Go Back to the Bah!

Or, bar, as they say pretty much everywhere outside of the Boston metro area.

But this post has nothing to do with scuzzy, seedy, or even swanky locals that ply you with watered down booze and terribly loud music all in the hopes that you show up again and again despite how you end up feeling the next morning.

Nope. This is all about our bar. Or, rather, the pantry cabinet, dry bar area of our kitchen remodel.

I got the last of this project completed a couple days ago. FINALLY! And I’m not gonna lie. I freaking love the way this turned out.

Despite my tears (I blame menopause), bruises (both to my ego and back of my hand which is still tingly), and curse words I didn’t even know I knew, in the end I’m fully in love with the overall result!

Much like the pool project (if you haven’t read about how Matt convinced me to replace our “bad water full of dissolved solids” and power wash our pool, you can catch up on that gem here), the photos of the bar project give a much better overall view so I’ll let their captions do the talking.

Design concept, stain/spray paint application, and install of every last piece were mine.

The only things Matt helped with: pre-drilling the holes for the flange anchors, and adjusting a couple of the flanges to level out the shelves. I didn’t know how to do the leveling before, but now I do, so in the future I could do 100% of this project myself.

Thankfully, there won’t be a next time because she’s done, son! (Sorry, been watching a lot of Psych re-runs lately.)

Here’s the bah, er, bar, coming together before your very eyes. For me it took just over two weekends to complete.

Materials on hand other than the wall covering.

Almost immediately after snapping this pic I went to grab the level.
Apparently I have zero sense of depth perception these days.
Hit the bottom of it with my fingers, it rolled over and
smashed down onto the back of my hand.
It hurt worse than most construction injuries I've ever had.
Still tingly nerve damage in some spots but it's mostly healed now.

Does something seem, off to you?

Anchors away!

Yeah, off by an inch. Which I actually measured twice.
I was so tired at this point it doesn't surprise me I made the mistake.
Guess she'll be done next weekend...

Like it never even happened.

Oh yeah, Matt also cut my shelves for me,
because I'm still not comfy with power tools that can cut off my fingers.
Dry fit perfection on the first try!

So I had this genius idea to spray paint the pipe caps
to match the glass hardware we have in most of the kitchen.
They don't exactly line up straight on but I still love it.
Also, the pine has a vinegar stain and dead flat varnish top coat.

No, I didn't want to mess with faux on a laminate surface.
Yes, this is heavy weight vinyl paper printed to look like wood.
The bulk of my invented curse words came during this phase.
Note to self, don't pull the backing off before lining up.
Eventually I got the hang of it and it went much smoother.

Under-side shelf clamps installed to hold everything in place.
I literally had to lie on my back on the countertop
to do this part of the install. Thankfully,
the somewhat fragile tops didn't crack under my weight!

And she's done!
Thanks to my friend JC for the daffodils, they
made for a beautiful accent to the finished project!
I'll eventually place my shot glass collection on
the top shelf but need to unpack them all first.

And now it’s back to writing because I’m just getting too damn old to be up and down a ladder all day long.

Then again, I do still need a kitchen backsplash and that doesn’t even involve a ladder so…

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.

Days Weeks Months, and the Years Go By

It’s difficult to know where to even start. I’ve been absent for days, weeks, (it feels like months) and so much has happened that it almost feels like too much time has transpired to report back on it. But I’m going to do my best because in the last few weeks life has thrown out a rollercoaster ride of emotions and I’ve been lucky enough to be able to go along for the ride.

There have been some good times, some bummer times and some amazing moments that could never be fully captured in words no matter how good a writer I am. Sometimes you really just ‘had to be there’.

And if you were here for any of them I need to say a HUGE thank you!

June marked an entirely new chapter in my life and sharing it with (you know who you are) you was AH-mazing!

Let’s start with the ugly & work our way to the awesome shall we?

Abrupt Ending

By now anyone who’s even a moderate sports fan (or friends with me) knows that the Bruins lost in their quest for the Cup against the Chicago Blackhawks. It was a tough fought series and I think the B’s really held their own despite losing four games to two. And they lost on home ice. Which of course stings a little bit.

But as exciting as it was to watch my hometown team play some of their best hockey all the way up to game 6 (and as nice as it would’ve been to watch them lift the Cup) I have to admit that I’m secretly glad hockey is over for this season.

