What's a Delmer Look Like?

June 27, 2008

Flood

So, last night when I got home I decided to take a shower. The boys and I were going to go see The Hulk (Iron Man was better) and I wanted to freshen up.

As I typically do, I started the hot water running before I stepped into the shower. It takes just a moment to for the water heat up and as this is about the same amount of time it takes me to drop my shorts the pre-heating/getting naked portion of showering typically works out to a tidily-timed single step.

I stuck a hand in the water stream before committing my entire body to the flow — you only have to step into water so cold that it reduces your nipples to the size of consistency of a Dippin' Dot but once to learn your lesson; scorching hot water is no treat either.

The water was tepid.

None of the boys had a look about them like they'd been anywhere near the shower.

We'd had a big storm the day before. This felt more than coincidental.

It also felt bad.

And possibly expensive.

Like I said, the water was tepid (which is French for "cold enough to shrink man parts but not so cold that you have to worry about brushing up against the shower tiles and etching them"), and I had a brief, yet refreshing, shower. The reduced man-part size made getting dressed all the faster.

After the movie I went into the cellar. In a moment it became clear that my cellar would not have been a good place to seek shelter from the prior day's storm. Sure, we might have been safe from the wind, but there's a good chance we would have drowned.

Based on the amount of water in a bowl that had been on a low shelf I had at least six inches of water in the cellar.

It's not a lot, I know, but it was enough to put the water heater flame out and, despite my best efforts, I was unable to get it restarted (either last night or this morning).

I called my brother first thing today, he's an HVAC guy, and he told me what I needed to do to fix it. He also told me he's going to crew for a racing boat this weekend in the Chesapeake Bay. This led me to suggest that if a captain were serious about winning a race that filling his crew with Wells Family Members might not be the way to go. My brother said, "No, I'm the perfect size for" … whatever that thing is called where you lean on one side to keep the boat from capsizing (he knew the term) … "One big guy is a lot better than two smaller people for that. Smaller people are good for" … other sailing terms that involved climbing and something to do with a sail… "but when it comes to drinking beer and keeping the boat upright I'm perfect."

Oh, if you're curious, I'm sitting at work unshaven and with bad hair. I do have clean pits and man parts.

Technorati Tags: Sailing, HVAC

Posted by delmer at 7:59 AM | Comments (10)

June 26, 2008

High Winds

Last night, just about the time I was drifting off to sleep, the Tornado Sirens went off. For those of you unfamiliar (that is, foreigners) Tornado Sirens are sounded whenever we have a tornado watch and/or warning. They also go off Wednesdays at noon as part of testing the system and as a reminder for me to take a bike ride.

As you can see one of the problems I have with the sirens is that I can't recall when they go off (except for Wednesday). I also don't remember if it's a watch that means conditions are right and a warning means a tornado had been sighted or if it's the other way around. I use the non-Wednesday-noontime sirens to mean to turn on the TV as I know the weatherperson will tell me what to do.

So, I turned on the TV.

My boys all piled into my room as we tried to sort things out. One of them, the oldest, seemed to be overreacting in my opinion and insisted we go to my Wizard-of-Oz-like cellar (which meant braving the severe rain to get to the outside door.) While I imagine a lot of calm people have been swept away by tornadoes I'm not one to panic and wanted a bit more info before I went that far. As our weatherman had, just moments before said he was surprised we'd had a tornado warning and not just a severe thunderstorm warning, I wasn't sure seeking shelter was needed. (Also, the neighboring county, that I can bike to in five minutes, had been dropped from Tornado-Warning status to Severe-Thunderstorm status.)

Then of course, as we noticed the storm had passed over us (via Doppler Weather Radar images) our weather team reminded us that a Tornado Warning (which is what we were under) means we should seek shelter immediately. Doppler Radar had detected rotation earlier.

[As an aside, if you live in a place that doesn't get severe electrical storms you really don't know what you're missing. So long as nobody gets hurt they're really sort of amazing and a damned fine example of what mother nature can due when she sets her mind to it.]

A wall cloud was spotted several miles away. There was lots of thunder and lightening. And some small hail here and there. We had high winds, serious rain and the thunder and lightening in my neighborhood (this would have been when Doppler Radar had Hilliard getting the brunt of the storm … I'm not sure how the hail missed us).

I have an old tree in my front yard that is trying to fall down one piece at a time. We can get a light breeze and this thing will drop a small, dead branch; I have to pick bits of it up each time I mow the yard. This morning I was interested in seeing what the storm might have done to it. And the storm did seemingly nothing; or the tree gave ups it's branches so easily they were blown into the next neighborhood.

What the storm seemed to have done was pick up a piece of 3x4 landscape timber that was about two feet long and toss it down the alley. And really, my first thought was that a kid had done it who'd, apparently, been taking a walk outside after the storm … yea, it didn't make a lot of sense but neither did the wind thought; my neighbor had five 2x4s leaning against his garage and they were still leaning upright not far from my landscape timber. I picked up my chunk of wood, put it on the pile and walked around to the van. As I got to the front yard there were four or five 3-foot long pieces of landscape timber in my front yard. Again, hoodlums made more sense than anything. And then I noticed the swatch of leaves laying with the timbers — leaves that had been in a pile next to the mound of cut up landscape timbers in the backyard area.

Landscape timbers are not terribly aerodynamic. Had the leaves not been with them I'd have thought kids did it even as I struggled for a motive.

A Motorola Razor isn't terribly aerodynamic either. Yet, somehow, the high winds opened my back door, after unlocking it, and swept my cell phone off the kitchen table, where I'm sure I left it, and then placed it on a table near the grill — where it got rained on for a good, long time. As irritating as this is I'm pleased to report that the high winds were kind enough to lock up after themselves and not make a mess of the kitchen.

(The Razor had gone into emergency-shutdown mode when it got wet (yea, that's it). I took the battery out this morning and let things dry for an hour before putting it all back together. It is up and running.)

Technorati Tags: Hilliard, Thunderstorms

Posted by delmer at 7:13 AM | Comments (6)

June 12, 2008

The Pain

Just the other day I realized I was squatting all the weight I wanted to. I'd reached my goal, as undefined as it might be.

My primary goal, of course, is to not get injured. My secondary goal is to squat a certain weight which dovetails into the tertiary goal of having that weight easy to get on the bar (that is, I'd rather use a couple of big plates than a bunch of small ones. For example, squatting 315 would be easier to load than squatting 310, as it would be three 45-pound plates on each side rather than two 45s and then smaller plates that would require the doing of some math. I don't squat 315; please refer to the primary goal.)

Reaching the goal also meant something else. Squatting would get easier as time passed and the weight remained the same. I'm sure I'd eventually add more weight but I've no desire to squat big shitloads of weight — I'm not training for the Olympics.

Yesterday I was at Wafelenbak and she had a post about how she was ill and as much as there is never a good time to be ill it doubly sucked as she'd been making progress in her training and this would certainly set her back. This led me to think about the numerous times I'd had similar things happen.

Last night I was cleaning out the rainwater sewer drain in front of my house. There's part of me that thinks this is something the city should take care of, but they've looked at it and I seem to have a greater interest in having this project completed than they do; it's my front yard that has the flooding problem.

Anyway, I dug down past the two pipes that run from either side of the larger pipe — the one is normal manhole-cover sized — and serve as inlet and outlet pipes. In the end I removed about two feet of dirt and while the two smaller pipes still have some cloggage in them I'm thinking the whole thing will drain a bit better.

Digging it out required that I lie atop and over some landscape timbers that give the drain a decorative, almost festive, look. So, I was lying on my stomach, my ribs actually, and reaching down and into the drain. And I was almost done. And one of my ribs made a funny move and it hurt just a little. And it may not have been a rib so much as a muscle or cartilage or one of my spleens; it's hard to know without actually cutting me open and having a look.

