Breaking our promise

I think we have a good excuse. We really had planned to get a ton of stuff done. We promised. We were committed. We were motivated.

And then we were hurt.

Actually, Adam was hurt. He threw his back out at work on Friday. And then we were wet. On that front we were very lucky. I think Ike hit Arkansas as a tropical storm and quickly became a tropical depression. The winds were 50 mph or so, but no trees or limbs lost and no other damage that we could see. Our outside kitties ducked out Saturday morning. Sneaky was in hiding by 10am, and our new recruit, little Bella, ran off after her early morning visit with the vet. (Clean bill of health, btw. She's about 3 and has some scars and broken teeth from life on the streets, but otherwise ok, it seems.) They both came out yesterday evening when the coast was clear.

At any rate, I dedicated Saturday morning to bathing the dog, filling in all the backyard holes and tying down anything that might fly away.

The rain didn't come until later in the afternoon, and it was gone by Sunday morning. I got all the supplies to paint the porch ceiling and install the crown, but we decided to wait until everything was totally dry. So I focused my efforts elsewhere.

Sunday's beautiful, breezy, fresh and clean air meant we could turn off the a/c and open the windows. I mopped and finally unpacked boxes of pictures and trinkets.

I was hesitant to put holes in the walls, but I got over it. Yes, we have lived here 6 months and only just now are we getting around to hanging things on the walls. I also bought a new runner for the kitchen.

Doesn't it look lived in now?
My mother just bought the same rug, so she let us give it a test run before I bought it. And my favorite poster-- a watercolor that my mother did when I was little-- finally got a frame. Oh yeah; the sad little laundry room also got a burst of, er, neutral with some curtains.
That little tragedy of a room is going to have to get painted very, very soon. One day, it will have slate floor tiles. At the moment, though, our washing machine dances out into the middle of the room whenever it has a slightly less than full load. I know part of this will be fixed with better leveling, but I'm pretty sure the washer is on its way out. I'm shopping the scratch and dent stores. Until then, the room will remain the tragic mutant of this house. No love.

Just in case.

I think I'm ready...

Ready to talk about the move.

Let's start with the reassurance that all is well now. As you see, one little explorer is finally comfortable enough with the place to venture into the thinner atmosphere of the mantle:


However, it was not always so, for everyone involved. I'll warn you here, though, this may be terribly boring. It was traumatic to me and, like a no-good-very-bad hangover, has me saying I'll never move again. I think it's mostly a testament to how ill-prepared we were. At any rate, I won't be offended if you stop reading here ;-)

A couple of weeks ago, I began the task of reserving a truck. Uhaul gets terrible reviews and ain't cheap. Ryder and Budget are, you know, there. And are a little cheaper. But Penske seemed to be the best deal around. We got a 16 foot truck, including insurance and tax, for 48 hours and with no miles restrictions for the same price as a 17 footer from Uhaul for 24 hours with 85 miles before tax and insurance. I thought this seemed like the way to go just in case. Just in case we needed to make 2 trips. Just in case something happened to the truck. Just in case we needed to make a few extra stops. I didn't see any of this being an actuality, but...you know...just in case.

Day The First. We go to the mattress place with the truck to pick up our Denver Mattress (I know not house related, but I'd like to extol the virtues of Denver Mattress of Springdale, Arkansas in a later post). Well, the warehouse is closed on Thursdays and so a salesman-- the ONLY salesman-- had to get our mattress for us. A bit of a wait.

Then we had some car jockeying to do. This involved the jockeying of usable car batteries as well. And then driving 2 of these cars to Adam's parents' house. Then we had to rummage through his dad's tools to find allen wrenches that fit the passenger side mirror of the truck (it was waaayyy loose). By that time we needed lunch.

Speed up to the end of the day...Everything didn't fit. Everything we'll keep probably would have. However, we hadn't really thrown everything away that we'd planned to or taken everything to the salvation army. Trips to the landfill cost a small fortune in that town and we have some ridiculous extra cahrges for each bag of trash that sits outside the ONE trashcan. It's good for restricting waste, I guess. But bad for cleaning out the house. Fort Smith, on the other hand, has none of these problems. So we drove it down packed full of our furniture, unloaded our new mattress and slept with plans of returning the next day.

