More sifting and sorting and I have met my target. My sewing studio no longer looks as if it is getting tricked out for a garage sale. I love “tidy.” The cistern closets have been put back together. It makes sense that two older folks such as Dennis and me wouldn’t need to put anything on the floor for storage . . . for now. In part there was no way I wanted to take a chance of just in case there may be a spot that would like to cure a bit more. I had socks on when I put the shelves back on the wall brackets and there were no indications of socks wanting to stick to the floors. At supper Dennis commented how good it felt to be able to navigate the basement and not wiggle through isles of stuff. Yes, Dennis . . . our basement is back to normal . . . again. Dennis’ comment alluded to the fact that we have thought that many, many times. Hey, if we don’t try to keep our little homestead up to snuff one item at a time, it could be overwhelming. I don’t do overwhelming well.
Updates from July, 2018 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts
-
Noreen
-
Noreen
I think Dennis could sell ice to Eskimos. Upon cleaning out our cistern closets to get the floors painted, there were 10 viable fluorescent light tubes that we had been storing. Some small round, some larger round and two grow light tubes. Dennis and I have learned our lesson when it comes to our hands and fingers and the dexterity they do not have in putting those tubes correctly into the lamps.
Dennis was gone for 15 minutes up and down Stauffer Avenue and came back empty handed . . . the bundles of tubes are no longer in need of our storage. Gotta love that schmooze that the ole cowboy can spin.
We found out going to Lowe’s that it is very cost effective to purchase the LED lights in one complete lamp. Hand it up, plug it in and there you have it. The LED is wonderful in the sewing studio.
As warm as it was today, that was the entire list of things to do today. Right now at seven in the evening, it is dark. Yes, we are in a storm watch. All down spouts are on, complete with a few extensions on the spouts of the patio porch. Why take a chance!
We are gaining on the epoxy order. We knew that with two closets with no air circulation of their own, it would take awhile. The Culligan man was here today with salt for our softner and he commented that we must have been doing some painting. Yup, we are gaining and the fans are doing their part. This too will pass.
-
Noreen
Last night before I went to bed, I did something I have never ever done before. I put a call in to our city police department. As I had been closing down for the night, I looked out the south window and there was our neighbor who had let his dog out for evening. As the dog was at the full length of the chain, our neighbor was kicking the dog multiple times. The dog couldn’t get away. The neighbor then drug the dog by the chain around its neck into the house. It was 10:30 when I called and spoke to the dispatcher and allowed her to know that this was not an isolated instance. By the time I went to the west end of the house for bed, there was a police car at our neighbor’s home.
I have spoken to him several times when he was out in the yard, kicking at the dog for digging a hole in the grass or chewing on the bark of a tree. He always gave frustrated answers like he couldn’t understand why the dog didn’t know better. How about working with the dog and training it and then rewarding good behavior.
There are some people who should not have pets. That dog has no idea what it is like to run . . . only as far as the chain allows.I did call the police department this afternoon and allowed them to know I was making an inquiry. The officer who had been at the house said he gave the neighbor a warning. Any further complaints would have the dog removed. The officer said the neighbor said he was teaching the dog discipline . . . yup, right at the end of a steel toed boot. The neighbor was warned about discipline compared to abuse.
This afternoon the dog had been outside for most of the afternoon. Dennis put a pail of water at the edge of Stauffer Avenue so the dog and his chain could reach it for a drink.
I won’t hesitate to keep an eye on the dog. I have been neighbors to his man for 22 years, but I won’t look the other way when he feels the only authority he has is to hurt an innocent animal. The neighbor picked up the puppy at a truck stop where the puppies were being given away. Six months ago, I am sure he thought that tiny little puppy would always stay that way. Now the dog is 70 to 80 lbs, looking like a bit of pit bull in him. If there is retaliation, I will deal with it then. People can be such animals.
-
Noreen
I have often mentioned before that when my heart and spirit are aching it is best for me to remain busy. What might you say would cause my heart and spirit to ache? That would be my younger brother Michael.
The esophageal cancer reared its ugly head for a second time for Michael this early spring. The plans for radiation and chemo were on track and had begun. I stopped to see Michael and JoAnn on Saturday. They were scheduled to travel back to Rochester on Monday for the 3:00 p.m. treatment and remain for the full four days and return to the farm on the weekend. It was just great seeing him, hugging him and wishing him all the good I could.
