Abby was in her painting clothes, having finished about a third of the first coat of Poppyseed paint on the trim in our family room. All around her, there were piles of boxes, displaced furniture, and empty cabinetry-- but not because she had carefully removed things from their place to make sure nothing got splattered. No, it was because she had spent the entire day packing up the house, so that when the inspector came today, he wouldn't see signs that we have effectively been squatting there for the last seven weeks. Her work took much of the day, and we continued with last-minute touches this morning, bagging all the contents of our freezer and fridge to stash temporarily across the street in the community room's fridge, taking sheets off our beds and leaning the mattresses up against the walls, emptying the dryer of clean clothes and packing our clothes away in the boxes they had come in back in April.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I left the house a bit late, due to all this re-packing, telling Abby that at least once we re-unpacked, we could get rid of the boxes once and for all, we could hang things on walls once and for all, we could cross "inspections" off our need-to-do list once and for all. Then, just before lunchtime, I get the following email:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><i>"Gregory, the inspection failed. It's just a few nick nack items and one major item. The major item is the inspector couldn't find a sign off for the retaining wall, so we both are researching now to get to the bottom of this"literally"."</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I had been waiting for his email all morning, having asked him to email me rather than texting, since I can't read texts at work. So when I saw his name in my inbox, I got excited momentarily. You know, like how you feel in the third quarter of a Bills game versus the Patriots. Just as fast as the adrenaline came, it left when I read the opening line. You know, like how you feel in the fourth quarter of a Bills game versus the Patriots.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Immediate questions: whose responsibility is it to have that sign-off handy? What are "nick nack items," and how many is "a few?" When will this stuff be found and fixed? How much will Abby hate me for telling her the news? Will we have to re-unpack, then re-repack, then, OMG, re-re-unpack?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So that's where we stand. Limbo. Abby was nonplussed when I told her this afternoon, giving me her quote at top in a resigned monotone. We'll bring all the food back into the kitchen, put the clothes back into the closets, arrange the toiletries and toys back into the vanities and shelves, redistribute the furniture to its proper place, reconnect the satellite and modem. Then we'll wait until we have to undo, then redo, it all over again.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">*Those of you who know me personally may find it strange that I open this blog post quoting scripture. Be assured I had no idea of its biblical origin. The Shakespearean origin I had assumed was actually just a paraphrase. Thank you, Google.</span></div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-21626497251027276372013-06-04T22:47:00.000-04:002013-06-04T22:47:16.502-04:00Penultimate Passage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I won't beat around the bush, because I'm sure you all want to know: Yes, we have passed our plumbing inspection! Weeks after the plumbing was "done," and at least a double-digit number of days since it was actually completed, we finally got us a sticker. Despite having an inspection scheduled for last week (supposedly), it took until yesterday</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to do it, since we had to secure an inspection on the fireplace beforehand. Wish we had known that sooner, because last week, while thinking "hell, we might as well get some stuff done on our own," we called our trusted fireplace people and had them cap our flue and do some pointing. So of course, as soon as I pay them, I hear we need to find a chimney guy. "Nope, we're calling my guys and that's it." Within 48 hours, we had our certificate. (Granted, the inspector had a whale of a time trying to discern what the paper actually said, because of poor penmanship, but hey, maybe the guy was Dr. Chimney, thank you very much.)</span></div>
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But it's not just a piece of paper that we've scored since I last wrote. Our two straggler windows were finally delivered from the custom shop in Baltimore and installed; the one in the balcony doesn't make that big of an impact, but the one in the dining room is amazing, because it was the one window we never actually saw light through-- it had been boarded up since the first time we saw the house 28 months ago. Now? I sit at my dining-room table and am actually a bit distracted by seeing the top of the windmill on the right side of my peripheral vision. It's a distraction about which I will never complain.</div>
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Speaking of the dining room, we finally got our chairs. Or rather, we finally ordered our chairs, and they were delivered crazy-fast. We had been holding off until most of the construction was finished, and once we reached the point where we needed to self-propel, they were an obvious choice. We got six, and plan to get two more, either matching or complementary. They're uber-modern, metal chairs-- three with white coating and three copper. They look really great with the striated table from my grandma. They arrived in pieces, and we had to put them together; IKEA definitely didn't write these directions! After wrestling with the first chair, I got an expletive-laden voice-mail message from Abby about the experience, but by the time numbers five and six were constructed while I watched House Hunters <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_502142327" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">Sunday</span></span> night, they took about five minutes apiece. For metal chairs, they're really comfortable, although I did have a bit of an accident while constructing #4, and have a gash on my right wrist to prove it.</div>
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Also completed recently is the switch of our hot and cold controls on the kitchen sink, as well as the installation of the dishwasher. No more washing dishes in the bathroom, and the machine is really, really quiet, which is great. So quiet, actually, that it's already been opened twice mistakenly during the rinse cycle. Gonna have to learn how to lock it! Although it is working, it's not anchored to the cabinets, so when you empty the contents it lurches forward just enough to make you think that this is the time it'll fall completely out, just like my recurring dreams as a kid of that strong wind knocking my house over to the extent that the mailbox post across the street would come through my window. Yeah, not gonna happen, but not taking any chances. The fridge also leans too far forward, and the freezer opens every time you close the fridge door. But it's wedged so tightly in the cabinets that I can't pull it out to adjust the tilt. Gonna have to wait for the cabinet guys to finish up to see if they can do it for us.</div>
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Ahh, the cabinets. Still unfinished, but supposedly the last door is going to be delivered to Home Depot tomorrow. Once it's in, they'll come out, switch out that glass door for the solid wood one they mistakenly installed in April, and do a couple other tweaks--like anchoring the dishwasher. Also hoping they'll install all of our handles and drawer pulls, despite us having purchased them online rather than from Home Depot. Abby's not so sure they will, but I have faith.</div>
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We've done a lot of buying lately, but the fun kind of buying: home furnishings, rather than home improvement. There were the aforementioned dining-room chairs, which are BluDot Real Good Chairs from Fab.com. Then there's the computer desk we got on clearance from West Elm. And the painting we bought from an alternative art shop in Old Town Winchester during our anniversary weekend-- I haggled them from $150 to $100, so I feel productive on that one. There's the mailbox we found on eBay and bought, only to have the letter carrier say we should really have one on the curb instead of the house, so we just put it on the porch for the time being, but today we found it to have been installed by our contractor on the wall.</div>
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On the flip side, there's the storage-room door we swear we bought but is nowhere to be found, so we had to reorder it from Home Depot and it's due in later this week. And of course the bathroom hardware for the upstairs bathroom that we found online and had shipped to us, only for Abby to decide she doesn't like it; it's already on its way back. Oh, and the still-nonexistent upstairs-shower door that we had measured last month, received the quote for yesterday, and think we can do better on. So obviously, WE still have some work to do; the ball's not entirely in the contractor's court.</div>
