Our New "Baby" (tree)

Somewhere on this blog - I can't find the 'tag' that leads to it - is a sad little ditty about the city cutting down the damaged tree in front of our home. That, IIRC, was in 2010. A year or two later the city ground down the stump and as they made no effort to replace the tree, I assumed we were never going to get another. 

Then, magically deliciously, we were greeted with this Friday morning!

 

Quoting Lisa's Facebook: 

I have a new baaaby!!!  The city dropped a baby tree in front of our house to replace the beautiful, mature tree they took almost 2 years ago! I'm going to tell the kids to remember how old they were when it was planted, it will be fun to see it grow with them. His name (given by the state) is "Morton" 

The kids are happy, Lisa is happy - and so, surprisingly, am I. This means that my 3 year run of 'barely any leaves to rake' is going to draw to a close, but I can deal with it. The tree's a beauty :)

Follow the ( old, buried) brick road

One if the few childhood memories of the house I live in ( it belonged to my Great Uncle, whom we saw rarely) was a patch of brick road in the neighborhood. It was rare even thirty years ago, and the novelty stuck with me.
Long since paved over, a portion was uncovered during recent street work, and it was worth a quick picture.

Funhouse Stairs No More

You saw the before pictures of the back porch. Howsabout some 'after'? Our contractor came over on the 18th and began the work on one of the hottest days of the year to date. That sucked - for him. Me? All I had to do was sit back, enjoy the A/C and write out a check.

(note my bike in the background. Sniff.)

Here's the old porch post-demolition. I should have painted the side of the shed before the new porch went up to block it, dang nabbit.



Here's the new porch. Nothing fancy, but we didn't want it to be. If we're going to spend money on a porch, it'll be on the front version, not this one. If the shed didn't hug the lot line to the north we might have expanded it in that direction, but practicality dictated it fit the space allotted.











The porch was functional and basic, as requested, but I was very happy with his work on the bilco/cellar door.





He leveled off the sides with concrete, put on seals, caulking, and whatnot, and made a solid, pretty darn snug entrance.








There's still work to be done. In part because of the bike theft I've decided to bite the bullet and replace the rear entry door with something newer and more substantial, although still bright and fitting in with the rest of the home.

 Not that it *doesn't* need replacing anyway, as it is old as sin and so worn that I actually saw light coming through the wood the other day. Still, the porch replacement took up a good chunk of my - well I was about to say spending money, but frankly, it took a lot of my anything money. I would have preferred to wait a month or two, but away we go.

Remember, this may be the Year of the Comeback, but I've only been 'fully' employed now for 5 months.  I'm still playing catch-up.


So there ya have it. Funhouse stairs no more. 

Funhouse Stairs No More

Today we had our back porch redone.

Oh, it needed it. Five years ago we were almost denied homeowners insurance when we bought the house because the porch was in such disrepair; a last minute band-aid repair was needed before the insurer would complete the process and clear the way for the purchase. 

By the time we were done renovating the interior, there was no money left to do the porch. Which was fine, as the repair held up. Besides, it was only a matter of time before we replaced it. And . . . then I lost Job Prior, and for a few years it continued to rot away as it was the least of our worries. 

Heck, we almost canceled LuLu's 8th birthday party because one of the stairs collapsed an hour before it began. This past winter I had to brace the stairs with scrap wood to keep them upright until spring, and . . .  then in spring our intended contractor did a vanishing act and somehow, someway, it wound up being the middle of June. 

But as of this morning the "funhouse stairs" are no more. I don't have the new porch pics to show you quite yet, as the work continues, but I'll whet your appetite with the horrific 'before' pictures. 

The 'landing' was warping and rotting.



the railings were held in with jerry-rigged solutions of spare screws and nails



The steps, as I alluded to before, were akin to walking a teeter-totter










In just as bad a shape was the bilco door (the exterior access to the basement). It had literally rotted clean through and been patched up with scrap during the quote process



I tried opening the door for a better look but the entire handle and board came off in my hand



Once it was removed today by the contractor the damage was even more apparent









Lovely ain't it?

Well, it's now in porch heaven, and by this time tomorrow I should have some pictures of the finished new porch for you.

The Year of the Comeback continues . . . 

Name this Plant

For the last three years these plants have thrived in my backyard, despite my best efforts to get rid of them. I don't have a clue about what they are, not being a gardener by trade or disposition. Lisa thought they were rhubarb but said they don't taste like it, which leaves us right back where we started. So if there's anyone out there that can ID this plant, let me know.

Rambles

Monday and Tuesday we had contractors in the house. On Monday Lisa minded the store, but Tuesday was my day off, and so I was stuck at home with the kids keeping an eye on the work (aka reading a book cover to cover). The sucky part for the wee ones was that, for safety reasons, they were prevented from going in the back yard or upstairs, and I wasn't leaving the house unattended so they were confined to the first floor all day. But they actually took it in stride, and somewhere along the line Ginger fell asleep on the couch. Even in dreamland, she refused to release her hold on her yellow balloon.