Day The Second. We got up early, unloaded the truck, drove it back up and loaded it again. Glad we had unlimited mileage. Glad we had 2 days. This time, we filled it with a lot of trash in addition to our stuff. We had also planned to clean and be done by day's end. Well, midnight rolls around, we have a sleepy ten year old and still have done no cleaning. So we leave. Unload the trash that night into our trailer. Unload the cats. And here's where it got really bad.

Our little guy you see up there? Totally laid back. Very chill. Nothing perturbs him. Easy going. The girls? They are total neurotic messes. One cried the whole way down, the other had to be cornered by two of us, one with a sheet and the other with a carrier and stuffed into her box. She kept trying to bite when we tried the more conventional route of, you know, just putting her in the box. Anyway, we took all their favorite blankets and toys and litter boxes and scratchers and cleaned out the laundry room for them. We didn't really think they'd need to be restricted to one room. This was just in case.

Well, we let the little man out of his box and he growls, bites, hisses, snarls, spits, grunts and otherwise acts like nothing we've seen from him. He won't let one of the other cats out of her cage. He cowers and lashes out at us. Meanwhile, the one that had to be trapped like a wilder animal than she is, was fine. She sniffed, she was interested, she let us pet her. It was very strange, indeed.

However, you can see that all is now well. It took a few days, but we're ok now. Better than before, I think. We'll see. So back to the move...

Day The Third. Get up at 6 am and unload truck. Return truck. Take trailer to dump. Wait in line at the dump for 45 minutes (it was $5 day at this landfill, making it a popular spot). We passed 30 cars in line on the way out. I'm not sure it would be worth saving the money at that point. Lunch-- mmmmm IHOP.

And a little leisurely unpacking, doing a few loads of dishes-- yeah that's right! We packed our dirty dishes. And our dirty clothes. Gotta test out the new appliances, right?

And here was the nice part-- it was 70º all weekend. Beautiful. Sunny. We grilled out and spent much time on the porch and patio.

Day The Fourth. Mill around house in the morning, and spend all afternoon at the old house cleaning, saying goodbye, and otherwise reminiscing.

And now we're in. It's been a long, long weekend. But we've cooked a couple of meals in the kitchen. Used all the appliances. Run into a few problems with the hot water heater. I'll post about some of those things later.

It just seemed like the move alone deserved a little special attention all by itself.

It's been real.

Goodbye, old house.

It finally happened. After 4 long, long days of moving, the nostalgia hit last night during our final Swiffering and key collection. You know, it wasn't a bad house. As mid-century houses go, it certainly had a lot of the things I don't like-- small, louvered windows and outdated appliances, low ceilings. It had rental grade hollow core doors, and years of floor abuse (ours included). But for the first time, I could see some potential. The floors could be beautiful, and the rooms would benefit tremendously from some crown molding. A kitchen update would go a long way, as would central air so that the tiny windows aren't entirely occupied by A/C units. It's been a solid little house.

I know, however, that there's not a great likelihood that someone will renovate it. All the houses in the neighborhood are falling one by one to be replaced by apartment complexes. Our house has an empty lot beside it, so I imagine it'll start looking pretty good to a developer soon. And that makes me sad for the house and for the neighborhood in general.

During our 3 day epic cleaning spree, we discovered all kinds of things we'd never paid attention to-- like the fact that the used refrigerator that we got to replace the avacado green monster, was the same brand as the rest of the appliances.

Lots of good memories in that house.

A few neat little mid-century details:

The Roper brown range and oven, with pink Formica surround:



Louvered picture window:


Thanks, little house.

We're in!

Now we just have to get out...We managed to fill up a 16 foot truck and we still have to go back today for more and to give the place a quick scrub down. Because we were nice tenants like that. Living in a place 10 years, you treat it like your own, at least to a point. We've replaced outlets and plumbing, Adam painted it when he moved in. We called Roto Rooter when tree roots invaded the pipes periodically, and we kept said tree's branches clear of the power lines. And we never asked the landlords to fix these things, nor did we ever ask for compensation. We've been grateful for cheap rent and plenty of space in a town where both are becoming a novelty. We've been happy to be quiet tenants who never complain, and we've mostly been left alone to do just that.