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But for now, our next big date is Thursday; that's when we have our big, final inspection. Pass that, and we get our Certificate of Occupancy. In other words, we won't be squatters here anymore. We refinanced a few weeks back-- had our mortgage payment cut by more than a thousand bucks a month, which is like getting a KILLER raise-- and I had been worried that we'd need the Certificate of Occupancy in order to finalize the closing. I don't know why, other than my mortgage company told me I would. But here I am, with a new mortgage and my old one so officially closed that my website login has been disabled. So all the inspection will mean to us is that Maryland blesses the work that's been done. But we also have to pretend we're not living here for that to happen. And by pretend, I mean pack up a bunch of our stuff and seriously pretend we're not living here. Seriously. So tomorrow, on what would normally be a fun half-day at work picking up the kids from their half-day, it'll be more about making sure the kids are happy and occupied while Abby and I repack the most important things we have here, into the boxes that have been sitting in the living room for a month awaiting this day. Our clothes will go back into bags, our food... um... maybe into the community room fridge for a few hours? (Luckily, I haven't been grocery shopping in a week and we're running low on basically everything.) But hopefully, come Thursday night, we can forget about permits forever, and start focusing on the end goal: living here, with no more work to be done by the contractors, and beginning our quest for landscaping and that big Maryland Historical Trust payoff. </div>
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In the meantime, though, off to repack our house. </div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-11526159372781360092013-05-20T21:17:00.002-04:002013-05-20T21:17:32.798-04:00DIY Because They Certainly Won't<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our newly-painted stair risers</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Last Monday, I wrote to our contractor, asking when four specific items would be completed. He picked one-- sanding and painting the risers on the stairway-- and said that'd actually been planned to be done the next day. (What a coincidence!) It was, but here we are a week later and nothing else has been done--on the list or otherwise. By Wednesday, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">we knew we'd be in this situation, so we started brainstorming everything that was left. Lots of little things, for sure, but "lots" is the important word here, not "little!"</span></div>
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One of those things was an issue with the fireplace. (We did the gas fireplace ourselves, and just had his guys install it.) There is no way to close the flue to the fireplace, which means when we turn it on, we lose almost all of the heat up the chimney. Granted, we're more worried about getting rid of heat right now, but hey, I'm nothing if not a box checker. The good thing about this whole situation is that, of all the contractors we have worked with in both house projects, there is one who has come through on multiple occasions with flying colors: American Professional Chimney Services. I would recommend these guys without reservation. In fact, I called them for an estimate, didn't even bother calling around, just hired them to do the work, and expect that they'll be done before I get home from work tomorrow. <span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> By the end of the week, we'll have all the pointing done, the flue will be capped, we'll have paid the bill, and we won't have to think about our chimney again for a long time. Over the weekend, Abby and I thought maybe we could incorporate a whole-house fan into the project, and the owner actually emailed back and forth with me several times (on a weekend evening!) to discuss the issue. Ultimately, we just went with the original plan, but why the heck can't all of this job be this way?</span></div>
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They say if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Or, at least micromanagers say that. But when my parents asked us what we would have done differently with this project, my answer in all seriousness was that we should have hired Abby as our general contractor. Sure, we tried to do that with the first house, but that was also while we were both working, and eventually, while she was pregnant with and then nursing Isaac. This time? She's not planning to go back to work until the fall, the kids are in school, and she did so much anyhow; it just seems like such a waste to have gone the route we did.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of six Hostas, originally from Tonawanda, via<br />Grand Island and Petworth.</td></tr>
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But at this point, I'm not whining. I'm happy living in the house-- even if we're still technically squatters. And it's not just because it's not the basement, although that's definitely part of it! It's nice to be able to get home from work, do normal family stuff, then maybe do something on the house after the kids go to bed. Last week I spent a half-hour hanging hooks in my closet. Tiny stuff for sure, but now my belts and backpack and shirts in need of laundering are up off the floor, and the closet can actually look clean. This weekend we were able to make IKEA runs to pick up some As-Is cabinetry Abby found (that is identical to the stuff we already had, but already put together and 30% off) while the kids took naps. I was able to go to the old house and dig up a couple of my Buffalo Hostas, then transplant them into the front yard, while Abby was in the shower. Heck: we can grill out now that we've replaced our sad old wedding-gift grill with a snazzy new one, just a couple weeks shy of our tenth wedding anniversary. If you want to get something done, just do it yourself, right?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad helped me move the<br />perfectly-sized extra cabinet<br />into the laundry room yesterday.</td></tr>
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But we can't do everything. We were able to keep a couple of the cabinets Home Depot brought that had been mismeasured, and put them downstairs: one fits perfectly in the laundry room with not even an inch to spare, (thanks Dad!) while the other will serve as our coat closet in the mudroom. But we had to wait an agonizing two weeks for a plumbing inspection; the inspector's coming "Wednesday or Thursday," but the hot and cold are still reversed on the kitchen faucet, Abby says the spigot on the yard side of the house is leaking, and there's still the possible issue of the pipe behind the laundry room that my dad strenuously objects to due to the fact that it may overflow and spread poop all over the area under the stairs. The inspection for the Certificate of Occupancy can come only when the plumbing's been certified, and our refinance, which is set for Thursday night<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">, can only be finalized once our current bank sees the occupancy permit. Dominoes have to fall, and we're not in charge of finger-flicking; no matter how hard we try, they're not being blown over with our breath alone.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ammfVr7jGkmKBZk9x7ynKwtNkBzBgU-_0cUZBYl8ykcoXrtwppxAmQlLo18rU1GAEOHIHU-9ONkCOPj8gYUpfj2A4KddzNU0UZF5G03OTH7GhNqmGtbXIM1wqVltsyeK-nHQWrmYoeU/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ammfVr7jGkmKBZk9x7ynKwtNkBzBgU-_0cUZBYl8ykcoXrtwppxAmQlLo18rU1GAEOHIHU-9ONkCOPj8gYUpfj2A4KddzNU0UZF5G03OTH7GhNqmGtbXIM1wqVltsyeK-nHQWrmYoeU/s400/008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new doorbell</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So where we stand is in the middle of a construction-zone-that-isn't. It is a construction zone, because, you know, the thing's not finished. It looks like a construction zone, because we have piles of boxes and cardboard on the floors, just in case we need to make like we're not actually living in it for the sake of the occupancy permit. It feels like a construction zone because on the way back from taking a shower in the gorgeous bathroom, your feet get gritty from stepping on dust left by prior projects on those cardboard panels, and your family and friends are constantly referencing the fact that you live in an unfinished project. But it isn't a construction zone because, well, no construction is actually going on. Little projects, sure. But nothing ongoing, and nothing integral. In the spirit of DIY, I guess the next thing we've gotta do is have the kids drywall the rest of the storage room. But in the meantime, Abby and I will be enjoying the burgers I just made on our grill, eating under the new dining-room chandelier that we commissioned, and watching So You Think You Can Dance on the DirecTV we ordered. Oh, and stuffing food down the disposal we think we're gonna keep (thanks to commentary on my last post), because that's just a crazy novelty at this point...</div>
