The Long Cut ...we'll get there eventually

My Lovely Lumps

Boy, nothing kills your blogging output like having 12,000 pounds of gravel and sand dumped on your driveway.

... and it turns out it's gonna take still another half-ton of each to finish the base for our new/redone patio.

... and they're dumping 2,400 paving bricks on the driveway tomorrow (well, hopefully not dumping, but carefully placing).

Man, I'd sure hate to be the person who has to move all this stuff all the way around to the back of the house! You'd have to be crazy to move all this stuff yourself! Ha!

Wait a minute...

[Photo credit: the Missus.]

What's Irish And Makes Frequent Blogging Downright Near Impossible?

Paddy O' Expansion.

Should be done just in time for winter! Posting's gonna slow down a bit (even more than it has lately), but hopefully this project won't take up too much of my free time. The project after this one - replacing the kitchen cabinets (and kitchen floor... and kitchen lighting...) - now that one's going to take up all free time.

[Photo credit: the Missus.]

Spin Doctor

Last week our washer started whining like it was going to take off whenever it went into the spin cycle. A little Internet research told me that there was probably something stuck in the pump assembly. Now, normally, I would have stopped my research right there, satisfied that I could at least tell my $80-an-hour repairman what I thought was wrong with it and salvage some of my manliness in front of him.

This time, however, I decided to cowboy up and find out exactly how to get to that pump assembly (huh, huh... pump). Friday night, I opened the washer up (which is easy once you find out where the hidden screws are) and unsnapped the pump (again, real easy - not even any screws involved), watched as gallons of water poured out of it (whoops!), looked inside of it and saw that little piece of plastic pictured up there looking back at me.

The piece was a bit bigger than the pump's discharge tube (obviously, or it wouldn't gotten stuck), but I reached in with some needle-nose pliers and pulled out the obstruction (and let me tell you, the washer was angry that day, my friends*).

The piece of plastic had cracked off that fabric softener dispenser thingie that sits on the spinning adgitating thingie in the washer (not to get too technical). The nickels are just there for scale (I know people usually show the item next to a dime, but I didn't have a dime handy when I took the picture).

So yeah, I fixed our washer and saved us a few hundred bucks and finally gave the missus a good reason for keeping me around a little longer. Woo-Hoo! Spray 'n Wash for everyone!

[*That's my second Seinfeld reference in a row, my friends.]

And Quite A Bit On The Painter As Well

Just in case you're wondering where I've been the last few days (and where I'll be tomorrow, too). The sign's by the nine-year-old, but the ingenious idea of attaching the mailbox to the ladder? That was all me. (We also rented a powerwasher this weekend, which explains why the porch steps look like they just came out of a dermabrasion session.)

I'm Not Tired... Or Proud. No, Wait, I Am Tired. And Proud.

Of the six Broad Street Runs I've done, yesterday's offered by far the best running conditions I've ever experienced at the 10-mile race. It was slightly chilly - but not too chilly to run in shorts and short sleeves - and a strong wind was at our backs the whole time. Almost perfect conditions - perfect conditions would have probably included a little cloud cover, but since I didn't get sunburned, I'm not complaining.

Not that I was in perfect condition, either. Last year I was ready for this race. I had a few ten and thirteen mile runs under my belt going into that race, and while I didn't hit my goal of 70 minutes, I did set a new personal best.

So far this year, my running has been all stops and starts, with a few weeks of little or no running at all. For long runs the best I've been able to do has been some seven- and eight milers. Some of this was due to the cold weather and some of it was due to a busy schedule, but I think most of it was due to being burned out from running so many miles last year.

Whatever the reason, I set much more realistic goals for this year's race - I would have loved finishing in 80 minutes, liked 85 minutes, and (somewhat) gladly would have settled for 90 minutes. Those goals weren't even set until I had already started the race. On top of my low mileage so far this year, Saturday's pre-race warmup run (which was supposed to be a nice and easy three miles) didn't go well at all and was followed by a 1st Communion/Cinco De Mayo party (only in my neighborhood would they think to combine the two). So I wanted to see how I felt that first mile before setting goals.

I ended up going out pretty fast and surprising myself by staying around that pace mile after mile - even after my headphones decided to stop working around mile four. I had a little trouble around mile six where I had to shake some negative thoughts (I usually get these when I'm worn-down, but even when I'm doing so well?!?). A sports gel and a potty-less potty break around mile seven and I was back into the power of positive thinking and pretty much smiled my way into a 78:18 finish.

It might have been wind-assisted (there was even a new course - and I think national - record set in the men's race), and it wasn't my best time at the distance, but it was still the best I've felt during a race in a long time. That's about the best I could hope for after such a poor start to my running this year.

