Not much to write about today; I got a bad night’s sleep and I’m kind of groggy this afternoon. We have a new washing machine, although the hoses left in the house are leaky—a trip to the store will fix that. But we are celebrating, because both of us have piles of dirty laundry to wash about a mile high. Tomorrow, the BG&E guys should come back out to mark the panel in the basement, so then I can start deconstructing what goes where and updating it.
(spitting my vodka tonic out all over the keyboard.)
This is a great take on the current filesharing bullshit war, courtesy of Orson Scott Card (and /.)
It looks as if hurricane Isabel is going to kick the crap out of the East Coast, which bodes well for our planned flight to Texas for JP’s wedding. Time to check on Southwest’s weather policy.
In other news, Todd found and told me about the Rejuvenation House Parts website, which deals in new-manufacture lighting for old houses. This stuff is not cheap, but damn, what fine-looking products they have. I’d much rather spend the money on something like this instead of some drippy cut-crystal chandelier at a local “lighting store”.
Today I focused on the Pink room (more commonly known by its moniker to the left there) and began to look at the issues to tackle there. Friday I ordered some plaster washers from the maker—and there’s a good Sunday project for you: Try walking into a Home Depot and asking for “plaster washers” to anybody in an orange apron. The grizzled ex-plumber guys will keep asking you if you mean “plastic washers” and point you to the aisle of Crappy Replacement Parts For Cheap Faucets; the manly Hardware guys will blink at you, ask the same question, and send you back to Plumbing to bother those guys so they can return to hitting on the hot 19-year-old cashier at the Tool Corral. Turns out you have to go to the The Old House site, find the link to the maker/distributor, and buy them online (at $12 per 120.)
But I digress.
The bulge in the G-spot is pretty huge, so it’s probably going to take about 119 of those 120 washers to hold it in place; otherwise there are some minor cracks and small dings to be repaired, but the room isn’t in half-bad shape. One coat of Kilz and several million dead brain cells later, and the Pink room is sort of a sloppy off-white. The Anxious room is becoming increasingly less so as we move along; with a coat of white Kilz on the cieling, a sparkling cleaning job on the fixture, and about 20 lb. of patching plaster, it doesn’t look half-bad. Yesterday I yanked off all the trim from the kickplates to see what it’s like under there; the answer is that they did a decent job of putting the plaster on (contrasted with the half-ass job at 620, where the plaster didn’t make it all the way to the floor.) Which makes future installation of electrical lines that much harder. Oh, well.
Meanwhile, the Presbetyrian Church across the street has fixed their bells, so right now, at 6PM, it’s pleasantly ringing here in my backyard.
I like it here.
Today we drove down to pick up the Taurus from my mechanic, who’s had it at his shop for a month. Ordinarily that would be a problem, but because we were in the middle of moving hell that entire period, it really worked out for the best. When last we left our heroes, it had broke down on the side of the road on our way down to swap it with the Saturn. At that time, the steering was pulsing at any effort to turn the wheel, the left rear tire had a slow leak, the car was stalling at idle, and the engine was overheating. I drove it home this afternoon and it felt like a new car. The steering is tight and stable, the alignment is straight, and the engine seems to have found a happy operating temperature.
Last night we had our friends Matt and Emily over for dinner and to show them the house (and to give them their wedding present, two years overdue. Bad Bill.) We went to our favorite Thai restaurant and had a few Singhas and then returned home to have a few vodka tonics. This morning I remembered why malt beer and vodka do not mix—it was a slow morning for me.
Meanwhile, we started patching the plaster on the walls in the Anxious room, and Jen cleaned the cut glass light fixture (let’s face it, its not big enough to be a chandelier). The fixture looks completely different now that it’s clean, and it throws beautiful patterns of light when it has a 100 watt bulb. Unfortunately the 80-year-old wall switch broke in the “on” position while we were testing it, so we’ll have to wait until the BG&E guys come back to mark the panel before we fix that.
About the only planned attack on America that happened yesterday was the concentrated programming of 9/11 retrospective, first-person, documentary, and “very special episodes” on TV last night. Thank God, at least I can turn the TV off.
BG&E came out to estimate installation of new electrical wiring this morning; they quoted $900 for the ground floor and $2700 for the upstairs. Yeesh. The ground floor would be doable if I didn’t have a lot of irons in the fire, but the upstairs is a different matter. That’s going to have to wait until spring, unless money starts falling from the sky.
