All the crap that just won't go away.

Ok. It's more like all the crap I can't bring myself to get rid of. Like this little gem from the 80s:

Fond memories of frizzy hair, big bangs, and pictures at the JC Penny Portrait Studio... And then there's the reminders of what could've been...


Mom did a little cleaning the other day and came across the wallpaper border I had picked out for my room when I was 10. It never made its way to the wall. I took it home with me. Maybe I'll stick it in the box of ReStore items. Some little girl getting in touch with her floral side for the first time should have this. I lost contact with the Laura Ashley in me long ago. Honestly, I kind of hope she lost my number.

So as you see, we are finally in the throes of packing for real. Notice has been given. Boxes have been salvaged from my office move. And frankly, boxes are like the best thing ever for a certain sector of the family population:


And I had one more picture of The Senator (the tabby in the back) loving on the box, and one of Chester (tabby in front) curled up inside the box on all my toiletries, and one of the little tuxedo Birdie (aka Holstein Kitty) posing with our old school bookcases, but my stupid computer crashed and erased everything on my memory card.

Anyway, that brings to me to the one thing I wish I could get rid of. The "bookcases"; the good old cinder block and plank bookcases. Adam refused to give them up almost 5 years ago when I moved in. He got rid of almost every other piece of furniture in the house, but he couldn't let go of the cinder blocks. And, in all fairness, they are functional and handy, and they aren't in our public spaces. For a while, we tried negotiations: he'd get rid of his bookcases, if he could, in turn, burn my wicker/reed bookcase in the yard. But the negotiations broke down and we called it a draw. I don't know what their place will be in the new house, but I see that they are definitely coming with us.

His sister managed to spruce hers up with fabric on the cinder blocks. Maybe I'll try that along with staining the wood. Would that be wrong?

Damn weather...

Thanks to everyone whose been checking in; we were very glad to not be on the receiving end of a tornado last night. We're in the heart of Tornado Alley, so almost anytime there's rain, it's a distinct possibility. We consider ourselves very lucky.

It did, however, take an hour and a half to drive 8 miles this morning on a 70mph interstate because of the ice that resulted from the temperature plummeting 40 degrees. After I passed the wreck that caused the pile-up I just felt terrible. The car didn't even resemble an automobile anymore.

Arkansas has a long, history with tornadoes, mostly by the rivers-- you know when they're coming. It's quiet, like people say it is, and still. But the air feels different, too. And they are devastating. Fort smith really got on top of things, finally, and installed tornado shelters at every elementary school (or are in the process of doing so-- most schools have them) and they are open to the public; you're never more than a few blocks from a shelter. Also, after a big tornado in 1996 in which the Tulsa Weather Service didn't properly warn us, we've become a little gunshy and take all the precautions we can. I have, at times, even considered installing a safe-room behind the garage.

1898 Cyclone (pics from NOAA photo database)


1996 tornado-- (pics from the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette:


Lets all try and send good thoughts out into the world today.

And stay off the roads, people.

Whew!

I've been having anxiety dreams about the tile. The night we laid it, I dreamed that they all slid off the counter and I came back to the house to find them all piled on the floor. I also dreamed that they cracked in place.

Last night I dreamed that when I got to show Adam the grout, giant crevices had formed between each tile-- like 2 feet deep and 6 inches wide!

But they're all in place. I'm in between coats of sealer right now. Hopefully that'll work out well too.

Fingers crossed.

Birth of my patio...

Just found this by accident in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette:

100 YEARS AGO Feb. 1, 1908 FORT SMITH — The work of paving the streets of Fort Smith will begin March 1. The brick plant is now turning out 65, 000 bricks per day.

A friend of ours, who happens to know a surprising amount of town history for someone who dislikes the place so much, told us a little about this just a few weeks ago. Apparently, the brick plant just outside of town was having trouble shipping the bricks-- the roads weren't paved and couldn't withstand the weight of the carts. So the brick company offered to pave the roads (free of charge, I think) in return for the rights to drive their shipments on them.