The temperatures were getting a little warm and with the shortened season I think this is the latest into the summer I’ve ever seen the boys in black and gold play. I mean, the season starts again in about two months. Plus watching upwards of four games a week was getting a little tough to manage. But I love hockey and especially hard-hitting hockey like the playoffs. But being in Phoenix means 115+ temps and now I just want to be in my pool for a couple months.

Speaking of hockey, some of the off-season changes have me reeling a little bit:

• Andy Ference, my second favorite player on the Bruins and my number one favorite environmental activist is being let go in favor of cheaper defensemen because of the lowered cap. This sucks in so many ways I can’t even begin to say how much it sucks. A Bruin and Boston community activist for seven years, Andy’s commitment to his team and teammates will be sorely missed next season.
• Nathan Horton didn’t entertain any offers from the Bruins before electing to go with his Free Agency status. Which basically just sucks because if ever there was a line that had chemistry it was the Lucic-Krejci-Horton line. We’ll see what this Friday brings during the free agency deadline.
• Pretty much every single core player with the exception of only a few will need surgery for something or other this off season. Bergeron played the last game with multiple issues (hole in lung, broken rib) and others like Horton, Seidenberg, Chara, all have injuries that probably had them playing at less than their optimal selves. I commend them for a job well done under the circumstances!

In hockey years I’d be about 172

In human years I just turned the big 4-0. Yup, I’ve actually entered the period of life where it’s all uphill from here. Yeah I know most people say downhill but that always felt wrong to me. I mean downhill is easier, you can toss her in neutral and just coast. Uphill seems like much more of a battle.

But I digress…

I made a promise to one of my very dear friends, Keith, that I’d write all about the party. Regardless of the fact that I’ve sat down to do just that a few days in a row now, I can’t seem to find any words to do that day any justice. I really think you just had to be here.

Perhaps when I’m looking back in a few years and thinking of the top five parties of my entire life I’ll have the distance from it to write it all out, but not right now. For now I’m going to leave you all with a word cloud that pretty much sums up the overall celebration that started with a big secret Matt concocted months ago, culminates with my crazy party on Saturday June 22, and ends the following weekend when my vacation ended and I finally was able to recover from the enormity of it all.

I love you all!

It’s Official…

I’m finally a paid Writer! I started pursuing my freelance career a few months ago with full force and since then I’ve had five articles published on Yahoo! Voices, three of which I’ve made money from and just last week I was offered a writing position as a blogger for a company that reports on socially responsible companies. Not sure when that starts but I can’t wait!

In the meantime I’m going to finish up my classes and books on how-to write various forms of content and just keep applying for writing gigs as well as submitting articles. My goal is to be self-sustaining from my writing in the next year and I can clearly see that path starting to materialize now.

Cha-ching

At the end of June we refinanced our home into a fifteen year mortgage, something we’ve both been looking forward to doing since we first got the place last year. With the increase in values in Phoenix (it’s a great time to own property here, things are climbing again, steadily but not out of control) we were able to cash-out refi and roll our car payment in plus take a little cash to make some improvements to the efficiency and functionality (plus the beautification) of our home.

In the next couple months we’re planning to replace all of our single-pane aluminum windows with Low-E double (or triple) pane, replace all the exterior doors to prevent gaps where ac sneaks out, spray additional insulation into the attic, replace the pressure valve for our house water, open up the wall from living room to kitchen for an open concept plan and remove the fireplace that takes over the living room, rip out the very poorly installed tile/carpet and put hardwood bamboo throughout, and complete a few other minor things that no one would notice but will make a huge overall impact on efficiency/uniformity (vent covers, doorknobs, etc.).

For the first time in our adult lives we made a good choice when it came to a housing purchase. But it wouldn’t matter if values tanked again tomorrow. We’re not going anywhere and now that we can start personalizing our place I’m even more excited to stay.

Overall June was a pretty kick-ass month around here full of old and new friends and family I wouldn’t have expected to see in my house anytime soon. It really seems like the last three weeks have been a constant party and cause to smile, laugh, and have fun.

And I don’t see any signs of that stopping anytime soon.

• • • • • • • • • • •
Published in multiple print and online sources, Author, Blogger and Freelance Writer Jenn Flynn-Shon has been writing for publication since 2001. Follow her antics on twitter @jennshon

Something to Say?

