1000 words
If a picture is worth 1000 words, this entry ought to be worth 14K. Few words, lots of pictures. The subjects? Bees & trees.
I'm really standing at the base there.
Makes me look small. 16 hours before TIMBER!!!!!
What I saw when I came home for lunch.
Timber!!
View from the porch. We were afraid the 100+ ty old tree was going to land on the porch. The base was eroding pretty badly.
Laying the base down to rest.
Look Ma! No tree!!
Bees
Bee access was at the bottom of the shingle at the end of the yellow eave.
The hole I used to deliver massive doses of Raid the evening before this pic was taken.
First look at the whole hive.
Those roof rafters are 24″ on center
That an of Raid is all of 10″ tall. That was one of 5 cans I used.
Yellow Jackets – the Next Generations.
All Done!
Da Bomb . . .
Day 1739 Da Bomb!
I has pichurs!! Remind me to bust them loose before the end of the post wouldja? (No Q, no HNT stuff for you. Yet. Maybe.)
The weekend was productive. That was helped immensely by the gorgeous weather we enjoyed up here in the north east. That was our payback for a shitty winter – we got nice holiday weather. Temps in the 70’s, mostly sunny, light breeze – great painting weather.
Painting the porch occupied the vast majority of the weekend. Finished priming, got the first coat complete on the outside. Got some pictures of the progress. It’s really looking nice. Even managed to get some of the foundation planting in. It’s a little earlier than I’d like, what with some painting left to do, but potted plants just don’t do well. They require so much more watering. Of course, now we’re in for 3 or 4 days of rain so no worries there (figures!).
The weekend was not without it’s drama too. I’ve mentioned here that Cindy has been ‘slipping’ of late, and I think she thought that my not mentioning it meant that everything was peachy. Well. Friday evening, I refused to go out to dinner, opting to order in instead. My reason? She’d been sneaking drinks all afternoon. She wasn’t totaled, but she was at that point where she couldn’t stop offering information, thought she was being so open & friendly and couldn’t shut the fuck up. Plus she starts to adopt this fake Delaware accent (yes, they have an accent there, at least compared to us normal folks) and you know motor skills degradation is not far off.
So I just suggested we order “to go” from a local joint. She was pissed, but considering she was drunk, I didn’t much care. By Saturday, she was over it. We also worked our butts off Saturday. Sunday I got to painting early, putzed around with the pond a bit, and put ribs in the smoker. Had the whole fandamily coming over for a picnic that afternoon, to finally properly christen the porch. When my mom rolled in, I put the paint brushes away, showered up and got ready for the clan. Cindy? Was already priming her pump.
The porch christening was a smashing success. I had a few beers, my brothers had a few beers, the girls (SIL’s & nieces) had a glass or two of wine, my boys and their girls had a beer or two. Cindy pretty much kept up. But. She made sure her cocktails looked like iced tea. She had her wine out of in pewter water goblet (so did all the wine drinkers actually) and she wasn’t bashful about having a beer later on in the evening. I said nothing about it at the time. No sense calling her out in front of a crowd.
But. Monday morning we had our couples therapy session. Scheduling-wise, Cindy had her 1 on 1 first, I chilled out in the waiting room doing the crossword puzzle (Monday NY times, in ink, thankyewvurymush) and reading. When I got called in for the couples part is when the Enola Gay took flight.
Janine (the counselor) asked hw things were going. Cindy offered up a “pretty good” while doing a good job of being cheery & upbeat. When it was my turn, I turned to Cindy and said “Do you know why I decided against going out to dinner Friday night? It’s because I didn’t want to spend a meal sitting in a restaurant with someone that had spent the afternoon drinking. I really don’t care to spend my time that way.” From there, I brought up how I’ve noticed she’s been drinking with increasing frequency, citing very specific examples. I mentioned how it made me feel uncomfortable and fear that she was headed right back down the path that would land her where she was (WE were) 2 years ago, and I didn’t want to go back there.
You can imagine the kind of awkward silence that followed. There was no outward denial. I never mentioned how much she drank, what she had, where her stash was hidden or how I could tell. I really didn’t force anything, just stated what I knew, how it made me feel, what it made me afraid of.
I think it hit pretty hard. After the dust settled, Cindy & Janine spent some more 1 on 1 time while I went back out to the waiting room. After a few minutes, I heard the outer door close and Janine asked me to come back t her office. Once there, she re-assured me that what I had done was ok, necessary and done about as gracefully as possible. (No small thanks to Annette and her reading recommendations.) Janine also mentioned that when working with couples, she normally sees each individual in one on one sessions to get a sense where each of them is coming from. Even though I’m seeing Annette, I agreed to at least one session with her, just to let her get a feel for where my head is – or what is (or isn’t) going on inside.