She talks like a champ by the way, and the way she says "OK" is the cutest thing ever.

Later that day LuLu wanted to impress (disgust?) the family by showing us how she could scratch her ear with her toes.



Smiley tried to repeat the trick but failed. Meanwhile YaYa, who is seemingly always in an over dramatic, sour mood lately, was actually happy and smiled for the camera.



I should mention that last week Thursday we grilled out for the first time EVER at our house. Keep in mind we moved in in the early months of 2007, so it was a full FOUR years since we pulled out the grill. I'm not sure why that is; we grilled out constantly at our old flat. I think we were too busy in '07 with the remodel and move to fire it up, and by 2008 it was buried in the shed. Pathetic.

Anyhow, I won't lie and say it went smoothly. It was rather chaotic, with kids running around trying to toss paper into the fire and Lisa claiming that I tried to set her hair ablaze.

That last bit is, of course, categorically mostly untrue.

Oh, speaking of firsts the day before the contractors arrived I finally got around to installing the handle on Smiley's sunlight, which meant he was able to open it and get some air at night!

* * *

Weird how the kids are a mix of their parents. Take the following:

YaYa: my complexion, Lisa's nose and hair. My passion for reading, her Mom's flair for the performing arts. My dramatics, her Mom's temper. A bit of a hoarder. Naturally outgoing but held back by a desire not to look the fool; as most adults know, that's just about a guarantee you'll wind up playing the part. A good sense of humor but sometimes unable to translate that into a joke or prank that 'works'.

LuLu: My gorgeous hair, Lisa's pale, quick to burn complexion. (Lack of) height that seems a throwback to an earlier generation. Sadly, my asthma, but no great love of books, although she's become a heck of a reader. "Not my thing," she told me last week. Very kind, if quick tempered.

Smiley: size from both of us; my complexion, Lisa's hair. Super sweet. Very concerned with eating healthy ("it heal-ty?" he'll ask about *everything*, even though he has a weakness for hot fries). Super diligent about following rules and maintaing social order; at present, on pace to be a cop. Loves being read to and helping cook.

LuLu: my eyes but with Lisa's great blue color; Lisa's hair and nose with a complexion that's a cross between us both. Easily the closest to Lisa in appearance. A known hoarder who often falls asleep with a dozen stuffed animals and as many books; a great love of stories and books like her Dad. VERY very independent and a quick learner; possibly the greatest natural intelligence of the lot.

All of them have my dimpled chin.

* * *

Last week I finished a drainage ditch I was working on and the 70ish neighbor across the alley stopped and asked me if that was to correct for my (downed) gutter, which he bluntly said "looked like shit." I told him truthfully that I'd had trouble getting someone reliable out to do a job with so little income potential. (I don't have a ladder tall enough, nor the interest in learning the job while 20 feet in the air).

He volunteered to do it, having worked construction all his life, and for the rest of the afternoon we rehung the fallen gutter and braced two more. He wouldn't take payment but I did buy him a pack of cigarettes, and he seemed genuinely pleased by how ecstatic I was with the results of his efforts.

Anywho, as we made small talk I asked him how long he'd lived in his house. The answer? Since 1941, when he was two years old. Nineteen forty-one, while the USS Arizona was still afloat and well in Pearl Harbor and Hitler owned half of Europe. Wow.

He went on to say that the neighbor beside him was moving in part because the garage on that house was built to accommodate a Model T and was unable to house anything larger than a compact. Fascinating stuff. Can you imagine how much change he's seen in the neighborhood? And he pays attention, because he remembered the very day my current gutters were hung (before I bought the place) and judged the workmanship poor at the time.

* * *

I'm still stuck with the vivid dreams. As a for instance I dreamnt that I was in Mexico City as a hurricane brewed, and yet the population wouldn't heed my warnings. Fearing it was a language problem I hired a young man as an intepreter, but he simply spouted a poetic version of my words that did little to arouse attention. When the storm hit the city was pulverised.

A moment later I was in a dark hallway with two Skittles vending machines against the wall. A quarter was in both machines, and I remember thinking how grand a gesture that was; how I should pay it forward in the future and brighten someone's day for the cost of mere pocket change.

Then a man appeared out of the blue, and announced he'd released the tiger. Sure enough, behind them a fierce wild tiger appeared.

In another dream I was in a grocery store trying to find/buy some Nutty Bars, and for some reaosn it was a very elaborate process, as if they were illegal to own. Soon I was in a prison that was more like an elaborate dormitory, and there was a crooked and sadistic guard who made sport of some of the prisoners. I tried to avoid him but got into it over - you guessed it - the Nutty Bars.

Sweet stuff huh?

Now I don't read anything into this stuff, and I sure don't believe it to be any reflection of my mental state, so please spare me the psycho-babble.

The bad part of this is my sleep is interrupted quite often; the good part is instead of having six blank hours a night, I now have a mini-movie to look forward to while I sleep. It feels, honestly, like I've gained extra hours in my life.