The past week or so has been a whirlwind of drama to the nth degree with getting our house purchase squared away.  It was so much drama in fact that at one point I thought my next blog post title would read “The Foreclosure Market Giveth and Bank of America Taketh Away” but it turns out I would have been all wrong.

If anyone was going to be taking away our dream of homeownership it was going to be American Financial Resources with their lack of attention to detail, non-existent care for their clients, and complete lack of urgency in their jobs.  I have 17 months and 29 days until I can refinance out of their company and I fully intend to do just that.

It all started about 2 weeks ago when we were told by our broker that in Arizona we do an escrow close.  Now, forgive me on some of the technical terms because I’m not the mortgage professional in this household, but Matt isn’t the blogger, so you may learn even more about mortgages behind the scenes than you thought possible.  When closing in escrow you actually sign all your paperwork and give the title company the cash to close in advance.  The loan then funds and all the other hoobie-doos happen behind the scenes.

Yes, hoobie-doos is a technical term.

Then you meet with your realtor, get keys, and do a happy dance in your brand new, broom clean living room.

At least it reads great on paper.  In reality it went something more like this…

As of May 6^th we have all paperwork to our broker.

Our broker tells us she’d like to kiss us both because we’re so proactive.

Matt assures her it’s his many years of experience.

We start collecting boxes and packing material.

We are told we’ll have to sign & give money early.

We question this having never bought a house in an escrow situation.

We are told not to worry, paperwork should be coming in a day or so.

We sigh with relief and check the calendar – it is the 15^th.

By the 17^th we still don’t have final figures.

Matt has emailed everyone in creation at least 4 times a day.

Everyone but our lender has emailed him back indicating their attention to the situation.

Our lender finally sends a message that they missed the part where we close on the 23^rd but have to sign early – they say oops.

We hear a rumor that BoA (the seller’s mortgage holder) won’t close this if it isn’t done at least 3 business days in advance.

By the 18^th we still don’t have final figures and I start to panic.

The lender laughs.

I am not comforted by the fact that Matt starts to panic too.

We are forced to agree to a form that says we’re in breach of contract (even though it’s the lender’s fault, it’s on us).

I flip out screaming that our lender has had ALL our paperwork for 2 full weeks and question if anyone at American Financial Resources knows how to read.

The lender says they’ll have everything by Monday the 21^st.

I lose 3 pounds from not eating all weekend.

I gain 5 pounds from drinking all weekend.

I lose all I gained by helping move my sister into her very first house (HOORAY!!).

Monday comes and goes and still no paperwork.

I question where I can get heavier drugs.

The lender has literally said they don’t give a shit if it happens when we want it to or not.

Our broker has not one but about 50 panic attacks and calls in her boss to call their President.

The lender’s President all but laughs at our broker (again) and well over 200 emails go back & forth.

Matt takes the rest of the day off due to extreme overwhelming lack of concentration.

I begin drinking heavily.

We’re assured we’ll have everything Tuesday.

I pour another glass of wine and consider inviting our realtor and broker over to get hammered together.

Matt begins drinking with me and we zone out to crappy television.

Matt says out loud he will NEVER allow this kind of shit to happen to his clients.

Our broker’s President puts American Financial Resources on their black list.

Tuesday morning crawls at a snail’s pace but we arrive to sign docs at the title company at noon.

We hit the bank and withdraw our funds to close.

We shake hands and profusely thank our title company for their diligence in getting this done.

We continue to physically shake as we head to the car, hopeful everything will fund the next day.

Matt takes the entire day off and we both sit around biting off what’s left of our fingernails.

The 30^th call from our realtor comes in and we again commiserate that we’re all in this together.

Our broker contemplates leaving the industry this one has her so stressed out.

We pour ourselves another glass of wine.

Wednesday morning we wake up and know we have until 4:00 when the records office closes to have that deed recorded so we can get our keys.

Minutes tick like hours.

The title company says the lender received paperwork.

We pace frantically.

Another email details the wire has gone through.

I start chewing on random pen caps.

Another email that they’re standing in line at the records office.

Finally at about 3:30 we get word that the deed is literally done and we can meet our realtor at 4:30 to get our keys.

My excitement at the fact that we actually have purchased our very first home in Arizona is so overshadowed by all the stress and drama we dealt with that I can hardly get excited.  That is until our realtor opens the lock box and hands us our key.