It hurt enough in the night that it woke me up once or twice. It isn't a sharp pain and strikes me as something that will go away in a few days or a week.

It also strikes me as something that will make doing squats sort of tricky. Which makes sense as the "I've reached a goal" thought obviously jinxed me.

Before anybody says anything I have seen a doctor about it already. Well, it was my endocrinologist and I just asked him if it was possible to bruise a rib and if it were cracked would I know about it. I also told him it was my plan to see how it felt after a few days before getting worried; he thought that was a reasonable idea. (I explained further that the reason I was asking him about it was so I'd be able to tell my mother, "Yes, I've talked to a doctor about my ribs.")

I'm not sure what the pain in the side will do to riding The New Bike. But you can be sure I'll tell you about it.

The photo on this page is (obviously) a sign promoting and American Indian Pow Wow at the Franklin County Fairgrounds.  

Technorati Tags: Injuries, Yard work

Posted by delmer at 8:55 PM | Comments (8)

June 10, 2008

Yard Work

I've recently been doing something that would drive every woman reader here, except the local ones, to want me in the worst way.  (The "wanting me" part seems to be a supply-and-demand thing. The supply of me is too great locally which, of course, drives demand down.).

And that thing is: Yard work.

"Big deal," the men are all saying. "I'm out in the yard several days a week. Anytime my wife asks me to plant something I'm there. With just the smallest amount of complaining. As soon as the game/race/match it over."

And therein lies my charm. I'm doing it without direction. I'm just a guy who has decided he could use some landscaping done and has gotten busy with a shovel, wheelbarrow, crowbar and hammer.

I'm also a straight guy and this brings with it it's own set of landscaping challenges. But I soldier on.

I've recently had three yards of soil delivered and what appears to be a yard or two of mulch (it was on the same trailer as the soil and the guy let me have it for a song.) In addition I'd already purchased 15 bags of mulch and I had two left over from last year.

Last night, after spending far too long driving past a Lowes that I was unable to find (and these places are huge… they're the only man-made things that can be seen from outer space) I finally homed in on it an purchased a piece for my in-ground sprinkler system. (Spread your arms out as far as you can reach and make one slow spin. My yard is about as big as the area covered by your arms when you spin — yet I have an in-ground irrigation system. And I'm have a well for it. And I live in the city and have city water for the house.) Samson helped me install the sprinkler.

While at Lowes I also picked up two Flowering Spirea plants. They were about $19.00 each and had I known that two years ago I'd have put a lot more effort into not killing the two that these guys replaced. They are currently in the ground in an area that is mulch ready.

You'll notice the photos below. They mark a plan I've had, and possibly tried to implement, before. And that is: A picture a day. Pictures make the web look nicer and just about any picture will do the trick. I always like photos I see from other places and, while many of the things I put up might bore some, I'm convinced someone, somewhere will find them interesting (To those people who find some of the pictures mundane I say don't worry, I'll eventually hit upon something you find interesting).

These photos are of my front yard at something before 7 a.m. In the middle of this picture is a storm drain that is packed so solid with mud that it creates less of a draining situation and more of a reservoir effect in my front lawn. I've had the city out to look at it and that's just what they did; look at it. I imagine they wrote up a work order to do something further with it but that the piece of paper blew out the window, unnoticed, as the workers drove off to another site.

The flooding sort of spreads into the road a little bit and into the alley between my house and the Masonic Lodge.

Tonight, assuming the drain is empty, I'm going to take a shovel to it to see if I can free things up.

Technorati Tags: Gardening, Yard work

Posted by delmer at 4:21 PM | Comments (7)

June 9, 2008

Strong Language

I'm not one to be put off by strong language in the bedroom.

Let's face it, there needs to be some sort of talking going on while playing snugglebunnies or the whole thing become a cacophony of grunting and slapping sounds with the occasional vibrating and oogah-horn noises thrown in.

And since a man wants to be careful of what he says in bed — women are always listening and taking notes and a man doesn't want to say anything he can be held accountable for later — cursing (and praying) seem like safe bets. And while I can't explain it somehow screaming "Oh God, oh God, oh God" does seem a bit more romantic than screaming, "I'm going to mow that freakin' yard and then spread some mulch and then paint the window casings!"

Wait. Before we go any further, let me explain why cursing/praying make for better bedroom banter:

Oh God, oh God, oh God: Short and to the point. Rolls off the tongue. If there is a God this might draw his attention to you and the swell job you're doing pleasing your lady. (If you are not married and this is simple fornication, try to make a face that looks repentant during the act. If it is adultery, choose a different deity entirely; maybe that Indian gal with all the arms.)

I'm going to mow that freakin' yard and then spread some mulch and then paint the window casings!: This one has several problems going for it. Firstly, it sets you up for a lot of work just about the time you'll want to slip into the DFS* coma. Secondly, it's a lot to say and in order to get it all out before the exciting climactic end some guys are going to have to start it just about the time they start foreplay.

The guidelines I've laid out here apply only to the men. Women can say anything in bed without too much worry. We're just happy she's there and won't be any less happy if she spends the time she's with us talking about all the other guys who were so much better at pleasing her than we are. It's not like were listening or going to remember anything she says anyway and, secretly, we're thankful for the noise as the chatter keeps us oriented with respect to top-and-bottom navigation. (And boys, if you're doing it right you're eventually going to lose track. This is why I always keep a sextant next to the bed and shoot the North Star before getting out the oils.)

(I've got to say, though, with women top-end and bottom-end aren't really all that important. God, if there is one, was certainly looking out for the guys there. Of course He knew well ahead of time what buffoons we'd be in the bedroom.)

Where were we?

Ah yes.

I'm not one to be bothered by strong language in the bedroom. Thus far in this post I haven't given any examples but let me just say I'm not put off by women screaming things like, shit, fuck or damn. (I can't tell you the number of times I've had a woman climb back into the bed screaming, "What the fuck are you doing!?")

Having said all of that, hearing men curse while I'm in bed is so much not the turn on. Especially at 6:45 in the morning. Especially when my kids' window is on the same side of the house as mine is.

What woke me up this morning? "Something's fucking wrong here," said by one of the construction guys across the street.

And he's right. There are many things fucking wrong there. Not the least of which is construction guys cursing at 6:45 when the city says they can't start working until 7:30. And what the fuck were they doing early Saturday morning that woke me up? And how did that external wall that tilts in for 3/4 of the way up before tilting out (reaching only true vertical at the pivot point) pass inspection? And why is it taking so long to build; is it because they have an American crew working the job? Some Latinos dug out a basement and stuck a three-bedroom house atop it over a long weekend last year (and yes! I'm exaggerating).

I really don't care how long the project takes, though it is taking too long. I don't care how much noise they make; I can typically sleep through anything. However, I don't need an early-morning "fuck" that might wake my kids up.

And I certainly don't need construction guys taking a piss outside by their truck a short stone's throw from the Port-A-John.

*DFS: Drool, Fart, Snore.

Technorati Tags: Contruction

Posted by delmer at 7:50 AM | Comments (10)

June 1, 2008

My Sunday: Part I

(Yes, yes yes. I know it's Tuesday and this is posted as Sunday's entry. I just have a lot keeping me busy. Of course, I'm anal enough that I want an entry every day. If it's any consolation, I thought this up Sunday.)

