We are on a temporary (I hope) hiatus from this project as FMP is distressed at the amount of stuff I have found and brought home. So, I am looking for a place to store the materials. Maybe, I can find a conservation group who would like to sponsor the free house project to make a point. When I find a place to keep it all, I will let you know.
TSG
FMP has declared that, if I am going to pursue this, I must get rid of other things that we have in the house from previous adventures. I intend to make this so.
Yesterday’s material:
Seventy-one flat and forty-three curved edging red brick tiles 6″ square-from a field near a recently completed restaurant and suitable for an entry hall.
TSG
I am always fussing at FMP about the amount of material that is wasted in construction. Last Saturday, I found that it is also wasted in destruction. I stopped by a former storage facility that is being bulldozed. Everything is being swept into huge piles and then discarded. Some of the units were still standing and I found usable things in them. This gave me an idea.
I have bet FMP that I can find enough material in five years to build us a house. If I win, he buys land and we make plans. If I lose, the whole shebang goes to Habitat for Humanity. Either way, someone is getting a new house.
I am starting with the following:
Five porch pillars-The bottom 3-4 inches are rotten, so one of our clients had to replace them. They are still tall enough to support a porch of average height.
Three opaque glass 5’x3′ windows-Found at the demolition site and of the kind placed above garden tubs.
Linoleum tiles-Found at the demolition site and enough to floor a laundry room (dimensions to follow).
Found includes, obviously, anything on the side of the road, in the trash, etc. It also includes what I deem usable off-cuts from FMP’s cabinetry adventures, anything I am given free (but not if someone bought it for the express purpose of helping me win) and anything I win in a contest. Also, if I find anything that is saleable, but not useful for a house, I may sell it and put aside the money for anything I don’t find. Appliances and HVAC are not included in the challenge.
Oddly, even my brother-in-law, who sometimes thinks I have lost my mind, believes this can be done. FMP would like to point out that he has not yet agreed officially to the bet. I would like to point out that he has had a week to say, “No!”. I realize that some people may feel this old-fashioned, but if FMP says I can’t, then this entire project will come to a screeching halt. Someone has to be in final charge and FMP is it.
TSG
Friday, I went to the doctor for a regular check-up. Considering the stress I have been under and my tendency to eat in those circumstances, I felt like I had gained weight. Imagine my happy surprise to find that I had actually lost four pounds. Doing the happy dance, now!
Irvin Shrewsbury Cobb wrote a column for the Paducah Daily News. This book is a series of his writings on the human anatomy with its trials and tribulations. Amazingly, the issues raised here are still relevant and funny one hundred years later. A fun read for a rainy afternoon, this book can be accessed here: http://librivox.org/cobbs-anatomy-by-irvin-shrewsbury-cobb/
TSG
In the sixties, when I was born, most men wanted a son first to carry on the family name. My father just wanted a child. The fact that his first-born was a girl didn’t faze him at all. He was delighted. He was every bit as delighted when my two sisters followed me in the next four years. It was not until six years afterwards that a boy was born.
My father taught me that I could do anything that I determined to do. He never met my suggestions, no matter how wild, with scorn. Instead, he provided me with the tools and taught me the skills necessary and then let me go. Now, when someone tells me that something can’t be done, I tell them to get out of the way.
When I was ten, I decided that the tall cylinders my mother’s hose came in would make great pencil holders if I could just melt the top to make a hole. My father got a small blowtorch and taught me how to use it. When I had the hang of it, he left me outside with instructions not to point it at my sisters or the house. At the time, I was so proud that I could handle something dangerous all by myself. Now, of course, I know that my dad was nearby watching just in case. The pencil holders were a great hit as Christmas presents for grandparents, aunts and uncles. This was my first experience in learning that homemade gifts are the best.
Today, my sisters and I all work in education. We help others reach their goals, even if they seem difficult or impossible. People who have never met my father are benefiting from what he taught us. My brother is a lawyer. We tell him that three sisters were excellent trainers in arguing.
Thanks for everything, Dad! I love you!
TSG
After all the help we had from work, my family, etc. when IRP was ill, we did not feel we could ask for more when the compressor on our central air went out. So, with the help of a cool streak in May, we have been making do with fans and open windows.
Fortunately, FMP, who is currently in charge of the budget, has solved our dilemma. By industry and thrift (two almost forgotten words), he has saved enough extra to buy window units for our room, CPI’s room and the living room. I have just gotten up from a lovely nap in our cool room.
Thank you, FMP, for your hard work for our family! I love you!