</span></div>
Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-65974435173640184872013-05-09T10:09:00.002-04:002013-05-09T10:09:48.977-04:00On the Line<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A few of things were supposed to happen on Tuesday, and an
hour into my phone call with DirecTV Tech Support, it appeared that not only
would we fail on all counts, but we may have to begin the search for Internet
providers -- if not television as well -- all over again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The issue with DirecTV was not that the satellite wasn't
working. On the contrary, we had watched TV for a couple of nights in a row,
and except for the temporary appearance of rainbow-colored vertical bars on the
screen on Monday, everything was good. Everything, that is, except our On
Demand feature. Granted, this isn't a huge deal, but what it meant was that the
satellite was not hooking up to the Internet, where all the On Demand content
is stored. It would mean that we'd have access to current programming, but not
to anything in the past, unless we DVR'd it. We'd also have no access to the
"10,000 movies and TV shows" they say we have, which is a major part
of the subscription cost, I would guess.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
As the hour-long call progressed, I became more and more
nervous about having to scrap our Clear Internet and go webless for a while
longer, until the cable companies got their act together and ran a wire under
our street. That's because this weekend, two different DirecTV reps told me the
two systems were incompatible. Of course, I didn't believe them-- not because
I'm some electronics expert (ha!) but rather because a) Clear assured me I
could get between 3-6 mbps for downloads, and DirecTV only required 2 mbps; and
b) the Clear sales department directed me to DirecTV-- I used the same phone
call to order both!-- so how the heck could they be incompatible? But now, faced with a 15-day Clear trial
period already half over, and a 2-year contract for DirecTV that has $20/month
cancellation penalties, I was thinking I'd have to send back the system and not
only have to deal with a cable company for Internet service, but at an
exorbitant rate, due to us not actually getting cable from them. So as the
1:00:00 mark hit on my phone call, things were not looking good. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Earlier in the day, I had been on the receiving end of a
sorry-'bout-that message, as Rory wrote to tell me the plumber couldn't come
until Thursday. We have been waiting for him to come hook up the kitchen
plumbing for a week now, since not only does it mean we can apply for a
certificate of occupancy (and finally finalize our refinance), but also that we
could put an end to microwaving water for tea, waiting for ice cubes, smelling
a weird NYC-subway-like stench in the storage room caused by an incorrectly-sized
waste pipe, and (most importantly) having to wash our dishes in the bathroom
sink. Seriously, things like excess milk and chicken soup don't look very nice
poured in your toilet-- trust me. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbGhYkMTKYhfnAfmMZpAcSQY5PAEnoUv8g8zPYSdSacDTfvar0HgjxTrs5Ud8QFNy0KqhvLP1XRUza2l8lqi9QZiNg-bYX8A9OYuk32hB1d9yoe3ssFR30TKQ9-zSueLUSsDMyKUKSO0/s1600/IMG-20130506-01309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbGhYkMTKYhfnAfmMZpAcSQY5PAEnoUv8g8zPYSdSacDTfvar0HgjxTrs5Ud8QFNy0KqhvLP1XRUza2l8lqi9QZiNg-bYX8A9OYuk32hB1d9yoe3ssFR30TKQ9-zSueLUSsDMyKUKSO0/s320/IMG-20130506-01309.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">We're also waiting for the last piece of our dining-room
chandelier: the lighting. Well, half of the lighting, to be exact. James, a
local artist from our old neighborhood, created a larger version of an
Anthropologie light fixture Abby really liked. It's installed now, after a
process that freaked Abby out, since it involved him standing on the top rung
of our step ladder, itself atop a six-foot scaffold on the dining-room side of
the great room, with Abby holding things steady as James reached to place the
electric box at the apex of the cathedral ceiling. But the install looks great;
you don't notice the box at all, silver on the white ceiling, and hidden behind
one of the rafters. (That's more than I can say for the smoke detector
mid-room, which is still hooked onto the dark rafter like a big blob of marshmallow
fluff on a Twix bar.) The unfinished part of the chandelier is that, as we
plugged the bulbs in-- Edison bulbs, so as to make sure we pad the Pepco CEO's
annual bonus more effectively-- we noticed only four of the eight sockets
worked. James seemed unaffected, announcing he knew what the problem was, and
that he'd fix it when he came back later in the week to adjust the height of
the fixture. I'm still not a fawning fan of the thing, but I think it'll grow
on me, and it's definitely a plus to have adequate lighting during dinner.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMQUq-E6Aj7R1afjqsB2u62QUqZqSeMZZZ1Vs-JbFfWosu2BZveGmuw8LU42ZlrebLeo5Bv3qHVGcDQrYXF5DXMN8TXjTc5fc3NZvvnf4Und-Aya4bgjUxeJgjOIebpOdegbdfE8CluI/s1600/IMG-20130506-01310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMQUq-E6Aj7R1afjqsB2u62QUqZqSeMZZZ1Vs-JbFfWosu2BZveGmuw8LU42ZlrebLeo5Bv3qHVGcDQrYXF5DXMN8TXjTc5fc3NZvvnf4Und-Aya4bgjUxeJgjOIebpOdegbdfE8CluI/s320/IMG-20130506-01310.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We did have some things completed this week. On Monday
morning, we had our first trash pick-up, following the end of our annoying
"please recognize us as an address, since we pay taxes and stuff"
issue with the county. We have two different recycling bins, which means that we
have to separate paper and cardboard from bottles and cans. And what's really
weird is that we're responsible for providing our own trash bin, as opposed to
the Supercans provided by DC to residents there. We also have to urge the
mailman to start delivering mail to us, since everything's still being dropped
off at the property manager's office even though we have our address on the
wall now. Granted, we have no mailbox as of yet, but we have a doormat; just
put it under that! It's a pain because
the office is only open during business hours, and as mail isn't exactly a
priority for me dear wife, we can go a week without retrieving it. (Love ya,
babe.) </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEA-iE7rUqCIhTmBZ21JexKefjKk0WhTx_An2_R5KCUj_JRu-inbMRoEf40P_pCTaNGk7rl69W0nMW3she5w5H5gV5P7W4d66-GgeL6vUHJmI5emH7IHWHlYP8x4nGfW8brfLapU5uskk/s1600/IMG-20130506-01311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEA-iE7rUqCIhTmBZ21JexKefjKk0WhTx_An2_R5KCUj_JRu-inbMRoEf40P_pCTaNGk7rl69W0nMW3she5w5H5gV5P7W4d66-GgeL6vUHJmI5emH7IHWHlYP8x4nGfW8brfLapU5uskk/s400/IMG-20130506-01311.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pay no attention to the non-working bulb to Abby's right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We also found out that our assessment of the plumbing
situation wasn’t entirely correct—in both good and annoying ways. The good way was that it turned out that our
fridge actually had been hooked up, and the ice is now being made. (C’mon, that’s the one bit of progress? I’ll
trade you for a dishwasher!) When the plumber stopped by momentarily this week,
he apparently was able to do that, as well as to affix the faucet to the
countertop—albeit with no actual plumbing hookup underneath the counter. He said that the subway smell was probably
not going to happen anymore, since the washing machine was now working and
there was enough water in the pipes to keep burps from the sewer down where
they belong—although I don’t know whether I should buy that explanation. But he also said they’re going to have to
install a garbage disposal in our sink.
A disposal had kept showing up very early in the planning process, and
we kept telling them that we didn’t want one.
But time and again, there it was on the planning documents. Well, I guess one of the documents it was on
was the plumbing permits, and without an install, we won’t pass the inspection. So they had to install an accompanying switch
on the backsplash to go with it. My
guess is that I’ll be charged for both of these things—whether on a line item
or, more likely, buried in other costs—when I explicitly said on multiple occasions
that we didn’t want a disposal. I’m
guessing it’ll be taken out after the inspection—again at my expense?—and I
have no idea whether our access to the hot-water tap will suffer during that
time, but I’m going to guess so.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Which leads me back to the beginning of the second hour on
the phone with DirecTV. Things aren’t
looking good. The lack of 50% of my
chandelier, and the lack of progress on my plumbing was wearing on my mind, and
I was looking for a way—any way!—to just end the call without pissing the guy
off for having wasted an hour of his time.
Abby walks into the room, having spent the last hour (or so it seemed)
in the shower, and plops down in front of the computer. She announces that the Internet’s not working. Wait, it was working at the beginning of my
phone call. I tell Mr. DirecTV, and we’re
puzzled. I say, “wait: would that switch
we threw a half-hour back have changed that?”