Sunday morning I popped out of bed and set about getting things done. I've been sort of sorry when it comes to landscaping and I'm trying to be a better neighbor this year. When I rented I was very good about keeping the property up (I put out 30 bags of mulch one year and spent hour after hour weeding the massive garden area) as I felt an obligation to the landlord. Of course I was just separated then … anyway, the excuse I've used for not keeping my landscaping up is that I just haven't cared; the divorce sort of sucked the wind out of me.

Or, I'm just a slug. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

Whatever it is I decided to set it all aside this year and get some stuff done. So I started ripping up the old timbers.

The nice thing about the landscape timbers is that the guy who put them down did a very good job of keeping a straight line and when they come up they've killed the grass, and in many cases left a nice indentation, in a straight line. This makes edging very easy — super easy, actually, as I bought a special shovel to do the edging with. (As any man will tell you, often the best part of a job is being able to buy a new tool.)

The not-so-nice thing about the timbers is that some of them have been screwed together using the John Holmes of lag bolts and I had to spend a good deal of time unscrewing and breaking heads off bolts to free those up. What's worse is that some are attached with Ron-Jeremy-sized pieces of rebar (and I mean Ron Jeremy's height, not his tool size… he's not all that tall); so I've got about 2 1/2 feet of rebar banged into the ground securing timbers to the timbers beneath them and then to the ground.

Several times as I was trying to separate attached timbers I found myself in a position that I was sure was not good for my back which, of course, meant I was in absolutely no danger of tweaking it; tweakings happen only when I'm tying my shoes or shaking the tire loose from The Mighty Schwinn. Still I exercised caution.

Just about any time I was in a position to use a pry bar to separate timbers I found the lower timber, which I think would have been the fulcrum, was rotten enough that it would reduce itself to powder any time pressure was applied to it. Any timbers I was prying against and trying to loosen fell seemed to have been made of trees straight out of the Petrified Forest.

As the timbers came up mulch went down. I'd purchased 15 bags (and think I'll need at least as many more) of the blackest stuff I could find without having to pay $5.00 a bag.

I'm nowhere near done. But, I'm not trying to be super-gardener-guy. I just need to work this in around other things — you can read about one of those things in tomorrow's entry (which I'll post later tonight.)

 

Technorati Tags: Gardening

Posted by delmer at 8:50 PM | Comments (5)

May 19, 2008

A video blog

This video is too long. The sound is bad in most places. I say "Mays" when I mean "May" (as in James). My hair starts out wet and goes to scattered by the wind. I chopped out the bit where I introduce lunch. You can't see the dog in the minivan. The reference to my ex-wife puzzles even me. The part where I'm suiting up in my Red White and Blue jersey is all about a crack about myself that is hard to hear. At the end I'm telling you that in the middle of a 25-mile ride you get ice cream; in cases of high wind that cut things to 15 miles you get Corona.

Mostly what is wrong is that I look so incredibly old and like I need a good moisturizer.

Oh, and I sound like a hillbilly.

It is something new and different though. Originally it was going to be my Saturday in two minutes. It became my weekend in seven minutes. And none of the gardening stuff is in there.

Technorati Tags: Cycling, Video

Posted by delmer at 4:19 PM | Comments (14)

March 15, 2008

Gizzards

In light of this story about my dishwasher, I thought I'd share something that happened last night.

As I stood at the sink in my kitchen I noticed a smell of some sort. Not a horrible smell, but a non-visitor-friendly smell. But only if that visitor was standing near my sink.  Realizing that my dishwasher might be full of dirty dishes (the green light was not on) and that opening it might release a stronger version of the non-visitor friendly smell, I boldly pulled it open. Naturally, yet somehow surprisingly, it was full of dishes. Oddly enough it didn't smell.

This left the garbage disposal as the bad-smell culprit as the trash can was empty. I fired the disposal up and was met with a sound that I'd describe as chicken gizzard being shredded. I believe it was a gizzard as, (1) the other day when I was looking through the baked chicken I'd removed from the oven I sadly noted the gizzard seemed to be gone and (2) gizzards are sort of tough and, while no match for masticatory skills or digestive tract, may put some serious miles on a garbage disposal.

So tough are gizzards that I couldn't be bothered to wait for the entire thing to be ground up. Hey, I had things to do. I'm satisfied, however, by the sound the disposal made that about 95% of the gizzard has been taken care of.  This morning the kitchen had a very pleasant, non spoiled-food smell about it.

It also had an odd green glow that seemed to be caused by a light emitted from the front of my dishwasher. I really need to sort out what that's all about when I get home tonignt. 

Posted by delmer at 10:11 AM | Comments (2)

March 13, 2008

Humming, not Blowing

Many years ago, just after my separation, I was renting a house not too far from Hilliard.  At some point the furnace blower went bad and, like any good renter, I decided to take the furnace apart to see what was wrong.

What I found was that if I pulled a panel off and removed two sheet metal screws I could have the blower sitting in my lap in something like two minutes. I got a quote for a new blower motor that came in at something like $125.  Knowing how easy it was to get the blower in and out I asked to have installation quoted, figuring I could have the whole thing done for less than $175.  Which was a foolish notion, it seems, as the whole thing came to $300. (And if any of you have paid closer to $400 for this service, I may be misremembering the event. It may have been $175 or the motor and $200 for the install.)

In the end I purchased a motor from a supply house for under $70.00 and installed it myself (with some phone support from my brother who is an HVAC genius).

Friday, when at midnight my blower started making a hum in place of anything resembling a breezy output from my vents, I didn't panic.  As a matter of fact I forgot all about it until the next morning when I had my brother on the phone and the hum hit again. He said if it was him, he'd set the blower to run all the time and then, with special care given to his fingers, he'd reach into the blower and get it going by hand. Which is what I did.

He also told me to replace the capacitor.

Which I did for something under $5.00.

And it didn't fix the problem. Which led to another call to my brother. During this call I had to lay the phone down while I tried to hand start the blower. It never did start though it made quite a racket as it sort of tried.  "Good Lord," my brother exclaimed when I picked the phone back up, "if I'd heard that the other night I'd have never suggested a capacitor. Your blower motor is shot."

Unable to get the blower motor started, and unwilling to disconnect the motor so that it didn't hum (and maybe get hot?) all night long, I decided to turn the furnace off, turn the electric blanket up a notch and go without heat one evening. Dad, who was staying the night, thought it a reasonable plan and asked me to set out an extra blanket for him.

Yesterday I returned to the supply house I got the capacitor from and picked up the matching motor (following a call to my brother) for $58.60.  After getting home I had it installed and the house on its way from 50 F (10 C) to 70 F (21 C) in less than an hour's time. 

The hardest part of the whole thing was getting the blower back into the furnace. And the hardest part of this was getting the two sheet metal screws back in their holes due to the non-precision fit of the blower mounting.

I called my brother to report my success and thank him for his help. While I had him on the phone I told him a quote for this job had been $300 (or $400) several years ago and that I figured I'd saved at least $230. 

"Hold on," he said. "That broke on Friday night. If you'd had a guy come out on Saturday it would have been closer to $600. You saved more like $530. You should take that money and buy yourself something nice. That's what a woman would do."

So, I took four of my saved dollars and bought a turkey sandwich and a coke. Well, it was closer to $3.30; so I saved seventy cents.

Posted by delmer at 11:42 AM | Comments (6)

March 9, 2008

From the Local Weather Nerds

COLUMBUS, Ohio — This weekend's blizzard set a record, dumping more than 15 inches of snow in 24 hours and 20 inches in central Ohio in two the last days.

(Per the Live Doppler 10 Weather Team)

Posted by delmer at 10:15 AM | Comments (5)

March 8, 2008

House Sounds

There have been a couple of times in the course of my adult life when a new noise will appear in the house and catch my attention. This is normally a noise no one else will notice but which ultimately means something is about to pass on to the big appliance god (Thor) in the sky.

