Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
How to build a bomb shelter for spiders
(Or "How to build a deck that will frustrate the next home owners who need to remove it.")
There was a deck in our backyard, built around a big old maple tree. I suppose it once was a nice deck, but then the tree grew and buckled the deck. Besides, the deck wasn't particularly close to the house, so we (not known for ever going to any trouble) have never used it.
There was a big wind storm last fall, the remnant of a hurricane. It blew down some big limbs off the old maple, which unfortunately fell on the kids' playset. Then there was a big ice storm last winter. Big limbs cracked under the weight of the ice, and fell on what remained of the playset. Thankfully nothing fell on the house. But everytime I looked at that tree I saw a ticking time bomb.
The tree had to go. Which meant the deck had to go first.
Day one of deck demolition. After an hour or two of work, John managed to pry up ONE board.
We figured his lack of success was because we don't own the right tools. So a day and a trip to Lowe's later, he tried again.
That pick-axe ended up being flimsy and not particularly suited for the task, which necessitated yet another trip to Lowe's. I felt quite empowered walking out of the store with the new pick-axe and a crowbar. Deadly weapons, both of them.
Day two's work was thankfully accelerated by Bryan's arrival. I can't believe that he willingly spent his weekend helping us rip up deck boards, but I am grateful beyond words. (Yes, I know I keep saying 'we'. I helped. I, um... handed them hammers and crowbars and stuff. And threw away nails. And hauled a few boards away. Once in a while, I even got to wield a crowbar, just to prove to myself that I have no physical strength whatsoever.)
End of day two and 8 man-hours (and 4 woman-hours) of work: half the boards ripped up.
Why so slow?
Here's why:
Three spiral nails across the width of every 2 X 6 deck board to hold the boards to the joists. Joists spaced one foot apart. The deck was about 15 by 20 feet. You do the math.
Necessary? I suppose if you were building a bomb shelter for spiders...
Another reason why this took so long: we painstakingly removed every nail from the boards and piled them up neatly.
On day three we wised up.
End of day three and 8 more man-hours: Almost done with the deck boards!
Day four: Just John and I working today, for about 2 hours. Ripped up the last few deck boards and removed the joists. Luckily the tree roots had caused some of the brackets holding the joists to the wood underneath to pull out. There were LOTS of brackets.
Day five: John and I and less than two more hours, and we're ALL DONE!
Yes, yes, I know there are still 4 X 4 posts standing.
We suspect (since every single aspect of this deck-building was overkill) those are probably 6 feet deep into the ground and embedded in concrete. We'll just borrow a saw to cut them off at the ground surface and call it good enough.
Stay in school, kids. Manual labor really isn't fun, even if you get to take pictures and blog about it.
There was a deck in our backyard, built around a big old maple tree. I suppose it once was a nice deck, but then the tree grew and buckled the deck. Besides, the deck wasn't particularly close to the house, so we (not known for ever going to any trouble) have never used it.
There was a big wind storm last fall, the remnant of a hurricane. It blew down some big limbs off the old maple, which unfortunately fell on the kids' playset. Then there was a big ice storm last winter. Big limbs cracked under the weight of the ice, and fell on what remained of the playset. Thankfully nothing fell on the house. But everytime I looked at that tree I saw a ticking time bomb.
The tree had to go. Which meant the deck had to go first.
Day one of deck demolition. After an hour or two of work, John managed to pry up ONE board.
We figured his lack of success was because we don't own the right tools. So a day and a trip to Lowe's later, he tried again.
That pick-axe ended up being flimsy and not particularly suited for the task, which necessitated yet another trip to Lowe's. I felt quite empowered walking out of the store with the new pick-axe and a crowbar. Deadly weapons, both of them.
Day two's work was thankfully accelerated by Bryan's arrival. I can't believe that he willingly spent his weekend helping us rip up deck boards, but I am grateful beyond words. (Yes, I know I keep saying 'we'. I helped. I, um... handed them hammers and crowbars and stuff. And threw away nails. And hauled a few boards away. Once in a while, I even got to wield a crowbar, just to prove to myself that I have no physical strength whatsoever.)
End of day two and 8 man-hours (and 4 woman-hours) of work: half the boards ripped up.
Why so slow?
Here's why:
Three spiral nails across the width of every 2 X 6 deck board to hold the boards to the joists. Joists spaced one foot apart. The deck was about 15 by 20 feet. You do the math.
Necessary? I suppose if you were building a bomb shelter for spiders...
Another reason why this took so long: we painstakingly removed every nail from the boards and piled them up neatly.
On day three we wised up.
End of day three and 8 more man-hours: Almost done with the deck boards!
Day four: Just John and I working today, for about 2 hours. Ripped up the last few deck boards and removed the joists. Luckily the tree roots had caused some of the brackets holding the joists to the wood underneath to pull out. There were LOTS of brackets.
Day five: John and I and less than two more hours, and we're ALL DONE!
Yes, yes, I know there are still 4 X 4 posts standing.
