weese's political stance

I will vote for anyone who immediately bans the use of, possession of,
or even knowledge of ...packing peanuts.



There should also be strict punishments for violators or those who unlawfully harbor such vile materials.

Like serious punishment... not spa time at the penitentiary with three squares and cable tv.

expecting...

grammy-weese and nana are very excited to announce the gestational beginnings of their very first grandchild.

I cannot keep my delighted wife (aka nana) still. She has already refinished two rocking chairs, is hemming maternity pants and oh...has changed her career status to 'semi-retired'.

In case you were expecting a card...

:/

'tis the season

I have several posts swimming around in my head - but no time to write.
So its getting crowded up there...hmm, I think they make a pill for that.

The holidays are upon us folks.
Please fill your hearts with joy and your homes with cookies (must remember to blog about my new diet plan).

This time of year can bring tremendous stress as we try to do everything right and to please others. Remember to take a moment each day - be completely in that moment. You may find that in each moment taken upon itself its not all that stressful. You may find a small slice of peace. Of joyful peace.
And by being joyful - you create joy around you. Its like a big joy bubble. Others will feel this joy. And its quite possible they too will also become joyful. If not..remember there is always Spiced Rum.

Happy Holidays - from weese and her festive wife

oh yeah...and the Free dog.

Bubba

It's not his name, tho honestly I can't remember how I came to start calling him that. But for so many years now he's been Bubba to me.

Bubba is my brother.
My older brother.

So close in age, it always surprises me that our earliest memories don't seem to match. The result of a brother and sister's individual interpretations of their childhoods I suppose... or at least I hope. We joke about been raised by different families.

Bubba and I were not really close as kids. We were very different with different friends and interests. Tho we were not combative either. We argued rarely and were never rough with each other.

In high school, only 1 year apart, our paths grew even farther from each other. I was popular and on the wild side (ok - far to that side). He was quiet and kept to himself a bit. I was considered the smart one - but really more clever than smart. Mom gave him a hard time about his grades and his unkempt room and all sorts of other nonsense.

When it came time for college we were both expected to attend the private university where our father had been a well respected professor. We had free rides and free reign with a great head start from faculty who still remembered our father fondly over a dozen years after his death.

Bubba went off to school first - but it didn't click for him. His poor high school grades confirmed by his failure to thrive at college.
A year later I left for the same school, leaving Bubba behind living at home.

But Bubba was anything but dumb. With no education he landed himself a job as a case worker. He literally talked himself into a career, a field he works in to this day. Like his father, he is well respected in his work, and liked by his coworkers for his amiable attitude and great sense of humor.

At some point during his adult life Bubba came to realize his earlier difficulties were caused by dyslexia. Finally an answer to what hindered him from being able to muddle his way through reading and writing and learning all those years. Not even he understood why it was just so hard for him. So hard for him to learn and prepare and present - so hard for him, while I skated through barely even going to class and bringing excellent grades home. Even as a young person I realized how frustrating that must have been for him.

But like a blind person might - he learned to compensate. He honed a perfect memory. He absorbed like a sponge. If he heard it once, not only could he remember it and understand it but he could connect and expand on several things based on relation information - pulling it all together. He was like a walking encyclopedia, or perhaps more accurately - a database, and he loved to talk and share. Please note, that as his sister this was more annoying than impressive.

This amazing gift was primarily overlooked. It's simply what got him through life. It helped him advance his career. It helped him fit.

Bubba loved to learn. He lived to learn. I believe if it were not for his disability, or even perhaps if he had been diagnosed - he may have become a scholar. One of those 'professional students', maybe even a professor like his dad.
And at some point he came to realize that an education was actually very important to him.
So once again - he overcame.

Bubba got a diploma.

He found an amazing university doing a progressive degree program which catered to folks with jobs trying to advance their educations. It's a non-traditional adult learning program - tho more intense than most.
Since it was so personalized - the learning experience could be tweaked to his dyslexic limitations. And there he soared.

Not only did he graduate with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Human Development - but Bubba was the keynote speaker as well.

He was eloquent, and funny and touching.