Maybe. I go over, throw the
switch, and the web comes back online. And, an hour and three minutes into my
call, all of a sudden a message shows up on the TV screen: “Congratulations? Your DirecTV system has been connected to the
Internet!” Bells ring, angels sing, babies
coo. Happily, I take the piping hot
receiver away from my ear, and sit down to watch our On Demand. Hey—we ain’t got a kitchen sink, but we can
watch Tosh.0, and that’s really all that matters, right?</div>
<br />
</div>
Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-82979057145728202302013-05-02T23:08:00.003-04:002013-05-02T23:08:54.055-04:00An End to Fancy Camping?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we first moved into our house in the District, Abby and I joked that we were "fancy camping," what with our one working electric outlet and our daily trek to the basement to use the shower, and our lack of central heating. More than eight years later, we have found ourselves "fancy camping" once more. Only this time, the hardships are the lack of television, Internet, and a kitchen sink. Lo and behold: this week.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Up until Monday, I had been holding out hope that some cable company would come to our rescue. You see, our neighbors all have cable. That's because, well, they live in 2013. Unfortunately, Dewitt Drive separates the historic from the pre-historic. That's because while 9615 Dewitt Drive, across the street, has their choice of Comcast or Verizon, 9618 Dewitt Drive, us, is left in the dark ages. No wires cross the street, aboveground or underground. And although a conduit runs from approximately 250 feet up the street over to a location near our parking spots, it is empty. Just like when we found out last year that our house was "eligible" to have public water supply access, but didn't actually have a connection, we found out this weekend that we are "close" to having cable companies accept our money in their exorbitant pricing schemes, but no proverbial cigar is anywhere to be found. So on Monday night, after a fruitless meeting with Comcast, I officially gave up on cable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Therefore, enlightenment. Yesterday we got a FedEx package in the mail with our new Clear Internet equipment in it. Clear is a provider that gives you Internet from cell towers, and doesn't require any wiring at all. We unpacked the box, plugged in the receiver, scratched our heads for a moment while our computer told us we weren't installing something correctly, then noticed the web was already working in the background. Yep, not even one button to press: Internet. As a gift to ourselves, after we put the kids to bed, we officially sat down on the couch for the first time in the new house and watched an episode of our favorite British TV Game show, Q.I., off of YouTube. And there was much rejoicing. (For those of you who are interested, Clear is $50/month, and you can even take it with you when you travel. You basically make yourself into a wi-fi hotspot for up to ten devices, which is great because we have a lot of things that want to hook themselves to the Internet, like our thermostat and likely the security system we haven't gotten yet. Another thing that wants to hook to the Internet is...)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Television! Today: Dish Network. Nope, sorry, DirecTV. (I always get them mixed up; it's the "D.") After I called Clear on Monday night, I called DirecTV and scheduled an install. They assured me that, despite our weird angles and the fact that the main NPS building overshadows the house, we'd be able to get perfectly good coverage. Last week in Buffalo, when I realized satellite service may be in my future, I talked with my cousin Jenny about it, and she assured me that she had never lost coverage before-- and she lives n Buffalo, where there's this thing called "weather." So we asked DirecTV to come out today, and of course Abby has a migraine. But she was a trooper, because she knew it meant television was en route. We had wanted the installer to put the dish on the side roof, above the first-floor bathroom, because it would be out of the way, but it needs to face in a southwesterly direction, and the house would block it there. So the main roof was the only option, but as with everything here, there are considerations. So I called the property management company and asked them what their satellite dish policy was. Kwame, the property manager, told me there's actually an FCC regulation prohibiting prohibitions on satellite dishes, but that we should put it in the least conspicuous place possible, and not on community property. Bonnie, from Save Our Seminary, said she didn't know of anyone else who had a dish on the property, but she also didn't know of anyone whose request for one had been denied; she also quoted the FCC regulation. So we are now the proud owner of a satellite dish, located at the far eastern corner of the roof, where it can't be seen at all from the front of the house, and where it's partially obscured by the 100-year-old yews in the yard. And I've already set the DVR to record Parks & Recreation. Again, about $50/month, so $100 for cable and Internet, which would have been $139 with Comcast... whenever they decided to lay the lines.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNdzekQ2zm95cpxr7wOMmVSghl2ilrS98mw71IMHRYTvRo15PIwKlr5BMaNddFsuo34TctAcYpGOT2UmBkMjRpsEWbfiWsVs8BJUTGpFZ90OlIdVhaoB6_7Ld3glVcL-Sd5-5OFShY6I/s1600/130502+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNdzekQ2zm95cpxr7wOMmVSghl2ilrS98mw71IMHRYTvRo15PIwKlr5BMaNddFsuo34TctAcYpGOT2UmBkMjRpsEWbfiWsVs8BJUTGpFZ90OlIdVhaoB6_7Ld3glVcL-Sd5-5OFShY6I/s320/130502+(3).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new faucet. All that's missing is water.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The entertainment hole has been filled now, but there are a few other holes that have been missing. Namely, when our counters were set a few weeks ago, some holes were left undrilled. The countertop guys came out for the install and asked Abby for the faucet we'd be using in the kitchen, so she handed them the box. Only more than a week later, when we took the faucet out of the box, did we realize that, um, the faucet had never been taken out of the box. Only one hole had been drilled, and it was a three-hole faucet. I called the countertop people and got a definite attitude from the manager. So I made Abby call back, because no one dislikes Abby. And what do you know: we now have the proper number of holes drilled for our faucet, and should have a completely functioning suite of water-using fixtures in our kitchen by early next week. And not a moment too soon, either, because washing dishes in a bathroom sink is truly disgusting. I don't know why that is, actually, because it's not even like we're using the upstairs bathroom much, since the door to it only went in this week, and the shower's still doorless. It's just that when you're cleaning out a pot that has cheese and tomato sauce stuck inside of it, and it's all going down the drain in your brand-new ultra-modern sink, it doesn't sit right. One thing I'm sure of: we'll make very, very good use of the dishwasher once it's hooked in.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaQ0qf6TdJQvBCB4sn9kh3hNRPejoRIVD_IaYeNa_NNo4_7oTC7X-Q32Ueq-zZT6Nj67-Klie6L9-WUsF1LDK8uVAVoU3Vte6ZjZobsMV0xpxHVoT0HQbjbQuvwX34LNNP8-LTkihFaU/s1600/130409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaQ0qf6TdJQvBCB4sn9kh3hNRPejoRIVD_IaYeNa_NNo4_7oTC7X-Q32Ueq-zZT6Nj67-Klie6L9-WUsF1LDK8uVAVoU3Vte6ZjZobsMV0xpxHVoT0HQbjbQuvwX34LNNP8-LTkihFaU/s320/130409.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dishwasher, pre-spacers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The dishwasher, by the way, does not need to be replaced. Phew! We had thought there was an issue because of the large gaps separating the dishwasher from both the cabinets on either side of it and the counter on top. But when the guys came back to finish cabinet installation, fillers magically appeared on the sides. Granted, the cabinet installation is still not completed, not the least of which is because the gap between the dishwasher and the countertop remains, but at least we know we don't have to buy a new one. As for the cabinets, they're now all in. The problems are very minor now: one door is solid, but was ordered to be glass; the drawer pulls were not attached; and the space above the dishwasher needs to be filled. The fridge needs to be leveled, which is less the fault of the cabinet installers and more the fault of us having put the kitchen on a slanted surface (that used to be a porch). Also, having bought "supercabinets" for the corners, convinced the inserts would allow us to use more of the space in the corner cabinets to each side of the range, we realized very quickly that the supercabinet inserts actually preclude us from using the back third of each cabinet. We're going to try to return the inserts, but at the very least we'll be removing them from the cabinets and just using basic shelving. We'll totally deal with having to bend down and stretch to get the less frequently-used stuff hiding in the back if it means we're not wasting so much space in the first place. Oh, and our contractors have to raise the range hood, because they apparently think we're about three feet tall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-L0OzDC_37486aobBtXYGvHUyzLKmzaizE6bKEIERF-LHKUuqUFq4fEZxSQ4Efpri8NJoNMdyI45LEBKLQKPICzjJsJ6mG-sHIvcG7IpuJbrChwhwNfoZdNAE0sLoRABUPxsFTa_-CU/s1600/130502+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-L0OzDC_37486aobBtXYGvHUyzLKmzaizE6bKEIERF-LHKUuqUFq4fEZxSQ4Efpri8NJoNMdyI45LEBKLQKPICzjJsJ6mG-sHIvcG7IpuJbrChwhwNfoZdNAE0sLoRABUPxsFTa_-CU/s400/130502+(4).JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our kitchen as it stands today.<br />The cabinet to the right of the range hood should have a glass door,<br />and the range hood will be raised significantly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As for space, we are bouncing back and forth between thinking we have way too much or not enough. I think it's because as we put stuff away, we see the empty boxes and think, "wow, there's not much left to unpack!" Then we go to another room and realize, "wait, there are kitchen boxes stored in the library. Crap." And more boxes shift to the rapidly filling cabinets. I think in the end, we'll be just about right, with maybe a bit of extra room, but not too much.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyQdbZKl0QzdzwpMer7vTp38VEC1go8BsI4CYuWd2XINHNO-xBQy8eHQDyhmQ0Ou4NKoWmdQJL5kwc-dYkqFkxlC7rXQqsOk3QToA82t5w4aumRZFrSUjIQx_jEK_Oke2PDWXO1xspVw/s1600/130502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyQdbZKl0QzdzwpMer7vTp38VEC1go8BsI4CYuWd2XINHNO-xBQy8eHQDyhmQ0Ou4NKoWmdQJL5kwc-dYkqFkxlC7rXQqsOk3QToA82t5w4aumRZFrSUjIQx_jEK_Oke2PDWXO1xspVw/s320/130502.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My doorbell!<br />It goes "Brrrrrrring!</td></tr>