We suspect (since every single aspect of this deck-building was overkill) those are probably 6 feet deep into the ground and embedded in concrete. We'll just borrow a saw to cut them off at the ground surface and call it good enough.
Stay in school, kids. Manual labor really isn't fun, even if you get to take pictures and blog about it.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Birthday!
Rebecca turned 4 the other week.
The celebration started with a Dora pinata.
(Note that Becca's clothes match Dora's. NOT my doing.)
The pinata and mini-cupcakes were taken to preschool so that we could bless the teachers with 20 over-sugared 4 year olds.
When we got to school, Ben had to give Becca a birthday hug. (Ben as in "Yes, I want those yellow cupcakes because yellow is Ben's favorite color. Oh my.)
After preschool we came home for present-opening. We accidentally went overboard (PSA: only shop ONCE. Not multiple stores on multiple days.) and the grandparents also sent gifts, so she made out like a bandit. A very cool-looking bandit.
Wait. No birthday party?
But of course.
Since Kathryn had been psyching Becca up about her party for oh, a year (!) we couldn't escape this one. Since Becca had been talking about Sydney's Chuck E. Cheese party for the last eleven months, the venue was a no-brainer.
So we had two little friends (Sydney and Wyatt) and their parents and siblings, and two grown-up friends (Ann and Bryan) join us at CEC on Monday afternoon.
The party started with some playtime. Adrenaline junkie loved the roller coaster simulator.
Then came food and cake and the goofy Chuck E. Cheese stuff.
Our party coordinator was fantastic, but Becca was not going near that crazy mouse. So Kathryn went instead.
And then we continued with more playtime and more roller coaster simulators.
Everyone (yes, including the grown-ups!) had a great time. We made the dangerous discovery that you can actually get beer and wine (!!) at CEC. I think that John, Ann and Bryan are planning to sneak there some night after the kids are in bed to play pinball.
And since the party was 5 days after the real birthday, Becca seems to think she's had TWO birthdays and is now five. Oye.
The celebration started with a Dora pinata.
(Note that Becca's clothes match Dora's. NOT my doing.)
The pinata and mini-cupcakes were taken to preschool so that we could bless the teachers with 20 over-sugared 4 year olds.
When we got to school, Ben had to give Becca a birthday hug. (Ben as in "Yes, I want those yellow cupcakes because yellow is Ben's favorite color. Oh my.)
After preschool we came home for present-opening. We accidentally went overboard (PSA: only shop ONCE. Not multiple stores on multiple days.) and the grandparents also sent gifts, so she made out like a bandit. A very cool-looking bandit.
Wait. No birthday party?
But of course.
Since Kathryn had been psyching Becca up about her party for oh, a year (!) we couldn't escape this one. Since Becca had been talking about Sydney's Chuck E. Cheese party for the last eleven months, the venue was a no-brainer.
So we had two little friends (Sydney and Wyatt) and their parents and siblings, and two grown-up friends (Ann and Bryan) join us at CEC on Monday afternoon.
The party started with some playtime. Adrenaline junkie loved the roller coaster simulator.
Then came food and cake and the goofy Chuck E. Cheese stuff.
Our party coordinator was fantastic, but Becca was not going near that crazy mouse. So Kathryn went instead.
And then we continued with more playtime and more roller coaster simulators.
Everyone (yes, including the grown-ups!) had a great time. We made the dangerous discovery that you can actually get beer and wine (!!) at CEC. I think that John, Ann and Bryan are planning to sneak there some night after the kids are in bed to play pinball.
And since the party was 5 days after the real birthday, Becca seems to think she's had TWO birthdays and is now five. Oye.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Too painful to talk
My due date was Monday, July 4th, 2005. At my doctor's appointment on Thursday, the 7th, the doctor announced that if I didn't have the baby by the next Monday, that she would perform an induction.
"But I really think the baby will come this weekend."
Yeah, right. She had said that for the past 2 weeks.
I was bound and determined NOT to be induced, although I really didn't have a good plan for avoidance. Perhaps it was the strength of my will that caused the contractions to start that evening. After a few hours, I called the doctor.
"You really don't want to come in until the contractions are too painful to talk through."
OKayyyyyy...
I went to bed, hoping for once in my life to be woken by pain. But at 7 I got up for the day, grumpy that I was still quite able to talk through the contractions.
In an attempt to push (hah!) things along, I decided to walk Kathryn to preschool. It was about 1.5 miles round-trip, but we generally were lazy enough to drive the distance. Not that day. I strode with purpose. But still, talking? No problem.
At 11, I decided to call the doctor again. This time, I got the other OB in the practice.
"Well, since this is your second child, you really should come in now."
Now? Immediately? Sure. No problem. I made lunch, ate it, then went to pick Kathryn up at preschool. (We drove this time.) Dropped her and mom off at home, then made our way to the hospital.