We overheard a professor ask him if he had memorized his words. He spoke with such confidence and poise and it was quite evident he was not reading from a paper.
In true character - he simply chuckled and replied to the professor that he had a written speech but he was not really sure where he laid it down last, surely it must be somewhere...

His wife quietly whispered to us - that in fact he spoke exactly what he had written, as she had read his speech earlier this week.

That's my big brother Bubba.
He is his father's son.
He is a scholar.

Mom would be so proud.

I caught some of the 11 o'clock news last night. I wanted to see if winter planned to make an appearance here in New England (note that I am NOT complaining).

The weather is last of course - this way we must muddle through all the local drudgery. Apparently some Town Hall was going to redo their roof and residents were having a nit fit. In another town some folks are without power...again... tho really you would think we'd all be used to that by now.

Then we got to crime portion of the news.

In a town not to far from here it seems there was a store that was robbed. The newscaster described the robbers as 'two white men'.
A little farther north there was a bank robbery. These suspects were described as 'two black men'.

So people, please - keep your eyes out for either two white men, or two black men.

I suppose if you should see four men and two of them are white and two of them are black we can assume its a crime ring.

For that matter if you simply see one man and he is either white or black - you may have spotted one of them.

So if you see anyone at all - perhaps you should just call the police.

this can't be good

I turned on the Victoria Secret fashion show last night.
What's better than terribly attractive women in very little clothing?
Who needs in-depth programming or even a plot.
Simply eye-candy.

Oddly, its just made me hungry.

how to relax over the holidays

Go to someone elses house. heh.

After some 20+ years of hosting ... Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas morning or Christmas brunch or Christmas dinner, Easter even Mothers day - perhaps all of these in the same year.
We had the unique opportunity to ...not.

This year my attractively-aging wife and I were hosted by our daughter - who seemingly loves to cook and entertain. She makes it all seem so effortless (and tasty). Ah, to be young.

This meant there was no holiday pre-clean. No shopping or cooking or basting and stirring. We didn't vacuum ...twice (thanks Free dog). We didn't rent tables and set up rooms in odd configurations to handle the masses. We didn't create a space for hors devours or a makeshift wine bar.

Instead - we lingered over coffee. We watched the parade, and scuffed around in jammies like it was a Sunday morning.

Later that day, we ate, we drank, we helped clear some dishes.

Then we stuffed ourselves into our car, and rolled home.

Where there was no post holiday cleaning, no crumbs ground into the furniture, no mountains of empties to rinse and put out. No dishes hidden under the sofa. Not a wine spill to be found.

I felt so lazy.

I could get used to this.

does this make me look old

The problem, as I see it, with this 'my hair should look like I just woke up' look - is that I can no longer tell if a guy is lazy and unkempt or seriously fashionable.

Friday

tip-o-day

It occurred to me -- while squishing myself into a tiny attic crawl space with several tools in hand, wearing a face mask, goggles and gloves and stuffing insulation between the floor joists (vapor barrier down, of course) that not only should I be paying somebody to do this for me - but that I need to share some important advice with my children.

Do the best you can to plan your life well. Save money when you're young. Don't squander it all on fun and dinners out and fancy cars and trips and fine shoes (well... maybe fine shoes).
That way, when you get to be the ripe ole age of 50 - you can hire people to do things like lay on their backs with a staple gun and itchy pink insulation in spaces that should only be accessed by the occasional house spider.

Excuse me while I go find my checkbook.

Friday

tip-o-day

It's best to move furniture away from registers during the heating season. This is especially important with baseboard heat where it needs to draw cooler room air up under the register and release it from the top at toasty temps.

To help keep furniture from sliding back up against the registers from normal daily use - use a small board (perhaps 1/2 thick by 3 inch width) cut to about 6 or so inches in length. I like to use pine scraps from my workshop and if they will be visible, I apply a coat or two of poly so it blends with our wood floors.
Simply place the wood behind each furniture leg and tuck it under the register or push it against the wall. This way the sofa, bed or table won't be able to get any closer.

Got power?

As you may have heard we’ve been having some ‘electrical issues’ here in the Northeast or perhaps it’s only Connecticut. Certainly seems to be anyway. Or maybe we just don't hear the news from our neighboring states over our own loud complaining.

