Sigh. There never seems to be enough time to update the ole’ blog.
Here’s a too-brief-to-do-it-justice recap of the last month happenings:
My lovely parents were here in lovely Nor Cal (see Dad – I used it!) for a little over a week. The vacation, urr, I mean “holiday,” started out smashingly: they picked up their rental car, drove to our house, and then whisked us away to Bodega Bay, where we stayed for 3 days/2 nights at an adorable seaside cabin. Beautiful weather, exciting whale watching (in October!!!), delicious seafood, much needed sleep, Texas Hold ‘Em, etc. Wonderful all the way around.
We returned home, did some other fun things like bowling with Dad & Mom (BTW they both got turkeys – AKA 3 strikes in a row – and kicked the pants off us younglings), and then had the roofers come midweek to reroof our house. This is where “vacation” came to an abrupt halt, and “ABORT! ABORT!” was all we could muster to mutter out of our mouths. Long story short: the roofers ripped off our roof and discovered some major problems, like that the our evil nemesis, the original builders of our house, decided to have 36" between rafters instead of the normal 24". They also did some funky things with the original 1x4's, yadda, yadda, yadda (no, I’m not “yadda yadda yadding over the best part… just wait). Because of all this, the roof would not pass inspection, so we tore off more stuff, added rafters, repaired a lot of junk, etc. My dad and Cody agreed to help the roof crew since the roofer was open to extra help (at $60/hour for labor, it adds up quickly, so it's nice that the guys could help).
So, Dad and Cody woke up on the day that all this roof repair stuff was supposed to go down and they were as sick as dogs. Flu sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.
Somehow, the guys managed to work on the roof despite this sickness – Cody fell through the rafters; my dad almost vomited off the roof (but he made it down the ladder just in time). Poor guys. The next day, they were feeling better, but still very ill, and continued to work on the roof. Fast forward: Continued roof drama, plus continued sickness. We finally got away again from The Money Pit on Saturday the 18th…. we spent all day at lovely Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, and even rode a double surrey (a 4-person bike that looks like an old model T Ford). On the way home, I got sick. On Monday, Mom got sick. Then Dad and Mom flew home.
Great vacation for Dad and Mom, huh! It was sure nice to have them here, though!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
IT PASSED!!!!
Just wanted to share that our master bedroom addition passed the final inspection this morning at 11:36 am.
This is uberfantastic news and an answer to prayer!
Now. . . carry on and have a great day. :)
Riddled with Panic
Jovi and Buddy gave us a house key when they went on their honeymoon since we house-sat for them. We knew their home security code and their secret password.
Or perhaps I should say we thought we knew their home security code and their secret password.
On Tuesday after work, Jovi and Buddy kindly gave us permission to go to their house to pick up some potent termite killer since Buddy has insider pesticide connections. Kinda like the termite mafia, but I digress.
So, we swung by their house, and ChickenWing entered the house while I gathered stuff from the car.
Next thing I knew, I heard a blaring alarm coming from inside the house, and ChickenWing strolls out the front door calmly saying, “I set off the alarm.” Very matter-of-fact. Extremely composed.
Trying not to panic, knowing that the police would soon follow, and knowing that Jovi works with the police and would catch grief for our mistake for years, I called Jovi on her cell phone to tell her what was happening and to ensure I knew the password to tell the customer service person when the alarm company called.
She told me the password, I hung up, and went into the blaring house to tell ChickenWing what word to tell the alarm people.
He looked at me, and said, “Oh. Well, they already called and I told them “Death Tortoise” (the name of our blow-up boat), and they immediately hung up,” in a very relaxed, matter of fact tone.
“AHHHHHH!”
I called Jovi back, completely riddled with panic, and told her the bad news. She told me to pretend I was her and call the number posted on the alarm sign in their front yard. “Perfect!” I thought, “I’ll get arrested for breaking and entering, AND impersonation.”
