Ah! Valentine's Day!

That day when Cupid's arrows fly, when love flourishes,

when thoughts of those we adore cause us to manifest such feelings, when one picks out big rocks from the Stone Center, when... hold it.  Rocks?!  Do you mean this kind of rock?

Nope.  Apparently, these are the kinds of rocks she really wants, so on February 14th, we hit the Stone Center.

OK, but what about flowers?

She wants the kind that pop up out of the ground, so on Valentine's Day she gardened.

How about going dancing?  Nice idea, but around here you could break a leg falling in to the crawl space.  (and Dave don't dance.)

OK, fine, but how about a romantic dinner?

This doesn't exactly peg the romance-o-meter, but we were lucky to have it in the freezer and to have a microwave that works, considering the recent destruction of the kitchen.

By the standards of the world, not much of a Valentine's Day.  However, if you look past all of that, and instead consider the 41 rich years we've had together, I think we're good.

Dave

Good fences make good neighbours

Or so said Robert Frost, in his poem, Mending Walls, published in 1914. 
If it's true, then we were becoming pretty bad neighbors.  The lady next door's live-in caretaker alerted us in August that the back fence was falling over.  My recent shoulder surgery and my basic slackitude prevented me from doing much about it other than running some ropes to trees to keep it from actually collapsing and crushing someone's cat.
I finally ran out of excuses, and so last week I took the thing down, and in so doing discovered that the posts had rotted at ground level, after having been placed only ten years ago,  Apparently, the rest of the fence, which is now some twenty-eight years old and still structurally sound, had benefited from earlier and now-prohibited wood preservatives.  I won't be shocked if the squirrels get cancer.

There's a rule that, "if you didn't take a picture, then it didn't really happen."  Unfortunately, no photos were taken of the tilting structure, probably from my embarrassment over how bad it all looked. During the end of the demolition, I snapped a shot of the last section, still strapped to a tree.  

Remember the dumpster?  Not only does it hold Paula's former kitchen, but now the old fence also.

Sadly, our good neighbor of 33 years died about two months ago.  Her house is vacant for the time being, which allowed me access to both sides of the fence, with her children's permission.  ("You're going to take care of that eyesore you call a fence?  Knock yourself out!")

Luckily, I have woman, "strong like ox," and with her assistance, new posts were soon planted

and the framing moved along.  At this point, I told Paula, "It's going to be a great big beautiful wall/fence!  And the neighbors are going to pay for it!!"  That part didn't work out.  

I made enough trips to Lowes that I am literally on a first-name basis with Gertrude, the check-out lady in the contractor part of the store.  In the end, the project came together in a reasonable fashion, and is consistent with the rest of the fencing of Paula's gardens. 

Our neighbor's house was well-built and taken care of, and should sell without a problem.  We hope that the new neighbors, whoever they are, turn out to be as nice as she was.  And with all of our other faults, at least they won't be muttering, "I'm telling you, (insert name of new neighbor), that dang fence is going to fall down and kill the cat."

We hope that your wood is better preserved, as well as your own self.

Dave & Paula

Progress?

In medicine, a 'catabolic' phase refers to a time when muscle, bones, proteins, fat or other structures and substances are being broken down by the body.  In kitchen renovation, it's that block of time when workmen gleefully rip everything apart, while earnestly claiming that "you'll see, it really goes fast once we start the building part."
It has been four weeks now, and we're still in the catabolic phase.  It all started pretty innocently, as the vinyl tile floors came up,

and then the subflooring, with much damage becoming apparent from The Great Flood of 1989.

Pretty soon, the whole dang floor was gone, and one had to be careful where one stepped.

Then part of a wall was taken out,

and this week the electrician went nuts ripping out sheetrock while trying to figure out the 56-year-old wiring.

So this is Paula's beautiful new kitchen, and I hope she's satisfied.  

I woke up in a cold sweat last night, with the awful thought that if the remodeling company went under right now, we'd be out a big deposit, and I'm not sure we'd be preparing many meals in the above-pictured kitchen.  

We hope that your kitchen re-do is moving along more expeditiously.

Dave & Paula