An example of a new noise is the sort of a harmonic hum a garbage disposal might add to it's normal grinding repertoire prior to ending it's life as a garbage disposal and beginning its life as a heavy thing hanging in a tight space that requires some upper-body contortioning to replace. 

This noise is unlike, and should not be confused with, the sound a disposal makes when a child drops several marbles down it "just to see what happens."  The first noise, the harmonic hum, typically goes unnoticed by everybody except the person who will have to buy the new disposal and then lay beneath the sink banging his head into various pieces of plumbing while the second noise doesn't go unnoticed by anybody in the neighborhood.

I remember sitting on the couch one night and hearing the furnace make a new noise; I asked The Wife at The Time if she noticed the noise; she had not. This would have been ten or twelve years ago and, as I recall, my brother (an HVAC guy) eventually replaced a belt that ran off the blower.

As you know, we're getting a lot of snow, blowing wind, and were under a blizzard warning yesterday.  And so it makes perfect sense that last night the furnace would make a new noise; it makes even more sense that the noise would appear just about midnight.  This was a noise, I think, that would catch anybody's attention though maybe it wouldn't (I think everybody would notice the harmonic hum and the belt-replacement-related noise.)  It was a rather loud hum.

My first thought, and really the only thought that makes any sense, was that my blower motor was humming. The way my furnace works is that the blower kicks on when it's time to pump some warm air into the house and then it turns off when the desired temperature is reached; it then kicks on a minute or two later to blow out any residual heat.

About midnight it kicked on and ran for a few minutes. It kicked off. When it was time to kick back on, it hummed.  And while hmmmmmmmmmmmm is fine for a Wankel engine, it isn't all that good for a blower motor.

My brother called this morning and I told him about the humming. He thinks it's a capacitor and is going to bring me one.

Which, I'm sure you're all saying, is very brotherly of him though not outstanding as your brother would do the same for you.

Perhaps I should point out that my brother lives about 9 hours away. Of course then I'd need to point out that he was going to go mom and dad's tomorrow and I was going to meet the family there anyway.

 

Posted by delmer at 12:49 PM | Comments (2)

September 22, 2006

O is for Oatmeal Raisin

It probably takes just a moment or two for new readers to realize just what a manly man I am.

I'm certain that, should this be the first entry a person happened across, my command of the English language is such that the new reader would, by now, be sitting bolt upright in his/her chair and exclaiming, as much to themselves as possible and yet not even coming close at all to succeeding, that I am most certainly a manly man.

My god, they'd exclaim aloud though, again, trying to whisper, sort of, look at that first sentence. Twenty words long and most of those word contain more than three letters! Why, he hardly uses any of the same words more than once! And the words he does use more than one are very short. Articles mostly. I'll bet he even realizes they're articles. He is truly a manly man.

The rest of you probably appreciate my manliness more on a subconscious level than anything else. You know it's there. You sense it -- sometimes like the sun warming you on a chilly fall day ... sometimes like a pebble in your shoe ... you feel it, it makes you feel different, sometimes in a good way ... sometimes not. You just don't always know what it is. For you, dear not-first-time reader, I've grown a little concerned.

The newness of appreciating my manly-manness has worn off. You've grown numb. Just as the bouncer at the local strip club no longer sees the nude gals on the pole before him (I got this from a Carl Hiassen book) you no longer get the in-your-faceness my manly manness provides new readers. The thrill is kind of gone. You, long ago, quit sending me Oatmeal Raisin cookies. You blame yourself.

Let me assure you. It isn't you. I have failed you. I blame me. (And the Bush administration -- but that's just reflex.)

This weekend that ends. Saturday and Sunday I will prove my manly-manness in a way that will be unshakable. In a way that will never find its way into your subconscious. It will always be there -- in your face -- like a mustard stain on your pastor's shirt.

Today I make a promise to you. This promise will frighten some. Many of you will worry for me -- about my sanity and safety. For, this weekend I will attempt something ... NAY! ... not attempt ... ACCOMPLISH something that even David Blaine has not been able to pull off.

By Sunday night, and this is a promise I make to you all, I will -- and I quote the immortal Samuel L. Jackson here -- have my mini van parked in the motherfuc*in' garage.

Posted by delmer at 6:43 AM | Comments (3)

September 11, 2006

September 11

Today is the five-year anniversary of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.

It seems like it would be wrong to blog about a road trip to OSU today. So, I won't.

At lunch today I went to Home Depot to buy an American flag. I really should have been flying a flag sooner but wanted to make sure I had one up for today. I wish I could easily find a flag that was made in America. I'd pay more for it.

The bracket that holds the flag was loose as one of the screws was missing. Yada yada yada ... 45 minutes later I still had no screw in place and I'd broken a drill bit off in the hole.

It looks like I'll be mounting a new bracket tonight.

About a year ago I stole the two pictures below from Joe.My.God. Click that link to read the story that goes with the pictures.

Posted by delmer at 3:23 PM | Comments (2)

August 14, 2006

How's the kitchen these days

The photo on this page is of the kitchen before the new appliances arrived and the new countertop was put it. In this photo the wallpaper has already been stripped off the wall.

You'll notice the medium-dark blue countertop. Out of view is another, smaller counter the same shade. The wallpaper, while not terribly dark -- think Michael Jackson several treatments ago -- was darker than the plain white walls in this photo.

The new countertop is a lighter color with some brown flecks in it and the walls have been painted some sort of off-white. [I have a call into one of my gay friends and I'm hoping he'll come by and tell me the exact shade as I've thrown the paint cans away and I might need another gallon (gay men do a much better job of identifying paint color than even that machine at Home Depot does.)]

The appliances are all white as well.

The other day, as I glanced around the kitchen, I couldn't help but take in the hospital-operating-room feel of the place. Which is kind of odd inasmuch as I'm not posting a current picture of the kitchen as I've not been able to keep it clean long enough to snap a photo -- even using a high-speed lens. I guess the kitchen has a hospital-operating-room feel if, you know, the doctor cutting into your chest were to leave a stack of mail and crap laying on the table next to your head.

I'm not sure what to do with the kitchen. I lack whatever gene it is that allows a person to do any decorating. I know what I like when I see it -- I just wouldn't know how to get it to that point.

I was afraid my kitchen was going to be condemned to have a stark appearance until the end of time when I decided that I'd hang some of my Iron Man memorabilia on the walls. It looked better. Still stark ... but in a tony kind of way.

For the one or two of you who got that ...

Thank you. Thank you very much. I'll be here all week. Be sure to tip your bartenders and waitpersons.



Rats ... I was unable to find my entry about my gay friends who had just had their home painted ... so I'm unable to provide a link to that story. It will appear as tomorrow's entry, with the link magically appearing in this paragraph.

Posted by delmer at 8:44 AM | Comments (0)

July 3, 2006

Coincidences

I've read several books recently in which one of the characters will say "There's no such thing as coincidences," or something similar.

Sunday I was looking at the flower bed behind the house. There is a phone cable that comes off a pole in the garden, lays across the ground, goes under the fence and disappears under the sod. There are also a couple other lines that come up from the ground that are cut off a couple feet above the flower bed and tucked behind the pole between it and the fence. It looks like a tangle of junk.

I told dad that I was going to bury the wire that was laying on top of the flower bed -- this wire was exposed for about 20 feet. Dad told me he'd looked at the wire and that it didn't appear to go anywhere and that he couldn't imagine the phone company would run a line like that.

The box the wire was terminated to was about chest high on the pole so I opened it. On the interior of the lid was written, "You're welcome."