So that’s what I did on my Memorial Day Vacation. Painting, planting, ponding and protecting. As in protecting my boundaries. Cindy and I have talked about the simplest of things since then, but she’s ignored the provided openings into discussing what went down that morning. To the plus side – she’s been to meetings every evening since (including tonight). I’m trying to speed read a book titled something like “7 conversations to have that are key to a successful relationship” (or something like that) in an effort to figure out how to get a meaningful conversation started. Seems like it shouldn’t be so hard to do, but we are both at rather heightened anxiety levels and it’s difficult to talk about anything without worrying about hurting feelings, what the others reaction might be or even just being interested in engaging in something like that. (Did that make sense? Felt rather like a vowel movement.)
Subject change. Went to quitnet.com and looked up my not-smoking stats. Because I’ve been popsting so infrequently I actually forgot how many days it’s been. Here’s what they look like:
Quit Date: 8/22/2004 7:00:00 PM
Time Smoke-Free: 1738 days, 13 hours, 12 minutes and 46 seconds (as of 8:13am EDT 5/27/2009)
Cigarettes NOT smoked: 34771
Lifetime Saved: 8 months, 25 days, 14 hours
Money Saved: $7,095.12 (that’s at the old price of $4.08 a pack for the generics I smoked back then. Now, Cindy is paying closer to $7.50)
Stole this from Q, over there at <a href=”http://hookedonquack.blogspot.com/”>Hooked on Quack</a>. It’s from TMI Tuesday, and this is really too much. (Like the last page or so wasn’t too much already) Read on:
1. Before the industrial revolution, most people never traveled more than 30 miles from their home. How far from your birth place do you now live? From the house my parents lived in at the time, 3.7 miles. From the hospital in which I was born, 6.1 miles. From the house where I grew up, 5.4 miles. I G00gle mapped it. Furreels.
2. What is the farthest distance from home you have you have ever had sex or an orgasm? 1432 miles. What is there farthest distance you have traveled from your home to have a sexual encounter? For the specific purpose of getting it on? 11.7 miles. Unless you count coming home on leave while in the army, then it’s more like 2680 miles. (This is tough too. When in the service, I was 2680(ish) miles from home, but that was ‘home’ at the time – so I’m not really counting escapades there as far from home)
3. How many states (or Canadian provinces or your country’s geopolitical division) and counties have you had sex and/or an orgasms in? Fl, Wa, NY, Cn, NH, Vt, Va, SC, Pa, in the US, Ont. and BC in Canada. Nothing in Europe, darnit.
4. Have you ever had sex in a vehicle? 2 months ago . . . While the vehicle was moving? Well, yes, but not according to Bill Clintons definition of ‘having sex’ . . .
5. Do you have any travel related fantasy? Not especially. If so, share, please. Isolation, outdoors, no bugs, tropical – this IS a fantasy, right?
Bonus: On holidays that honor our military do you tend to remember those currently serving or veterans of military service? I honestly considered those who are serving, those I served with and those who have gone before. Many of us just trudged along, doing our jobs. Many others paid the ultimate price. It feels so inadequate to be able to only say “thank you”.
Now for the pictures:
Entering the porch
Looking back towards the door
Priming under way
Another view of the priming
Almost complete first coat, new foundation plantings
New view of the first coat. 'Scuse the grill, smoker & pile o'bricks.
The crew, working on wedding favors
Oh yeah – the wedding favors are done. Programs are done. Flowers are set. 9 days to go. Starting to get REALLY excited.
Grrrrrr…
Day 1711
Sorry in advance. You get pissy, bitchin’ Brian today. But I’ll try to end with a pretty picture. Certainly not one of me. I’ll also try to keep this brief (heh – I know I know)
So. The back story. Y’all know I am a card carrying member of Al Anon, the group that teaches people how to deal with living with alcoholics (and other things too, but that’s another story). Because I just can’t help myself, I’m also the Group Representative (GR) for the Tuesday night meeting group I attend. As a GR, I get to attend 2 state level conventions/assemblies a year and report back to the group on what I learned at these meets. Usually it’s a readers digest version of what’s happening on a national level, and how we’re driving for membership, new literature, public outreach campaigns, all sorts of good stuff. Additionally, I get to attend a meeting once a month that deals with the politics of the organization on a more local level – like county wide. This happens to be our “District”. Our district meetings usually take place at a local in-patient substance abuse treatment facility. At 7:30 in the evening, they have a lovely meeting room in the public portion of their facility that they let us use. At one time, it was also a requirement for families of patients to attend at least one Al Anon meeting, so a group was started there. Having the district meetings there was just a natural follow on. Plus the rent is really cheap.