Now I don’t run a power company, nor do I have any knowledge of the inner workings of such a business… but most people in the state, and especially those without power are certain that something is not right. Currently there is a lot of finger pointing and complaining, while we still have several thousand folks going without power now for 9 days. I heard there is even a lawsuit. Eek.

Granted it's been pretty bad here. Roads are impassable, schools have been out for over a week in some places, homes are damaged, trees are just destroyed. There are parking lots where folks can get drinking water, and places opening up called 'warming stations' for those folks trying to stay with their homes ..but who just need to get toasty for a little while. The shelters are full, the hotels with power are full, and those of us with power are taking in family and friends.
(this was not a hardship for us mind you... as it was our nieces who we got to take in )

I do know that despite any missteps by management that the folks working the lines are out there in force, working long, long hours – in the dark, in the cold and now many of them leaving their homes and families in other states to come help us out.

It so happened that yesterday on the highway I passed some of these line workers – looked like they were convoying to either another outage location, or maybe back home to their families and warm hearths.
There had to be at least 20 trucks traveling along in the right lane. The emblem on their trucks put them all from Michigan. Michigan people… wow.

And so.. I pulled into the middle lane and traveled at a speed where I could pass each truck in the convoy. Each time I came up next to a truck I beeped and waved and gave at thumbs up out of my sunroof. Each truck in turn tooted back at me. I passed so many of these guys, that by the time I got to the front of the line they were beeping and waving at me first. Other 16 wheelers joined in and beeped too, as well as some drivers who caught on to what was going on.

Down at our house by the marsh, our power didn’t even flicker – we don’t get much snow down here. But I really wanted to say thanks. Thanks to the people that go out and do cold, and important work --despite issues with management, flawed media coverage, and a bunch of cranky customers.

Friday

tip-o-day

If you know you're house will be filled with workers ALL day...who might possibly be tracking in mud and marking up your freshly painted walls - take you Xanax early.

It's still going on...

Just so you don't think we are all sitting around swilling Bloody Mary's here all day long...
(well not the entire day...)

Work continues here on the little house by the marsh.

This week we are getting all new windows. Believe me ...we need them.


The cement slab for our new 2 car garage has been poured. We don't have an actual garage yet, but really I can't be too picky.

Last week we had the entire back lawn removed.


We reseeded it. Which was more work than I had expected. Somehow I wasn't completely convinced that age can actually slow you down. That was a huge miscalculation.


Luckily the very next day found us in Provincetown - swilling Bloody Mary's of course.

Really…

I heard on the radio this morning that they will soon offer rides in space starting at about $200k per 2 hour ride.

People… if you happen to have $200k to joy ride in a rocket, could you just feed somebody.

look up

I am busy today watching the sky for space debris.

Hey... you never know.

and then there was one

The era of the land baronesses has ended. whew.
We now only own one house. It almost seems too easy.

I closed on mom's condo on Friday.

It was even more emotional than closing on our own house a few weeks ago.
As tired as we were of running three households there is just something about that moment when you realize you can never go back.

The closing went smoothly, in fact while I was signing papers the buyer called and asked if she could go in. Apparently she was sitting in her car with her daughter - after just having closed on her old house...waiting... nervous waiting. I agreed immediately, even wished I had thought to mention it sooner. I know the day must have been terribly hard for her. I wanted to do anything I could to make it as smooth as possible.

You see, Ita had been living in her home for over 40 years. She raised her children there, her husband was a teacher at the towns high school and she was a nurse (just like my mom). Ita lost her husband to cancer just this past March. I don't the story of how she managed to get organized enough to move so quickly - but I do know that moving to my mom's senior complex is right in between her two daughters. I have to believe that was a major motivation.

After I signed all the papers (it was just me and the lawyers - I am the executrix)
I headed over to my mom's plot at the cemetery which is just down the street from the condo. This was my thoughtful-wifes' idea, and as usual her suggestions are worth listening to.

The afternoon was stunning, warm sunshine and a cool autumn breeze. It was while I sat there enjoying the air and tending to the plot that I decided to go buy a small house warming plant and stop by to meet Ita. Was that crazy? I don't know. But it felt right.