Our key.  To our house.

I then proceed to do a happy dance in the middle of the living room.  Of course I have to avoid all the crap the seller left behind including piles of trash all over, a garage full of random crap, a backyard full of random crap, and 2 bedrooms full of her kid’s random crap.  Our realtor leaves us at our new house with a couple hugs and handshakes and we sigh in relief.

I start looking through all the stuff left behind.  This includes, but is not limited to, a chaise chair, a huge cooler, a shed full of screens and beach chairs, 2 patio chairs (score!), an entertainment center, her son’s baseball trophies and uniforms.  And then I poke through his closet.

There, in a far back corner of a shelf is the kid’s bong.

Oh how I wish I were kidding.  The trophies, her recipe box, and family photos at Disney were odd enough to find left behind but really kid?  I mean as a teenager isn’t that the first thing you pack?  Maybe he’ll swing by to fish it out of the dumpster.  Because that’s right where it will be.

Needless to say we spent a couple hours picking up new lock sets at Home Depot, installed them and a padlock for the backyard gate (for pool safety), swept out the crap from the house and skimmed the leaves out of the pool.

We drove away from our house last night at about 8:30, got Subway, and came back to our apartment ready to start our clean out, painting and pool maintenance the next day after work.  I’m counting the hours until the end of the day today.

And last night we celebrated the downshift in stress with the last of our magnum of wine.

It’s finally ours now. And no one can take it away.

Really, Verizon Wireless?

Rant.

As I sit here in my office, typing away, I watch my phone shut itself down for no reason at all for the fourth time in 12 minutes and I realize that it must have been designed to fail. You know, considering my contract expires in just two short months it only seems reasonable that my phone would die right now; forcing me to buy a new one and renew the contract for another two full years.

Either that or pay the low, low price of $350 to end the contract early and go with another carrier like I actually want to do. Thanks Verizon for being so clever as to keep your customers unhappy but on the hook none the less. Fuckers.

So the battle with this phone started twenty two months ago for Matt, his started doing this power itself down for no good reason thing about three days after we got the phones. Mine was fine though so we thought maybe it was just some odd glitch in his physical phone and called to talk to the folks at Verizon Wireless.

They told him they'd do some kind of funky thing where they reboot software from their master computer behind the curtain in Oz and that the reboot would take care of the problem. They did their thing, his screen went white, they did more stuff, his screen came back up and voila, for about a month his phone was working fantastic.

Verizon Wireless became the saviors of the day and we all rejoiced. Yea.

Things went along as if nothing was ever wrong, with no home phone we rely on our cell phones as our only voice communication. This was in 2009. At that time, most of the world realized the (insanely overly expensive) awesomeness of Smartphones and people ran around like the bulls were chasing them directly into the AT&T store to buy their iPhones, post haste.

Must. Have. Technology!

Hipsters everywhere whipped out their little mini computers to check directions, level an entire log cabin or flick a Bic at concerts. Meanwhile I continued to do the things on the phone that truly mattered to me – texting with my friends and family.

And then it happened. About a year into my contract my phone started doing the same thing as Matt's had been doing. And then Matt's phone began doing the same thing it had been doing all over again. So I go into a Verizon store and they tell me, oh yeah, the LG EnV3 is known to have this problem. This is something they knew about for the past year or so.

You mean the past year I've had this phone? Awesome. So I ask how to go about trading it in, you know, considering the issue that they are fully aware of, and if Matt and I need to be together to do that since we’re on the family plan and all that. They look up our account, give me a polite smile and tell me that neither of us are eligible for an upgrade so it would cost us upwards of $200 to do so. Each phone.

Um, that's not an exchange on a product you know isn't working. How can we fix this? Blank stare.

So why weren't customers who bought this phone informed of the issue right away when it was discovered? Head shake, shoulder shrug, and blank stare.

He told me that I should call customer service and have them do a software reboot which will definitely take care of the issue because that’s what the LG people told them would work. So I went home and did exactly that.

The next day my phone shut itself down again for no apparent reason. The battery was fully charged. I had perfectly respectable reception. Software reboot my ass. Way to brush off your customer there Verizon Wireless employee from the day before.

We started saving for our move and basically just learned to deal with the bullshit pieces of crap that were our phones as we really had no choice. I looked up our contract end date so I could be prepared to dump them as soon as possible.

