I Am Not A Carpenter

We made just a little progress on the house last weekend. We hung curtains and a rod in the master bedroom closet. The curtains went up without a hitch. Sorry no photos of the window treatments. It also illustrated what a genius Scarlet is when it comes to picking colors.

Me: "Wow, the curtains match the clawfoot tub! That looks great! Did you do that on purpose?"

Scarlet: "Thank you. Yes, I did."

Me: "Genius!"

Maybe I'm easy to impress?

We've been putting off hanging the rod in the master bedroom closet since we moved into the Queen. We kept hoping that we'd save up enough money to have it lined with cedar and have some built-in shelving installed too. Gasoline at $4.00 a gallon and rising food prices sucked up all of our financial slack a long time ago, yet the dream lingered on. Finally, we decided just to hang the damn rod so we could unpack all of our clothes and get all the freaking boxes and tubs off the floor.

Hanging the rod was pretty easy, and it went really well except for the part where stuck a 1 1/2 drill into the back of hand just below my thumb. I was drilling out a hole in a block of wood to hold one end of the rod. I'd already done the one for the other side, so this was the last one. At the very end, the bit hung-up in the hole, jumped, and slashed a checkmark shaped cut in my hand. It was a new bit, so it was a very clean cut. I experienced profuse bleeding and a moment of total shock as I convinced myself that I'd cut it all the way down to the bone. In truth, it was deep, but only skin deep.

This illustrates two important points. First, I have a great imagination. Second, I am not a carpenter. While I theoretically know how to use tools and occasionally do so with some success, I am not a carpenter. Instead, I am pretender at best or at worst, a man with a latent death wish and an inability to recognize his own limitations. To be honest, if I wasn't a damn snob who liked to build his own canvases for oil painting, I'd probably sell or give away all my power tools once we're done with this place. It's something to think about at any rate.

Fiddle While Rome Burns

As part of our on-going Fiddle While Rome Burns divertimentos, Scarlet and I abandoned the Devil Queen to its fate (which is saying something since most of the state has been experiencing 100 year floods with six months of rain in six weeks) and took a decadent three day excursion which included a seven course tasting menu with wine pairings at Ashley's at the Capitol Hotel, horse races, a spa, ducks, raw oysters, Guinness, scotch, a college reunion, shopping, and more.

And, if that weren't enough, we sandwiched all of this in between plant hauling, ditch digging, landscaping, gravel hauling, and house cleaning.

Work hard and play hard because life is short.

Spring Forward?

I don't know if I can actually count this as progress on the house, but I finally ordered some spring-bronze from Kilian Hardware (recommended by Stucco House). What I find myself wondering is why I didn't order some of this in November instead of getting vigorously violated by the electric company for the entire winter? Contrary to everything I've believed up to this point in my life, I guess I just like it in the ass.



Now, if no one gets violently ill in the next 48 hours, we might get to take advantage of the beautiful weather they've forecasted for the weekend and work on some house projects. A wild idea, I know.

Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, or Less is More

If I were to attempt a concise summary, it might go something like this: "Refuse prevents the refinishing of the dining room floor," or, even better than that, "What is all of this shit?"

Really, what is it? Why have I gone to such great length to keep it with me until now only to toss it into the trash last night with a curse? After only three hours of intensive labor and soul searching, I have found my dining room floor. And, now that I've cleared the deck for action, I'm going to spend the weekend outside painting window sashes and hanging storm windows. Can you see why this whore of a house isn't finished?

We're supposed to have a full week of blue sky and sun, so I figure this may be my last chance to get the storm windows up. That way, when February rolls around, my frozen ass won't be handing over the better part of a paycheck to the electric company every month.

I've decided that less is definitely more. Owning a room full of thirty years of shit in cardboard boxes, stacked to the ceiling as though placed there by mischievous poltergeists, is bad mojo. Try it sometime if you don't believe me. I'll bet serious money that you will eventually find yourself raving alone in a dark, cold house saying shit like, "Why??? You have got be kidding me! Shit! Shit! Shit! What is all of this? Cthulhuflagen, Yog-Sothoth , goat with a thousand spawn flibrishermagagiagiiii!"

Not pretty, is it?

Anyhow, even if the floor isn't finished yet, we have been at work. First, we may have painting assistance lined up to work until the old whore house is finished. And, there is allegedly a plumber coming Saturday to make a bid on Plumbing Remediation 2.0.

Wish us luck. And, if Mars is in opposition and Saturn is crossing Orion (and no rain), maybe I'll even take some damn pictures of what we've been up to here at the Devil Queen. A novel idea, no?

Busy Buggers

The Devil Queen has been a progress-free zone for most of the week. Last weekend the whole family was ravaged by a stomach bug. It kind of set the tone for the rest of the week. Had some side projects to attend to and then we got two days of torrential rain (2 inches in 24 hours), so last night was the first night I came directly home and worked on the house. Basically, I'm still painting the Watertight on the skirt. No where close to finished. I know you must be terribly shocked.

We've managed to line up another busy weekend of non-house activities. We're going to have to quit doing this on such a regular basis. One, if we ever hope to finish the house, I suspect it would help to work on it. Just an idea. Two, I'm really tired: weary, exhausted, whatever. Sleeping for twenty four hours without going to crappy old people birthdays or having a three year old vomit on you at 4 AM would be nice. Really.

Oops. Sorry, that sounds a lot like complaining. We can't have any of that now. But, while I am at it, I have one more thing to add to my list. Our parlor/bedroom #3 smells like monkey ass. We've been trying to sort through all of the stuff from our storage room in hopes of evicting it from the house. I don't know what it was we packed, but, whatever it was, we probably shouldn't have judging from the funk.