The movers were there, and in full swing. As I approached the front door I waved to an elderly woman just inside. She invited me in even before I had a chance to introduce myself. Once I told Ita that I was the one who just sold her the condo she had me sitting at the table chatting in no time at all. Her daughter was there - helping her to unpack her kitchen. The three of us chit chatted comfortably about moving, and being a nurse, about how wonderful this neighborhood is how friendly the neighbors are - all watching out for each other.

I watched her furniture fill up the rooms that we had visited for over a dozen years. Her sofa set against the wall where mom's green one used to be. I spent more than a few nights during those last months sleeping on that green sofa, so I could be close to her room in case she stirred.
Ita's brown leather recliner remarkably set just where mom's favorite swivel recliner was. You could walk in any time and find her sunken into it. She would spin it around to face the door when she heard me come in as I called out a greeting. It was her go-to spot whether to watch a football game or when she was not feeling well. She even slept in it sometimes when the chemo made her too nauseous to lie in bed.

It did not bother me to see these changes. It felt good. I was happy for Ita. I was happy for the little condo. Happy for all the new memories that were going to happen there. Happy for the new grandkids that would come skipping through that door, calling out to grandma, who might be sitting in her recliner.
Knowing the good energy that was left there, and knowing how much Ita could use some now.

I was ready to let go.
I am ready to carry on.

peace mom.

Big News

I have had so much to say lately, it's time to get back to it...

What a better way to start than with this.
Last night we did something that most of you do every day - that we have not done in 25 years.

Yes, folks.

We loaded and ran a dishwasher.
Right here in our own house.
All by itself it sat there whirring and swishing and soon enough, it was done!

These new fangled gadgets are certainly amazing.

and then there was some wind

We're just fine. The little house by the marsh made it through the big, bad hurricane fairly unscathed.
The roof leaked a bit, the basement dribbled a little.
But we never lost power.

We walked down to the water several times that day. It was a shorter walk than usual.
Folks down there took a beating.
But hey - you have to expect that if you want to live on the fringe.

and then...

...there is Irene.

Here at the little house by the marsh we are busily preparing for the storm.

The latest models show a direct hit. The biggest issue for us will be flooding. Luckily our little house sits pretty high, but we are taking some precautions in the basement.

We chatted with a cop in the front yard yesterday morning who told us most likely they will post some police down here on our little peninsula, and then close off both access roads.
No in, no out.
We are also preparing to be without power for several days.
Meaning that we will fill our propane tanks and go to the liqour store.

Welcome to the neighborhood!

and then there was the bathroom

I don't have very good before pictures of the bathroom, but let me try to describe it.
The main bathroom is VERY small ... oddly we still bought the house. We were spoiled with our last house in that even tho we only had 1.5 baths, our main bath was rather roomy for an older house.

This bath is typical of the cape style houses found here at the beach. Almost every cape we went into had a similar layout. And actually one of the reasons we liked this little brick house by the marsh is that on either side of this bathroom were decent sized closets for each bedroom. The lack of closet space in houses by the water is astounding. Well...not the houses right on the water - I bet they have loads of closet space, or at least I would hope so. It would really piss me off to pay a million bucks for a house and have my clothes jammed into makeshift closets in the eves.

Anyway... back to the bathroom -

The previous owners had recently remodeled this tiny bathroom to include a really cheap plastic spa tub.
It may look ok in this picture - but the thing warped when you got in. And as we have already established, the previous owners idea of clean and my idea of clean could not be farther apart. I would NEVER be able to bathe in this tub. Just thinking of it now is making me shiver...

And ..yes... it is surrounded by black, fake-marbly tile. Even the ceiling was black tile. Really, what do people think about?

On the other side of the room they installed the largest vanity they could find - perfect for the tiny space.


Clearly ALL this had to go...



We had a new cast iron tub installed.

My artistic-wife picked out delicious tile for the floor - since it was such a small space we spoiled ourselves with marble. It feels amazing under bare feet.


She brightened up the shower area using white and some playful blues.



Then we went to Ikea - who shines at clever ideas for small spaces and got this small vanity and very cool sink/faucet.