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As for other new stuff, we've now got all the doors installed. Except the one for the storage area, which we swear we ordered but is not here. So we'll have to buy another one. But there are no doors sitting around anymore, waiting to be installed. About half the trim is in, but none of it is painted. That is going to be a huge, immensely boring undertaking that I'm totally going to pawn off on Abby if I can help it! The misplaced door hardware has been corrected, and I realized the deadbolt on the back door was not done incorrectly-- it just works that way. It's a keypad doorlock, which is awesome because it means we don't have to give anyone a key if they want to come over when we're not here-- we just give them the code and they walk right in. I love it, because it's fantastic when you have your arms filled with groceries. And speaking of awesome: my doorbell has been installed! No one has rung it yet, though, because even though our house numbers have also gone up out front, still nobody can find our house. I constantly have delivery people wondering where we are. "I'm on a traffic circle, and all I see is a big building and a green house." Duh, look at the numbers on the wall, blind guy!</div>
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Our main goal now is unpacking. Because once we unpack, I really feel we can do landscaping, which I desperately want to do. Oh, and because it will then feel less like "fancy camping" and more like "living in a house you've owned for 23 months already." Abby and I had a bitch session while washing dishes in the bathroom last night, and went over all the reasons we were unhappy with the house. My unhappiness has already been expounded on in this forum, but is generally concerned with my not wanting to have had a "fancy camping" experience in this place. Hers, though, can be compared to watching that show on HGTV where they show people what their house would look like if it were rehabbed with an unlimited budget, but then they just go out and buy stuff from flea markets instead; yeah, it's way better than your old place, but you had so much more in your head. Once we're settled, I'm sure it'll keep getting closer to that picture in our heads. But for now, I'm looking forward to using the Internet, watching the television, and washing dishes in the kitchen. In other words, the end of "fancy camping" for good.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2xBxeenhj1E1smScAteFrX5Eg7of9sv5qG_225LNdV3j_VNcJKp0CxzF_-x40YK8G17wMT7o1WKCaeCQSTsZ-BFlnjVekItcOVD8jOD9JhEy0VYk_7qDpUBZGEazHrfpdb1o5MP-7Q8/s1600/130502+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2xBxeenhj1E1smScAteFrX5Eg7of9sv5qG_225LNdV3j_VNcJKp0CxzF_-x40YK8G17wMT7o1WKCaeCQSTsZ-BFlnjVekItcOVD8jOD9JhEy0VYk_7qDpUBZGEazHrfpdb1o5MP-7Q8/s400/130502+(2).JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The new up-lighting in our Great Room. Decidedly NOT fancy camping.<br /></td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-38179138999181499322013-04-23T22:43:00.001-04:002013-04-23T22:43:21.681-04:00Living in a Fish Bowl<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Not much has happened with the house since last I wrote, although a lot has happened in it. My parents spent the weekend-- our first guests! --and helped us put a whole bunch of stuff away, emptying a lot of boxes and creating actual open space in the great room, rather than the huge pile anchored by our two enormous armoires and covered with plastic sheeting. We put Lola's bed together, and decided to buy a new version from IKEA rather than putting together the identical one we bought from a couple off of Craigslist what seems like ages ago; it worked out, too, because my parents took the used one back to their place so the kids can use it when they sleep over. Slowly but surely, the place is becoming livable.</div>
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Living in the house is definitely going to be interesting. We have chosen to be in a fish bowl by buying the house that's pretty much at the center of the community-- and don't forget the 49 windows-- but at the same time, it'd be nice to, oh, I don't know, be able to change my pants in my own bedroom! For the first four workdays this week, I would go downstairs to take a shower in the morning (the upstairs shower is still doorless), then come back up and grab clothes from my closet, then head to the upstairs bathroom to change. One day I picked a shirt that was too wrinkled, so I came back into my bedroom only wearing pants, and a neighbor walked right by. I'm sure all she saw was me standing there with no shirt on, but I'm also pretty sure by the look on her face that she was pretty sure I was naked. Oh well-- that's what they get for letting exhibitionists into their fishbowl, right? (Um, right?) However, as of the weekend, all of that has changed, as we have had our cellular shades installed. We got the kind that can be pulled up or down, so we can still have daylight in, say, the top two windows without putting on a show for the neighborhood. The shades are in the three bedrooms, and should assuage my sister's fears of people watching the kids while they sleep. </div>
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The kids, by the way, are sleeping just fine. The first night they slept with each other in Isaac's room, but ever since they've used their own bed. Lola's tickled pink about her new bed, and I'm sure she'll be even more so once Abby gets her built-in completed. Isaac's still in his old bed, which will eventually be given over to the guest room once we get a new mattress and give him our current one, but his room's all decked out with the solar system on the ceiling, his toys already strewn all over the place, and his aquarium humming in the corner. Ah yes, the aquarium. Abby tried her darnedest to get that thing to stay in DC, but it's made its way over, which I'm happy about. Having had one all through growing up, I really liked staring at mine as I was falling asleep, and I know I was much healthier for having had a giant humidifier in the room. That said, we'll take much better care of it in the new place than we did in the basement; when I emptied the water there, it looked more like iced tea than something fish would want to live in. Driving the six miles with the aquarium in my passenger seat was a lesson in how smoothly I <i>don't</i> drive; even when I tried the most babyish of rolling stops and starts, the couple inches of water I had left in there (with all 30-some fish wondering what the heck was going on) sloshed in a great example of what a tsunami might look like if the earth was placed in a car and driven up 16th Street...</div>
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The commute's not nearly as bad as I feared, although it's much better in the morning than in the evening. In the morning, I'm getting up at 6 instead of 6:10, and I'm not making the kids' lunches-- at least not yet. If I get out the door before 6:45, I can catch a Montgomery County Ride On bus right outside, take that to Silver Spring Metro station, and I get to work in Rosslyn by 7:40. If I miss the bus, it's a one-mile walk to Forest Glen Metro station, which takes about 17 minutes. Of the seven morning commutes I've had so far, I've missed the bus twice, but only once have I gotten to work late, and even then by only about ten minutes. On the walk to Forest Glen, I see practically no one, which is weird. That's not the same on the way home, though. Twice I've been timing myself to see which way walking from Forest Glen is the fastest, and each time I've been thwarted by pesky neighbors wanting to --<i>gasp!-- </i>talk to me! Actually, it's great, because I'm making an effort to learn people's names, and there's no better way to do that than to actually meet them on a regular basis. I'll admit that after living in our house in DC, there was one household on our block that knew <u>everything</u> about us, but we knew the names of exactly two people in their large family. Yeah, after nearly a decade on the block. Now you can imagine how embarrassing this was for me, since I grew up as the paperboy who at least knew the name of the head of every household on my block. So this time around, I mean business, and started by going to the Homeowners' Association meeting on Thursday, and taking detailed notes not on the issues at hand (which are mostly about money), but about people's names and where they live.</div>
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So Susan and Ron, who moved here from Pennsylvania, I was very happy to talk to you two on the way home from work the other day. And Amy, who just had a baby with her husband Tony, I'm sorry if I freaked you out by knowing your name (and saying it) twice as I walked by over the last couple of days. And Bobby, who works as a wine specialist at Dean + Deluca, I hope you did well on your test, and will refer you to the winos that are my mother-in-law and her husband when they come by this weekend; and I'm definitely intrigued by your wife, because I can honestly say I've never met a woman named Lady Stacey. And Paula and Richard and Peg with the Easter egg tree and Minh and Janice from Australia and Miss Sally and her daughter Shelly and Jim and Susan and Carol and Lou (whose dogs are Diva and Pierre) and Brian and Laura (hey! I know two Brian-and-Lauras now!) and... well... you get the picture. We may live in a fishbowl, but those things are made of glass and the fish can see out just as well as we see inside. Abby and I want to live here for a long time, so it makes no sense not to know our neighbors. So, neighbors? Please don't get freaked out when I call you by name, because if I don't do it now, it'll be 2023 and I'll be asking my kids to find out the names of the people we've known since before we moved in.</div>