As soon as we got to Arizona mine began doing this shut down deal more and more often. It would randomly turn off when I was in the middle of a call. Sometimes it happened as I was typing a text message.

Matt got a phone for work through Sprint, which works the bomb, so he pretty much turned off his Verizon Wireless paperweight and stopped using it. We both opted to wait it out to get new phones when our Verizon contract expired in January 2012 because we're not made of the money “required” to purchase a new phone to deal with this known issue.

And now it’s just become recoculous, shutting down like it is this morning, and I’m already on the BestBuy website looking at phones to go out and spend money on. Money I don’t really have. Money that will eat into my savings. Money on a phone that is way more than I need. And guess what that means? Yup, extending the contract for another two years. Thieves.

I'm frustrated and more than irritated at Verizon Wireless for not taking care of the problem when they had the chance years ago, when I spoke both on the phone and face to face with someone who could have simply made the issue go away and had me as a customer probably for life.

But now all I want to do is become a Sprint customer and I basically can’t.

Those Verizon Wireless people know they have me over a barrel because I won't cancel two months out, pay the exorbitant fee to do so, and the only way I can “upgrade” these days is to buy a phone that has more bells and whistles than I actually want (which essentially means a more expensive plan and more expensive phone but of course it’s still cheaper than the cancellation of the contract).

Two months of a working phone is all I am asking for because I stayed with a company to fulfill my end of the bargain on the contract.

Sadly it has become clear that they can treat their customers however they want and do nothing to fix issues because in the end they will make a ton of money off of you regardless of what you do or don’t do. Again, fuckers.

Never before this moment have I wished so much to be famous(er). Famous people get their shit fixed when they ask for it to be fixed because they threaten to use Social Media against companies and companies don’t like that because masses of customers walk away, not just two like us.

People like me with only about 300 some odd readers of this blog and a few hundred Facebook and twitter followers are small time. We get the shaft because they know my reach isn’t wide enough to cause a major upheaval or uproar.

Does no one care about their paying customers anymore? Loyalty clearly gets you nowhere.

It’s a Family Affair

Every morning I wake up with a different song playing in my head. Sometimes I can explain it, for instance, if I heard the song right before I went to bed the night before, while other times I have no explanation as to how it got there. Today’s is a prime example of the latter. Now I like this song but ask me to sing more than the four words in the title above and you’ll catch me scratching my head.

So you can probably see the dilemma here. The same four words playing on a loop over and over again as I sit awake, alone, until Matt gets up, is moderately maddening. But instead of heading off to the loony bin, I’m going to go with it and use the song title as a writing prompt. Hey, I’m all about turning the negative into a positive like that.

Speaking of prompt…as soon as I decided to write about it, I promptly lost all steam and motivation to do so. This has been a common problem lately. I think there are a few reasons for it.

First off, I don’t want to sit here and ramble on aimlessly about everything I’ve done lately because I won’t even be able to see the bored look in your eye as you drift off and start imagining what you’re having for dinner instead of absorbing the words on the screen. My life lately has been one long thread. Literally. Pretty much all I’ve done lately is sew.

Which brings me to the second reason. Sewing, unless you’re a seamstress, is a pretty boring topic. Wait, that was the same as the first reason right? Yeah, I guess you can probably understand the inclination to keep it to myself.

So (or sew?? Haha! Oh I kill me…) this is why I had all these grand plans to turn this post into some wonderful tale about my past, something awesome and fun from the 70’s and I would have woven it around my family like the song line had been written specifically for us.

For example, I could do a big story about how I was picked on in grammar school for wearing hand me down clothes that came from my much older cousins. Or I could talk about the time when my aunt tried to talk me out of drinking because my whole family was full of alcoholics but, not only was I not entirely surprised by the information, I think I surprised her by sharing that I just wanted to go to the party; I didn’t even have one drink that night. Perhaps a nice long post about the way two people is quite enough to make a family and that I don’t need to have kids to feel like I’ve achieved that feeling.

But every single one of those topics and more would just fall flat right now because that’s how I feel. As flat as the snowman ornaments I stitched up recently. Flat, listless, languid, lifeless, wordless and inspirationless. (Is that even a word? Probably not but it pretty much perfectly describes my overall brainwave right now so I’m keeping it. Suck on that Oxford Dictionary).

