but wait ....there's more

I may have forgotten to mention that at the same time we are remodeling the attached garage to become studio space --we are also adding a screened porch to the back yard.

We live by a salt marsh...

Ideally I had wanted to screen the entire property.

After much consideration and several glasses of Cabernet, we determined this was, in fact, not practical.
So we'll settle for a small room where we can put a table and maybe a rocker.

Here are some progress shots.

more updates soon.
they are working fast!

progress!

Progress on the construction project.

After MUCH consideration, debate, research, waffling, deciding, looking at pictures and changing of minds - we finally made a decision on what to replace the garage door with.

There were many factors to consider, with a big one being price.
We quickly found out that would could get literally anything our imaginations thought up ...for a price.
If we wanted to be able to continue to say...eat - we may have to compromise a bit.
Here is where we ended up:

Before:

 
After (unfinished, and without the handles installed yet):

On the bright side?

We are no strangers to living in a house under construction/remodeling.

It's not for the faint of heart.

Furniture is temporarily strewn about rooms while its original location lies in rubble and dust. You step over things without even thinking. The vacuum is a permanent fixture in the middle of the dining room. There is a fine layer of dust on EVERYthing - even tho you keep wiping and wiping. The screens outside, nearest ground zero are laden with sawdust, muddying the view. Of course you don't dare to open those windows...not that it really helps. The yard is wet and gooey where the grass has been disturbed or removed. The dog gravitates to the expanses of moist dirt - why o why. And so there are muddy towels always to be found near the door, the vain attempt to keep outside out.

The bright side? Well... it makes entertaining a breeze. Gone are the days of keeping the house tidy and clean. No picking up, no dusting. O sure there is daily vacuuming - can you tell? Stuff is piling up on all horizontal surfaces. Its as if nothing has a place anymore. The disruption is infectious.

Drop ins are welcome - we just don't care. Watch your step please.

Bucking up

Work on the studio project is moving along. Its rather nice just having people show up everyday and do stuff.

This is the back of the house where they cut a giant hole into the brick.
Today they are doing cementy things out in the backyard.

In the meantime - I had recently lamented that the project we had started in the house had gone awry when my menapausal hormones decided I could not handle this heavy work.

To quell these hormones I used some wine... and hired someone to pull out some of the heavy, hard to manage stuff from the room.

Then ...we took the job back.

I am (yet again) painting the basement walls. We're using UGL Drylock on the cinder block walls. Its a great product, and the walls look nice and clean. This paint actually has cement mixed into it. This helps with moisture seapage through the block. Its kinda like painting with peanut butter, tho not as tasty. You can have the product tinted - but I want to stick with nice pure, clean white. Ahh white.

Then we (read 'we' as mostly my spunky-wife) tiled the floor with the least ugly of the cheapest tiles we could find at our local big box stores.

She is quite good at it.

This small room is done now and I was able to move my tools back in.

Here are the before and afters:

hideous, scary chaos

 

ahhh...

 

ew

 

much better

next up....
the laundry room:

project work at the little house by the marsh

I have failed to post about all the construction, remodeling, landscaping, swearing, crying, painting, scraping, digging, sanding, sweeping, drinking, and washing we have done here so far.

I want to.
I want record it all.
For posterity.
For me.
But - it seems that with the end of each project or task comes a new one on its heels. They have mounted up in a heap now, and I am so far behind that I became paralyzed.

Today I throw my paralysis to the wind. Who cares if I am starting in the middle (or the end?). Just start. Today is now.

ok. so.
Monday we started renovation on the one car attached garage.

Seen here on move-in-day last July. Ew. That isn't even our crap in there.

You see, one of my 'had to haves' when we were house shopping last year was a two car garage.
This house didn't have that. We liked the house anyway (what were we thinking.. more stories to come)

And so...

The (my) garage is now almost complete - we are landscaping (by we, I mean my hardy-wife - you can see her wheel barrow there) and still need electric.

Since I am too lazy to actually get out of the car to open a garage door. This winter I ran an extension cord across the back yard into the basement. I am so clever.





Converting the one car garage to a studio was also part of the original plan when we looked at the house.

Sadly this renovation has been idle all winter...