So, I did it. I called. I lied. And thankfully the police were called off.
Later I found out that poor Buddy (Jovi’s husband) had gotten a call from the alarm company and said that a guy name “Tony” had broken into their home and that the police were on their way. FYI: “Tony,” “Cory,” “Toby,” etc. are all very close to ChickenWing’s real first name, which he gave to the alarm company when they called (?!?). Buddy didn’t think of this association, poor guy. It’s a husband's worst nightmare – his wife is about to enter their home, alone, with guy named Tony waiting for her – and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t get a hold of his wife because I was on the phone with her.
I feel sooooo horrible. And all this happened because of those nasty little boogers we call subterranean termites. And because we forgot the secret code. :)
Or perhaps I should say we thought we knew their home security code and their secret password.
On Tuesday after work, Jovi and Buddy kindly gave us permission to go to their house to pick up some potent termite killer since Buddy has insider pesticide connections. Kinda like the termite mafia, but I digress.
So, we swung by their house, and ChickenWing entered the house while I gathered stuff from the car.
Next thing I knew, I heard a blaring alarm coming from inside the house, and ChickenWing strolls out the front door calmly saying, “I set off the alarm.” Very matter-of-fact. Extremely composed.
Trying not to panic, knowing that the police would soon follow, and knowing that Jovi works with the police and would catch grief for our mistake for years, I called Jovi on her cell phone to tell her what was happening and to ensure I knew the password to tell the customer service person when the alarm company called.
She told me the password, I hung up, and went into the blaring house to tell ChickenWing what word to tell the alarm people.
He looked at me, and said, “Oh. Well, they already called and I told them “Death Tortoise” (the name of our blow-up boat), and they immediately hung up,” in a very relaxed, matter of fact tone.
“AHHHHHH!”
I called Jovi back, completely riddled with panic, and told her the bad news. She told me to pretend I was her and call the number posted on the alarm sign in their front yard. “Perfect!” I thought, “I’ll get arrested for breaking and entering, AND impersonation.”
So, I did it. I called. I lied. And thankfully the police were called off.
Later I found out that poor Buddy (Jovi’s husband) had gotten a call from the alarm company and said that a guy name “Tony” had broken into their home and that the police were on their way. FYI: “Tony,” “Cory,” “Toby,” etc. are all very close to ChickenWing’s real first name, which he gave to the alarm company when they called (?!?). Buddy didn’t think of this association, poor guy. It’s a husband's worst nightmare – his wife is about to enter their home, alone, with guy named Tony waiting for her – and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t get a hold of his wife because I was on the phone with her.
I feel sooooo horrible. And all this happened because of those nasty little boogers we call subterranean termites. And because we forgot the secret code. :)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Final Inspection
Three years have passed since we purchased our first house and began restoring it from a dilapidated 1930’s fixer, to a cozy, safer home. No electrical fires here from rusty knob & tube wiring -- thank you very much! I plan on posting before and after pictures of the transformation at some point in my life.
This afternoon's final inspection for our master bedroom addition was cancelled after ChickenWing waited all day at home for them to show up. Alas, this could have been a blessing in disguise... perhaps Mister Inspector Gadget was in a really cruddy mood and we were just saved from an inspector's wrath. :)
This afternoon's final inspection for our master bedroom addition was cancelled after ChickenWing waited all day at home for them to show up. Alas, this could have been a blessing in disguise... perhaps Mister Inspector Gadget was in a really cruddy mood and we were just saved from an inspector's wrath. :)
Well, whenever we can finally get this place inspected, please pray that she passes! It's been a ton of work for us, our family, and our friends. Once she passes, we can paint, put in the flooring, and move in – all before my dad and mom arrive on October 11th. YAHOO!!!
Monday, September 29, 2008
I Declare Bankruptcy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuGIgf-ICHM
In an episode of The Office, genius supervisor Michael Scott is having money problems. I love The Office, by the way...probably because it empathizes with so many of us stuck in gray cubies working with some really funny characters. :)
He is told about the option of declaring bankruptcy.