‘Scuse me – gotta go burn a Ubuntu CD image. If writing gets a little choppy, it’s the burner intercepting my thoughts . . .
Anyhow. District meetings don’t happen in July & August. Even co-dependents can occasionally find interesting things to do in the summer. To sort of put an official end to the meeting cycle, the June meeting I usually held at someone’s house. We have a picnic style dinner, engage in a little chit-chat, then conduct the business portion of the meeting. In all, the blessed event takes maybe 3 hours. (Can you see where this is headed yet?)
Unofficially, I mentioned to our two district reps that geeze, our porch is finished, the kitchen & family room are done, why don’t we have the picnic meeting at my place. If it rains, we’ll be under cover, and if the weather is nice we’ll be in the shade! Plus everyone would get to see the remodel job I’ve been mentioning for the last year plus.
Officially, about a month ago I mentioned my desire to host the annual picnic meeting at our house to Cindy. There were two options for dates – a Saturday afternoon or a Wednesday evening. Cindy was, of course, invited (as all spouses are for this meeting – not everybody is married to their qualifying addict), or if she’d rather she could do what ever else she liked. At the time she was rather non-committal, mumbling something about the dates being awful soon after the wedding (I called bull on that, it’s 2 weeks after).
Well, last night I kinda wanted to firm things up, so I asked Cindy again about how she felt about me hosting the picnic meeting here. Bottom line – she was ‘uncomfortable’ with it. Felt she wouldn’t be welcome in her own house. Thought she’d be giving up a Saturday.
Funny thing, that. Three or so days after I first pitched the idea to her, she declared that she was hosting some jewelry party in early May and we needed to get the porch finished. Talk about feeling uncomfortable! Talk about losing a Saturday! (I jest – it’s a perfect excuse to get the hell outta dodge and go for a bike ride or get in a leisurely 9 holes of golf)
Still – Cindy declares her plans and I’m left to do what ever. No consideration on her part about what I’m going to do while the house is full of more estrogen units than is considered safe for one man. Maybe she (safely) assumed I’d go golfing. I really don’t know. But we’ll be talking about why I ask for input from her before committing to a gathering, while she just declares what she’s going to do and I’m left to fend for myself. Does that sound right? Not to me.
Now for a little photo journalism . . .
More springness
No idea what they are. 2″ tall, flowers are maybe 1/2″ wide.
Arborvitae pruned by deer
The body of that bush should be thicker than that little tuft at the top.
Flowering plum in the front yard busting out in bloom
When the flowers are gone, it still has nice, rusty colored leaves.
Last one – what I did on my weekend ‘vacation’
looking northeast
Furniture will finaly get placed this week – as soon as the last of the floor paint dries. Did you know paint dries really, really slowly when it’s only 40 degrees out?
Ouch!! and !!!
Day 1709 See that little bit down below there in all italics? That’s what I’d started way back on 4/22 with intentions of finishing posting it later that day. Like in the evening.
Day 1704 What’s in a Name
So we have some really unique names out there and at least one chart topper who has thousands of namesakes. I even checked on Cindy to she how she would do – she has 3 duplicates, and one of them is a sister-in-law in Tennessee. Another is in Indiana, where I have some relatives, but she doesn’t appear to be near one of my twins geographically. Sadly, I don’t really know where my cousins live either, so I don’t know if I have another in-law by the name of Cindy.
Now it’s what, the 27th already? What the hell happened? (I’m not sure if you are asking that, but I sure am) How does one lose track of so many damn days? Well, I’ll tell ya. That Wednesday evening was couples counseling V.6 Pretty decent session. It started later than usual for us (6pm vs 5pm), so Cindy kind sorta gave up on any hope of getting to a meeting that night. Instead we hit up a little diner in the town where we’re doing the counseling and had dinner. Nice little diner, decent dinner. Even had a productive conversation that didn’t just skim over the highlights of the day. Unfortunately, I usually update things here while Cindy is off at her meetings. She has some irrational loathing of me spending any time on the computer if she is within 4.3 nautical miles of me. But that’s another whole discussion for another day. Point is, no meeting for her, no update for me.
