I Shot A Weed in Denver Just to Watch it Die

Rewind to our laborious Labor Day weekend. We pretty much killed our lawn. Not only is it all weeds, it's all weeds that have had the run of the place for some time. The same pestilence reigns next door and across the street, as if the weeds existed before the street was paved. Witness exhibit A, a modest example of the offending breed:



The root is like a carrot! Anyway, we have the ugliest lawn on the block now, and that's an accomplishment. I hate it, but we really can't address the outside until we have a few more basic comforts in place. It's cooling off, and still no tub. Bren's working on it (more on that later), but it can't be done soon enough. Last night, I took a nice hot bath...I set the washing machine to the hot setting. Enough said.

The living room walls completely resurfaced, the ceiling has been giving me fits. The cove is finally sanded, after we attempted to devise all manner of curved sanding mechanisms, including attaching a halved length of sandpaper-covered 4" PVC pipe to the electric sander, to no avail. Finally, it ended up being good, old-fashioned elbow grease that did the trick. We are going to put moulding just below the curve, and around those cool ceiling tiles I mentioned before. We'll paint the area between the moulding white. And the tiles.



All this sanding creates a lot of dust. Just ask Chevy, who, as it turns out, is actually a boy.



He looks like a skunk. Chevy, by the way, is an estimated 9 weeks old now. He's gained a pound since we found him, which means he's a whopping...two pounds. An active fellow, he's inspired some unexpected construction around the house:



We took some rope we used to secure our belongings in the moving van and wrapped it around the banister in the bonus room, creating the ultimate scratching/climbing post. You can't really see him, but he's having a blast.

Am I one of those...



NOOOOOOOOOO!

Animal House

So. Only days after we had to relinquish Goatson to the animal shelter (a traumatic experience to say the least), I was getting ready for work on Saturday when Bren and I heard high-pitched mewing outside the door to the bonus room, which opens onto the driveway. Turns out this scared little girl was lodged in the undercarriage of my car:



She looks like a Laser Cat right here. I guess I need some photography pointers from Andrea or Renee. She looks a little less evil here, safe inside:



We're calling her Chevy. She fits into my cupped hands, so she can't be more than a few weeks old. She eats, but I'm having a hard time getting her to drink. Bren is allergic to cats, of course, so we aren't sure if we can keep her...but neither of us want to go anywhere near the shelter for a while. In the meantime, she's already figured out how to poop in her litter box, which is awesome. She is a scholar.

Since she is currently sitting on my shoulder, purring like a motorboat and licking my neck and ear, I'll let her impart some wisdom:

Sddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd gddddddd,tgedoo ````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Deep.

"They say it's raining in Chicago, but it's cold and clear in Denver."

Denver is awesome. To any of our friends who live in the "Denver metro" area, and not in Denver proper, you are missing out. Denver's city webpage (and their coinciding 3-1-1 info-line) is rife with helpful and interesting information. Garbage-pickup times, building permit info, pet shelter hours, museum events and art exhibits, and anything else you could think of pertaining to city life.

Almost exactly 24 hours ago I filled out a request to have a pot-hole at the end of our driveway filled in. I honestly didn't expect anything to happen. Then, out of the blue this morning, two swarthy and genial guys show up with a truck full of asphalt and "do work" on our driveway.

Thanks Denver!

We Put the Gag in Lolligag

Another lengthy absence. Sorry. We really have done things, I promise. The thing is, everything happens so slowly that progress is being made on a molecular level, but nothing is done. We have very little to show. The workweek is proving to be completely worthless as far as home improvement goes. We have, however, had time to visit with Tulsa friends Renee and Daniel, go to the dentist, and play poker, as evidenced below:



If you can't tell, Justin is losing. We've also been grilling out a lot:



The feast!

In other news, we finally bought our tub.



We were lucky enough to find one that was 6' long and 36" wide; large enough to accommodate one Bren. He was dismayed, however, upon picking it up, when he saw that the box advertises it as a two person tub. Doh!

Bren also scored a dryer, via the same employee auction system that afforded us our $40 washer, for a whopping $57. We offically have a set for under $100.



We haven't installed the dryer yet, mainly because the previous owner's vent...doesn't vent. It directs the fluff into the water heater closet, instead of out of the house. Thus, we have to punch a hole in the side of our house, which could be rather gratifying. Or disastrous -- we'll let you know.

Work on the walls continues. Special thanks to those of you who donated money and Home Depot gift cards in honor of my birthday, 26 long years ago! The money is going toward, in part, a thermoplastic version of a tin ceiling for the living room. We painstaking taped off the moulding lines in there, and have arrived at the right configuration to deal with the coved ceilings without making the room look smaller. It's going to be SO COOL! Soon, we will be ready to paint. Our choice, called "Scotch Lassie," matches well with our first art print purchase:



It's the second from the left. The print is an Utagawa Hiroshige, circa 1855, called "Navaro Rapids."

Speaking of my birthday -- we received another gift that morning, albeit bittersweet. This girl came running up our drive, practically dying of thirst:



Four days later, no response from our postings in the neighborhood or online. She is definitely a puppy -- so far she has eaten part of the coffee table, part of the trampoline, one bra, two toothbrushes, two rolls of paper towels, 6 rolls of toilet paper, one razor (God knows how she got that), and one light bulb (ditto). We are calling her Goatson because of said eating habits. Although we are falling in love with her, as she crawls in bed with us and licks us to death, unfortunately, she is obviously part Pit Bull. Pit Bulls are banned in Denver -- even mixed dogs who exhibit certain physical traits of the Pit Bull. To that end, we have to take her to the Denver Dumb Friends League in the morning, where I hope she will be carted to another part of the state, and adopted by a farmer or something.