I think I know the reason. I’m saving it up in the imaginary bunker in my brain. The bunker is made of four foot thick concrete walls with a solid steel hatch that only I can access because it takes my fingerprint and retina scan to get in. Yeah, the thing is secure. And for good reason. It is storing the makings of my book inside its walls.

Imagination, inspiration and ability to share a fully fluffed up story, full of good old fashioned chewy bits like warm date nut cookies, will just have to wait until November. (Ooh, cookies…)

So what the hell do I do in the meantime? I guess I could regale all of you with tales of my grocery shopping adventures but somehow I think that might have me losing a few readers. Not that I couldn’t make it funny -- hell I kept everyone reading about me having a cold by sprinkling in crap about puffy heart key chains, local New Jersey townies and Pauly Shore movies -- but something tells me it would just be far too shameless, even for me, to try to add humor to a Peapod delivery. I mean, they weren’t even late and actually delivered everything I ordered so how could I ever twist that one ya know?

Plus I’d never want to insult us by writing an entire 875 word post full of absolutely no content whatsoever. That would just be…well, it would surely be random lunacy, if you will, and I wouldn’t dream of doing that to any of us! Honestly, what do you take me for? Geesh…

While I dye my hair and get ready to go see my mom’s work at the Arlington Open Studios, and then attend my uncle’s big sixtieth birthday party later today, I will leave you with this quote my drum instructor told me yesterday. Apparently it is from a cowboy movie he watched recently.

“Never hasn’t happened yet.”

Yup, you’re right. That quote has absolutely nothing to do with anything I’ve written here.  Just like everything else.

Summed Up By The Beach Boys

Wouldn’t it be nice
If I had posted?
Then you wouldn’t have to
Wait so long…

Ah yes, the soothing and inspiring sounds of The Beach Boys will help me get through a rainy and gray day here in the northeast. I’m not complaining though, it has been sun shiny and mostly spring like beautiful for the past few weeks. Hence, why no one has read a word from me over here.

I love spring because people start coming out of the woodwork, me included, and it makes me so happy to see the temperatures start going back up. But it always means loads of stuff sneaks into the calendar and time flies by in the blink of an eye!

Since we last caught up I have:

Gone to a Bruins game & watched them lose (although they barely scraped by into the playoffs by the skin of their teeth and then promptly lost game 1 last night, boo.). Been given an opportunity to sit right behind home plate at a Sox game (and my fingers are crossed that Tek will catch that game!). Was offered a chance to fly somewhere I really want to go for free (feeling like a rock star!). Donated a wall finish to the Driscoll School auction and started discussing options with the winning bidder. Finished the manuscript for Ripple the Twine and handed it off to my first “feedback editor” for advice (which was mostly positive, surprisingly). Celebrated with Bridgete & some seriously cool peeps for her birthday in grand fashion (read: latest night I’ve been up since I was 27 lol). Began a hardcore workout routine (summer is right around the corner, yikes!). Went fishing for the first time in like 15 years with some old and close friends (and as always with them, hilarity ensued). Made plans to see or visit some of Matt’s closest friends who live far away. Became a contributing Editor to the EcoEtsy blog as a co- News and Views contributor. Celebrated Matt’s birthday in the North End with my Mom. And who knows how much more; busy, busy!

We got our tax refunds from both state and federal and, as promised to ourselves, they will be used not for bills (as we have done many years) or savings (as we have also done many years) but to purchase a new laptop for Matt and a used drum kit for me. My neighbors won’t have to worry though, my freaking fabulous drum instructor has taught me the power of the towel so I will be able to deaden everything. He also gave me the names of a couple resellers in the area so within the week I’ll be able to fling the sticks onto something more than the electronic kit or drum pad. I can not wait!

Speaking of drum lessons…I am actually getting better which is inspiring to me! I try to practice, or at least stay loose with Rock Band, every day and it has really made all the difference. Independent limb is starting to show in a more prominent way and I’ve been able to get comfortable enough to do fills between measures. Awesome! My instructor continues to be the most patient and wonderful teacher ever. No real dreams to ever play live or anything over here, it’s all just for a fun hobby I can do to tune out the world, but if I had those aspirations he would certainly be the guy I would want to have in my corner!

So that’s the skinny from my little cyber neck of the world. I hope to get back to regular posting again but who knows. And I’m not beating myself up over it, I still love reading everyone’s updates as often as I can get there even if I don’t comment I’ve been keeping up with everyone’s laughs & smiles and everything in between!