[As I was happily finishing my race, someone else was getting put onto a stretcher - just past the finish line. It's always a scary scene when a stretcher is needed - pulled hamstrings and cramped calves rarely require being carted off - and this one had a sad ended. A 29-year-old man collapsed and died immediately after finishing the race - according to the race results, just 26 seconds before I had finished. They're still trying to figure out the cause of death.]

Pipe Dream

Here's where that pipe broke, after I went and done fixed it all up:

It wasn't as simple as it looks (if you think of installing a coupling as simple, that is). It also required replacing the whole pipe that feed into that coupling.

Pretty snazzy, huh?

I'm pretty handy with the plumbing, if I do say so myself. [I just wouldn't move that bucket anytime soon, if I were you.]

Pipe Nightmare

This was part of the pipe coming out of our sink/disposal/dishwasher and into the sewer pipe - the part that was cracked and letting wastewater drip into our basement for god knows how long (hmm, we thought something smelled funny).

Approach The Bench

Anticipating the possibility of a post-Super Bowl party hangover, I went into work for a while on Sunday so that I could take today off as a recovery day. Turns out that I only ended up drinking a few beers (Yuengling, Yuengling, and... Yuengling - guess what I brought to the party) so I had no excuse not to get something done around the house on my day off.

After a nice Starbucks trip with the missus, I decided I would clean up my workshop. I do most of my home improvement projects outside the workshop, so it usually fills up with mislaid tools, paint cans, rags, and anything else that I didn't feel like putting away for the last six months. Then, when I need to actually use my workbench, I've got about three square inches of space to work on.

So I put everything away where it belonged and as I was sweeping up I noticed - hiding behind the furnace - the Sears Craftsman Quick Clamping Work Table that I snagged from someone's trash [already scratched, dented, and paint-stained for me!] about four years ago. I put it back there meaning to replace the four or five bolts it was missing and then pretty much forgot about it. It's easy to see how I would have forgotten about it, my having so much available workspace and all. Plus it's not like I've been jonesing for one of these things since about the fourth grade or anything.

But that all changed today. A few nuts, a few bolts, and I've got myself a fine new addition to the workshop. I've already starting thinking about the many projects I can build* on this thing.

If you listen real close, you can hear Norm Abram shaking in his boots.

*[And by "projects I can build" I of course mean "tools I can pile".]

[And yes, as you can see from the photo, I do staple my race bibs to my workshop walls (and some of the ceiling, too). Doesn't everybody?]

It's Curtains For You, Mugsy, Curtains

Fact: there are very few, if any, man-made products that smell better than a new shower curtain liner. Am I right, or am I right?

It's downright intoxicating.

And, come to think of it, probably more than a little toxic. But still.

All [Blank]ed Out

Anybody want to guess what big home improvement project is on [blank] for us this Spring/Summer?

It's something that will add to our equity, so we're doing more than just rearranging the [blank] chairs or simply shuffling the [blank] here. No, we're definitely swinging for the upper [blank] with this one. Hopefully we won't feel as if somebody [blank]ed us after it's done.

Anyone who hasn't figured it out by now clearly isn't playing with a full pack of cards [blank].

I'm Pretty Sure It Is, But You Might Want To Get The Missus' Opinion On This One

Sometimes driving into work is more interesting than taking the train.

[Seen on the Ben Franklin Bridge]

Fan Clubbed

The painting bender continues...

You know I love the home improvement shows, and any show worth its salt will tell you that the first step of a successful painting project is making sure the surface is clean. But here's one tip that I've never heard mentioned on any of these programs:

Before attempting to clean the ceiling, make sure the ceiling fan is OFF.

May I Cut In?

I have spent most of my MLK weekend painting the eight-year-old's bedroom. Ceiling, trim, walls. Extra difficulty points for having to deal with an "accent wall." Triple word score for having the boy "help" me paint.

For a little while today I actual contemplated trying to figure out just how many gallons of paint I have laid down in my lifetime, but I couldn't count that high. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy painting (at least for the first few days of a project). It's something you can do that doesn't require too much thinking, yet it also offers the opportunity to be anal-retentive. That's a good combination for me, being the dim-witted perfectionist that I am.

What I don't like about painting is cutting in. Trying to perfectly paint alongside trim without wavering. It's always been a struggle for me, but this time it seems like I finally got it. Not perfect, but much better than usual - it shouldn't take me too long to touch it up. Something's weird about that, since this is the first painting project I've done since I started drinking coffee. How is it that my hand is steadier now that I'm on the juice?