Dad told a story about being younger and being in a house in which the residents were borrowing phone service from the neighbors. We thought the "you're welcome" might be an indication of that type of borrowing.

Rather than cut the wire I decided to detach a couple of connections from the box. No use in creating a really big problem. I thought I'd call the phone company and have them take a look at things so I could get the mess of wires straightened out.

Coincidentally I saw a phone guy walking down the alley this morning. I flagged him down -- which, as it happens, was really unnecessary as he was on his way to my backyard.

The phone guy said my neighbor's phone service was dead. I told him I was pretty sure I knew what happened.

When I disconnected the long cable that was strung across my flower bed I'd also disconnected the neighbor's phone.

The good news is that the phone guy determined that three of the four cables back by that pole or laying across my flowers were unneeded. Two of the three he had a ready explanation for. The long, exposed one, fell into the mystery cable category.

The phone guy had the neighbor's service reconnected in just a few minutes.

Posted by delmer at 10:09 AM | Comments (1)

July 1, 2006

Moving

The day started simply enough. I met some buddies at 10 a.m. to help one of them move. We figured we'd be done around 1 p.m.

The original plan called for two trips to South High (to make use of a storage facility there) and a trip or two to The Condo (where the mover is moving to.)

One guy was going to have to bail at noon.

By 11:00 we were certain that we would have to make only one trip to South High. We'd gotten everything we'd needed to take there in one load. Sweet!

At noon the buddy bailed.

We made the first trip to The Condo sometime around 1 o'clock. The wife of the guy moving had already moved in. Based on her input -- that the guy moving (her hubby) owned a lot of junk that really shouldn't be moved into The Condo it was determined that we would be making a couple more trips to South High. The Office and My Garage also became staging areas for some of the stuff.

I am in no way complaining. I am simply marveling at how even a great plan (the one put together by four guys) can be made even greater by the input of a single woman.

We were finished at 7 p.m. -- and this is due more to the four guys miscalculating how much stuff there was than it was to late-in-the-day plan modifications.

Posted by delmer at 9:48 PM | Comments (1)

May 21, 2006

Someone stole my keys

Actually, I've misplaced them.

However, I read somewhere that the older we get the more likely we are to say things like, "I've lost my keys."

Younger folks say, "Who took my keys?" or "Someone stole my keys."

And there's something about adopting the who-stole-my-keys rap that keeps us younger. Or maybe it keeps us from slipping into full-blown dementia.

I don't remember the whole article. Wait ... someone stole my memory of the article.

Anyway, I think the keys are in:

A) That sweet ride of mine

or

B) A basket of laundry I brought in from that same, sweet ride.

I had the keys when I came into the house the other night. I must have, I had to unlock the door. After that I made two trips to the minivan. On one of those trips I brought in the basket of clean laundry.

I have extra keys -- obviously -- so I haven't knocked myself out looking for the lost set. But, I have been in the minivan several times since the keys came up missing. And, I have the clean basket of clothes in the put-me-away staging area at the foot of my bed. Why is it I never think to check either location the multiple times I've been in or walked by both?

Posted by delmer at 10:04 AM | Comments (0)

May 7, 2006

Cleaning, the gym and bloodwork

I cleaned out one of the rooms in the house. It had become a temporary storage place for things I moved from the apartment that I'd intended to get to right away ... but never did. In the clutter I found things like videos, DVDs, CDs, two of the final bills I'd received when I left the apartment (which cleared up how I missed paying them) and pictures of the kids.

I also found the original paperwork for my gym membership: I joined in April 27, 2000. Which means my anniversary was something like a week and a half ago. Did I get a cake from the gym? Or even a protein bar? Nope.

I also found some early blood work (you can see it all here). This one from LabCorp which uses the 241-827 ng/dl scale as the normal range for a man's testosterone level. Using this scale the lowest my testosterone hit was 29 ng/dl (using and adjustment I apply).

The best thing about the blood work I found was how easy it is to read. I always have the results faxed to me and sometimes the quality is lacking. This copy is easy enough to read that I can make out the scales for women and men across the various age groups.

And they are ...

Age	Male	Female
1 - 5 months	1 - 177	1 - 5
6 - 11 months	2 - 7	2 - 5
1 - 5 years	0 - 10	0 - 10
6 - 7 years	0 - 20	0 - 10
8 - 10 years	0 - 25	0 - 30
11 - 12 years	0 - 350	0 - 50
13 - 15 years	15 - 500	0 - 50
Adult	241 - 827	14 - 76

What does this mean? Well, for me, it clears up something I remember once saying. And that is that at one point my testosterone was lower than that of some 12-year old girls. I remembered saying it but I couldn't remember where I'd gotten the idea. And really, I guess you could say at one time my T was lower than some 10-year old girls. (And, of course, most adult women.)

With my testosterone as low as it was there is no way I'd have ever gotten such a kick-ass table in a blog entry. Thanks to Pharmacia (Pfizer), we all win.

Oh, and that room that I cleaned. The one that was temporary storage ... what will it be used for now? I suspect it will be that extra room that every house has that no one ever uses.

Posted by delmer at 12:04 AM | Comments (0)

March 13, 2006

Yesterday's Accomplishments

(As it happens, I didn't have anything too terribly interesting to say yesterday.)

When I woke up it was my intention to paint the kitchen ceiling.

Instead ...

The appliances arrived. The stove had a dent on the bottom on one side. It is the side that will be against the counters and never seen. The delivery guys told me they could bring me a new one or give me ten percent off. I took the ten percent. It would seem I purchased a model that has the expandable 6-to-9 inch burner; and a special warming burner. (The delivery guy made it a point to mention we should be careful about dropping things on non-burner areas ... it would seem the glass surface is somewhat fragile. The sales guy had not mentioned this. Not that it matters -- I was going to buy it anyway -- I just thought it was interesting that the delivery guys and sales guys might have different goals.)

Sweet, eh.

We decided we'd bring the fridge in from the garage. Before doing this, however, I thought it would be a good idea to remove the backspash from the area of the wall closest to the fridge. After two hours and two cut fingers it occurred to me that the new backsplash could have gone up over the old. Live and learn.

In between the start and end of backsplash removal the appliances showed up. After their arrival dad got busy moving a register vent as the placement of the new stove would have covered the old vent. We took a cabinet down. We puzzled over how to best match the flooring that needs to be installed due to a hole left by the removal of a ground-level cabinet.

Ohio State University basketball started at 3:30 -- that signaled the end of the Sunday workday. At the end of which, the ceiling had not been painted. The fridge had not been lugged into the house.

Posted by delmer at 12:32 PM | Comments (0)

March 11, 2006

Shopping

The time came today to round out the appliance buying.

Today I picked out an oven -- one with a convection feature as it will make by baking stuff bake faster. In the past when I wanted to cut my baking time in half I simply cranked up the heat by double. This is more of a trick than it may sound. I've been assured that a convection oven is the better way to go.

All of the ovens I looked at had flat tops with four burners. One had an expandable burner -- if you turned the knob to the right it was a six inch burner. Turn the knob to the left and it was a nine inch burner. The regular burners all went from 1 to 8 and then HI. The expandable burner when from 1 to 6 then HI each way. I told the sales guy I wanted a burner that went to 11. He gave me a look that suggested he was a little young to catch the Spinal Tap reference.

I also got a Space Saver under-the-counter microwave with an oven vent built in. I got the unit with metal racks in it so I could do two levels of microwaving. Or one level of macro-waving (with a special attachment).

When it came to a dishwasher. I picked out a Maytag with Super Quiet Feature 300 which, I assume, is 100 better than the unit with Super Quiet Feature 200. It was something like twenty dollars more.