Please note: that while currently functional, this room is still under construction. A leak (we now say "yet another leak") was discovered in the wall mounted bathroom fan... this leaking... is a whole 'nother story.

We started in the kitchen...

When we bought the little brick house by the marsh (we have marsh views...not beach views - hey we're not millionaires) we knew we would need to make some changes.

The previous owners had a decorating style that... we'll lets just call it early 80's gangster.

So we had already planned on doing extensive painting and to have the floors redone.
notice dark floors...and mustard? walls

..and what the hell is that thing over the sink.



But what we didn't expect to find was so much damage. These people were slobs. And apparently were clueless when it came to house breaking dogs.

yes.
ew.

We started to tear up the fake wood kitchen floor the day after we closed. What we found underneath was ...simply nasty.

My horrified-wife said,
I want it out.
All out.
Right now!

Bad timing for our friend Bill who was on his way over for the new house tour. But he handled it like a gentleman when I called him to say 'bring a drill'.


new hardwood in the kitchen,

and new cabinets.

Of course, as with every project here at the brick house on the marsh, there have been some glitches and delays.
But hey - plywood counters are way better than where we stared.

...and we're back

we've moved.
we put all of our crap in boxes.
25 years of crap.
in boxes.
and we used ALOT of tape.

5 guys came and put all of those boxes in two trucks.
we all drove down here to the beach (its a marsh actually).
the five guys then unloaded ALL those boxes into our new house.
our new house is smaller than our old house.
the movers lost nothing.
dammit.

we are nearly unpacked.
but thats only because I live with, and am in love, with an industrious woman.
a woman whose stamina and work ethic are terribly hard to keep up with.

we are still under renovation.
there has been MUCH renovation, and more to come.

in retrospect, I really wished I had been blogging this whole time.

its been hilarious, scary, daunting, wonderful and enlightening.
I don't recommend moving for the faint of heart.
my energizer-wife says the next move will be to the 'home' with just our toothbrushes and a picture of the kids.
I am down with that.

This is why we don't need a truck

My spontaneous-wife has been amassing plantings for the new house.
It's hard to see because of the background - but she pulled into the driveway with this...



I hear they loaded it into the car with a forklift, while commenting "Well this is a first."

She had it planted right away.

weese and her wife - land baronesses

Irony.
One of several reasons we bought the little house down by the water was to cut down on all the maintenance we currently have here.


As it turns out - we've ended up doing a 'bit' more work on the new house than first anticipated...


This has delayed our move in date.
So now we maintain two houses...and yards...and gardens.
Oh - and we still haven't sold my mom's house yet.

Is it any wonder why I have no time for blogging.

a little something for everyone

I went to the bank today. The branch... you know where there are actual tellers and such.
I was cashing in rolls of quarters and proceeds from our tag sale, car wash and bake sale - to get a deposit check together for the new house we are going to own tomorrow.

It took the teller a few moments to gather the paper work and count all those quarters - so I was idly watching the TV screen over her head. Normally I eschew screens in places of business. I find them disturbing and bothersome.
But something struck me about this show.
It was CNBC and they were discussing some top trader type fellow who was leaving his company and going to another. Apparently, this was big news and causing much stir.

But what struck me was the set, the commentators, the backdrop - even the stuff running at the bottom. This literally could have been on ESPN, with the topic about any of the big time players moving to another team. Even their body language and conversation patterns were just the same as I had seen Ferris watch a million times on his sports channels.

I began to picture a room of young analysts in front a huge TV, swilling beer and snacking on chips and big meat sandwiches**. They would argue back and forth about the move... was it the right move, was the new company smart in paying so much at sign on, how would the old company recover.

Hey... whatever you're into.
It's just nice to know those boys have a show to watch too.


** ok, possibly they would be swilling martinis and munching on fancy crackers slathered in caviar. but I like my imagery better.

Friday

tip-o-day

Here's a quick, easy way to keep your house in tip-top shape and always ready for that unplanned drop in.
Put a for sale sign in the front yard.

just when you thought....

I went over to my mom's this evening to meet a woman to sign a binder on her place.
I am the Executrix. I love the way that sounds... it makes me want to wear leather and furry handcuffs.