Thursday. Busy at work because I wanted to take Friday off. Weather was forecast to be gorgeous and we have a porch to paint. So I stayed and slaved till pretty late.
Friday. Vacation day. Eh – not so much. Fiddle farted around in the morning – knocked off some trim pieces that have been hanging around for a couple weeks now. Mostly waiting for a decision on whether or not we were heading in to see The Bob. Turns out we weren’t, but I didn’t know that till nearly lunch time. Still managed to get the rest of the porch primed before dinner. What a pain in the (pick an appropriate body part) that priming was! I used a Zinser BIN primer that was meant for exterior use, had mildew retardant and stain blocking properties. It was also really viscous. Cindy had done the east wall and part of the north wall the previous weekend. All I had to do was finish the north wall (3/4 of a 24 foot run, PLUS the doors) and the west wall. It was all going pretty good till I got to the western wall and discovered the sun shining directly into my eyes anytime I needed to paint around the window edges.
Even when not staring directly into the sun, the shadows it created, especially with the screen, made it challenging to focus on where the paint was going. While I was wrapping up the priming, Cindy got started on the first coat of real color. By 5 – 5:30 in the evening, we were pooped. Or so we thought. On a side note – the weather Friday was gorgeous. Over 80, low humidity, lots of sun.
Saturday, by the time I wandered downstairs and got a cup of coffee Cindy was already outside painting. At 8:15. Must have been something I said about not appreciating her sitting inside watching some shit show on the “All men are bad” channel (aka Lifetime) while I was outside painting – having taken the day off to ‘help her’ paint the porch. (Cuz initially she said I didn’t need to take vacation time to help her – she could do it herself. But after she got 1/3 of the priming done in a weeks time, she was amenable to some help)
Anyhow. We split the job. Cindy did everything above the knee wall, I did everything below. I might have had more surface area to paint, but she had more detail work to do. Worked out well. By late afternoon, we had the walls done in two coats, made a trip to the home store to get shades and even got 4 of the 6 shades installed. Then, just to be stubborn, we also got half the floor painted. THAT was a killer. Stooped over, brushing paint into the seams (gooping the cracks), then rolling the planks themselves.
Had another gorgeous weather day. 85+ degrees, sunny, dry, breeze picking up late in the day.
Sunday morning. Somehow we lost 30 or 40 degrees. Still warm enough to paint, so I did. Second coated the half of the floor we did Saturday night. When it was dry enough to tolerate stepping, we moved furniture (gently) and first coated the remainder of the floor. It was so cool though that the stain wasn’t really drying, especially the second coat. Now, Monday evening, still need to second coat that last half of the floor, but I never got dinner wrapped up till nearly 7:30. What with all the bending, squatting, kneeling, squinting, standing, bending, squatting, kneeling over & over & over my back & glutes are cooked. Tonight was deemed rest time – so I did.
Finally broke out The Bob’s camera – way fancier than I’m used to. It’s a Nikon D50, a real live digital SLR. Going to take some time to learn all the bells, whistles & features, but it is more like the older film based SLR’s I’m used to using. Makes the forsythia bush out front look like this:
Exploding Forsythia
One of the nicer parts of Spring in Rah-cha-ha. After 3 or 4 months of snow, mud & gray, it sure is nice to see the flowers arrive, finally.
Therapist V.3
Day 1682
I started this during a brief lull at work yesterday, then tried to finish it last night. Unfortunately, I felt compelled to reply to a comment or two and had to get in a little surfing of my own. By the time that was wrapped up, I didn’t have enough time to really finish my thoughts off last night, so I’ll finish them during lunch today (Tuesday) and hopefully post them tonight at home.
Monday lull:
Sitting at home, sitting here at work – either at my desk or off in a lab, I can’t escape the sensation that I keep smelling cigarette smoke. Not a full-on blast of smoke, just that nasty metallic taste on the rear of my soft palate. What’s worse is that I know it isn’t real. It doesn’t happen all the time, but lately it’s been happening more frequently. It’s cropped up a couple times this morning even. Wonder if that’s an indicator that I’m suffering from lakanooki? You know? Maybe my body’s sensations are rushing to the post coital cigarette in a “see what you could be having?” mode. Well, it’s going to have to find a better carrot than the sensation of smoking. What it’s trying is likely to drive me further away.
Wait, what am I saying? I don’t need a cigarette to smoke in bed. Ahem.