We like the person who manages the property (she works for an owner who doesn't like making repairs)-- she's really gone to bat for us, getting things done that we'd just figured would be fruitless requests. We're sorry that she's going to have tenants who will demand basic upkeep (as they should!) and make it even harder for her to get the owner to cough up the money. Or have college students that party and trash the place. I was never crazy about it, but it's been a good house, all things considered. Frankly, with a little attention on their part, they could be charging a whole lot more.

Adam and I spent yesterday trying to muster up some sadness at leaving-- some kind of teary-eyed regret. I know he and his daughter have a lot of memories there, and I do too. I've lived there longer than in almost any other house. But it just wasn't coming. I think we're ready to move on.

Success.

Finally, things are lighting up, firing up, running and scrubbing as they are meant to. Which is a good thing, because we are a mere 3 days from M-day.

Adam's folks were awesome enough to drive their van down Saturday loaded with stuff...And it's finally not just nameless, faceless boxes-- it's personal.


It's making it feel so much more like a home. Well, that and the fact that I've been staying down there for almost a week nursing my mom and my sister through the flu.

And while the folks were here, they helped us get some final coats of paint on the walls, and Adam's dad coached him through the last of the appliance installations, thus, the lighting and firing, etc.:



When they turned on the dishwasher, and told us it was on, Adam's mom and I went literally running into the kitchen to see-- 'cause we sure weren't believing what we heard. Which was nothing-- that thing is soooo quiet. Unlike the icemaker, which tumps a load of still black ice (black from all the "pipes-sitting-unused" crud) and then loudly hisses water into the tray every so often. But I'll get used to it. Been a long time since I had such a convenience, so I'm not bitching. Just acclimating myself to new sounds.

Sunday, we got our base shoe cut and painted. We'll get these nailed up and then tackle painting the rest of the trim one room at a time during the spring when we can open windows and get some fresh air-- in case you missed it, our POs screwed us over a few ways with the baseboards, as in, they didn't remove them to drywall. Hence, baseboard and other trim painting will be done in situ. In place. On the wall. In the house. It's oil paint, so it's pretty stinky. We'll need a good solid spring breeze to keep us from passing out in the fumes.


Lots left to do, but at least we'll be in the house soon.

Oh-- and I got to try out the new shower curtain, bath rug, and shower head, and they were simply wonderful.

"Blue is your best color...No, red I think."

Whoever said it was a white sale?

Whatever it is, there are bargains all over, yet again. I found this burgundy bath mat (colors may appear pinker on screen) at Target for $17. Normally that's WAAAY more than I'd spend, but it was on clearance, I think it's just the right color, and it's one of those double-thickness luxury spa bathmats. I'm looking forward to plopping my wet feet on it soon!

(Update: UGH! SO much pinker on the monitor; such a lovely rich DARK burgundy in real life...)

The other rug is a 6 foot runner that I plan to use in the kitchen in front of the sink. It was on clearance for $10 at Bed Bath and Beyond, and I think it'll add a nice splash of red to the house-- we have so much yellow and green that we really need some balance.

I also found a burr grinder at Wal-Mart (who I hate, but which I occasionally can't avoid) for $13. If I'm going to get an espresso machine, that'll be a necessity. But with my luck, I'll never get around to buying an espresso machine and the grinder will just mock me from the countertops. So I declined.

And Adam and I narrowed our sleep choices down to two Denver mattresses that WE LOVE. Now, granted, we haven't actually bought them yet or slept in one. But the sales people were great-- knowledgeable with no pressure whatsoever. The prices were unbeatable, and frankly anything is better for my back than what we have. I just can't do a firm mattress, I guess.

The worst anxiety dream I ever had involved getting a Sleep Number bed and being unable to get the right number-- I tossed and turned all night. The best from the 3 or so anxiety dreams this week involved random neighbors showing up with a giant reciprocating saw-- a 10-foot blade-- and cutting our fence down to nubbins, claiming it belonged to them. They even cut down the length and gate that we built.