Have a great weekend and (most likely) a great month everyone!

Without A Doubt

My family has definitely been afflicted with various levels of hoarding and my grandparent’s house is the pinnacle of where it began. In my last post I mentioned that my aunt, mom and I took an entire day to clean out one of the rooms in the family house. While completing this task we made two piles -- one for recycling, the other for Goodwill. Since the start (long before last week), it has been a slow and steady process.

We found countless piles of newspapers, magazines, maps from their trips across the country (a future post will give details on the journals we found from their trips that I plan to transcribe and then Matt and I intend to visit every place they traveled), chotchkies, pictures, broken things, you name it and you were likely to find it in my grandparent’s house. In addition to the vast number of items that are boxed up and ready for charity, a few things have made their way out of the house and into our own homes. I have taken a few functional furniture pieces -- the table I mentioned last time plus 2 cabinets for my painting stuff, books, knick knacks, clothing and a few very, very random items.

While in my great Aunt’s bedroom we discovered that not only was she a very religious woman (which most of us already knew) but she also had a thing for astrology, fortune telling, horoscopes and the like. When I came across this little gem it totally blew me away. I turned it upside down, over and sideways trying to figure it out and next thing I knew I was asking ‘what is this, some kind of secret fortune telling device or something?’ only to discover the glass on the bottom fill up with a triangular shaped piece of something with just one word written on it ‘Yes’. It was the original Magic 8 Ball! Cool!

The fortune teller was discovered upon one of the first visits when I also acquired some of my grandmother and grandfather’s hats. My grampa was a fedora man and there were two gorgeous ones -- a grey and dark brown. I only pull them out occasionally but every time I wear any of their hats I feel like a million bucks!

Which is exactly the reason we’ve been sorting through everything before just getting rid of it; there could be cash stashed just about anywhere. Both grandparents suffered from symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease and especially with my gram, as she got older and less mentally functional she hid things. With the number of things in the house that means things could be anywhere, especially in books. It’s a nightmare.

While sorting through some of the books in the reading nook on the third floor I came across this one which my mom convinced me I should at least read before donating seeing as though I’m the Green blogger in the family. This upcoming week I have some time and fully intend to do just that. Of course I have my pick of many.

There were some books as old as the early 1800’s found in the house including some that I should have read years ago but never made the time for, even though some of which I was technically supposed to read for school. A Tale of Two Cities, The House of Seven Gables, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The Three Musketeers, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, you get the picture. Well they all came home plus the complete ten volume set of the World’s 1000 Best Poems, as published in 1929.

In the den I pulled this out of a basket or a bag or randomly off the floor and just started laughing, I mean when she bought it the name was probably very futuristic sounding. Like back in the 1980’s. In fact this tube of goo might have been one of the only things we found in that house that represented that particular decade. Well that and the jelly belt that was sticky from melting. Oh yeah.


Earlier decades were thoroughly represented as we discovered by the mounds of 1960’s and 1970’s poly print fabrics. This one was in a paper bag with the thread, pattern and zipper, just waiting to be created. Not to mention the receipt for how much all of it cost; just over $10. My mom and I are going to work on this together; Mom rocks, so does the dress on the far right.

This year for Christmas Matt got me a laptop tray. Mine has a lifting, tilting top, a lip to stop the computer from sliding forward and legs that fold underneath for easy storage. Looks familiar… Of course this one is a little beat up and wood not plastic. No one needs it and I immediately thought of my Mother in law. I know she reads so this could be a perfect little giftie for her. I’m going to clean it up, paint and faux it then send it on down just because. But shhh, it’s a surprise so don’t tell!

Overall it may seem like a lot of stuff has come into my home and I’m just perpetuating the cycle of collecting and perhaps that is partially true but for the most part I am only taking what I know will be created, gifted, read, worn or used as a functional item…

In fact I asked the Syco Slate if I should throw away the Stain Master 2000 after taking the picture for this post and it responded not surprisingly:

Williams Street

When I was almost twenty years old my life had come to an interesting impasse and I was forced to make a few very difficult decisions in a relatively quick time frame. As I look back on those days now I do nothing more than chuckle, grin slyly and thank whatever greater force brought all of those experiences into my life because I would in no way be where I am now without having had them.