The contract has Hubbard clause because this woman needs to sell her place first.
I like her. She's a nurse, like mom. I hope she gets it.

But I was early. And I started to wander around.
And it started to get hard.

On the counter I found a tape and a player that my sister in law had left out for my brother to listen to. It was a tape from one of the many visits to one of my mothers many doctors. Sometimes, randomly she would bring along this little cassette recorder, because sometimes she didn't remember what the doctors told her.
I don't think she ever listened to any of the tapes after the appointments.

My sister in law set it out so we could hear her voice again.

This appointment was with a surgeon from Yale. One of the best. He specialized in difficult cases. She visited him a couple times. This visit was shortly after a year on chemo, and a few months before her death. On this tape I heard him tell her that she was still inoperable. That damned tumor was still sitting right on her vena cava. A major artery. And this position is what made surgery out of the question.
But - he told her all was not bad. The chemo was shrinking her tumor. I heard her voice add that indeed her markers were down.
This was all good news. Reason for hope. He advised perhaps some radiation.
Don't rule that out.
You look good he remarked.
Stay positive. And by all means keep in touch, he told her.
He was lovely... this surgeon, with a delightful British accent and a gentle European way. He was so soothing, and confident, and gave her that knowledgeable hope - that she would only take from the best doctors.
He assured her. Even though he could not help her.

I was with her at this appointment. Sitting right next to her. I believe I was holding the little cassette recorder.
I heard the hope, along with the subtleties of fear in her voice on that tape.
I don't remember hearing that when we were there.

Packing 101

We're packing.
It's a little early - but we're excited.

Plus, last time we moved it was not all that smooth.
Hey - it was the 80's, we were in our mid 20's and kinda casual about the whole process.

Casual meaning... not really prepared.

Not prepared meaning that by around 10pm we were just grabbing arm fulls of stuff that had just not been packed.

No really... weese was a little less on top of things in the old days.
That's back when I was 'self-medicating'. I was calmer then. Tho clearly not as prepared. Every thing's a trade-off.

Just ask the friends who moved us. They still have emotional scars (and possible physical ones too).
I suppose that could be why they keep sending me emails with referrals to good moving companies and showing up in my driveway with packing supplies.

But this time... this time we'll be ready.

Hmm, is it possible to be too ready?

Putting technology in its place

My off-the-grid wife has been forwarding me articles about how bad my cell phones is for my health.
She tells me not to hold it against my head for too long and that I should not carry it on my body. When I pressed her on statistical result data she was not too positive what the actual long term effects might be.
So I now carry my cell phone exclusively in my front pants pocket.
I am hoping to discover a way to shorten menopause.

Friday

tip-o-day

This tip is brought to you by my new favorite customer service rep at Drs F oster and Smith - where I recently purchased a new dog bed for the Free Dog. It was one of the best customer service experiences ever I must say.

Completely out of character, I purchased an overly priced, overly stuffed designer covered cozy new bed to ease the trauma of moving. I know I know... go ahead and say it if you must - that's not going to help; I am a big softy; I spoil my children and pets (duh).

Anyhooo...
If you're like me and prefer to launder the pet bed cover often - here is a great tip to make it easier to put the cover back on. Some of these covers can fit quite tightly making it difficult to slide the bed back in.

Take a garbage bag, in the case of Free Dog's bed -- Free Dog who now tops 90 pounds... it's winter weight, she and I are both working on that -- we'll use a large lawn bag for her large size bed.
Slip the bag over the bed - open side away from you.
Then take the bed cover and slip it over the bed starting from the side where the bag is open (the openings will be on opposite sides).
The cloth cover will slide on easily over the slippery plastic.
Then just pull the bag out!

pinch me please

Our house is on the market.

holy crap.

Please don't chat it up with people I am paying hourly

This place is crawling with hired help right now to help us ready the house for sale.

I need them to all stop being so damned friendly with each other.
Our septic folks have been coming here for over 20 years and are very nice people, but they need to realize I am paying these landscapers by the hour.

:/

Gotta run, the chimney guy is here...

the look of fate

So here is how it happened.