I've mentioned before that our road was still brick up until about 15 years ago or so. I remember riding my bicycle on those bumpy bricks when I was a little kid-- it's part of why I loved this street and why I wanted to live in this neighborhood my whole life. When they finally tore it up to repave, a local antique dealer got most of them and through him, they made their way to the home's owners at that time. They created this magical little brick patio that we are so looking forward to using when the weather turns warm (that's a "street lamp" that you see in the foreground, btw, not some weird pipe).

We've made some alterations-- the picket fence was riddled with live termites, so we built a 4 1/2 foot privacy fence (I think it hides the yard just enough, which makes it like The Secret Garden for me); and someone broke the little flagstone bench, though there's a bigger more usable one in the yard. And we'd like to replace that scraggly business you see on the upper left with a Japanese Maple. I just need to watch the yard at all hours to see if it gets reasonable sunlight. On the right, those are 4 o'clocks and lantanas-- I adore them and they withstand the Arkansas heat so well; but they'll choke out everything else so they need some supervision (they were easily 8 times bigger when we took over the house than they are in that pic-- I spent an entire Saturday clearing them out, along with some massive canna lilies, so the Terminex guys could get close to the house).

But the patio itself will stay the same. Most of the bricks are stamped "Fort Smith"; some are from Pittsburgh, some from Coffeyville. I hear that the Ft. Smith bricks go for $5 a piece. Guess we know where to go if we can't make the mortgage...

Grouting the tile...and my fingernails, and cuticles, and knuckles...

I like Saturday mornings on HGTV. It's one of the few times during the week when they have shows that are at least remotely dedicated to DIY issues more laborious than correcting bad taste or selling homes.

This morning, one show featured a couple who'd had a tiling disaster; more specifically, they'd had a grouting disaster. Great, I thought. I'm grouting the kitchen tile today-- this way, I'll know what not to do.

Oh, I found out what not to do-- and in the process scared myself so shitless of the whole project that I ended up cleaning the haze too quickly and having to regrout the left half of the counters.Also, I went with charcoal grout rather than the midnight black we originally bought. The black grout was the same brand as the first troublesome batch of thinset we used on the backerboard. Since I had no idea whatsoever how to do this or what the stuff was supposed to look or feel like, I decided that the little picture-directions weren't going to cut it for me. I need words. Adam is sick this weekend (please don't have type 1 flu, please don't have type 1 flu, please don't have type 1 flu). So I had to make the executive decision of going with "charcoal" colored grout from Home depot. With directions that use the alphabet. I hope it's not too light.

Otherwise, all went well, I think.
(It's not as light gray as it appears with the camera flash) I also got some touch up painting done. Yay for me. More to do tomorrow.

To fuzzy the toilet seat cover, or not to fuzzy the toilet seat cover

So I'm sitting here nursing a headache and trying to work myself up to getting back to work, when I started to wonder-- do people use those fuzzy toilet seat covers anymore?

I always have-- they're warm. They're fuzzy. And they add one more little splash of color to an otherwise blasé beige/white space. Without consideration, I had sort of figured I'd get one for this bathroom. And yet...

It just doesn't seem right. Am I rebelling from my previous ways? Have HGTV DIY design shows crept into my subconscious and convinced me of their gaucheness? Am I weary of trying to precariously navigate my way through a color scheme I don't understand? (I always handled clay much better than paint-- it's monochrome but textured.) Is it the fact that the fuzzy toilet seat cover is shag carpet for the commode? Or is it simply the fact that I really, really, really want a white waffle-weave curtain and a white soft rag-rug-- YES I KNOW I WILL BE WASHING IT 4 TIMES A WEEK, MOM!-- and the white fuzz on the white porcelain would be sort of pointless? I mean, like I said, I like monotone with texture, but maybe not 70s texture...

Or maybe it's just the fact that the elastic always wears out in about 6 weeks and I keep having to pick it up off the floor sopping wet after someone didn't close the shower curtain all the way...

Ugh.

The prospects of a snow day were so promising on the way home from work yesterday.

Even though we'd stayed thismuch above freezing all day, the snow started coming down hard right around when I took this pic. I was wishing and hoping the water would freeze and the roads would cover over with snow. No such luck.

We're pretty big babies about the snow down south, so all the little kiddies in the entire region are out of school. But I still have to make my way to work.

Bleh. At least it's Friday.