See? I need a new mattress!

Ok. It's back to packing-- our poor dining room has turned into Box Central. In the process, though, I was reminded of how much I like our dining room table-- it's been covered with so much shit the last few months.


T-minus 11 days to move.

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?

I love it when a plan comes together.

This jetlag business has its benefits; I was up, showered and dressed by 7 this Saturday morning. And our early start yielded a lot of good results.

We chose our base shoe and found the cheapest price.

We picked a red paint for the bathroom: Spanish Tile from Lowe's Valspar red tinted base colors. Also narrowed it down to 2 yellows for the kitchen. We got quarts of each and tested them. I've been left to make the final decision, which I believe will be Yellow Frost from the Waverly Home series at Lowe's. Perhaps tomorrow will yield pics of some painted rooms...

We got the remaining top kitchen cabinets hung:



There's still A LOT that we couldn't solve here...one cabinet simply has to hang a bit lower than the others. Hopefully, we can hang one set of doors a bit lower and one set a bit higher so there's not a huge discrepancy in the door heights.

We got the floor gaps filled; we investigated the kitchen floor crack and it is not NEARLY as bad as I expected. It seems to expand and contract with the weather and isn't something we really need to worry about. Knock on wood.

Then, while wandering around Home Depot pricing base shoe, we found a wall cabinet for the bathroom on clearance (!!!) and I ran across two $35 wall sconces at Lowe's that I like almost as much as the $85 ones from Rejuvenation. Well, with the $100 difference taken into account. I'm still talking myself into needing them in the first place. I just have a completely irrational hatred of the existing bathroom lights.

And last but certainly not least, we MOVED the first van load of our crap.



Now we're getting somewhere.

Back to work

Well, for me at least. Adam finished putting the final coat of poly on the floors this week. I've been in London with my sister, so I just saw the final product this morning. I think they look great. He tells me that there's a crack in the kitchen floor, where some of the boards move. I couldn't see it, but maybe that's just because I hadn't had my coffee yet.

Now, before we move in, we need to:
-secure the kitchen floor boards so there's no more cracking
-put the final coat of poly down on the kitchen floors (It got an extra coat of shellac, so it's one step behind)
-paint the kitchen and
-reinstall and paint the kitchen trim so that we can...
-install the appliances
-begin the kitchen counters and secure the cabinets so that we can...
-begin finalizing the plumbing in the kitchen
-install base shoe over the gap between floor and baseboard and paint the trim in the rest of the house (no more drafts cooling the floors whilst the heat pump works overtime)
-finish packing 10 years worth of accumulated stuff and cleaning 10 years worth of accumulated grime

And I think that's our list for moving in. It's my new year's resolution, I guess. I don't mind working on the kitchen after we move in, but I want to have the appliances available to use. We're broke enough as it is, so we don't need any more excuses to eat out. Replacing the trim is going to be a chore-- the sheetrock is a different thickness than the plaster and lathe, meaning we'll have to trim and shim and jockey the old pieces into place. And with a gas stove and a fridge with a water line hook up, it kind of needs to be done before the appliances are put into place. Or at least, it'll be a ton easier if we do it before. Things like refinishing cabinet doors and some of the countertop tiling can wait. We have a rolling butcher block cart that can suffice as counter for a bit. I was also a little worried about the poly cracking on the kitchen floors, but to be honest, there's so much going on there, that's the least of those floors' problems. We ended up just shellacking over the water stain-- it made it somewhat darker, and it's totally obvious, but I think once we get our island in place and the dark counters installed-- and with all the nail holes and linoleum stains and the runner I use in front of the sink and...well, there's just so many problems, that in the end it seemed silly to worry about the a water stain, albeit a huge one, in an overall "rustic" floor. We'll probably put down thresholds in the doorways to demarcate the kitchen as "different" and "special."

Embracing the Crazy in this house.

Anyway, now that I've had a week away from the house and some general vacation time, and a chance to actually miss this project, I'm ready to get back to it.

Onward and upward, I suppose.

And Happy New Year, everyone!