We decided quite recently that we were finally serious about moving. No really - we were gonna move. We had been talking about moving for years - the talking was getting old.

A plan was devised and lists were made.

We started watching new homes pop onto the market in the areas we were shopping.
This was exciting. Tho we still had much to do here to prepare this house for sale.

Suddenly (read this as the moment we decided to start looking) my excited wife found her dream home.
Please keep in mind... the last 'dream home' she found was, well let's call it a "vintage home", replete with crumbling foundation, sagging roof and leaning enough to notice while driving by. Needless to say I was skeptical.

But I have to say - the online pictures had me intrigued.

An adorable little cape, freshly done hardwood, a cute little layout and best of all - full ocean views from the front yard.
Whats not to like.
We did a drive by that night.

We got excited. We called our realtor the next day.
He said... "If only you had called 20 minutes ago"

Well, ok. Whattaya gonna do.

So there, the door had been opened - so we (read 'we' as 'my eager wife') threw the door open wide and started to look.

We saw a couple houses that were downright scary.
In one home I swear someone must have died while making dinner - and no one thought to clean that up before showing the house. This house would need siding, windows, chimney, roof and complete gutting inside.
It had two bids.

Hmm. Are we starting to see a pattern here.

One cold and rainy evening we walked through five houses in the desired neighborhood.
One was to smelly, one was two small, one was ok, one was on deposit and then there was one that was really quite nice.

But we didn't want to do anything rash. This house had been on the market for a couple months. So we figured... no rush.

Two days later we went to see another house (the one where I swear someone died) and walked out shaking our heads. The views were nice, but we were just not up for that much renovation.
We noticed that the rather nice house from the other night was about to have an open house.

Oh my.

We MUST go.

And here is where fate reared its beautiful head.

We arrived a full hour before the open house was to begin.
As we walked into the house our realtor introduced us to the listing agent, a friend, a good guy.
I shook his hand and turned to introduce my wife, already wanding around the first floor.
He, without missing a beat, and with an unmistakable lilt said
"Oh, honey - you're gonna love it here. This neighborhood is sooo accepting.
I live right down the block and have won the best garden award for two years running."

The deal was practically sealed.

But after wanding around the house for awhile, and getting annoyed at the other people coming in and out and walking through 'our' house... there was a moment.
A moment between my wife and I that makes me love this house even more...

She stood in the dining room, and I in the living room - and over the stairs our eyes met. I raised my eyebrows and pressed my lips, and gave just the slightest shrug of my shoulders indicating the silent inflection of a question.
She nodded. Her lips gently spreading into a devilish smile.

I turned to the agent and said, "Ok, what do we need to do to get this done."

or

A little word with so much power.
There is OR and AND, or AND and OR.

Often used in the ubiquitous snippets of the if, then statements.

Can you even imagine how often you say them.

Trying to write about these little words without using them makes for difficult prose.

When I think of my life, I have always thought of it in terms of 'and'
My adorable wife and I.
Me and my family.
See... we are 'ands'.

However, in legal terms… or is the way to go.
For example - when you own property. You want or... not and...

You want it to be: property of weese or her delightful wife.

If it were and - then it would not be mine...it would be ours. Meaning it would only be partially mine. Which is great and cute and all la-de-daa sharing and what not...but when it comes to property you need to toss cute out the window.
We need property to be each of ours, not both. If our marriage were recognized it would not be an issue. But its not, so it is.

So why do I care today?
Because my spontaneous wife and I went on a little shopping spree this weekend.


This is hers...or mine...

A sure sign spring is coming

Who needs a groundhog.

FREE dog on ice

uncle

Thank goodness we finally realized that we're ... well... 50 or so.

After laying in bed the other night listening to the porch roof creak and thud under the weight and thawing and freezing - we hired out.

Two guys with shovels and a ladder.
Done.

We've let most of the front walk go.
The driveway has an inch of solid ice.
Now that the roof is clear the snow piles around the house are 6 feet.
We have given up on Ferris' hand me downs and purchased our own braces and wraps, I am using a cane as well.

More snow is coming this weekend, followed by another storm next week.

I am calm. Eerily so.

keeping up

Over the weekend, my achy wife and I tried to tidy up a bit before this next storm (the one going on right now).