I spent more time looking at dishwashers than ranges and microwaves put together. At one point I called my brother in Virginia and asked what dishwasher they had. He told me he had one that "tumbles." Tumbles I thought wondering how the hell something like that would work. "What?" I said.

"You know, like they have in the laundromat."

"Dishwasher. Not washing machine." I clarified.

"Oh." As it happens the new dishwasher was sold with the old house. So, I was on my own.

Everything arrives tomorrow. I get a $55.00 delivery rebate.

Posted by delmer at 11:26 PM | Comments (0)

February 26, 2006

Sunday Fill Update

OK.

So, I painted. And I had a short stroll -- about 2.5 miles.

Ahhh. The painting.

I'm painting on textured walls. They've been replastered at some point in the past but the plaster was not applied to a smooth finish. And I appear to be applying the first coat of paint.

The walls have a nice look painting them is just a lot more work -- since the surface isn't smooth I've had to spend a lot of time dabbing the brush onto the wall to make sure I get paint into every nook and cranny. And the plaster finish seems to grab at the brush; I honestly think that if I were painting over paint it might be a little bit easier. But I could be wrong.

What's all this mean? Between shopping for paint and actually painting my whole day was shot.

Oh. I forgot to mention, that I'm painting the area that goes up the stairs (ceiling and walls) which means that I've had to bring an extension ladder into the house and onto the stairs. Naturally there comes a point where the ladder can't be leaned against anything safely and at one point I had the ladder set up so that I had all my weight on one leg while the other leg was suspended in the air over the steps with my dad helping to assure I didn't lean the wrong way.

We finally modified the above by bringing a concrete block into the house and using it and a board to support the ladder leg that had been hanging loose unsupported.

I was tempted to video tape the who thing. I've noticed on America's Funniest Home videos that when someone does something stupid and what should happen does happen (that is, they take a serious fall), they don't seem to get hurt.

I got the ceiling done and I've done the cutout work for the walls. Tomorrow -- or later this week -- I'll roll the walls. I know there's a thought about painting that says you should do the cutout work piecemeal so you can roll that portion of the wall while the trim paint is still wet. I'll bet that thought doesn't involve an extension ladder and a concrete block.

Posted by delmer at 9:43 PM | Comments (3)

November 26, 2005

Recycling

First, a back update: It took me 30 minutes to get out of a chair last night. It was a recliner -- so while it was fairly comfortable to sit in, egress was a bit hard. This morning I'm sitting on a hard, high, bar stool. It hurts to sit on, but I can get up and down pretty easily

Now on with today's show. (It will be short.)

See that bathtub against the wall? It's the only tub in the photo. It weighs 300 lbs.

We needed to get the tub out. And we needed to do it without getting hurt.

I enlisted the help of Steve Blake and Nathan Hay from work to lend a hand. The work moved along well enough after I convinced dad that he could supervise just as well standing outside of the tub. (Regular readers of the blog will know that Dad would have none of just standing and watching. He was right in the mix.)

We sat the tub outside. As we moved it from the bathroom to the great outdoors we discussed whether or not we wanted a new tub or if we'd be putting the old tub back in. We quickly decided on a new, lightweight tub.

I bought everybody lunch. It came to about $20.00

I needed a truck to get the tub to the recycling center. We'd be able to sell them the tub as scrap. Cary had a truck and he, Steve, Nathan and I loaded the tub up a couple of days later. I bought the helpers lunch. It came to about $30.00 with tip.

Cary and I drove the tub to the scrap metal place. I told Cary I'd split the spoils with him.

Let's see. Three-hundred pounds, a nickel a pound. That's $15.00. I got $7.50.

Now, the project was never going to be a money-maker. It was all about recycling. And having it hauled away would have certainly cost something.

The most important part of the project was the not-getting-hurt part. Which we achieved.

Which makes this hurt-while-tying-my-shoes back thing sort of ironic.

This is the downstairs bathroom now.

Posted by delmer at 9:57 AM | Comments (4)

November 24, 2005

Doorway Update

Ectoplasmically speaking things have been sort of quiet around the house. There have been no more orbs or Buddy Ebsen sightings in the time that has passed since I've put the reciprocating saw away.

The doorway and steps have come along nicely. You may remember these original pictures.

Big D does some measuring.

I do some cutting.

The spirit of Buddy Ebsen and the orbs.

The door is gone and the space is opened up.

Here are a few new ones photos.

Big D has trimmed around the door. The new bottom landing is a couple of steps higher than the old landing and the new steps into the living room are in place.

Granny has stained the door trim. Big D has the hardwood in place on the bottom landing. The far side of the door frame needs primed and painted. We've swapped out laundry baskets

Posted by delmer at 12:06 AM | Comments (0)

November 19, 2005

Painting

Granny was at Lowes or Home Depot buying paint. The gal mixing the paint made a mistake and mixed the wrong color. Granny, being a Wells, didn't want the gal to be distressed and told her not to worry. Granny would take the miss-mixed paint. She was sure it would be fine.

Granny put the green-colored paint over the existing copper colored paint and the room looked better -- so much better. (It was funkin' out in ev-er-eee way.)

As so often happens on this blog, time passed. Just a week or so.

Granny fell out of love with the paint that was some sort of green.

I came home last night and noticed that the living room was taped off, things were covered and Big D was pushing a roller up and down the wall putting down new paint. Granny was trimming with a brush.

Big D looked around and said, "We've run out of things to do. We're starting over."

Posted by delmer at 9:01 PM | Comments (0)

November 6, 2005

Moving Update

We're all moved in though not settled.

Big D has the new stairs in and they look fabulous. If I can find the transfer cable for my camera I'll upload some new pictures.

I may buy a new dishwasher today. Do I know how to party or what?!

Oh yea. And I got a new Palm TX.

Posted by delmer at 11:01 AM | Comments (0)

November 1, 2005

A Public Apology

There was an actual apology here that apologized for something that could be interesting and fun to read. I've thought better of it as this is mostly a family-friendly blog.

So now you get an apology for the lack of the fun apology. And this:

Our Cable and Internet Hookup Arrived

Our cable and Internet connections arrived yesterday. They both came in a white panel van. The cable is, well, cable. The picture is fine. Blah blah blah who cares.

Four point five megabits. What more needs to be said.

You may now stand up and applaud. People in the first three rows should throw popcorn behind them rather than at the screen.

Posted by delmer at 4:42 AM | Comments (2)

October 30, 2005

More Moving

Would it have been too obscure to title the last entry Terms of Endearment and this post The Lou Gehrig Story?

Terms of Endearment is, of course, moving. And I believe The Lou Gehrig Story is more moving. But still, it is a pretty obscure reference. (Isn't there a scene in Terms of Endearment where the guy, maybe the guy from Dumb and Dumber, does a scene from The Lou Gehrig Story?)

People. We're still moving. Big D and I got up early -- so early that due to the daylight savings time change, we got to Mel's Diner a full hour and five minutes before they opened. We returned an hour later.

Big D and I started moving the remaining stuff from the apartment at about 7 a.m. and continued until about noon. My friend, and fellow blogger, Stevie B had come by Saturday to help with the heavy stuff (which brings to mind the question, "Where was the rest of the blogging community when I was moving?" The only one of you that has any valid excuse for missing the move is the Chief Slacker. I'll let it slide this time.)

Big D had offered to help Steve and me move the bigger things on Saturday. I explained that he was skilled labor and that the grunt work should be left to those of use who were unskilled (and a bit younger). I didn't want to get in trouble with the shop steward (Granny).

And speaking of being skilled labor: Big D has put in some very nice looking step. I'll put pictures up later -- probably later this week.