We love you, crazy little Goatson. Be good. We know you'll grow up to be a loyal protector to whomever is lucky enough to find you next.

Sniff.

Mama's Got a Fuse Box, Daddy Never Sleeps at Night

It's been a while since we last posted, and a lot has happened! Namely, the Aldrich Family Reunion in Estes Park, CO. Although Bren and I only got to go up the mountain once, we were lucky enough to spend some serious quality time carousing with the likes of:



Mom O.!



Dad O.! (Check out the new grill he got us!)



Cory!



Wes...and the fancy lad behind him is Porter!



Porter smells chicken.

Unfortunately, both Wes and Porter were stung by hornet/wasp/bee things (otherwise known as the jerks living in a crack in our porch stairs). Thus...



No, we didn't throw a meringue pie at them. It's insecticide. The directions said to use it at dusk, when the jerks would be "at rest," so we went out at 8PM, thinking it was pretty dusky. Apparently we were a bit early. After we sprayed the crack, one by one, the curious pests began arriving at their former outpost. Bren sprayed each one into the gunk...we stopped at TWENTY FIVE, intent on saving the rest of the spray for a REAL dusk attack tonight.

On to happier happenings on our front porch:



Also with Mom O.'s help, I transplanted our geranium and zinnia. I have terrible luck with plants, so I hope she's right when she says geraniums are "impossible to kill!"

Like I said, we were able to visit the extended family in Estes for one day. We spent the night in my grandad's cabin on the Big Thompson River. While we rested peacefully and safely inside...



Miles slept in a parachute and warded off raccoons. He's so hardcore! Kids, if you wanna be tough like Miles, you have to...



Eat your veggies. (Note that our other, itty-bitty grill has been happily demoted to side dishes.)

Cory, Wes, and Porter stayed with us for a few days in our sumptuous guest quarters.



Now our only tangible reminder of their visit is temporarily immortalized in plaster dust...



How could we get anything done on the house with all this excitement, you ask? Have someone else do it! Yesterday, the electrician came to replace our infamous fuse box. Now it looks like this:



And here's the shiny new one:



An expensive couple of hours of work. So, when the power went out for two hours this morning, I was more than a little concerned. Guess it was just a coincidence. Whew!

Serenity Now

Two back-to-back, straight through, 24-26 hour drives to and from Vancouver B.C., with 7 days of high-schoolers in between can really take it out of a guy. As a result, only a few light projects have been accomplished on this unexpectedly long weekend.

We grilled outside for the first time. It's been lousy hot, but the advantage of a west-facing house, is that the backyard is nice and shady by 3-4 o'clock.



We spent about the same amount on the grill as we did on the food.

I officially have experience in the world of electricity, bringing my lifetime stats to 1-2. Thats one light installed, two fuses blown (yes our house has a fuse-box, remember?).



Agreed, it's not exactly the most stylish fixture ever, in fact it is an outdoor light. It sort of looks like maybe it belongs on a boat. Anyway, it was $3, and makes our basement bathroom feel a little less dank.

Finally, I was ably to endure the heat long enough to put up:



Thanks Dr. W. Now we can sit back and enjoy "the cool evening breezes of Anytown, USA."

The entertainment factor of a porch swing is easily overlooked. Watching the neighbors set off illegal fireworks from down the street, and scurry inside when the Denver PD comes creeping, is hours of fun. Now I need to figure out how to get our porch light to work again.

My Stumps

Work on the walls continues.



The wall I began with (on the right) has taken three coats of various plaster-ish products, dried, and is almost completely sanded. There are some tiny air bubble imperfections, but I'm confident that a coat of primer and two coats of paint will take care of those. It's SO much work, but those walls are smooth. The big window wall only has the first coat, and the small window wall has two. Hopefully that will be sufficient after sanding.

The other day, I did a little time on the walls, and went outside to rinse off my taping knives. Ummm...



Our hose was gone. Make that Uncle's hose. I called him to make sure he hadn't come by to get it -- he hadn't. Who steals a garden hose? It's not like anyone nearby actually takes care of their lawns...

Anyway, this theft bumps a privacy fence up on the list of priorities. We hadn't planned on installing that or landscaping the front and/or back yards until next Spring when the house is under control, but what can you do?

There are several things in the way of our prospective fence/garden. Namely, some trees that are growing in and through the existing chain-link fence, and these:



Stump #1 (the background illustrates yet another reason for the aforementioned fence), and...




Stump #2. Frustrated with the tedium of plastering the walls, I was desperate for a project that I could kill (and I mean kill) in a day. A 102 degree day might not have been the best choice, but nonetheless...



I killed Stump #1. Stump #2 was a little trickier. When I got here:



My shovel broke. Ignore the fact that my shadow looks strangely reminiscent of Grimace.



Thumbs down, nine dollar shovel that I bought five hours ago. You have brought shame on your family.

I sanded some more wall while Bren went back to Home Depot to exchange our faulty purchase. He's home safe, by the way. More on that later. Ask him about whales and peace signs.

With shovel #2, I finally dispatched Stump #2.



It even looks like a grave, doesn't it?

On a somewhat poignant note, I couldn't help but reflect while labouring over these stumps that they were once truly great trees, providing shade and shelter to however many generations of families that have lived in this house. It is evident from the wood itself that they were cut down some time ago, and even the bugs that called them home have abandoned them now. It's time to go. And time for Bren and I to plant something new in the rich soil you leave behind. I hope whatever we plant will still be standing in another 80 years.



R. I. P. Stumps #1 and #2. The shovel is definitely living inside for fear of abduction, and now I guess we need a wheelbarrow. It's always something, isn't it? Not sure where we're going to stow that...