Just a couple days before my birthday in June of that year, my mom kicked me out of the house. In the six or so months prior to that day, many things in my life had changed and that moment was the proverbial straw everyone talks about; the world seemed to cave in and then explode back outward as if an entirely new universe was born. And it was. Life seemed to check and balance itself in a most peculiar way; intertwining moments one might call fate.

I was going to college full time back then and working part time at a record store while I lived at home. A few of my friends and I were commuting everyday to a community college in the area, working towards our Associates degrees (which we all planned to apply towards a Bachelors at the four year university of our choice upon completion). School and I were never ideal bedfellows so I felt uncomfortable most of the time I was there despite the 3.8 GPA I was carrying. I had no idea what I wanted to do however so college appeared to be the only way to go. Hell, everyone else was doing it. Everyone I knew went to school the fall following graduation but I waited until the following January to start since I was so unsure about going at all; I only made it through three semesters, and only two with that killer grade point average, as the following year everything changed.

My grandfather passed away late winter the following year and it affected me hard because he was the first of my grandparents to have died. He had suffered the effects of Alzheimer’s and since it was my first experience with the disease I had no idea what it was all about; it saddened me that he no longer had any idea who I was and I felt uncomfortable visiting him at the nursing home because of it. Around the same time frame a very close friend of mine joined the Army and although Desert Storm was over, I was extremely nervous for him (sadly the Army effected him so much that he was never the same jovial guy he had been before joining). In addition to both of these things I was seeing someone who even I knew I should not have been with.

After my grandfather passed away, my school work started to suffer; I withdrew from a couple classes and those I decided to stay in I dedicated little or no time to. I wanted to get out and live, to remember that I was a young person, to have fun. I met some fantastically spirited people and began what would be many years of drifter partying. Some of these people came attached to my then boyfriend, some to the collegiate experience and some I have no recollection how they came to be but boy was I glad they showed up.

Once my grades plummeted that was pretty much the end of living at home, my mom gave me two days to leave. Happy birthday to me. My aunt let me crash for a week while I frantically tried to find somewhere I could afford to live on my tiny paycheck.

I have absolutely no idea how we had met, if we knew someone in common, or why either of us were even at the school the day we chatted since it was summer break but for some reason right around this time period, Roomie-to-be came into my life. I distinctly remember sitting on the radiator in the hallway between the cafeteria building and the courtyard as we discussed the fact that he was looking for a roommate and the rent was $200. Even on my teeny salary I knew that was a doable figure and within a week I was moving the small number of items I had into the second bedroom of Williams Street.

Roomie was an energetic guy and always full of humor and life. We clicked instantly because we were both just crazy enough to be normal; on some freakish cosmic level I think we knew we had to be friends. He was a great friend who put up with my (to put it kindly) less than stellar boyfriend, crazy friends, polar opposite musical taste, late rent payments and complete distaste for washing dishes but he never, and I mean never, judged me for it. Well at least not to my face.

From the outside, the house was just like any other house in Arlington -- single family, colonial style box with brown siding and concrete stairs -- but inside that house memories were made that never in my life will I ever forget. Then again I may have already forgotten most of them, since it was my first apartment with an older roommate and I was just about to enter my twenties -- that place was party central.

If someone passed by the house on a Friday night and there was not a party going on it may have made them question who was sick or out of town. In fact that question could have occurred on any random night of the week that the cops didn’t knock to tell us to turn the music down. There was always someone there, something going on. The best times though were the ones when after a crazy night of partying everyone had passed out wherever they fell but Roomie and I (and frequently my sister and a few other very close friends) would have made it through the whole night so we chatted quietly with a cup of coffee as the sun came up and we watched it rise through the big bay window with the blue curtains. The one that always had that “keep winter out” plastic attached to it. Of course just like anything, it was never meant to last forever.

Since that time I have lived with a lot of people, some romantically, some as roommates, as well as in a few places on my own and now with Matt, but there was something so completely magical about my first place out of my mom’s house that none of the other situations since have been able to come close to matching. After about a year with Roomie I ended up getting work as a live in nanny and moved out of Arlington and into a room in the family’s house. In an almost symbolic act, the Williams Street house was sold and the new owners tore it down to build a monstrous McMansion duplex. I am glad that the times there will never be able to be replaced and that the house as it was back then will live on in my memory through photographs never fit to print.