Posted by delmer at 5:12 AM | Comments (1)

October 29, 2005

Moving

The boys and I have started moving from the apartment to the Big Yellow House.

Posted by delmer at 5:11 AM | Comments (0)

October 26, 2005

Saws to the wall

How about a house update.

The floors are mostly done. They've all been sanded, the upstairs floors have been polyurethaned though the downstairs floors still need finished. It's time to move on to the next big thing. The stairs.

The current stairs are a little short and a little shallow. When they were carpeted they were treacherous. As I was taking measurements from the top to bottom landings I walked down the steps sideways and when I stopped my lower foot slipped a step. And then another and another. With each slip I was confident the next slip would be my last. After three or four slips I did a quick calculation and realized that even if I slipped all the way to the bottom landing I had the spread necessary to allow the upper foot to stay firmly planted without ripping the crotch out of my shorts.

Above you see Big D taking some measurements. The new steps will come down and out into the living room and dad is going to enlarge the door leading to the upstairs. I know what you ladies are thinking and I should probably warn you that my mom can probably kick your butt.

Big D marks a line for cutting.

My wall cutting typically consists of making small wall-plug sized holes that eventually contain Keystone jacks for network connections. This was my first experience with a reciprocating saw.

One of the reasons you never see any shots of This Old House's Norm from the waist down is that he, like I, prefers to work in his socks. It isn't a terribly good look on either one of us.

The interesting thing about this photo is that when it was taken I was alone in the room and the camera was set on auto. Imagine my surprise when I downloaded the photo and saw the orbs floating all around me and what appears to be an old man standing in the doorway.

Some of you might be thinking that the old guy looks like Big D. To that I say, well, don't all old men sort of look alike? I happen to know that when this picture was taken, Big D was in a Starbucks across town ordering a Grande Latte Cappuccino with extra creme and three sugars. I am certain that this is the ghost of Buddy Ebsen. How cool to be haunted by Uncle Jed.

Some of you might be thinking that the orbs are nothing more than plaster dust kicked up by the reciprocating saw. Especially if you knew that the orbs didn't appear until I started slicing through the plaster. But you don't know that, do you?

Some of you might think Granny took the picture. And if she had, and if you knew that, years ago, she used to chop off heads when she took pictures (we have home movies of our first day of school one year in which you see no faces -- just shirts, pants and shoes), you'd give her a big thumbs up.

Some of you might say, "Get on with it already."

The plaster is cut away leaving the door frame. The orbs and Buddy Ebsen are taking a break.

The door frame is gone leaving only the nailers. The wider and taller doorway will allow for a kinder, gentler stairway. It will also allow for a king sized bed to be taken up the stairs.

Word to the wise: The time to remember to put on a respirator is not after you start sawing.

Posted by delmer at 12:02 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

October 17, 2005

Another day sanding floors

Getting the floors prepared has taken a lot more time than I imagined. (And that's saying something -- I have quite the imagination. I have no problem bringing together Heather Locklear, Patricia Heaton, and Jamie Gertz to mid-afternoon daydreams. All at once! If I've had my vitamin E and zinc I sometimes have the Barbi Twins tag-team in one at a time.)

Today was spent sanding floors again. I mixed it up a bit and had to retrieve boys from a sleepover. Then I had to get a couple ready for soccer and one ready for football. And I attended one of the soccer games. Other than that it was sanding sanding sanding.

The floors are soooo close to being done. I keep sanding imperfections away only to reveal different imperfections. Right now I'm trying to get rid of a couple of dark areas that were caused by big area rugs. If I can get rid of those I'll be in like Flynn.

All of the paint is gone. I've quit gumming up sanding pads.

I'm going to take half a day off work tomorrow and finish things up. One way or another.

Posted by delmer at 12:02 AM | Comments (7)

October 12, 2005

The new bathroom

Sort of a big closet

The groundwork

Getting Close

Photos of the new bathroom going in upstairs.

While I was working away sanding floors Big D was busy putting a bathroom in what used to be a large closet on the second floor. He had to run some venting from the first floor and was able to make use of existing plumbing to run waste water out of the house.

As you look at the third picture you'll see that there is a shower going in on the left. The bathroom might be a little cramped, but when you consider that a week ago there were no facilities upstairs at all, we are well ahead of the game. We could have gone with a smaller shower stall but genetics suggests that the Wells children are likely to be big young men and there is nothing more frustrating than trying to shower in a too-small area (well, many things are more frustrating ... ). We decided to go with a shower large enough for and 18-year old Wells boy, but something too small for an 18-year old Wells boy and his girlfriend. I am nothing if not a responsible parent.

Big D does good work.

I wonder if he realizes the tune he's been humming is Smack My Bitch Up?

Posted by delmer at 7:42 AM | Comments (4)

October 10, 2005

Floors floors floors

Did you sing the title of this entry to the tune of Motley Crue's Girls Girls Girls. If you didn't you are missing a treat and you should really reread it.

And please, would you be so kind at to read the rest of this entry with the Stones' Bitch playing in the back of your mind.

Yea, when you call my name, I salivate like uh Pavlov's dog.

.

You take it from there ...

This morning I got up bright and early and made my way to Home Depot to rent an edge sander.

An hour later I made the same trip to buy additional 36-grit pads. At some level I must have known that I was gong to need more than three 36-grit pads, but that was all I got the first time.

The edge sander was doing a really nice job for about three feet. By then the sanding pad was so clogged with paint that it was sticking to the floor rather than smoothly gliding over it. The edger pads can't be declogged like the drum-sander pads so I spent a lot of time changing pads.

I finally figured out that if I was willing to wrestle with the sander a bit I could make the pads last longer. This wasn't about pad cost -- this was about the hassle of pad changing. With the sanding disk clogged it would still take the paint off -- in a herky-jerky fashion -- though it didn't seem to be taking any of the surface off the floor. This was a good thing as it took some of the pressure off of keeping the sander moving in a precise manner.

At 12:30 I gave up sanding to attend a football and soccer game. My football player lost and my soccer player won. The weather was perfect football weather -- the air was cool and crisp with the smell of whatever that smell is that comes around every fall. It seemed a little cold for soccer.

After all the games were over my footballer and one of my soccer players came over in the middle of an argument.

"Isn't football a more popular sport than soccer?" the footballer demanded.

"I'm certain it is," said I, "but that may be because they call soccer football just about everywhere else but the United States."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know that's not what you mean, but that's as far as I'm willing to get involved."

And really, when it comes to kid's sports, the most important thing to appreciate is that none of my kids are in T-Ball any longer ... or, and this is even worse (as a rule), Kid-Pitch Baseball. KPBB games could go forever with nothing more happening than batter after batter getting beaned by the ball.

After football and soccer I went to work and requested tomorrow off. I was back on the sander at 6 p.m. and finished up all the paint removal.

Tomorrow I should get that room done and move on to the first floor's floors (floors ... at the Dollhouse in Fort Lauderdale ...)

Posted by delmer at 12:32 AM | Comments (0)

October 8, 2005

Sanding the Floors

A house update:

Yesterday I had the furnace inspected and serviced and was happy to report to my mother that it looked like she and dad would be safe -- the furnace is not leaking carbon monoxide into the house and is unlikely to kill them

Mom told me that if the furnace did kill them that I should not worry about it. She and dad are ready to go. She went on to day that she'll do all she can to finish helping with the home rehab before crossing over to the other side.

Is she a Trophy Mom or what!

The furnace was serviced by Ohio State Heating and Cooling (Leap Road in Hilliard, Ohio. 614-771-0726) . Give them a call when the time for your annual furnace servicing rolls around. You may need to bring the furnace to the Columbus metropolitan area. Ah, what the hell -- bring it by my place; the guys at Ohio State Heating and Cooling know where I live and we can sip margaritas while the furnace gets serviced.