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So moving back inside the house, I guess there have been some small things going on. All four new windows are supposedly in now. One has been installed-- in the kitchen-- which is good, since any time the wind blew, the insulation that was there made a crinkly sound that reverberated throughout the whole level. I see one other one ready to go in up on the balcony, but have no idea where the others are. The cabinets are not complete yet, but the last one has <u>finally</u> been delivered, so we are in the process of scheduling the final install. Once that's done, they'll take back all the mistake cabinets, which will free up another huge corner of the great room. The countertop is done, except we realized we needed them to drill four holes instead of two, based on our choice of faucets. So I emailed them last night and am still waiting for a response. As a result, the kitchen sink is still out of commission, so tonight I had to wash the dishes in the bathroom. It's gross to wash the dishes in the bathroom, but it's also very nerve-wracking to have to do it on a brand-new porcelain sink that is ridiculously shallow. I was treating each dish as if it were bone china, not because of the preciousness of the dish, but because I didn't want the sink to get another chip. Yeah, I said "another;" no idea how/when/why, but there's a tiny chip right on the inside corner of our upstairs vanity. Already. I guess it just follows us, since there's one in our upstairs sink from DC that's been there ever since I mistakenly dropped one of Abby's mysterious glass bottles from the medicine cabinet way back when. (Who'd'a thunk that the porcelain would break and the glass bottle would come out the victor in that contest?)</div>
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Tomorrow we're having the measure for the upstairs shower door. If you'll recall, we turned down the $3000 custom door our contractor suggested, but Abby also turned down the perfectly good $700 one I found online because it had an edge on the side, and she wanted a perfectly frameless one. So we're going to inch up a bit, and go for the Home Depot custom ones that are about $1500, after which we can take a shower in our own bathroom instead of running up and down the stairs to do it. After that, hopefully the cabinets will be installed within the next few days, which will include the hookup of the dishwasher and range, and the ability of our contractors to install the range hood. Next Monday we're scheduled for a Comcast install for Internet, cable, and a security system, although we're pretty sure none of it is going to work. You see, we've been going back and forth with both Comcast and Verizon for weeks, trying to see if they actually provide service to us. At first neither recognized our addresses, but then they did. Now they want to just come out and do an appointment, even though Lee told us the windmill next-door was told they can't get service because no wires have been pulled for our side of the street. If you can imagine, I'm trying to get Comcast to put my house on the same work order as theirs, to save us time as well as to save the Comcast guy from having to come out for no reason. Comcast refuses to give me any information on an account that's not mine, even when I assure them I in fact want absolutely no information. "Just look at their account, don't say a word, and see if they can physically get cable; if they can, great! Schedule the appointment for us; but if they can't, wouldn't it save us all the trouble?" "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't give information out on anyone else's account." AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. So Comcast is coming out on Monday, but the smart money's on us <u>not</u> having cable on Tuesday.</div>
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So that's the update for now. Again, due to that whole not-having-cable thing, I can't upload pictures. So I promise a buttload of pictures once everything's hooked up. In the meantime, I've gotta run home and pack for my three-day Buffalo adventure that starts tomorrow and will hopefully include Duff's chicken wings, Anderson's lemon ice, and Alex Trebek. :)</div>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-55586527552772282232013-04-18T22:48:00.000-04:002013-04-18T22:48:11.830-04:00First Post Post-Move<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been a week since I last posted, but don't be too mad, because I have an excuse: we don't have Internet access at home. Yet. </div>
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Didja get that? Home. Yet. Yep: we've moved in. HALLE-FREAKIN'-LUJAH!<br />
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Late last week we said it was time to cut the cord, so we pulled up stakes from our DC house and moved almost all the rest of our stuff into the new place. By Saturday evening a very good chunk of our belongings had made the six-mile trip north across the state line in three car trips, and by Sunday evening there were only a few things left. (Actually, just as we've been living in the state of perpetual "just another few weeks" since last summer, it seems as if this week has been a state of perpetual "just another carload or two.") By today, though, we officially have one carload left, which we'll pick up tomorrow: our tv and the aquarium. And that's it. We'll be moved. <br />
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What that doesn't mean is that we're living in something that would resemble a normal living situation. We've got boxes everywhere, piled strategically so as not to block access to things the contractors will still need to get around. And believe me, there are still a lot of things, which I'll enumerate at the end of this post. But I want to focus on the positive, because, at least as concerns the house, this has been a great week.<br />
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So where to begin? I'll go room by room and give updates. In the kitchen, the countertop has been completed, including adding the extra hole at the sink for my beloved hot-water tap. The sink is in, too, but no plumbing has been hooked up. I believe that's the last step before livability, but since we have water in the bathrooms, we're making do. (This very much resembles the "fancy camping" we lived through for such a long time with the old house, only this will not last nearly as long.) The fridge is turned on and mostly stocked. The missing cabinets still haven't been delivered, and Home Depot is going to let us know when they are. We have a few extra cabinets that were mismade, and they keep calling to have them picked up and returned to the store. But the timing on this is getting out of hand, and I'm going to insist to them that they put us out and we deserve to keep at least some of the misfits-- especially since a couple of them will fit really well elsewhere in the house. The range is in but not on; the range hood is not in, but the hole for it has been cut; the microwave is in but not framed, and Isaac inaugurated it by reheating leftover pasta. The dishwasher looks too small for the hole it's supposed to fit in, but we're going to wait until the cabinet guys come back for the final install because, who knows, maybe it will magically fit in. I think, though, that we might have to get a new dishwasher and do something with this one... although I can't imagine what. And all the lights are in, including the two pretty ones with the incredibly wasteful Edison bulbs. Abby always turns those on, and I turn them off, because they cost a fortune to light.<br />
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Our bedroom is the room that's probably the most complete. The closet had already been installed, and over the course of a few nights almost all the shelves and hangers and drawers were filled up with clothes. I had to reinvent how I folded my tee shirts, because the old way was only filling the front half of each shelf; by folding shirts in thirds, I now get 50% more shirt per shelf. I bought one of those tie hangers that holds like 40 ties, but it's hard to use and only gets about two-thirds of my collection onto it; similarly, I bought four of those five-pants hangers from IKEA and I don't like the work it takes to take a pair off without disturbing the others. Both save space, but I'm going back to my regular tie rack and one-pair-per-hanger style. Abby put the new bed together-- which is the same as our old bed, except a new frame, since West Elm gave it to us for free. The bed fits right up to the windows, with both side tables in the room, with only a few inches to spare-- perfect fit. The first couple nights in there, we switched sides of the bed to see which would work: on night one, I was on the closet side and she was on the window side; on night two, we switched. Night two was incredibly awkward for both of us-- it's so weird, but after two nights, I believe we have decided what side of the bed we'll be sleeping on for the next couple of decades. (And it's neither the same as we had it in the old house or the way I had expected it to be, since Abby's usually freaked out being next to windows.)<br />
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The windows do freak us out a bit, but I think we'll survive! We ordered custom-made cellular blinds, which arrived at the house on Saturday; just waiting for them to be installed. Once installed, they'll not only help with shielding from onlookers, which seem to be everywhere, since the house is located pretty much in a giant fish bowl, but will also help with efficiency. They're made to be pulled up from the bottom, so we'll be able to block off the bottom half or two-thirds of the window, but still let in natural light from the top part. It'll be nice to be able to change my clothes in my own room, or to sleep without knowing everyone can watch me from the street. This morning, for instance, I had my pants on but decided to change shirts, so I was standing there looking into my closet when a neighbor walked by. I'm sure it looked like I was standing there naked, but, well, I wasn't, so there. Next week at this time, hopefully the blinds will shield the neighbors from the less-than-flattering exhibitionist that is my pasty self.<br />
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The great room is pretty much the same, since it had been painted way back. The up-lighting along the sides looks great, and even the workers agree-- I think they thought Abby was a bit weird for her choices in there. Instead of spot lights or track lighting, she chose these little linked LED lights that were plug-ins, and had them hard-wired in so each light lighted the area between two of the rafters. It looks really cool-- the only problem being that they were wired in a weird way, so if we want all of them to be on we have to flip four different switches, one in each corner of the room. We put Anyu's dining-room table together and have actually been eating at an honest-to-goodness table, rather than on a trunk disguised as a coffee table in front of the TV in the basement with the kids sitting on the floor. We don't have chairs yet, but since they're going to be a major purchase, we're going to wait with them until the construction is done-- don't want them to get scratched right away if we can help it. Oh, and the fireplace is in and turned on. Actually, it was so turned on that when we got back from Florida it was about 80 degrees inside, even though it was in the 50s outside. We still have to learn how to make it work, because it's a little trickier than we had hoped, but I think we'll get it.<br />