Sunday afternoon they were on their way to the Rochester ER as Michael was not doing well. JoAnn texted a message with “more when I know more.” I received a text this forenoon. Michael has pneumonia in his left lung. The stint that they inserted in his esophagus as they were preparing for the radiation and chemo treatment had created a fistula, a leak. All that was taken via his mouth had been allowing some drainage into the middle of his chest . . . called mediastinum. They don’t how the fistula came about. No more drinking or eating anything, no more treatment of the cancer until the mediastinum situation is cleared up. It may take two weeks. Michael will have a feeding tube in his stomach for nutrition and IV antibiotics. Not much good news in that text. JoAnn retired as a surgical nurse. She knows the skinny. She is my brother’s saving grace as a lay person would not have made that trip to the ER on Saturday, but perhaps waited until their appointment time on Monday.
I needed to stay busy and lighten my heavy heart. I decided to use up the last of the epoxy paint mixture and give my closet floors a second coat. It had been 48 hours and the recoat was listed as 8 hours. It’s not like it was not warranted as the rough troweled pitted floors took it right in. Let the fans run and get this done.
Prayers are not sent only at the end of my days when the day is dark. I am sending some ALL day long.
-
Noreen
My oh my, I am having a lazy day. It wasn’t until this mid afternoon that I wandered down into the basement and peered into the two closets that are sporting a new clean surface. Of course! I bent down and gingerly put my index finger on the surface to check on whether the epoxy had dried . . . or not. The index finger came back as clean as before. I am not venturing into these closets today or for perhaps the rest of the week. The arms, shoulders and hands are resting. There were many pits in the concrete of the cistern floor that needed to have the paint mixture worked into for full coverage. This was a floor that was roughed in most likely with hand mixed concrete. It was meant to hold water and never intended that some day it would be an important part of the home as a pantry.
There was a time when an apartment house was being torn down in my brother’s area. Dennis and I went and purchased four of the top units of the kitchen cabinets. Two were set on top of each other for the cistern closet and the remaining two were set on top of each other in the garage. Great storage. Anyway . . . it would not surprise me if there would remain some spots on the cistern floor that would feel as it all was set up and dry, but due to the amount that I spread on, needs to be totally left alone. Better to be safe than sorry. Both Dennis and I were surprised the odor was not stronger than it was. Today I confessed to Dennis that this was one job I dreaded to start for fear I would mess it up. Cross this project off of our list.
-
Noreen
This was quite a day for me. A solo road trip north and beyond. Of course a stop at Fairfax is always on the top of the list for a “Kevin” fix. Traveling on to Glencoe for my cousin’s daughter’s funeral was huge and sad. A loss of someone so young . . . sad.
Aunt Janet asked me back to her home in Brownton after the funeral luncheon. Sometimes when one has lost a close person as Aunt Janet has in the death of Shelly, they need to talk. I willingly drank a lot of coffee and let Janet talk until she was spent. When I left she was changed into her robe and planning on putting her feet up in her recliner. The best medicine for rejuvenation.
Down Highway 212, Michael was my next stop. Michael will be in Rochester this next week for his next round of radiation and chemo. I needed to see him, hug him and spend a few minutes with him and JoAnn. It saddens me to see him fragile . . . the twinkle in his eyes remains and I hang onto that as a sure positive.
Coming home to Dennis was just what I needed. His ole cowboy logic . . . you can’t beat it. He was enjoying Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and toast. If I had not wanted out of my shoes so badly, I would have clicked my heels together and chanted “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Tomorrow is Sunday and no firm fast plans for Stauffer Avenue. I love that.
-
Noreen
The 4th of July holiday was a safe one and fairly free of rain for all to enjoy whatever they chose.
I have an aunt on Dad’s side, Janet. Janet could never have children and she was a widow at the age of 42. Janet lent a hand to her twin brother’s child, Dan, who was farming the family farm. Dan’s parents have been gone for some time. Dan never married. Janet helped in the gardens, the kitchen, the home butchering and whatever and wherever she could. Janet was very close to her twin brother’s children: Dan, Kelly and Konnie. Janet stepped in as their mom. She helped with whatever when she could, gave advise if asked for it and took it as well as she could when she was told to mind her own business.
Konnie’s daughter, Shelly, was a small child when she was severely injured in a car accident. Shelly’s stature was small and fragile due to that car accident. It didn’t hold her down. She excelled in school and went on to get her master’s degree and enjoyed the academic world of teaching.
