Wow, its been quiet around here lately. The news of the day is that Jen has a shiny new MacBook Pro to replace her Mini, which died a quiet death during a system update a few weeks ago. Its carcass has been sitting on my shelf for the past few weeks while I got other stuff off my plate, and now that Ive got some time I pulled a spare SATA drive from my cache and slapped it in the case. It started right up and seems to be running fine, so I upgraded the OS on the disk to Snow Leopard, downloaded a copy of Plex, and got it started indexing the catalog on the server in our basement. The server app doesn’t work like a true app, in that it seems to run as a daemon (once running it does not appear in the Dock) and has no preference settings I can find. The Client app disables the menubar and responds to a remote or the arrow keys on a keyboard. It’s reasonably fast, did a quick job of cataloging music and movies, and plays the majority of our catalog without complaint. However, the UI lists movies pulled in from other source channels that we don’t own, which was mystifying at first. I also hunted high and low for an option to install a plugin for the Netflix channel but came up empty-handed. Netflix and Hulu would be our two most commonly used channels, and if I can’t get plugins for them the point is moot.
All of the windows on the west side of the house (with the exception of the attic) have been scraped, glazed, painted, and washed, which is a huge relief. Theyve been crying out for attention since the day we moved in, and in the last two years Ive stood by as the glazing has slowly dried out and fallen from the panes in chunks. I took advantage of the Good Friday weekend to wrap that project up as well as clean up the basement windows, the front door molding, the back porch roof, and a variety of other smaller tasks.
We’re having the babysitter back in tomorrow night so that Jen and I can go out and see the Hunger Games, which is exciting. It’s been years since the two of us have been to see a movie together, and we’re looking forward to this one.
I’ll try to keep up appearances here, seeing as I’m averaging at least one full post a week. Our weekend started off with a fantastic Friday surprise from Jen: a strange car in the driveway, owned by a babysitter, who watched Finn while she took me out to dinner. We hit the new fancy Chinese restaurant by the H-Mart and chose from the traditional menu, which meant I was served something very close to chicken stir-fry and she was served a fish the size of an ironing board. It was all very tasty (except for our appetizer, which looked pretty when our waiter pointed at the picture but turned out to be slices of beef tendon with some kind of pain-inducing hot sauce). I think we’ll consult some experts before returning to try again.
From there we went to the Pure Wine Cafe in Ellicott City and enjoyed an evening of uninterrupted adult conversation with each other over drinks and dessert. Do you know what it’s like to have a three-year-old breaking in every 30 seconds? I’ll try to simulate it in the next paragraph.
Saturday I had to sleep off a wicked hangover, missing Finn’s dance
DADDY, CAN YOU FIX THIS? My mouses broke it.
practice, but I rallied at lunchtime and
It’s STILL BROKEN!
went to buy mulch at the Middle School, making two trips totaling 60 cubic yards. Finn followed me around the yard as I raked,
My Ox is playing a game. It’s called… Boobly-doobly. Do you want to play?
bagged, mulched, and straightened the front hedge, while Jen
Mama! Daddy! Bubbleguppies!
concentrated on the back beds. We spent
BUBBLEGUPPIES, MAMA!
a little time at the neighbors’ after the sun went
BUUUUUUUBBBBLLLLE GUUUUUPPPIIIES!
down, watching the kids play and standing around the firepit. Then Christi and Glenn stopped over to drop off corned beef and
*sigh* My mouses are mad at you, Daddy.
cabbage (it’s a long story), and we caught up with them before putting Finn to bed.
Sunday started out with church. After we got home, we straightened up the house and got Finn ready for her dance recital. She did really well for the tap portion of the program; she stood in her spot and danced to her own beat while the other girls either ignored the teacher, followed her direction, or stared out into the crowd with blank expressions. At the end of the song, she realized her tap shoe was untied and became upset; I tied it for her and sent her backstage to get changed, but the cumulative lack of naps had finally caught up with her. When she came out for the ballet portion, she was crying. She stood rooted to one spot, tears streaming down her face, and refused to dance at all; when the song was over I walked up, gave her a hug, and sent her backstage again, my heart breaking. Jen went backstage to calm her down, and we cut out quickly after the program ended. She seemed to recover pretty well and ten minutes later had forgotten all about the episode. However, I don’t think we’ll be going back to dance class anytime soon.