And I admit that I'm having a hard time justifying painting my house on MLK Day, which really isn't an appropriate activity for honoring Dr. King. Home Depot, on the other hand, seems to see a link between King and painting. How else would you explain this rebate:

 

You know, they use Veteran's Day for sales, Labor Day is just one last chance to get to the beach, and they use Abe Lincoln impersonators to sell cars in February. Is this MLK rebate the start of finding a commercial use for MLK Day? Will a Dr. King impersonator ever be used for a Toyotathon? Lord knows I don't want to be around to see that, but what's the difference between using Lincoln and using King? Just that it's too soon?

If this thought is a litle too off-the-wall, keep in mind that I've been inhaling paint fumes for the last 13 hours.

Fanz 'n' The Hood

'Twas the weekend before Christmas, and all through the house,

I was installing new products, just like a good spouse.

On ceiling fans (two), and an oven exhaust hood.

Putting up stuff like I know I should.

[...something, something, something....]

And now my butt is dog tired, alright?

I'm pumping out this post, and then it's Good Night!

[apologies to Clement Clarke Moore]

Habitat For New Vanity

Even if you try to avoid all the Queen-for-a-Day style home improvement shows like I do, you still can’t escape their reach. From the missus' blog (where she professes her devotion to St. Ty of Pennington) to the Today Show (where they have transformed Rockefeller Plaza into “Humanity Plaza,” site of a makeshift modular home factory) to news that the First Lady will appear on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (no doubt trying to reverse all the negative Gulf Coast vibes by flashing her bizarre, Joker-like smile at the downtrodden victims of Katrina).

Long before they sold their soul by giving BushCo yet another unwarranted chance to look good, I was creeped-out by Extreme Makeover. While it’s must-see TV for the missus, I can barely stand even being in the room while it’s on. The missus watches a few shows that I don’t like, but I can usually tune those shows out while with a good book. That's not the case with Extreme Makeover.

The thing is, when the missus asks me why I hate it so much, I have a hard time pinpointing my objections to the show. I’ve brought up the fact that it has a lottery mentality – where all your problems will go away if you just had a big new house. Since many of the families they help out live in economically depressed areas, I think the houses they build are inappropriate for their surroundings. I’m not saying that poor people can’t improve their homes but having a tricked-out mini-mansion show up (free!) in one week can’t be good for neighborhood relations, no matter how many smiling people show up for the unveiling. Also, since it’s often a minority family getting a hand up, I think the all-white cast unintentionally gives the impression that, once again, the white man has to save the day. And man, some of the dialog is so so contrived.

But those are all minor objections when you consider all the good these shows do, right? Well, I don’t think so, but like I said, I can’t figure out how to diagnose my disgust with these shows.

Luckily for me, Paul Brownfield of the LA Times, like Laura Bush after a category 5 political storm, has come to the rescue. His article, “Something Crass Lucks Behind The Do-Gooder Smile” hits the nail on the head (please forgive the pun). The article’s subtitle, “Charity on TV is never just about helping, it’s about being seen helping” covers why otherwise perky people like Katie Couric and Matt Lauer and the First Lady are so intent on getting their fingers dirty, but the article also goes into the whole strange culture of those charity shows.

I suggest you read the whole article, but there are some lines I really liked:

There are any number of complex emotional reactions the receiver of such largesse can have, but "Extreme Makeover" was clear: The camera probed his stoic soldier's gaze for gratitude or some moment of emotional catharsis, waiting for the payoff, until the whole thing became, inevitably, pornographic.

[…]

To be sure, the subjects are willing, even vying, to be on these shows, but there's still an unsettling transaction taking place: Make your private pain public, act it out for us, let us set it to music, and let us appear to have grown from our proximity to you. And in exchange we will give you a new house and a ride in a stretch limo and who knows what else — all the goodies that will inevitably, by their very goodi-ness, fix your problems. Oh, but we're only here for a week.

[…]

"Stop looking at your stuff for two seconds," Couric said at one point, trying to direct her back to center stage. She wanted little Jada to dance again.

[…]

The Bushes have visited Louisiana and Mississippi multiple times without creating a convincing narrative about their compassion. So Mrs. Bush is resorting to a surer thing, guesting on a series where the compassion, if it doesn't come across live, can be cobbled together in the editing room.

And, since I advertise myself as being self-righteous, I dig the article’s end:

"But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret," goes the Gospel of Matthew. Failing this, goes the gospel according to TV giving, put both hands together and give yourself a round of applause.

I have a feeling that this post isn’t going to put me in the missus’ good graces. Think Ty will come over and build a doghouse for me?