Because Michael Scott is very literal (and "special"), he then says the words, "I DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!" (actually, he declares it) and expects all of his financial woes to disappear.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could just say the words, and everything would be healed, forgiven, forgotten, done, fixed... or even, just . . . . better?
I'm thinking about things like an unknown future, challenging relationships, a leaky roof, an entire country's financial system, etc.
I am declaring that we can't do this life thing on our own. Things get dark. And hard. And depressing.
In an episode of The Office, genius supervisor Michael Scott is having money problems. I love The Office, by the way...probably because it empathizes with so many of us stuck in gray cubies working with some really funny characters. :)
He is told about the option of declaring bankruptcy.
Because Michael Scott is very literal (and "special"), he then says the words, "I DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!" (actually, he declares it) and expects all of his financial woes to disappear.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could just say the words, and everything would be healed, forgiven, forgotten, done, fixed... or even, just . . . . better?
I'm thinking about things like an unknown future, challenging relationships, a leaky roof, an entire country's financial system, etc.
I am declaring that we can't do this life thing on our own. Things get dark. And hard. And depressing.
1 John 1:5 (NIV) "This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all."
Now that, my friends, is a declaration we can yell and something will happen.
In Him there is no darkness at all!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Autumn… Sweet Autumn
It’s official: my favorite season is now autumn. It used to be a close tie between spring and autumn, but after experiencing long, hot, dry summers in California, I get giddy just thinking about cool breezes and (gasp!) clouds with rain.
As a side note, I insist on saying “autumn” instead of “fall” for two no-good-very-lame-reasons:
1) I wish I was English, and I do THE WORST fake English accent, and therefore my only hope in sounding more dignified is to use old English for certain words, like “the lou,” “holiday,” and “rubbish.” Don't you agree those words sound better than bathroom, vacation, and trash? :)
2) Autumn brings back kazillions of wonderfully nostalgic times, such as romping through crunchy leaves (which I will never stop doing), and indulging in warm, hearty soups and hot apple cider. Saying “fall” just doesn’t do these memories justice.
Anywhoo, autumn has a way of stirring thankfulness deep in my soul. If I were a poet, I would write a sonnet; if I were a musician, I would compose a beautiful song. For now, I’ll borrow someone else’s short poem and just absorb God’s goodness.
Pumpkins in the cornfields
As a side note, I insist on saying “autumn” instead of “fall” for two no-good-very-lame-reasons:
1) I wish I was English, and I do THE WORST fake English accent, and therefore my only hope in sounding more dignified is to use old English for certain words, like “the lou,” “holiday,” and “rubbish.” Don't you agree those words sound better than bathroom, vacation, and trash? :)
2) Autumn brings back kazillions of wonderfully nostalgic times, such as romping through crunchy leaves (which I will never stop doing), and indulging in warm, hearty soups and hot apple cider. Saying “fall” just doesn’t do these memories justice.
Anywhoo, autumn has a way of stirring thankfulness deep in my soul. If I were a poet, I would write a sonnet; if I were a musician, I would compose a beautiful song. For now, I’ll borrow someone else’s short poem and just absorb God’s goodness.
Pumpkins in the cornfields
Gold among the brown
Leaves of rust and scarlet
Trembling slowly down
Birds that travel southward
Lovely time to play
Nothing is as pleasant
As an autumn day!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Fix me a Coke, Sug!
We were just talking about the Soda vs. Pop vs. Coke issue with our friends in Lebanon, so I believe it's serendipitous (is that a word?) to stumble upon this map, which clears up hundreds of years of slanderous debate. Oh wait, sorry.... that's just the presidential race. :)
"When on a hot summer’s day you buy a carbonated beverage to quench your thirst, how do you order it? Do you ask for a soda, a pop or something else?"
See the map and read the article:
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