And, a couple weeks back, someone asked if I had any art or paintings of the Devil Queen. The answer is yes. I found one piece, and, if you are interested in it, here it is. It was painted last summer before the Devil Queen was painted.

Anyhow, busy weekend. More later in theory.

Old, Fat, Tired, and Sore

And it was still a pretty damn good weekend. Decided to forego puttying and patching the dining room floor. The weather was too good to waste. Instead, we prepped the porches, decks, and skirting for priming and painting. We made decent time, but we're nowhere near finished. We have maybe six weeks to get her painted and sealed-up before it gets too cold and wet for paint to cure. Pictures will follow soon.

Goodwill Industries, Suck My ----

As part of our ever on-going effort to find the floor, we took a truckload of old clothes, kitchen wares, et cetera to Goodwill in Russellville last Saturday.

We pull up at the drop-off door in back of the store. A very puckered lady steps out and scowls at our truck load of stuff. I can't tell if a hard-life has soured her or if a lifetime of nasty thoughts and deeds has stained her with a black, indelible mark.

"We don't take furniture." The two bar stools are the only furniture in the truck.

"What about the rest of it?"

"We can't take it, it's not boxed right so we can send it to Little Rock. And we don't take furniture." What? We've been bringing stuff here for years. This has never been a problem.

A rat of a man comes out and joins us. "We can't take any of this. Sorry, we don' take furniture."

"Well, is there anywhere that we can take it?" I try not to sound too exasperated. I mean I don't usually take donations to charities as a pretense for picking a fight.

The puckered prune sneers, "You can take it to MARVA, they'll take it."

Right.

I climb back into the truck. Scarlet says, "You'd think we pulled up with a truckload of shit they way they looked at it."

"Yeah, and what the fuck was their deal about the furniture? You'd think that’s all we'd brought. Assholes."

I drove down to MARVA. They were the nicest people. And, they took everything. We're going to take them another load next week or so.

Haze and Hickories

That is right. Since things are starting to calm down some, I've started painting again. It's been a while so I'm a little rusty, but here is my most recent painting. If anyone is interested in it, please let me know since I now have a new computer and a mortgage to payoff.

Anyhow, hopefully we'll have a productive and fun weekend. I know the very idea of it is shocking. If we're lucky, I'll have some progress to show you all come Monday.

Have a good weekend if you can. Cheers.

Doldrums & Doubt for the Weekend

Maybe the weeks just catching up with me. I feel like some bull bled out in an abattoir, motionless and warm waiting at that last black door.

The rain and humidity foiled my schedule last night. I'd planned to put down a layer of poly on the laundry room floor, but it was tacky in a few places so I let it be. I managed to do a few things, but none of them satisfied my need for progress.

So, what did I do? I caulked the window trim in Gideon's room, caulked some of the hall wainscoting, put three coats of primer on the laundry room door, and re-glazed the window glass in the front door. That last item was . . . interesting. I didn't much care for it to be honest. I didn't break the glass and it doesn't look like complete ass, but it's nothing to brag about either.

As I stumbled to bed, I was over come with my moment of doubt for the week.

Here is the to-do list I try not to think about too much:

1) Main hall: paint trim & wainscoting; outlet covers; scrape, prime, caulk, paint ceiling; install light fixtures; refinish all doors & install hardware; lay & finish floor; stain & shellac crown molding; install corner trim.
2) Foyer: prime & paint everything; refinish doors; lay & finish floor; install light fixture and switch covers; install corner time.
3) Master bedroom: finish priming (70% complete); paint everything; refinish floor; outlet and switch covers; finish closet and door; install ceiling fan/lights.
4) Front (Bay Window) Bedroom: everything.
5) Gideon's room: paint closet; finish built-in; paint trim; refinish floor; switch and outlet covers.
6) Living Room & Dining Room: everything.
7) Kitchen: finish painting trim and vent hood.
8) Rear Hall: prime & paint.
9) Hall Bath: install light fixture.
10) Master Bath: Paint windows; scrape, prime, paint ceiling; finish & install sink vanity; install lights, switch & outlet covers; install quarter round.
11) Pantry: install window trim, paint door.
12) Laundry: seal floor; install tub faucet; touch-up paint; install quarter round; refinish & install sink; install toilet; install washer & dryer; install light fixtures.
13) Miscellaneous: install miscellaneous fixtures, doors, hardware, trim, etc.

It does seem like a bit much to finish in 52 days, doesn't it?

What I worry about is getting the rear hall (3 walls & ceiling) and the dining room and living room ceilings scraped down so they can be painted. Everything else seems do-able.

There is one small consolation though. However this house fiasco goes for us come May, I will finally get to do something I've been wanting to since 2003.

I will be taking sailing lessons with my wife this June.

Slouching Toward the Weekend

The weather has been great, I think I'm nearly over my cold, and no new horrific surprises have hurled themselves my way in a while, so you'd thing I'd be feeling pretty good about things. Instead I'm feeling tired and more than a little overwhelmed. The most frustrating thing is I've been working on the Devil Queen every day, but, since I've been sick, I haven't been finishing as much as a normally do. It sucks, I suck, or both, or something.

Instead of wallowing (but it is just so easy . . . ), I'll try to focus on the good things. Work on the hall and Gideon's room have been progressing (at the expense of the laundry room). Saturday, I am going to go shopping for a miter saw. Nothing fancy. If I can't find an okay one at a pawn shop for around $50, I probably won't get one just yet. Sunday, I have three or four folks coming over to prime and paint. Amazing things could happen. Rooms could be painted or five gallons of blue latex could get spilled down the return-air vent. I mean, we'll have no fewer than one Dumbass Award Winner and several nominees. Anything could happen.