This morning I went to Home Depot and rented a drum sander as I have three floors that need some attention.

I started sanding floors -- um, floor -- at 11 a.m. ... maybe 11:30 ... and stayed on task until about 7:45. I took a break for dinner at 5 p.m. So, it was about eight hours of sanding.

The floor had a couple coats of paint on it and some lacquer. As the floors are wicked old there has been some settling, bowing, and cupping of the floorboards. It isn't anything that bothers me -- I think it adds some character to the floors -- but it does make sanding more of a challenge.

The drum sander is pretty easy to use. The problem I'm having is with the aforementioned cupping of the floorboards. The sanding drum doesn't always make contact with the whole board and floats over the valley formed by the cupping. This has resulted in a lot of hand sanding, which has resulted in spending a lot of extra time on the project.

There are other imperfections as well. Some boards are higher than their neighbors. There have been a nail or two I missed -- hidden under a coat or two of paint --and those are hard on the sand paper.

The lacquer, or whatever it was, sticks to the sandpaper and gums it up. I figured out early on that if I let the drum sit for a few minuted the gumminess hardens and if I remove the sandpaper I can bend it a bit and the lacquer crumbles off. Some additional scraping is needed, but it isn't too bad.

The upside to the process is that the floor I'm working on looks really good.

About halfway through sanding the paint of it came to me that there is a pretty good chance that the paint is lead based. I had both windows open and was getting a good breeze and I was wearing a face mask. Hopefully I won't have lead-poisoning induced madness.

I should have the bedroom finished tomorrow and the other two floors don't look as bad. Maybe I'll make better progress with them.

Posted by delmer at 9:31 PM | Comments (0)

October 2, 2005

Birds in the Belfry

The Yellow House sits on the corner of Madison Street and an alley. Across from the alley is the Masonic Lodge.

The lodge sits on a fairly big lot which was mowed Saturday.

Saturday night the boys were playing in the garage while mom and I sat on the back porch. All of a sudden we noticed a bunch of birds flying around the lodge lot and just the lot. It seemed that they were eating bugs that might have been kicked up during the mowing.

It reminded me of something that happened several years ago. I was mowing our yard, kicking up some bugs, and a bunch of birds started flying around me. They were so close and reckless -- drunk on bug juice -- that I kept waiting for one to smack me in the head. Our backyard abutted the park and a couple of the neighbors yards. There were acres and acres that these birds could have been flying over, but they were just around me. I was like the Bird Whisperer.

The birds in question were not the normal, everyday birds I'd see in the neighborhood.

The next day, at a baseball game, I overheard some parents talking about a bunch of birds that came out of nowhere and laid waste to some dragonflies. Shortly after that I was at one of the metro parks, with the Cub Scouts, and had a chance to talk to a ranger. I described the birds to him and he told me they sounded like something I can't remember that happened to be migrating.

So, I thought that the birds we saw Saturday might be the same birds. Not the exact same birds you understand -- those birds have probably all been taken out by windshields, jet engine intakes, and Tom Delay (who possesses the ability to simply snatch life out of the living) -- but birds from the same family.

That is, until we thought they might be bats.

The birds or bats were flying around in a big circle and would dive at the roof line of the lodge before rising again. They looked like birds. They were flying around in a flock like birds do. Still.

The boys thought they might be bats. And even though the birds made many many passes over our heads, none of them bothered to poop on us, which is very un-bird like. But do bats flock and fly around in an organized circle? I don't know.

We kept watching the birds. They finally got tired of eating bugs and flew down the lodge chimney.

I suppose they could have been Chimney Swifts.

I'll do some more checking tomorrow.

According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology:

Large flocks gather in the fall and roost in chimneys, sometimes by the hundreds or even thousands. The majority departs the breeding grounds in late August or September to begin the long migration south.

Posted by delmer at 12:01 AM | Comments (0)

September 28, 2005

The Water Guy

The water guy came by today and took a reading. The water is now in my name. The bathroom wall has been fixed and new fixtures installed. Backerboard has been purchased as has new insulation and replacement tile. The wall should be whole tomorrow.

I yanked all the carpet up yesterday; there wasn't all that much. The picture on this page is the only shot that I took and it doesn't really give the best feel for the use the carpet had seen. The floor underneath has some paint on it but nothing I don't think will come up with a big sander.

Weeds were sprayed with spectracide yesterday and are well on their way to dying. There are a couple of weeds that have bases thick enough and are rooted deep enough that they don't easily pull out of the ground. One weed is about five feet tall. You'd think that the renter would have noticed some of these before they got waist high.

Posted by delmer at 10:08 PM | Comments (0)

September 27, 2005

The Work Begins

Mom and Dad started their day, and then finished it, at The Big Yellow House. Dad got busy tearing the wall out of the bathroom while mom started removing wallpaper from the utility room.

Water had gotten behind the back wall and had gone to work on the drywall. Dad tore the wall out and is going to replace it with backerboard.

There was a leak in the plumbing so dad removed the tile around the fixtures. When the plumbing was installed a board was put in to keep the pipes from moving from side to side. Nothing was put in to keep the pipes from moving back and forth. And, on the board put in to prevent side-to-side movement there was a nail that had not been driven in all the way. Over time the nail head wore a hole in the cold-water pipe due to the back and forth movement of the pipe. Well, at least it will be easy to fix. And really, if you have to rip out one wall you may as well rip out several. My boys will back me up on that.

I showed up around 5:30 and started tearing up carpet. There isn't all that much so it wasn't a horrible job. It was still plenty dusty.

Posted by delmer at 10:56 PM | Comments (0)

September 26, 2005

Prickley Pairs

As I mentioned earlier I closed on the house this past Friday.

I swung by yesterday to do a very small amount of yard work and seem to have got involved with some sort of weed that has microscopic sliver thorns. I don't seem to have a rash of any sort, but I do have some skin irritation and a feeling that I've got something prickley on me. I've showered three times since the encountering the weed and still feel pricked. I looked this up in a medical book I have and the closest I could come to a diagnosis was Traci Lords syndrome. I hope to feel cleaner tomorrow.

Mom and dad came up today and brought with them a side-by-side refrigerator they'd won on Let's Make a Deal. There was still a box or two of Rice-a-Roni in the vegetable crisper and an autographed picture of Carol Merrill was stuck to the door with a "Say No to Drugs" magnet.

Maybe the fridge was one that belonged to my aunt and uncle. In any case, in keeping with the tradition I started when we moved to Mt. Sterling, it looks like the fridge might be just a hair to big to fit in the hole its supposed to go in. We're talking less than an inch too big. It was also too big -- the same less than an inch -- to get in the back door without having to disassemble something. The fridge is now in the garage keeping a 12-pack of beer cool.

I had asked the previous owner to leave a chest freezer of questionable workability. After taking a better look it was decided to drag it to the curb. Food had sat in it uncooled for an extended period of time and bugs were forming. It had a wicked bad smell too, and given the amount of other work we have to do it just didn't seem like a good investment of our time to see if it was going to be usable. As I hauled it to the curb it fell off the two-wheeled truck and crashed to the ground (I failed to navigate an uneven sidewalk well). It was not exactly America's-Funniest-Home-Videos funny, but funny enough considering there was no shot to a crotch involved.

Dad and I removed a door and planed the bottom a bit to keep it from dragging against the floor and scarring it. Mom did some cleaning. We all took some measurements. I'm a 44 tall.

After lifting, cleaning and looking we went to Oties for dinner.

Posted by delmer at 10:12 PM | Comments (0)