Shelly married in her mid thirties. Shelly was thrilled when she had a baby boy that is just about a year old right now in mid 2018. Shelly never batted an eye when circumstances played out that she would be a single mom. Shelly began feeling ill after the birth of her son. Shelly’s mom believed in homeopathic healing and counseled Shelly to follow. Shelly was under her mom’s care. Homeopathic treated for breast cancer, then they determined it was mastitis. Drinking of cleansing waters, soaking of the feet, nothing to eat but raw vegetables and raw fruit. No medical records piled up for Shelly. Shelly passed away last night.
Aunt Janet’s heart is broken. How can logical, seemingly smart adult people fall for all the so called healing treatments of homeopathic. How can this be in the 21st century when we have wonderful trained medical people? Might the secret be that our loved ones need to be seen by the wonderful trained medical people?
-
Noreen
It’s a day. So very thankful that the nine inches of rain was northwest of us. I checked in on the kids and they were o.k. I am taking it easy over the 4th. It’s not lights out . . . but close.
-
Noreen
When I lay in bed last night there were lightning flashes to the far northwest. I had had a good day of local effort and I drifted off to sleep easily. The next thing I knew the rain was pounding off of the west awning as daylight welcomed me. Good grief. The final count was 2.65 inches of rain. Our backyard was back to being a reflective pool. Oh well.
I had an agenda for the morning. I had dug out the Weiss utilitarian scissors and it and coffee cup went out to the patio porch with me. In times past we had this great patio slab poured north of the pickup garage. A bit later we had our wood tick carpenter put upon the slab a 12′ x 16′ porch connected to the pickup garage. In 2015 we put a plywood sub floor on top of the concrete to increase our odds should we have a flooded patio porch. With three projects years apart with three different people involved in the construction process . . . I had never taken a hard look as to how much of a rectangle we had. We have no true rectangle. We have more of a trapezoid. We do have two parallel sides. The rest of the story is that the carpet that is and was sold as 12′ x 16′ will not ever be unrolled and viola . . . there you are.
The benefit of the indoor outdoor carpet is that it can be cut and trimmed without dislocating the entire hand that is operating the scissor. It look me quite a while but Dennis was there for moral support. With such a project that means a whole bunch.
We have now had chicken noodle soup for supper and we are here to tell you the patio porch is totally back together. The furniture is again functional, the television is operational and most importantly the rocking chair rocks. The vehicles are back in the garages. Ironically on this Sunday . . . Dennis looked at it all and “It was good.”
-
Noreen
Five in the afternoon and it is dark city outside. Weather warnings are out and to make sure we are aware of that there have been some strong claps of thunder.
My sister’s oldest child is soon going to be a grandpa. I have received a baby shower invitation. In between time I have been poodling over what I can get done with my sewing machine.
The plan was ready to implement when Dennis asked for my help in the patio porch. The heavy Berber carpet that we are replacing needed to be drug out of the pickup garage as the neighbor gave us the go ahead to burn it in his fire ring. That would most likely give phase to most people . . . we are not most people and it was the perfect way for Dennis and I to get rid of it in a timely fashion. I will comment that the smoke went straight up and didn’t piss off any neighbors. There is a benefit for living on the outer edge of the city. I give my ole cowboy kudos on that decision of replacing it. His thought was that, yes we could make it work, but . . . now he and I could get it up and out for replacement. Perhaps the next time we had a huge rain dump we might not be physically able to fight working with the weight of it. It’s always important to Dennis that he and I remain as independent as possible. I totally agree.
With a cool treat of tea in Dennis’ hand I did make tracks into the sewing studio. My scheme for a baby blanket was itching me. About the time I was ready to hit the green button for the first stitching, Dennis was at the back door. He asked if I would help him for a bit. The vacuum was out in the center of the patio porch. I agreed I would vacuum up the plywood floor as I could see out of the corner of my eye, the new outdoor indoor carpeting had now been moved into the pickup garage. Heck . . . the fire ring was still smoldering.
Here we are at five in the afternoon. The new carpet has been laid upon the plywood floor. As it had been bent in two for the trip from Lowe’s to St. James we agreed upon leaving it lay overnight and let it relax. Truth to be told that will be easier than getting Dennis to relax and work with the fitting of the carpet to the floor for another day. I do get it. That patio porch is Dennis’ sanctuary. It was no different when I had to do some work in the basement last week when we had water in the cistern closet. That area, the basement, is my sanctuary. Life is sweet when we honor and respect the other member of the team. We are a team of two . . . I don’t think anybody else could tolerate us so I am quite sure we will remain the exclusive team on Stauffer.