TSG
PS–Mom and Dad, if you are reading this, we appreciate everything you have done for us. We just could not, in good conscious, ask for anything else.
When I graduated high school, my mother began the tradition of taking the graduate out for dinner with four of his/her friends to the restaurant s/he chooses. CPI chose P.F. Chang’s. We had so much fun that it was almost illegal. One of CPI’s friends has mistaken the day and had to be lured away from another graduation party. We ate huge amounts of delicious food and topped it off with dessert. In all, we spent two hours. My mother and I paid and got the leftovers together and waited for there to be a break in the fun. After twenty minutes, we stood, gathered our things and edged towards the door. Realizing that we were alone, we turned back to discover the “children” absorbed in conversation and laughter. Finally, I said, “CPI, we are leaving”. Everyone looked at us in shock.
Here is a picture of, from the left: L, M, H, CPI (in the suit) and G. Don’t they look pretty/handsome and happy?! I think so.
TSG
Yesterday, CPI graduated from high school. This marks the end of an era for us. We now no longer have any children who are not full adults. This is a little sad, for I greatly enjoyed the years in which I stayed at home and cared for played with the children. We had many great adventures and a few (now) laughable disasters:
1. One year, IRP received for Christmas a kit of beads to arrange into artistic patterns and then iron together. She left one of her projects on the table. The two-year-old CPI decided that one of the beads would look most artistic up his nose. Accordingly, he placed it there and then PANICKED! It is 4:45 on a Friday and I am trying to remove a bead from the nose of a panicked toddler. I say to him, “Blow your nose, baby!”. He inhales sharply. “No, no, stop!” I look up CPI’s nose to determine the position of the bead (I know, I should have started here). It is visible and I think I can get it. I cannot. RTA (10) and IRP (6) look up CPI’S nose and begin to argue; RTA, “It’s blue”. IRP, “There are no blue ones in the kit. It is black”. You must imagine this argument as a backdrop to all that now ensues. I begin looking around for something smaller than my finger. I find a bread tie. I make this into a hook and proceed to carefully thread it up CPI’s nose in an attempt to get the bead. I cannot. It is now 4:55. I call the doctor and plead with him to stay open until I get there. Everyone piles into the car. CPI is now screaming AND crying. The argument still rages. It continues while we drive to the doctor’s office, check in and go to an examining room. There is NO way I am leaving RTA and IRP alone in the waiting room. It takes two nurses and me to hold CPI down while the doctor removes the bead with a long pair of slanted tweezers. IRP triumphantly remarks, “I told you it was black!”. We all go out for sodas. Except for CPI. He gets the “Brave Child Award” of a small shake. He consumes very little of it and then falls asleep, exhausted from his adventure.
2. TSG decides that it is a good day to go to the zoo. FMP remarks that it is supposed to rain at about 10:00. TSG assures him that, if we get there at 8:00, we will be long gone by the time the rain comes. Guess who is right? Yes, FMP. We are at the back of the zoo in the children’s area when it begins to pour. This area is about half a mile from the front of the zoo. We decide to wait it out. It is still pouring thirty minutes later when we decide to make a run for it. We are soaked before we go ten feet. There is now no point in trying to wait for anything. We stop near the entrance to the zoo and go into the Bird House to warm up. TSG almost ends her skating careen across the floor by falling, but is saved by the 16-year-old RTA. It is warmer in the bird house and the birds are very entertaining. Now, back to our flight. We have another half mile to reach the car since everyone else had the same idea we did (except they brought umbrellas). We reach the car literally streaming with water and begin a desperate search for something to dry off with. I cannot drive as water is pouring down my face from my long hair. RTA braves the weather once more to search the trunk. Nothing. About six months before, I had had abdominal surgery. Under one of the seats, far back, we find the girdle I wore to support my stomach as it healed. I had not put it back on after my last doctor’s visit and had forgotten to take it in. This is the only dry thing in the car. So, I dry my face and the younger children do, too. RTA resists. Finally, he says in disgust, “At least this isn’t our side of town and none of my friends will see me!”. We now refer to this as “Swimming at the Zoo”.
Hopefully, our new chapter will include more fun and adventure. Much love to all my lovely children!
TSG
This week, we began the summer work schedule at the college. This means no late days for the duration. We work nine hours Monday-Thursday and then take Friday off. Each of the full-time workers takes a Friday/Saturday and works while everyone else is off. Then, the following week, the one who worked takes Thursday off as well. Thus, the books are balanced and everyone is happy. We love summer!
In the Ensuing Panic 
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