[Photo: Morry Gash / AP]

Huh-huh, You Said "Tool"

In another attempt to embarrass my family, I give you:

Ten Tools That Sound Just A Little Too Dirty

1. Stud Finder
2. Nut Driver
3. Plumb Bob
4. Pull-Stroke Saw
5. Screw Extractor
6. Bastard File
7. Western Groover
8. Pocket Hole Jig
9. Drill Press
10. Pipe Bender

That last one actually sounds kind of painful, but whatever floats your boat.

Screen Test

Hanging a screen door is one of the most frustrating home improvements, but the results are great because it means instant curb appeal. And home ownership is all about the curb appeal.

It seems like everything in our house has to be special ordered, and the screen door was no exception. Our front door is a couple inches taller than your average door, so we had to get a custom one made through Lowe's. You would think that a custom-made door would fit perfect, but I ended up having to bulk up the opening by a half-inch. I think the saleswoman misinformed me about which measurements to use when I ordered the door (she said to measure the existing door, not the opening).

But everything is fine now and everyone is happy. The old door was dingy and only had a screen on the top half, so the bottom half of our very cool front door had been hidden. For five years we've wanted to do this.

Next up for me is re-carpeting the arts and crafts room. God, that makes it sound like we live in a mansion. Shall we adjourn to the arts and craft room? Actually it's just a tiny little spare room that houses all the boys crafts crap and the treadmill. It's a room where the boys can get away with making a mess, but the current rug is a little too much of a mess.

I was going to have someone come in and re-carpet it, but then I saw a new carpet product at Home Depot. Legato carpet panels supposedly allow you to lay them down without using glue. They also have just as much padding as a regular carpet and if one gets messed up, you just pop out that tile and replace it. I figure I'll try them in the arts and craft room and if it works well there I'll try it with our bedroom floor. I think the real test will be how well they hold up under the weight of the treadmill.

Stay tuned for more home improvement tales. Now if I could just get the roofer to return my calls.

Paint Restraint

When we moved into our house nearly five years ago the stairway walls were already finger-printed up and badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. Raising two boys in the house definitely hasn't helped the situation. But it's been a project I have put off and put off because I've never been able to figure out a way to paint the high walls of the stairway. I'm too afraid of heights to get up on a ladder on the steps, but what other option did I have, paying someone to paint in my house? Pu-leeze!

Well, apparently the statute of procrastination is five years, because the missus talked me into letting a professional painter come in and do the job. We lucked out by finding someone who seemed to know what he was doing on the first try. We agreed to have him paint not just the stairway but the foyer at the foot of the steps and the hallway at the top of the stairs. After a few disagreements, the missus picked a color that we could both agree on, MAB's Light Khaki.

I have to say that as much of an emasculating hit my ego took, it was nice to come home to nice clean walls after only two days. No muss, no fuss. I just wish the seven-year old would stop asking me why I can't paint that fast.

I better start another painting project around here before my Bob Vila-ish mystique is completely gone.

I See A IKEA

As a respite from painting the dining room (I’m about 97% done), everyone piled into the minivan and hit the new South Philadelphia IKEA last Sunday. In addition to the happy fact that the new IKEA is only 10 minutes away and I no longer have to sit in Schuylkill Expressway traffic for an hour to get to the store they stuck out in the PA suburbs, the new store is also a fun place to visit - bright, spacious, well-organized, and clean.

The older IKEAs (like the original Plymouth Meeting store and the one across from Newark airport) were like casinos - windowless - so you had no idea how long you had been shopping. You'd come out to load your car and find out it you had been in there three days.

The decision to place the South Philadelphia IKEA's parking lot in front of the store rather than behind or under it was a poor one since the large cafeteria windows now overlook the parking lot (and the auto parts store within it) rather than the nearby Delaware River.

A good thing about the cafeteria: if you buy breakfast there they will take the amount of your breakfast off your furniture purchase. So it's like getting a free breakfast. Just don't eat too many of their hash browns or you'll be burping up peppers while you put the furniture together (this comes from personal experience).

The cafeteria even has a baby section (with a microwave, bottle warmer, bibs, and diapers) and a kids section with a TV running cartoons on a loop. This in addition to the playroom where you can drop the brats off (which, despite being located in the hard, cold city, was staffed by nicer people than those in the bright, sunny suburbs).

Who doesn't like IKEA? God bless you, Ingvar Kamprad, you should be awarded the Noble Prize. I guess you'll just have to settle for being the richest guy in the world.

The missus and I had budgeted some of our Home Equity Line funds for new bedroom furniture and ended up getting it at IKEA. We also picked up a couple things for the boys’ rooms but were unable to find a baker’s rack that would satisfy our need for storage but still fit in the small corner of the kitchen. For the past ten years our microwave has sat on an old bedroom dresser and we’re tired of looking at it.