Monday evening:
It’s after couples therapy V.3 now. I’m seeing something Annette warned me about last week. Because I’ve done the therapy thing for a while now and also have a bit more experience at the whole 12 step thing, I have a certain advantage in therapy. I know how things work, I know how to think through things and I know how to verbalize my thoughts, all in therapy friendly terms. So Annette says that in therapy, Cindy & I aren’t on an even playing field. Tonight, I used that.Actually explained how events this weekend made me feel with out assessing blame. Basically wrapped up events from Saturday evening through Sunday evening.
Tuesday lunch:
Umm, yeah. To finish last night’s train of thought. To paraphrase what I said, I told Janine and Cindy that the trip back from Delevan Saturday night, Sunday morning and most of Sunday afternoon I felt like I was being punished by silence. I felt like I was walking on eggshells the whole time. I also told them both that I felt like I was making the effort to meet half way. Suggesting an activity for date night, changing some behaviors, but that my effort weren’t being reciprocated. I mentioned that somehow, things seemed to thaw a bit Sunday afternoon, but I wasn’t entirely sure of the source.
In truth, I lied there. I DO know the source(s). 1 – Eric came home from work. She’ll talk to the kids. She’s desperate to have them accept her. B – we were having a risotto made with a dash of red wine for dinner. What disappeared from the bottle was waaaaayyyyy more than the ½ up the recipe called for. (It was good risotto too!) Eric even saw her ‘hidden’ glass of wine, stashed in the dark corner net to the fridge, behind a bottle of water. (I kinda sensed Sunday that she was approaching ratchet jaw mode, but didn’t put it all together till last night. Eric confirmed my suspicions when he said he saw the glass.)
Aaaaanyhow. In spite of couching things in therapy friendly terms, Cindy was put a bit on the defensive. She did ask why I didn’t approach her about how I felt. My response was multi-tiered. First – it was a short amount of time from Sunday’s eggshell fest to Monday’s therapy session. I felt it best to share my feelings with a referee in the room (yeah, I said that in front of the therapist). Second, I told her that “trying to approach you with something like that was, well – it’s kinda like hugging a cactus”. Then, Janine kicked in and told Cindy that she just radiated aloofness, bad attitude, and everything else that says ‘stay the fuck away from me’. (No, Janine didn’t include the expletive. Cindy just implies it with her demeanor.) Again, for the second week in a row, I wanted to jump up and down like an ecstatic little kid and offer to wash Janine’s car whenever it needed it. On the inside.
Then came the coup de grace. Janine asked Cindy if she’d like to start some 1 on 1 sessions. Janine’s opinion (like that of Annette) was that Cindy had enough of her own stuff to work through and it was hampering any efforts we were making with couples therapy. Cindy agreed to go, but said something to the effect of “so I guess you think I’m messed up”. To her credit, Janine cut in and said “you’re messed up, I’m messed up, Brian’s messed up. We all have “stuff”. We all need to learn how to handle our “stuff”. That’s all we need to do is get you to learn how to handle YOUR stuff, then we can make progress on the two of you as a couple”
Now, for the second time in this session, I wanted to jump up and down like an ecstatic little kid and offer to wash Janine’s car whenever it needed it. On the inside. On the outside, I tried to not show a thing. Cindy and I were seated next to each other, so I doubt she picked up on anything. I don’t think Janine really noticed anything, but she’s also smart enough to not let on. So. I may call Annette and let her know that Cindy is starting 1 on 1 with Janine. I may even try to reschedule my next appt with Annette to try and fit one in before our next couples thingy. In case there are any things I might need to anticipate or prepare for. Of course, there’s the very good advice Gretchen from Iowa offered once – “Don’t borrow trouble”. Sounds like a good idea.
Before our session yesterday, I got an email from Cindy. Here it is, in total:
I’ve decided to go to Europe next Spring with the International Club. We’re going to Spain and the French Riviera. I’ll need to go online and put down a deposit by tomorrow of $95.00. Later
Once the waiting room emptied out yesterday, I asked her a few innocent questions about the trip. Even got polite answers. Cindy had considered going last year or the year before, but her dad’s condition and her newness at her job kinda put the dampers on it. So this idea is nothing new, but the abruptness of the announcement was, well, abrupt. This morning, Cindy was in the room formerly known as the 4th bedroom (not the computer room, entering all her info for the trip. At one point, she asked me my email address – emergency contact info. I jokingly asked her if it was because she was registering me for the trip too.