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The front door has the wrong hardware on it, but other than that it's the same. And the front foyer has been painted really nicely in the same gray color we used in the downstairs bathroom. And what do you know: our wedding lily made it through our vacation and is still alive, so I rewarded it with a good dusting and a move into the bay window.<br />
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Downstairs, the kids' rooms are both moving along. Their beds are semi-set-up, in that they're sleeping in them but the frames are not done altogether. My sister came by this weekend and helped put together some of their furniture, so now they each have a desk and a book case. Once all my clothes made it out of my old dresser, Isaac inherited it, we stuck it in his closet, and his clothes are also all put away; only Lola's remain sorted in a laundry basket and suitcase. Both sets of closet doors have been delivered, but aren't up yet. Abby even helped Isaac decorate his ceiling with a solar system set he got for Christmas (or was it Valentine's Day? I don't know... Abby gets them presents for everything, which is a point of contention...) Anyhow, it's coming along great, and more importantly they love their rooms. There have already been more than a handful of times when they've disappeared into their respective rooms to play. Alone. Quietly. (I know!) However, one of those times? Yeah, not so good. I got back from picking a load up from the old house on Saturday and Abby was fuming, and Lola was pouting. I guess the kids found their spin-art toy that takes paint and splatters it all around on a piece of paper that spins around... and started playing with it on their own-- and more importantly, on the new floor. They had paint all over their hands, and got it all over Lola's floor, and we hadn't even slept there one night. Abby was furious, and the toy has been banished. Luckily, the mess cleaned up because it was caught early enough. Phew!<br />
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The family room actually has a seating arrangement, and once the TV arrives tomorrow (we need to bring it when there are no kids in the car but two adults handy, since it's heavy and requires the seats to be dropped down) it'll go in. We won't have cable yet, but that's only days away. Last week I called Comcast again, and they again insisted they don't cover our house. 9610 and 9615 and 9620 Dewitt Drive? Sure. But 9618? Yeah, no. I insisted they were wrong, and implored them to come out to check. 36 hours later I get a call: "Mr. Wahl, we'd actually be happy to charge you $200 a month to watch ten channels and check your Facebook status." Actually, that's not exactly what they said, but it's what they meant. They're coming by on Tuesday to install cable, Internet, and potentially a security system. We don't know yet whether we'll do that, since it's such a good neighborhood. But Abby's freaked out by the windows-- understandably-- and the fact that the kids are on the ground floor, so my money's on us having it installed. <br />
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The laundry room? Well, apart from being able to move the washer and dryer back from where they were perched so close to the door, nothing looks different. But it's so incredibly nice to have in-house laundry back. Those nearly five months of begging others to allow us to wash in their place, or going to a laundromat even though we own two washers and two dryers, was definitely wearing on our patience. I have a load of laundry going as I type this, and no one's paying attention to it, and that's how it should be. It's nice and quiet, too, and plays a silly little electronic song when it's done, just like my parents' does. On the other side of the floor, though, things are not so quiet.<br />
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That's where the water heater is. What, you didn't hear me? I said, "THAT'S WHERE THE WATER HEATER IS!!!" Yeah, this thing is crazy loud, and I'm not happy about it. I'm wondering if it's the difference between having a gas water heater and an electric one-- our electric one in DC never made a peep, but this one sounds like an espresso machine gone berserk. We don't have it enclosed-- yet-- but believe me you, that will happen. <br />
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The bathroom is great, and taking a shower down there (since we don't have a shower door upstairs yet) is really nice. The water heater is directly behind the shower, so it's instantly hot. The window fogs over in about 30 seconds, so there's no putting on a show. (We're going to frost the window, so sorry potential peepers.) And I managed to cajole Abby into letting me put fluorescent bulbs into a couple of the fixtures. The toilets flush beautifully, and ridiculously fast. And the door locks. Did you hear that? For the first time, we have locking interior doors. It's magical, really.<br />
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So that's where we stand. In the morning, I've been getting up ten minutes earlier than in DC, and getting to work right on time. The way home I can't judge yet, because this week I've had to stay later than usual, and the Metro at 5:00 is way different than it will be at 4:30. One day I got home in under an hour, and the next it took me nearly 80 minutes because of a delay on the Blue Line. (I couldn't get mad, though, because the delay would've affected my old commute as well.) I'm definitely gonna get a bike to park at Forest Glen station on nice days, but for now, especially since I've got room on my SmarTrip card, I've been taking the Ride On bus to and from Silver Spring station, since its schedule lines up perfectly with mine, especially in the mornings.<br />
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Once we get settled, I'll be able to write with more frequency again, and will post pictures. But for now, I leave you with an email we sent to Mark this evening, of things we need to discuss tomorrow. (My more frequent readers will see the tone has changed a lot since the last letter of demands... for the better, that is.) It seems like the closer we are to the finish line, the more things there are to do. But we're moved in, and that's all that matters. At least this week :)<br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Mark: here are the current issues with the house. We would like to discuss them with you on Friday, but wanted you to be aware of them as soon as possible. Thanks, and talk to you soon. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">-G</span></i></blockquote>
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<i><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">1. Flooring issues: There’s a really weak spot in the great room just in front of the kitchen doorway. Every time you walk by, your heel depresses the spot a lot; also, in the same spot ther's a nail sticking up. Also, in our bedroom, just at the entrance on the right, one of the boards is split lengthwise, and will catch on your socks as you walk by, Definitely just waiting to pull right up and out.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">2. After the inspection, your guys can come in and cut down that backsplash, which is still ridiculously high. The electrician installed the outlets vertically on the backsplash, even though we requested (and he said he could do) horizontal. The height of the backsplash is unacceptable as is.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">3. We’ve purchased a chandelier for the dining room and are waiting for delivery.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">4. We need to switch a couple pieces of the door hardware that were installed in the incorrect place. We need the knob currently on the back door switched to the front door. (I labeled all of the knob boxes… don’t know why this one was put in where it was.) Also, the deadbolt in the back door was installed improperly; it locks from the inside, but there’s no way to lock or unlock it from the outside—the knob doesn’t catch for some reason.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">5. I bought the lighting timer that I wanted to have installed for the switch beside the front door, to use for the front porch lights. It requires a neutral wire, which is why I called you from Home Depot on Sunday. Let me know if this is not possible, because then I’ll exchange it for the one one step down, which does not require a neutral wire… I just like this one better.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">6. We have an old-fashioned doorbell that we’d like to have installed on the front door. It’s sitting on a box on the piano (which itself can be moved downstairs if you guys can do it) and the directions and hardware are all in the box. Abby can show the guys where it goes; it actually gets mounted right to the door, I believe.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">7. Also, Abby will show the guys where we’d like the address numbers to go. Apparently, not having them up is very confusing to a lot of people (FedEx, mailmen, etc.) so putting them up would be a good idea. We’ve given up on finding the mailbox, so we’re just going to buy a new one to have mounted on the wall. Both the mailbox and the address numbers will go on the wall to the right of the front door, as you look at it from outside.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">8. The water heater is crazy loud! We will definitely want to have it encased once all is said and done. I have never heard our water heater in DC make the noises this one makes—we can hear it in the kitchen! </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">9. You can hear everything between the kids’ bedrooms. Abby installed her secret passageway and discovered there was no insulation in the wall. I'm very disappointed with this, since we paid more than $1000 to have this done throughout the house.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">10. The light fixture in the mudroom is too low and needs to be raised.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">11. The spigot outside is dripping.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">12. The issue with the front door opening outward has not been resolved.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">13. The paint on the stair risers still needs to be scraped.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">14. The doors for the bathroom and upstairs closet can be installed.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">15. What is going on with the PVC pipe looping out of the left side of the roof (as you look at the house)? Also, there's a pipe of some sort sticking out of the ground by the back door.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">16. One of the great room ceiling lights (the one all the way to the left above the kitchen door) keeps going out.</span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">17. What is the switch on the countertop for? There will be no garbage disposal, and the hot-water heater stays on all the time with a plug.</span></i></blockquote>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-82037034930504029382013-04-10T10:45:00.001-04:002013-04-10T10:45:19.051-04:00Video Entry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We've been away for a week and a half, and have plenty to report, but before I do, I figured I'd post the most recent video update. Got home from Florida by 7, kids were in bed by 8, and I was in the house by 8:30 recording this. Abby was definitely jealous that I got to see everything first, but she gets to go there today-- when it's light out-- and I have to wait for that until at least Thursday. So, without further ado...<br />