OK, way too long of a post. Have a good one!

The Wacky Shack

I may not have taken money for hosting my sisters kids, but that doesn't mean the buggers got away scott free. I made 'em work by golly.

My shed had stood 3/4ths done for nearly a year. This failure prevented me from storing bikes/tools/mowers in it, items which by default wound up on my cellar steps. That blocked me from using those steps, which meant I couldn't move my Mom's freezer into my basement or move some items out to make room for it . .

It was all such a vicious cycle.

So for whatever reason I chose Saturday the 6th to hammer away at the project. With the help of my nephew I created two wooden doors for the shed and installed a lock. The doors were mildly Polish in construction but met the need. (hey hey - I'm 100% Polish. I'm allowed to jest)

That was an enormous task for the handiness challenged yours truly, but with fire in my belly I pressed on. We papered the roof of the shed and began to shingle it. I had never shingled a roof before, nor ever seen it done. Suprisingly, I think we did it right.

[one manly point in my favor: my nephew had constant problems hammering in the roofing nails. I'd look on with distaste, sigh, and then hammer them home in one smooth stroke. I guarantee you I've never been able to do that before, so nice timing God.]

Lu actually helped out quite a bit by handing up shingles. The little munchkin could manage to haul two or three at a time, which was quite impressive given their weight.

Meanwhile YaYa just hung around

(sorry for the hip-hop look in the above photo)

Danged if we didn't finish the shed, once and for all. This was, oh man, this was the Slapinions equivalent of someone finally finishing the Crazy Horse sculpture in South Dakota. It was THAT monumental to me.

Well, we weren't quite finished. The next day we primed and painted it.

* * *

Going back to the 6th for a second. It was a *great* day. Not only because of the shed, but because I finalized a huge account that day. It began with a call, out of the blue, from a competitor who could no longer satisfy a client and wanted to toss the business our way. At  first she was hesitant to go with our price, but I called her back and made sure she knew I recognized the grandness of the favor and would repay it down the road. In other words, I was in her debt. 

So she put the word in for us and the clients rep came to meet with me. I toured with him and he seemed satisfied, but then he asked me for X and Y and Z . I was disheartened but answered honestly. Logistically and finanically I just couldn't meet his demands. I braced for the worst.

But whatdaya know, he liked that. Part of the reason they were jumping ship was that they'd been promised the moon and been let down. He said he prefered to hear a 'no' then to deal with that situation again. That was Thursday.

Midway through the shed project on Saturday my cellphone rang. We gotthe account!

It's a day in/day out struggle to keep a customer happy, especially one with as many personnel as this guy, and we're still ironing out the bumps. But if their business in Milwaukee remains constant and they continue to frequent us the account will be on pace to bring in revenue in the mid six figures by years end. I wouldn't bet the house on that happening, but it stands out there as a glorious opportunity on the horizon.

Knock on some serious wood.

I don't work on commision, so I won't see a dime. But those numbers mean I might be able to avoid pulling the trigger on the annual layoffs that seemed inevitable just a few weeks ago (or at least the worst of them).

So to celebrate I took the family - all nine of us at that point - out to Olive Garden the following weekend. The-single-most-expensive-dinner-of-my-life, thanks in part to my foolish 'get whatever you want!' comment to a growing 14 year old boy.

Ah, it was worth it. It's nice to have something to celebrate once in awhile. :)

Lightning Bug Lane

Sure, everyone's concerned about a new name for Lump. But in the meantime we've come up with a new title to refer to our street: Lightning Bug Lane.

I have never seen so many fireflies in such a small area. If you go out at twilight you'd swear a small patch of the night sky has fallen to the earth. There's soft twinkling lights everywhere you look.

This past week I took the kids out - one kid at a time, one kid a day - to capture some fireflies. First up was YaYa, intrepid bug hunter and collector for years now. She and I caught perhaps a dozen and a half without even trying, and one of our neighbors even joined in, proclaiming with delight that it was the first time in her 50-odd years she'd ever captured one!

Next up was Lu, accompanied by her cousin. Not quite as experienced or aggressive a bug gal, Lu still caputred a good dozen or so for herself.

On the third day came Smiley, who joined the hunt after a day of fun with Grandma.

Smiley has a well known aversion to insects, stemming from the time a colony of ants swarmed him at a picnic a year or two ago (it's mentioned here on the site somewhere). Therefore I wasn't expecting a very long hunt, but boy was I mistaken! He seemed to have discovered his calling and caught them with an ease that was remarkable.

(his hunt was earlier in the evening then the girls and so the pictures turned out better)

That's a lighting bug clenched between his fingers in both (above and below) shots.

Unlike the girls, who were fond of releasing the bugs, Smiley fought it tooth and nail. But in the end he gave in and they were set free.

A very fun way to spend a few minutes each night, and it was great that each kid got their alone time with me.

In closing, here's a shot of my niece wearing the 'suit of armor' I bought Smiley.

and one of our now empty bird's nest in the shed. I guess/hope the birds grew up and flew off on their own.