This morning, I get THIS email from her:
I was thinking this morning that if you wanted to go on this trip you could. Let me know. C
Cynthia Xyzzy,
HS Secretary
XXXX-XXXX High School
I would absolutely, positively LOVE to go. End of April in the south of France & Northern Spain? Heaven! Because of money she got from her dad, affording it isn’t a problem. But I don’t want to butt in on her fun. She isn’t going as a chaperone, only as an adult also participating, like the students. I’m sure the adults will feel a twinge of responsibility towards the kids (parents, especially mothers, are wired like that, yes?) but officially, there is no liability. Nice, Nimes, Monte Carlo, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville – all very exotic places to us. But I don’t want to butt in.
Since the trip is next year, it IS affirmation that she’s willing to work on things I suppose. But if she went, I’d have 12 – 13 days here in splendid isolation. I could golf, bowl, sit in the living room in my underwear & watch hockey until my eyes bled. My hope is that Eric is in the Police Academy by then and living on his own. BOTH of us watching hockey while in our underwear is way beyond creepy. We’ve (Cindy & I, not Eric & I) agreed to talk it over tonight. My overwhelming desire is to go, but like I keep telling myself (and you all too) I don’t want to crowd her out of her own fun.
Aahhh well. Update from the school. Looks like I won’t have to horn in on anybody’s good time. The schools policy is that this trip is for students, school chaperones and school staff. No parents, no spouses (spice?).
So.
Anybody up for a party at my place, April 16 – April 25, 2010? (Please, please note the year!! Don’t show up here in 2 weeks. That would be tough to explain.) I’ll have at least one extra bedroom, might be talked into giving up mine if a couple were to come, and if the weather is warm, we can sleep a small herd camping style on the back porch. I have access to some quality air mattresses too. It would be BYOB, pitch in for food and we’ll divvy up the cooking chores. I’ll have some nice, chewy, dark beers to share, we’ll fire up the smoker a time or three and can always make day trips to see some of the local sights. I’d also consider NOT sitting in the living room in my underwear watching the NHL playoffs. You know – if that’s gonna be a deal breaker and all.
It’s Tuesday evening now, time to trot off to my meeting. Lets remember this party idea, mmkay?
Reality vs What’s in Ones Head
Day 1634 Reality?
Way back when, early in the summer when we thought that maybe we’d have time to pull it off, I threw some stakes in the ground. The outer edge was roughly even with the existing concrete slab patio. One side wall was in line with the east wall of the house. The other side kept moving, moving, moving. Finally settled far enough out to comfortably encompass the window over the kitchen sink. The challenge was to fit the peak of the porch roof between the second floor windows, get enough pitch on the roof to handle the snow load but still keep the walls a reasonable height.
At our previous house we had a 12×12 deck by the pool and a 12×16 two level jobber off the kitchen. We were painfully aware that both were too small. Sitting on our existing patio many a summer day/evening, we realized we needed 5 things – shade, moving air, screens, space and a roof to keep us from scrambling every time it rained.
That’s how we ended up where we are. Put the stakes in the ground and said “this big”. Knew the dimensions in my head. Couple of numbers. No biggie. It really didn’t look all that big with the plants in place and the pond still there. Then we got the pond moved (STILL to be finished). Eh – still no impression. Moved the plants, water, gas lines. Ok – now it was flat & open, but still – eh.
Then Bob & Tom showed up. They did some layout, drilled for supports, put posts in the ground. Eh. Beams laid, joists run. Oh my. Starting to get real. Then the flooring was put down. Wow. Walls, ridge beam, rafters and sheathing. Then it was real. Enclosing the space really drove it home. We’re gonna need a lot of paint to cover this thing.
All that snow we had is disappearing in the rain. For a while it was pretty neat – so much moisture coming up off the layers of snow we had a persistent ground fog all day long. Southerly breezes got us all the way up to 55 today. Tonight the wind is shifting and picking up speed. By tomorrow the wind speed will be higher than the temperature, but at least it’ll clear the fog out, just in time for the snow to start again. Yeah – February is way too early to be thinking spring.
Got bowling tomorrow. The local high school end of season tournament is tomorrow, at our lanes. It’s going to be a zoo. Every male high school bowler in the 5 county region will be trying to get in 6 games tomorrow. As a consequence, we’ll be starting late. What sucks is that the state physical education association bans the sale of alcohol while a school competition is taking place, so we can’t even grab a cold one to sip while we’re waiting for our lanes to free up. I could plan around this, couldn’t I? Hmmmmm.
It’s late. Maybe tomorrow night I can dig up some progress shots of the porch. Ought to have some of the inide of our pumpkin too. Now that the room is loaded it doesn’t look near as orange. (Whew!)