After a meal of corned beef and cabbage, Jen surprised me again with a wonderful chocolate cake from the baker down the street. Apart from Finn’s distress, I couldn’t imagine a better birthday weekend.
We had our kitchen installed in 2005, and when we speced it out, I didn’t know much about granite countertops or their installation. And as it turned out, the company that was hired to install it did a shitty job. So much so that I’ll call them out: Kitchens That Rock (interestingly, their BBB rating is still A+, but their website is nonexistent). They’re in Frederick. Avoid them.
What’s supposed to happen is: the countertop gets delivered, flipped over, channeled out for the sink, and clips are epoxied onto the bottom, which then screw the underside of the sink to the stone. What happened in our kitchen: they dropped the granite on top of the cabinets, tacked the sink to the underside of the stone with drywall screws and scraps of wood, and then it was Miller Time. I thought the scraps of wood were there to hold epoxy in place, until a couple of years later, when the sink had pulled away from the stone and started bowing in the middle and smelling funny, and I realized there was no epoxy. I called, and had a representative of the company come out to look at the job. He dicked around under the sink, farted around with the scraps of wood, told us it was fixed, and left. It was only then that I did some research and realized we’d been screwed twice, but I didn’t want those assclowns coming back into our house. So, shame on me.
Fast forward to yesterday, when a nice man from Milestone came in, looked over the sink, shook his head sadly, and got to work making things right. They drilled channels, installed clips, told us the sink we’d been advised to buy was made from too thin a gauge of steel, and left, for a very reasonable price. Hopefully the sink is fixed for good now, and we won’t have any more problems with leakage, mildew or funny smells under the sink.
I’m a little (well, a lot) hung over this morning; I helped my neighbor fire up his first batch of homebrew last night, and we kicked it off with a bottle of something that kicked me. All I remember of the label was that it was 11.9% ABV, which is enough to make me silly; then we shared a bottle of Pearl Jam Twenty, which was tasty but not my favorite. The brew went really well; he has a new floor-standing propane burner and we stood around it shivering in the garage, then transferred it into the fermenter as the Ravens started losing in the second quarter.
In related news, my batch of Dead Ringer IPA is just about ready for a move to the secondary fermenter, and if all goes well I’ll finally have the hose and tank setup sometime this week. I have to buy a jar of commercial cleaner and get my keg washed and resealed for the batch when it’s ready, but that can wait until the week after Christmas.
This is the latest addition to the home computer fleet: a used (and free) Lampshade iMac, circa 2002. I’ve already had it torn down once to drop a new hard drive in, and it will need a new optical drive as well (the unit it came with is not reading discs). It can only run up to OS 10.4, but it recognizes large drives and has a built-in monitor, so I’m going to repurpose it as a music server and swap out the trusty old G4 tower sitting under my desk at work.
Sunday afternoon I started work in the coal cellar putting up studs for insulation. I noticed a huge temperature drop the first time I opened the door, so I know it’s still not sealed up properly. The first order of business was to mix up a bunch of hydraulic cement and plug numerous little holes in the foundation as well as a crack running down the wall from the corner of the coal chute. Once that was done, I installed studs along the east wall and got about 1/2 of the south wall done before I ran out of lumber. I figure about four more 2×4’s and two rolls of new R-19 should do the trick. I also stuffed the coal chute full of insulation and found a sheet of plywood to nail up over the opening to cut off the airflow. Once the wall batts are up, I can put the overhead insulation back in place and call that room sealed. Then, hopefully, the den will stay warm.
After 86 years of faithful service, our slate roof shingles are lining the bottom of a dumptruck, to be replaced with heavy tarpaper and 30-year asphalt shingle. I’m really, really sad to see it go, but we just can’t afford the crippling cost of replacing it with new slate or faux recycled material.