In other news, Mr. Johnny Cash is dead at 71. I think that just about every contemporary recording artist should start a fund to build some kind of temple for him in the desert like they did for the ancient kings of Egypt, and inter him in a sarcophagus of black gold. Or build for him a Viking warship, place him on the deck, and send it off to Valhalla under a full moon. Because they owe him big. Rest in Peace, man.
Verizon called us this morning to let us know we have DSL connectivity. After a not-so-quick online setup process, I was able to set the SMC Barricade and the Airport Base Station up to provide wireless access throughout the house. Thank God.
Jen braved the fumes yesterday and put a coat of Kilz on the Sticky room walls before she was overcome; I followed her up there with a coat on the cieling and then on the walls in the Anxious room. Both rooms look about a million times better with an even coat of paint. Next, we patch and sand up the cracks in the plaster, pull the baseboards to upgrade the electrical wiring, and seal the trim. Boy, it’s going to suck to paint the whole house with that crap.
In sadder news, this past Monday Renie had to put Bear down for his own good. Everybody say a kind word for the god who watches over dogs.
Stuck in my head this morning (after I forcefully kicked “We’ve Only Just Begun” by the Carpenters to the curb. Don’t ask, because I don’t know how it got in there): “These Are The Reasons”, by Soul Coughing. Not that I even know that’s the name of the song, or what it could be, because the S-C website is offline and the site linked above has no record of this song title.
So sick, it’s wrong. Jen has obviously missed broadband connectivity
badly in the months she’s been out of work. Today I got these
instructions from her: “Do an image
search on Google for Corey Haim and look at the third
picture.” Pardon me now, while I attempt to staunch the
flow of blood from my burning eyesockets.
Until the whole chain went belly-up in an ugly case of corporate mismanagement, I used to walk to the Bibelot bookstore down in Canton to grab a cup of coffee and browse the new books. Usually I’d find something interesting, sit in a big chair, and read through the majority of it until either my eyes got tired or the kid came by to tap me on the shoulder at 11:45. About a year before I left the area, the store was emptied and lay silent, and my quiet zen pastime was lost. (and that zen was good to have after I split up with my girlfriend.)
This evening, I decided to walk across the street to the Catonsville Library to see what their selection was like, and to sign up for my first library card in ten years. I was pleasantly surprised by the selection, the atmosphere, and the computer facilities. The new fiction racks are filled with good hardcover books, the library is staffed by helpful volunteers and filled with people of all ages, and the computers are all current, working terminals with dedicated laser printers. In about three minutes, my Dewey Decimal days came back and I navigated to the computer learning section, where I found not only a good Powerpoint book (the reason for my visit—I have a freelance gig tomorrow) but an OSX book I’ve been wanting to buy, a book on CSS, and an autobiography of Gene Kranz, the former flight director at NASA.
The library also features a historical section with records of old Catonsville, so that Jen and I can research the house to find out what it originally looked like, who built it, and who first owned it.
Speaking of houses, the soulless, brick rancher across the street is on the market for $65K more than we paid for this house. That makes the energy bill sticker shock a little easier to take.
I love the fact that the water is soft, cool, fresh, and clean (not hard, bitter, chlorine-y and dry.) I love the crickets that lull us to sleep each night. I love the space inside the house, where one can find peace in a large, quiet room by themself, or join a group of contented, sleepy cats. I love the light dappled across the back lawn in the afternoon. I love the sound of the kids in the church daycare program drifting across the street. I love the smell of history in the rooms of this house. I love the peeling paint on the windows, because the house is reminding me that it’s alive too, and it needs my help. I love the trees towering over the roof, keeping us cool in the summer sun. I love the wooden floors that don’t creak under us. I love the waves in the plaster from where the workmen applied it by hand eighty years ago. I love the drawings on the walls, hidden under the wallpaper, from children of long ago. I love our two-tub sink in the kitchen. I also love having three hose spigots outside.
I don’t love the fact that the average monthly energy bill for the house was $280, according to BG&E. It could be several things that have run the price up—excessive use of the heating system during the winter (and heating all those empty rooms couldn’t have been cost-efficient), excessive use of the 20-year-old air conditioners, use of an ancient electric oven/range, or just having left the lights on all the time. Whatever the cause, Jen and I are going to become experts on energy efficiency this fall.