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5605479848814231291.post-48960282215860688012013-03-29T23:19:00.002-04:002013-03-29T23:19:52.489-04:00Hiatus? Not Likely<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Tomorrow we head out on our Spring Break trip to Florida, four basement dwellers in search of some sun and sand before the final push. And in the waning days before the trip, we had another small flurry of activity from our side, with only a smidge of movement on the other. But I have faith that in the ten days we're out of state, our contractors won't be on vacation. What I don't have faith in, however, is that we'll be devoid of all things house during our trip.</span><br />
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Last year, I distinctly recall tracking down the water company people while standing watching the ocean. This time? I may be dealing with plumbing fixture problems while standing on that same deck, only it'll be the very end of the process rather than the beginning. Last year it was finding out we had absolutely no connection to municipal water whatsoever, and this year? Who knows? Although we have some inkling...</div>
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First off, Abby found out yesterday that the bathroom door in the basement doesn't clear the toilet, which is against code. Never mind the fact that we wanted the toilet to have been placed in a location where, gasp, that wouldn't have been an issue. Now it's an issue. Contractor says they may have to move the door, although I think they should just move the whole wall a few inches into the mudroom. Problem with that? The walls were put up before the tile was laid, so there's no tile where the wall currently stands. We do have extra tile, though, so that's a possible fix. Time will tell how that problem is solved: ten days of time, that is.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s2.img-b.com/build.com/imagebase/resized/x800/dreamlineimages/aqualux_tubchrome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="249" src="http://s2.img-b.com/build.com/imagebase/resized/x800/dreamlineimages/aqualux_tubchrome.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our downstairs shower door. How very Euro...<br />(And for $3000 less than custom.)</td></tr>
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We had a guy come out to measure the openings for our shower doors, and he came back with a completely, utterly ridiculous quote of $6,400 for the two doors together, including $3,400 for a custom door for downstairs that took into account the height disparity between the two sides of the shower wall. I promptly wrote back to Mark: "tell the guy thanks but no thanks." I went on Build.com and in about ten minutes found a perfectly good (fancy, actually) all-glass door with no edge, just like Abby requires. It's a splash door, which is how Europeans do their showers a lot of the time. That means it only covers about 75% of the opening-- where the water splashes. Halfway across, there's a pivot joint in the glass that turns the window into a door when you want it open. Simple, pretty, modern, and less than $500. Rather than $3,400. Upstairs is gonna be a little harder, because we haven't found anything online that has no edge, as Abby requires. Or rather, all the un-edged doors are sliding doors, and Abby wants doors that swing out. She went by Home Depot today to talk to someone, but no one was there. She says she'll call them tomorrow... from the airport... we'll see... But in the meantime, the downstairs shower door has already been ordered, so at least that's a job 50% done.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrhZhcxobdU6HtAph92HcWZStHkoFfda96buufGc2zApCSZmB1zQUiFHa-NBviIdAg7FNjfZrIlOtTDVjR_2XCq91Uo2pGV_5N8-ecGMDG3qnKcr_iGTusbWPDWItP2yAt9rWoBZenTo/s1600/IMG-20130327-01256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrhZhcxobdU6HtAph92HcWZStHkoFfda96buufGc2zApCSZmB1zQUiFHa-NBviIdAg7FNjfZrIlOtTDVjR_2XCq91Uo2pGV_5N8-ecGMDG3qnKcr_iGTusbWPDWItP2yAt9rWoBZenTo/s320/IMG-20130327-01256.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what $450 in door knobs looks like.</td></tr>
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Also ordered is one of the two door knobs we're missing. Still haven't picked front-door hardware, but it was simple enough to go onto Build.com and find the pocket door version of the knobs we got for the rest of the house. Less than ten bucks, matches everything, done. Hopefully by the time we get back, all of the doors will have been delivered, installed, and attached to hardware. We may not have a shower door upstairs, but at least we'd have a bathroom door! I sat down on Wednesday in the Great Room and labeled the 20-some knobs we've already had delivered, since there are five different kinds (dummies, lockable ones, ones without locks, keyed entry, and a deadbolt), and Lola sat down with me to look at the boxes. She was intrigued that her name was on three different boxes (two closet dummies and a lockable knob) and was downright thrilled with the idea that she'll have a lock on her door, "so I can lock Isaac out!" Exactly what I was thinking...</div>
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Abby's Home Depot trip also had her finalizing our blinds order. Yeah, blinds may be thought of more as decor, but think of a) how open our bedrooms are to people walking or driving by the south side of the house, and b) how old our stormless windows are. (Actually, I was holding my hands near the windows the other day and found them to have not nearly as much of a temperature gradient as I had feared. Bonus!) Anyhow, the blinds we ordered are the cellular kind, that look like accordions and help not only with privacy (while allowing for light to come through) but also with efficiency, because they have an R-value of something-small-but-I'll-take-it. What's also cool about them is that they'll be attached at the bottom, so they can be pulled up rather than down; that'll help because the top parts of the windows can be kept open while still getting privacy in the room. Additionally, since they're custom, that means each one will fit the window perfectly, and will be installed professionally. And hopefully that'll be done in about two weeks, just as we're moving in.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEpjLqZfyXEkd9J6loJbZmNlXE9h4zmIZwt-_o04ECEJKdSWZGedoif0z6G_M2V1EFYQWGu8vIJgj3knPbF3dzV0JkQ9OOnltM-GxS0VpqbOAqsnpjExQbRE4E_1yMbGqsgYIPhzIM5w/s1600/IMG-20130327-01259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEpjLqZfyXEkd9J6loJbZmNlXE9h4zmIZwt-_o04ECEJKdSWZGedoif0z6G_M2V1EFYQWGu8vIJgj3knPbF3dzV0JkQ9OOnltM-GxS0VpqbOAqsnpjExQbRE4E_1yMbGqsgYIPhzIM5w/s320/IMG-20130327-01259.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The couches on which Abby napped.</td></tr>
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After Home Depot, Abby took a nap. Sure, that sounds like not-so-big news, but it's the first time any of us has slept in the house, so there's that. She napped on one of the sofas downstairs, which we arranged on Wednesday after having given Abby ample time to put a lot of our stuff away where it needed to go. It still amazes me that the giant pile of stuff that came out of that storage pod has pretty much disappeared into all of the closet space downstairs. (Although upstairs, that's a different matter... How is it that we have so many clothes?!) </div>
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Our paperwork stuff is coming along as well; the mortgage refi hasn't moved, but our insurance rates are coming down, which is always a plus. While we're gone, I expect to spend some time on the cell phone working both of these issues... just as I had on the beach in Delaware last year. Hey, it'll be worth it!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpKsSvddmB-E0CqCOiTPstgx3ga9qsMWr210v_quUkgr2BAzg0CK66OLzZa1vJaxf0H-bZ1cd4GFSpVwo4sqKDxA3_bivnU1JbMecMk3UFe7AsVaJvWzPlXpyA84U8ffUA3dEOz9VC3M/s1600/IMG-20130327-01264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpKsSvddmB-E0CqCOiTPstgx3ga9qsMWr210v_quUkgr2BAzg0CK66OLzZa1vJaxf0H-bZ1cd4GFSpVwo4sqKDxA3_bivnU1JbMecMk3UFe7AsVaJvWzPlXpyA84U8ffUA3dEOz9VC3M/s320/IMG-20130327-01264.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the storage area under one set of stairs.<br />There's TONS of room down there!</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Anyhow, that's about it as my vacation begins. I won't see the house for the next ten days, and hopefully once I do, it'll be completely and utterly livable-- although I </span><i style="text-align: justify;">still</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> haven't heard anything about those damn windows that need to be replaced. I'd say "fingers crossed," but I have said that way too much while writing this blog, and plus, doing that would give me weird tan lines on my hands, wouldn't it? ;)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUZg-4GHyRB00a6tqE4etSf6Z2fgAD6vrQ408c_otEI3ggzptprXYT58WxSmHZjjsVYMGEmth_q7liv7LcYJFW_Wfz5cCzfIoj8JaB0cfgtqCW9wIif18H9PrF1aQBOAGLsh3D6Ib6QQ/s1600/IMG-20130327-01261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUZg-4GHyRB00a6tqE4etSf6Z2fgAD6vrQ408c_otEI3ggzptprXYT58WxSmHZjjsVYMGEmth_q7liv7LcYJFW_Wfz5cCzfIoj8JaB0cfgtqCW9wIif18H9PrF1aQBOAGLsh3D6Ib6QQ/s320/IMG-20130327-01261.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guest room closet, <i>with door!</i></td></tr>
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Was Buf., Now Was.http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343407368423941656noreply@blogger.com0