Since we live on a busy street - it's been a bit challenging to get out of our driveway due to visibility.
Here is my clever wife bringing down the height of the pile on the left side. She climbed up on top and shoveled it back away from the road - removing about 2 feet off the overall height, and maybe 6 feet back from the road (she moved ALOT of snow).



On the other side - there was really no way to bring the height down - so I just trimmed back the snow bank to widen the driveway. That side is very high - way higher than the cars.



Yesterday we had a couple more inches of sleet. It was hilarious fun trying to shovel this stuff. You would fill your shovel ... well not full - cuz that's just too heavy - then toss it up ontop of the pile. Like sand it would come right back down, along with the layer that was already there. It looked just like sand in an hourglass.

I was unable to help very much with the sleet removal due to a persnickety fever I had for the last couple days. My diligent wife handled the clean up like a champ (she also managed the roof stuff alone).
Tho she does keep asking about the maximum allowable NSAID dosage.

Today we are having an ice storm. There is really no way to clear ice (yay).

I say 'yay' for today - tho I imagine there will be much ice chipping in the days to come before the next scheduled storm, which I believe is Saturday.

With Ferris away I raided his room this morning. Luckily from all his years in various sports, his room is a treasure trove of ace bandages and appendage braces, not to mention all the prescription pain relief he never took (the man just fights through the pain).
By tonight we should be all wrapped up and fairly stoned.

a slippery slope

Apparently there is a massive storm blowing into the area tomorrow which will bring with it several more inches of snow and then a full day of ice on top of that.
This will be very heavy. A big concern here has been snow loads on roofs.
So far most of the collapses have been flat roofed buildings and sheds. But with a storm like this coming - this could change.

We were watching the news this morning and there were reports of people falling off their roofs and ending up in the hospital all over the area.
Perhaps these people have slightly underestimated their own capabilities or maybe they have forgotten that snow and ice can be slippery.

Our old colonial farm house has a pretty steep pitch to it. This not only helps keep the snow totals lower -but carries the load better.

The problem here is our much flatter lower roof which wraps around half the house.


There is some drifting, and parts of this roof never see the sun - this has us a little concerned. Concerned enough in fact to want to do something about it.
But -with the storm on the way early tomorrow morning, it leaves us no time to hire this job out.

I am working from home today - so my arthritic wife has forbid me to do anything about this until she gets home this evening.
(tee hee)
What makes a dangerous job more fun? That's right, do it in the dark. Might even be better if we were drunk - but I have enough trouble with ladders sober, so we may pass on that.

Unfortunately I don't think we'll be able to get pictures of the project in progress... unless of course the news crews get here in time.

speechless

who needs words - when you have a shovel.

It's only a matter of time

We have had some melting here so the snow depths are lessening. Just after the melting came a deep freeze.
We woke up the other morning to a balmy -5°.
That freeze solidified the damp, packed snow into a couple of feet of ice.

This ice is now solid enough to hold up a person - or say... a large dog.
Our large FREE dog has figured that out and is quite pleased not to have be doing her business in the man made paths anymore.

I wonder tho - how long it will take her to figure out the fence is essentially less than two feet tall now.

No...seriously..

we shoveled again this morning. apparently there's more coming on Tuesday.



I took some pictures a few days back, or was it weeks? or was it yesterday.
O well, either way I thought I might like to look back on these.
We'll just call this they year we didn't need the gym.

I should also mention our star shoveler - Ferris, is soaking up the warmth, good food and good times in Florence. He simply bought a ticket, got on a plane, and now he has a little efficiency with a roommate and he is doing some pick up work for a guy he met out there when he did study abroad last year.
He can only stay 3 months without a work visa.
He said before he got on the plane "I have three months to find a wife."


Ok - back out to widen the driveway now.


trying to shovel a path for the 90lb FREE dog


when it hit 2 feet we made the first pass at clearing.


note that our fence is 4 feet tall.


we realized after the storm that we may need to clear more snow - unless the patio was to become her outhouse.

and so we made some paths with the snowthrower.

sorry... have I not been blogging?
That's because I spend all my free time shoveling snow.