Just in time for Thanksgiving…the wood floor renovation is done…almost

The good thing about any renovation project is that eventually there will be completion. Truth be told, there are days when you doubt that. But at last, we’re finally seeing the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. All the ripping up, tearing out, sanding, staining and varnishing is done. Still need to add some trim but that’s small stuff compared to the hours we’ve compared to the hours we’ve put in over the last few months.
And so…a pictorial blog…

 

 

 

 

This old house

We live in an old house. Old as in at least 90 years old. Maybe older. Here’s the thing about an old house. It’s old. Things go wrong. Things need to be fixed. While this is probably also true of new houses, I’ve never lived in one so I have what might be considered a convoluted vision of perfect living spaces. New pipes. Reliable heat. Bright, shiny faucets.

So anyway, one week ago things fell apart. It’s never just one thing…in this case, there were two.

Here’s how this scenario played out. Friday night, as we were cleaning the house, I heard the hubs groan and mumble something from the basement. It didn’t sound good. It wasn’t. The original (read: old) cast iron sewage line from the toilets, shower and bathroom sinks, had sprung a leak.

Fortunately, there is a nearby drain. Unfortunately, the drain had backed up and it wasn’t pretty. So we mopped up the mess and sent an SOS to our favorite plumber. The on-call employee and his lucky wife stopped by after their dinner out. He gave us his evaluation of what was going on and what we could do, which basically came down to flushing the toilets and taking showers only when necessary. Oh, and keep a mop and bucket nearby.  Until Monday…

Because on Monday, the same plumbing/heating company was installing our new furnace and could then determine how best to fix the pipe/drain problem. In the meantime…

We took care flushing only when necessary. At one point, the hubs announced he was running up to the town hall — I assumed he needed to pick up something from his office. But no. There’s a nice restroom there…with working toilets.

Saturday evening, instead of our planned sushi birthday celebration, we stayed home to clean up yet another flooding. Too many showers at once had overwhelmed the drain. Sunday was more of the same, although we’d learned our lesson. No more back to back showers.

Monday morning, the hubs headed off for Cincinnati at 5 a.m., while I waited impatiently for 6 a.m. so I could head to the gym. Not only is there an indoor running track which saved me from a drenching run in a cold rain, but there are also hot showers and working toilets!

After three days of this, one’s brain gets stuck on one reality of life. Where is the nearest bathroom? And yes, I did think of all of those affected by recent natural disasters and realized how lucky I was to have alternatives.

And yet….home alone Monday night, having heard the various possibilities of what could be causing the blocked drain, dollar signs flashed through my mind…a veritable slot machine racking up the possibilities.

Things only worsened when another round of flooding drew me back with my mop and bucket, only to slip and fall in the mucky water. That was it. Time to take drastic measures. Recalling how we used a large coffee can when restrooms were unavailable during a trip through France and Switzerland, I lined a bucket with trash bags and headed to bed, sleeping fitfully. Let’s just say the bucket came in handy.

Tuesday arrived and with it, an angel in the form of the plumber. I was happy to go to work and let him deal with the mess. Good old-fashioned ingenuity and some plumbing knowledge fixed the problem…at least for now.

And now my dreams are filled with visions of new houses. New pipes. No need for drains. Some day.

Birdman gets his fix

My husband loves birds…all kinds of birds…except he has little respect for the sparrow. I’ve never understood this, but then I’m not much of a bird expert. I’ve always had a soft spot for sparrows so when the birdman gets on a rampage about the sparrows feasting on his finch food or whatever, I launch into a childhood favorite…”God sees the little sparrows fall, I know He loves me too…

Of course, this song usually just results in great groans and rolling of the eyes. Next to the brilliant yellow goldfinch and energetic, aerodynamic hummingbird, the lowly sparrow has little to offer in the way of beauty.

At any rate, the hubs loves his birds. When we’re traveling along an otherwise boring highway, he always manages to catch sight of every large bird — often a hawk — sitting on the fence posts in nearby fields.

So it came as no surprise when he sent me three photos today — two of a hawk and one of a small owl — all three of which he saw while making the daily rounds with the dog.

Here’s what he saw:

This is Xavier Hawk, named for one of our favorite little neighbors, on whose porch the hawk was perched.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then just as the last of the afternoon sunlight was fading into dusk, he caught site of a small — perhaps baby — owl.