Happily it is no longer idle.
(seen here after being gutted- new rafters installed to allow for insulation and lofted ceiling -more pics coming as we make progress) 


I have lived with this enchanting artistic woman for ...well most of my life now... and in all this time she has never enjoyed a true studio space. In our last house we shuffled her from basement to garage to backyard to front porch to back bedroom. Never a space that was hers. Never a space that could really be called 'the studio'.

I have longed for many many years for her to have one (o sure... I bet she was longing too).

And so finally... after all this time -- well in a couple more weeks...

My love, my best friend, this amazing artist will finally have a space.
A space to be creative, and enlightened.
To paint, to draw, to cut glass, to sip wine, to chortle, to dream, to inspire, to be.

she picked me

My adorable wife was catching up on my sparse blog posts the other nite.
Noting how my last post fit so nicely into the 'my blog is my diary' concept.

Hey... she picked me...

to win?

On my commute into work this morning I concluded that some people seemed threatened by merging traffic.

Threatened to the point where they need to block other drivers from simply merging in from an on-ramp.
I believe this keeps other drivers from 'winning'.

To stay out ahead of the race, I notice some drivers will follow very close to the driver ahead so as to not allow any evil merging cars to get in front of them.  This assures them a front spot - well... ignoring the thousands of people already in front of them of course.

Others are so clever as to pull their cars to the right, into the active merge lane, to block the evil oncoming commuters from moving forward where they may find a spot to merge in ahead of them. This causes lots of people to get backed up, mucking up the entire merge process, and therefore is a big win.




To top off this mornings commute, a woman in front of me in a very large, high end (am i judging?...) gleaming white SUV tossed her cigarette out the window.
Really?
Really people?

the change?

Let's face it.
I'm 50.
Half a freakin' century. A century is a really long time.

So this weekend when I began a new demo/remodel project in the basement, I not only quickly realized I was in over my head - I got weepy about it.

Seriously.
Luckily... being 50 has the added advantage of being able to afford professional help in such matters.
My choices would be - a therapist to help me work through my issues, a doctor to prescribe some sort of hormonal replacement, or a handyman to do the job I am clearly too old to do.

I bucked up and hired the handyman.

My workshop...before the makeover (yes. its that messy... can you believe this is in MY house)

after pics to come...

my diary

Somehow I keep forgetting that the thing I love most about blogging is being able to look back and remember how I did something or when it happened.
So now - with over a year of sporadic posting I am completely confused.
It's really like the ultimate list. Weese LOVES lists.

Excuse me while I go review my previous early spring lawn posts.

yet another reason why...

I think this has gone too far people.
Last night on TV I was asked to 'like' kotex.

Really...

AARP defined

Ferris, with his fancy new job, has been shipped 'across the pond' for a couple weeks of work training.
He's got himself a fancy flat on the Thames.
He invited his free-spirited mother to fly over and meet him for a couple few days of sight seeing and general merriment. I had work obligations that kept me from tagging along. Which I am fine with, a couple/few days of projects around the house makes weese very happy.

As she packed and prepared the night before she handed me a little notebook. In it were all her logins and passwords.
You know... just in case.

Ah, yes - 50+.
We have arrived.

Correction

From the editor: I blogged recently about my big brother.

At some point in the past - I shared my blog address with my big brother.
He remembered.

"Hi Bubba!!"

In my post, I talked about his struggles through high school and college.
His struggles were written in my pen.
From my memories.
My memories of him, and our childhoods.

Today in the mail I received a card from my brother with this simple note inside:

Thought this might

surprise you after

reading your blog.

       Love, Bubba

tucked into the card was this:

Kinda lends a little credibility to this quote from that same blog post:

"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."

I love that Bubba.

a picture is worth...

We received some very special valentine cards from our nieces yesterday.

It makes me wonder

Do you ever wonder if there are seagulls sitting on top of your house?

Because I do.

Because I want to know...

Why would a grown-up twitter?

weekend breakfast

An unseasonably warm winter has made for a great morning walks to the water where we can toss rocks into the Sound and enjoy some breakfasty goodness.
Did you know that EVERYTHING tastes better when dunked in syrup.

wisdom

Our dear friend the Rabbi will reply to the question:
"How are you?"
with
"I am only as happy as my least happy child."

This is a deep truth.

It could explain our dizzying joy.

Ferris has landed a job.
A good job.

No longer will he be pouring cocktails at night and slogging around A/C duct work during the day.
Rather he'll sport a suit, and get on a train, and get off at Wall Street.

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...

:/