As they’ve been working their way around the house, the roof guys have found that the fascia on the first floor porch is toast, as well as the fascia behind the second floor in front. The original plan was to have the rear second-floor elevation replaced, but it’s looking like we’re going to wind up with new gutters on almost all of the house. It’s been eight years coming, and it will no doubt wind up being more expensive than I’d anticipated, but I will be relieved to go into the winter with a new roof and modern drainage.
Much to discuss, much to review. This week has been a rough one for Finn, who started out with a virus before the holiday which worked its way into a viral bronchial infection on our way back from the grandparents’ house. Early Friday morning, Finn woke me up after a bad dream, and I laid down beside her to help get her back to sleep. She tossed and turned and fussed for hours, and complained of a headache while I grumpily pleaded with her to go to sleep. The next day, she was diagnosed with blisters on her eardrums, as a continuing symptom of the infection. Finding this out, and remembering her sleepy complaints of a headache in the early morning made me feel awful. She’s powered through something that would probably have laid most other kids on their backs, and continues to amaze me with her strength.
We’ve started our Christmas earlier than ever this year; the Boy Scouts at the stand across the street sold us a beautiful Frazier Fir which looks perfect in the hallway, and I put our candles up in the office and around the corner in the den. Usually we wait until the last week or so before Christmas, but we decided we needed some Christmas cheer up in this bitch as soon as we could get it. Sunday night we hung lights and ornaments, and this evening’s craft project will be to make some paper chains and other decorations with Finn to further brighten things up.
The pile of holly branches clogging the edges of our driveway is now gone; I made two trips to the dump in the Scout and then stopped off at the Home Depot to pick up lumber for the coal cellar insulation project. There’s been no progress on that front since I shot the Tigerfoam, but with temperatures dipping below freezing these days, the need to get it done is greater than ever.
Sunday afternoon we walked across the street for church, and Finn and I walked downstairs after the Childrens’ mass to play with the other kids. There was a little separation anxiety, but after Mrs. Kirsten and I reassured her we’d be back, she wandered off with the other kids to see what they could play with.
After church was the Big Dance Recital, which went off as well as could be expected. A total of four different groups of girls came out and each did a routine while trying to simultaneously avoid bumping into each other, follow the teacher, and ignore 200 people crowded around the stage holding blinky cameras and cellphones. Finn stared out into the crowd like a deer caught in headlights until she saw Mama and I, and her face brightened like the glow of a thousand suns as she waved. She then mostly ignored the instructor, sticking mostly to interpretive dance and standing still. We couldn’t have been prouder.
A busy weekend is behind us; we spent Saturday out in Easton with the Morris clan, eating delicious food and hiking through a nature preserve. Finn missed her nap on the way over (we left from her dance class) and crashed about mid-afternoon, which meant I carried her for most of the hike. The trees were in full color, and the entire trip was bathed with golds, yellows, and greens just beginning to turn.
Back at the homestead, we finally took a saw to the holly tree in the front yard, trimming the bottom 5′ back to the trunk; it’s amazing how much it opens up the front yard. I hauled brush, mowed the lawn, painted a cabinet, fixed the upstairs sink, and tore the passenger-side exhaust down on the Scout to find I need a new gasket above the heat riser; I think I’m going support my Light Line dealers and wrap that purchase in with new shop manuals.
I also tried the IPA on Saturday evening, and I’m very, very pleased with the results. It’s rich, full-flavored, and has no trace of caramel or molasses undertones. I brought some next door to the neighbors’ for the Sunday evening football game, and he agreed with me. I’m hoping this will be the motivation he needs to buy supplies to brew himself.
The big honkin’ HP LaserJet is now installed and running at work; after cracking it open, cleaning off the transfer drum and installing new cartridges the other day, it’s printing much, much cleaner and seems to be happier. I have to haul the Phaser back to the house and set it up somewhere quiet, but I’m not looking forward to humping it up the stairs.
Compare and Contrast:
Let’s see.