The first time stamp on the monitor trace was 1 pm. The nurse - Gregg - was quite convinced I was in very early labor - I was laughing and joking too much. Very disappointing. Whatever - I could wait a few more days. I said that if he were right, I would just go home (and sulk) and come back later - that 'too painful to talk' later. Gregg was quite surprised to find that I was 4-5 cm dilated. I could stay. Yippee!
*bunch of not-terribly-interesting labor stuff deleted*
2:50 pm: Water broke.
Sometime in the next 25 minutes: Doctor FINALLY showed up. He had figured that the epidural was going to slow down labor. Apparently nobody told him that I didn't get one. NICU people showed up 'just in case'. All these people started talking. really. slowly. to. me. like. I. didn't. understand. English. or. something. Push. Push. Push.
3:16 pm: Baby girl was born.
(The part about not coming in to the hospital until it hurt too much to talk? It NEVER hurt too much to talk. Actually, towards the end I couldn't shut up. I got pretty rude and bitchy. (At least, more so than normal.) In retrospect, it was quite hilarious.)
"But I really think the baby will come this weekend."
Yeah, right. She had said that for the past 2 weeks.
I was bound and determined NOT to be induced, although I really didn't have a good plan for avoidance. Perhaps it was the strength of my will that caused the contractions to start that evening. After a few hours, I called the doctor.
"You really don't want to come in until the contractions are too painful to talk through."
OKayyyyyy...
I went to bed, hoping for once in my life to be woken by pain. But at 7 I got up for the day, grumpy that I was still quite able to talk through the contractions.
In an attempt to push (hah!) things along, I decided to walk Kathryn to preschool. It was about 1.5 miles round-trip, but we generally were lazy enough to drive the distance. Not that day. I strode with purpose. But still, talking? No problem.
At 11, I decided to call the doctor again. This time, I got the other OB in the practice.
"Well, since this is your second child, you really should come in now."
Now? Immediately? Sure. No problem. I made lunch, ate it, then went to pick Kathryn up at preschool. (We drove this time.) Dropped her and mom off at home, then made our way to the hospital.
The first time stamp on the monitor trace was 1 pm. The nurse - Gregg - was quite convinced I was in very early labor - I was laughing and joking too much. Very disappointing. Whatever - I could wait a few more days. I said that if he were right, I would just go home (and sulk) and come back later - that 'too painful to talk' later. Gregg was quite surprised to find that I was 4-5 cm dilated. I could stay. Yippee!
*bunch of not-terribly-interesting labor stuff deleted*
2:50 pm: Water broke.
Sometime in the next 25 minutes: Doctor FINALLY showed up. He had figured that the epidural was going to slow down labor. Apparently nobody told him that I didn't get one. NICU people showed up 'just in case'. All these people started talking. really. slowly. to. me. like. I. didn't. understand. English. or. something. Push. Push. Push.
3:16 pm: Baby girl was born.
(The part about not coming in to the hospital until it hurt too much to talk? It NEVER hurt too much to talk. Actually, towards the end I couldn't shut up. I got pretty rude and bitchy. (At least, more so than normal.) In retrospect, it was quite hilarious.)
Monday, July 6, 2009
Finishing stuff up
I have a short attention span. Seriously, my mind has wandered to 4 different topics in the time it has taken me to type this line. (Maybe I need to learn to type faster.) So these past couple of weeks have been a time of BIG accomplishments. I'm actually completing knitting projects (slightly) faster than I'm starting new ones.
When I first started knitting again (I learned before college. That sweater was never finished, and I have no idea where it is.) Kathryn begged me to make her a sweater. This was when she was young enough that mommy was omnipotent and omniscient. She asked many times, but I always declined. I really didn't think that I had the ability to actually finish something before she outgrew it. So I stuck to knitting blankets for her dolls, and dishcloths which were promptly co-opted as blankets for her dolls, and baby blankets that became blankets for... you know.
Then I discovered Warm Woolies and motivation, and finished a sweater in a month. Kathryn, older and wiser, declared that I had no excuse for not making her a sweater. But winter was just about over, and nobody in their right mind would wear a sweater in Evansville in the summer, so I compromised with a little shrug.
And I actually finished it while it still fit! (it took about 3 months, if you're wondering, but I took a long hiatus for the scarf.)
When I first started knitting again (I learned before college. That sweater was never finished, and I have no idea where it is.) Kathryn begged me to make her a sweater. This was when she was young enough that mommy was omnipotent and omniscient. She asked many times, but I always declined. I really didn't think that I had the ability to actually finish something before she outgrew it. So I stuck to knitting blankets for her dolls, and dishcloths which were promptly co-opted as blankets for her dolls, and baby blankets that became blankets for... you know.
Then I discovered Warm Woolies and motivation, and finished a sweater in a month. Kathryn, older and wiser, declared that I had no excuse for not making her a sweater. But winter was just about over, and nobody in their right mind would wear a sweater in Evansville in the summer, so I compromised with a little shrug.
And I actually finished it while it still fit! (it took about 3 months, if you're wondering, but I took a long hiatus for the scarf.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