The update is that roughly 90% of the bill is for gas and the balance is for electric. We have to find out what drove the price up so high and make some improvements to save money. Ah, the joys of buying an older house.
Even better is the news that Verizon won’t have out DSL hooked up until the 17th, because of a “shortage of technicians”. Thanks. Dammit.
Found this afternoon, via the Rockhaus: Genuine Scooters, home of the Stella. Oh, man, this is cool. Even better are these pictures of a trip two friends took in 1953. Given my love for the design of old Vespa and Piaggio scooters, these are a sweet update on a classic ride. Maybe someday I can afford one.
Where do I start today? In the last 24 hours we’ve dodged a bunch of bullets (not literally), washed half of the house, found a window behind a picture, been visited by a bat, a field mouse, and a dog, and hauled away a ton of trash.
our little friend
1. Our good friend Dave stopped by on Sunday as we were returning from the Home Depot with a rented power washer in the Scout. Catonsville, being a neighborhood full of old houses and even older trees, was pretty well blitzed by Isabel; every third or fourth house had a major tree down in its yard, and the area was loud with chainsaws this weekend. We were lucky there wasn’t more damage. Dave and I hooked up the power washer and attempted to clean the siding on the house, which was a futile gesture. Dirt and mildew is up under the paint on the siding and no amount of pressure is going to change that. So we contented ourselves with cleaning the gutters, moving debris, and pulling two of the mountain laurels from the side of the driveway with the trucks; Dave produced a heavy chain and pulled the first one out with his truck Clifford, and then we pulled the other with the Scout. (Making the appropriate Tim the Tool Man noise here: Arr arr arr!)
2. While I ran out to find food for dinner, Dave pulled the older AC unit from the Sticky room window (on the west side) and he found a camping bat under the drip pan. Thinking it was probably dead, he and Jen got close to take some pictures, until it woke up with a mouthful of teeth and flew off. Not content with braving vampire death, they pulled the bulletin board off the wall in the waiting room to find the original window frame intact behind the wall. Needless to say, we were excited.
3. This morning Dave came back to haul away the combined trash, mattresses, and brushpiles I’ve been collecting since we moved in. We started by removing the debris from the dining room (the mural is now, sadly, gone) and when I knelt to pick up the smaller chunks of wood, I found a field mouse huddling underneath the pile. After a ten-minute atempt to capture it (with no help from an indifferent Teller) we got it in a pint glass and set it free outside.
4. As I stood on the pair of mattresses in the back of Dave’s truck, looking out the driveway, I spied a tiny Jack Russel terrier running down Beechwood (the road directly across from our house), across Frederick Road—oblivious to the morning traffic—and past the truck behind us. He ran into the garage to explore, and I coaxed him into my hands where I could read his dog tag: Chico Pachico, 455-XXXX. We called his humans and a nice perfumed lady showed up about 10 minutes later, happy to see him in good hands (and full of Pounce cat treats.) He was moving too fast to take a picture.
5. Dave has made the huge piles of brush from the front, side, and back yards go bye-bye. Halleluejah, amen.
OK, This is pretty cool.
Also up for bids: UNKLE has released their second album, a follow-up to 1998’s Psyence Fiction, the album that blew me away completely. I found a link to some previews on a UK music site, and this will be an album I buy when it shows up on the Apple Music Store. (Hurry, Apple.)
After that weekend, I’m pretty beat. I ate about three pounds of Jen’s homemade lasagna last night and had two glasses of red wine, and slept the sleep of the dead. There’s nothing like an honest tired. I posted a new series of photos with some before/after shots of the upstairs bedroom, and some selected shots from around the house.
Hmm. Apple just released a new series of iPods, so now the offerings are 10, 20, and 40GB. The 20 might just be the one for me, if and when I can afford it. Drool.
If all goes well, tomorrow Verizon should be flipping the switch on our DSL service, so we’ll have broadband at the house. It’s been a very strange experience to go without it for the past three weeks, sort of like losing cable. If there’s a question about a movie (“Who’s the guy who plays the bad guy in this piece of crap?”) or about one of our appliances (“How the hell do we make this thing stop beeping?”) or how to garden in something larger than a clay pot (“What the hell do we do with this stupid bush?”), the Cat-5 umbilical is not available. What did we do before the Internet?