- Our hand-me-down IKEA shelf is assembled and in the den (temporarily).
- The coal cellar has been de-insulated and shot with Tigerfoam, as well as the southeast corner of the basement.
- The 4,000 ton color printer is broken down and loaded in the Scout, ready to be driven to work.
- The server is high and dry in the front corner of the basement.
- Finn made it to dance class during the middle of the ice storm.
- There’s 5 gallons of Pumpkin Ale fermenting in the basement.
- My DJ Lance costume is assembled and ready for tomorrow.
I got about two cases of IPA bottled last night, after a brief panic about bottlecaps. In an hour, I’d washed and sanitized three cases of bottles but only counted out 49 bottlecaps. A quick text to Mr. Scout confirmed I could stick any remainder in a growler for the short-term, but as it turned out I only got about 4½ gallons from the fermenter. After siphoning off the good stuff, that was down to about 4¼ and I had three fingers of sludge at the bottom, two of which were good but muddy beer. I bottled the clear stuff and added a little sugar to the mud, bottling that separately and marking the caps. I figure it’ll settle in a few weeks and the last few sips will have extra, uh, flavor.
I also ordered more Tigerfoam for the basement, which should come in in the next week or so. The plan is to shoot the outside sill of the coalroom and any remaining sill in the basement that didn’t get hit on the first pass, then use any remainder for the wall back in the coalroom. Then I’ll put up kneewalls and insulate to try and keep the heat inside.
What a difference the right cough medicine makes. First I tried the CVS knockoff of Robitussin, which did absolutely zero for my cough, increased my snot output from six tissues an hour to twelve, and made my throat hurt worse. Then I tried Mucinex, which was exactly what I didn’t need. Let’s just say that my nose was not meant to expel that much fluid, ever. I went back to Dayquil, and life is good again.
A few weeks ago, during the height of Hurricane Irene, a big tree landed on our friends’ porch, flattening it. While we were blessed to have escaped the storm with no damage, we wanted to do anything we could to help them, so I offered my back and our truck to get it into a dumpster as quickly as possible.
Saturday morning I loaded up the Scout with the Sawzall and an assortment of heavy demolition tools, and found a group of men discussing strategy from underneath the fallen roof. We lightened the free-standing side by removing shingles, then split it in half with a chainsaw and broke up the clean side.
The heavy side was another problem. It came down and wedged itself between the house and one of the concrete pillars, with the pivot point directly above the door—a beautifully restored Craftsman, surrounded by original stained glass. After some discussion, I suggested putting a rope on it and pulling it off with the Scout, which wound up being the plan.
Five minutes of tying knots, a minute to spin the hubs, a light foot on the gas, and the whole thing pivoted up and on to the pillars. We adjusted the ropes and I pulled it off onto the lawn, where we broke it up and had it into the dumpster by noon.
After finishing up there, I headed home and did some Scout maintenance while waiting for the roofing guy. I installed some snaps on the soft top, wire-wheeled and POR-15’d some rust areas, tried scooting the Tuffy console forward, and pulled the drivers’ door panel off to make sure the linkage was working correctly.
The roofing guy brought his proposal over, and it looks really good. I like this guy, he has a BBB A+ rating, and my neighbor (anal retentive in a good way) recommended him. We’re going for it. I’ll be very, very sad to see the slate go, but happier to have a 30-year roof with a ridge vent in place for winter.
Today I helped another friend move his office out of his basement and into a converted church in Oella; between moving computers and running wire and testing equipment, I spent six hours making sure things go smoothly for him on Monday. When I got home, my girls had returned from Southern Maryland with St. Mary’s County ham, fried oysters, and several sides from the fall dinner, which I’d missed. Thank you ladies!
In other news, my IPA is in a secondary fermenter with the hops, and will be there for another two weeks. Im looking at a pumpkin ale for batch #5, and my neighbor (he of the commercial kegerator) is going to give me his single regulator as well as sell me his C02 tank so that he can upgrade. So I may be able to keg the IPA when it’s ready, depending on the timing.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.