Gator Bait

Still waiting to hear something on the Taj MaHell, so in the meantime, we're just staying busy with other things.

Since Tank is obsessed with all things "Swamp People," we took him out to a restaurant near where we live, where they have live alligators. 

*Not a live gator.  We suck as parents, but not quite that bad.

He was so excited, he was literally shaking head to toe!  If he could have talked, he'd have been going a mile a minute!  For a couple of dollars, you can feed the gators.  Here's a video of Tank and Daddy feeding the alligators.

A good time was had by all...at least until it was time to leave.  A broken-hearted Tank sobbed bitterly at leaving his new friends.  Guess we'll be going back again soon!

Pass the Fat Pants, Please

The other day I was craving some chips and dip.  We didn't have anything in the house that met the chip-n-dip criteria, so I resisted.  But another day passed and I was still dreaming of a delectable, dippy snack.

Wouldn't you know it, the toilet paper supply got dangerously low and I had to make a Kroger run.  And there, in the dairy aisle, was tub after tub of French Onion dip.  And the Kroger brand wavy chips were 10 for $10.  My hand hovered above the regular dip but I managed to move over to the low-fat dip.  I HATE the way the low-fat kind gets that oily water on top after a day or so, but I was trying to be responsible in my snacking.

I came home and resisted for the longest four minutes of my life and then I dove in.  Later that night, I snacked some more in front of a Braves game.  The next day, I ate some more.  The day after that, I scraped the bottom of the 4-ounce container with a chip and thought, "Well, at least it was the fat free kind."

Only it WASN'T.

Oh, snap.

Inching Towards Organization

Tuesday morning and I should be getting ready for the part-time job that actually requires my presence.  I looked in the closet and the thought of having to find something to wear.  And do something with my hair.  And then get Tank up and dressed because he goes to work with me....

It just all seemed too much, so I plopped down in front of the computer instead.

No updates on the Taj MaHell as of yet.  I had hoped that we'd hear something yesterday, but I guess we won't be updated during the process at all.  One day (soon, I hope), we'll just get an email telling us when/where the closing will be.  We'll close by mail, but you can do an actual face-to-face closing if you want.

In the meantime, I've been poring over paint swatches and reading product reviews, making lists, making more lists, losing the lists I made and happily starting over because I love lists!  One thing I did learn is that no one makes a paint you can put on an old stove, so we're stuck with the apparently functional, butt-ugly one at the Taj.  The cheapest 40-inch stove on the market is pushing up on $800, and that is just not in the budget until the old one keels over.

So, what's a girl to do when she's anxious to sink her teeth into a new project but there's nothing to do?  Me, I'm going on a purging rampage!  I'm going through the Gilligan's Island house, tossing anything that is no longer useful or that I never wear, etc.  I'm streamlining and simplifying my drawers, closets, cabinets and bookshelves.  I'll do the same thing at Uncle Todd's Cabin (our current Mayberry address) in preparation for the big move to the Taj one of these days.

There's a lot to go through.

In the past, I've made the mistake of just boxing stuff up and moving it place to place, without seriously evaluating each and every item.  Because, really, who has the time?  But then I end up with boxes that stay packed for 2 or 3 years before I load them up again and move them to a new place.  I counted once; I had moved 15 times in a 22 year period.  Granted, some of those were dorm room moves, which is not the same thing at all as packing up a house, but still.  A move's a move. 

I know that Uncle Todd's Cabin is currently home to several unpacked boxes of crap.  These "treasures" are so important that they couldn't be donated to Goodwill or given to a friend who'd appreciate them and yet they're not important enough that I ever bothered to open the box they were in.  Silly. 

I do have a box with some of my mother's things in it, just crazy little things that only I would want.  One of her many housecoats, a bottle of the perfume she loved, hand-written grocery lists because I simply cannot live if I know I'll never see her handwriting again.  Boxes like that, well, I see no harm in keeping and moving town to town.

But the boxes of old pots and pans, curtains from three houses ago, fridge magnets, throw pillows...you get the idea...those need to go.

I have a friend here at The Gilligan who struggles with what I'd assume is a mild to moderate hoarding tendency.  She asked me to help her clean out a room and I gladly agreed.  After a couple of hours of sorting items with her, I really came to see the painful battle she was waging against her stuff.  EVERY thing in that room was important or useful, at least to her.  EVERY piece of paper her kids had ever colored on was there, along with yards and yards of fabric for projects, photos of the family, knick-knacks from her family's military life overseas.  All of these things did have either monetary or sentimental value, but because she assigned value to ALL of it, NONE of it ended up being valued.  Because it all mattered so much that she couldn't part with it, it got piled up, then the piles fell over or got wet or dirty or the papers got torn.  So many of the precious items she has so ferociously refused to let go of were...ruined.  She has been, in other words, loving her possessions to death.

I think one reason my friend has difficulty letting go of things is that they're not wealthy.  Sometimes, we hold on to items because they represent security.  I remember in my own hoard-prone days, I accrued and kept things that were largely useless to me, because a wealth of "stuff" made me feel less broke.  ("How can I possibly be poor?  I have eight cookie sheets!")

Another reason we hold on to things is the money they represent.  I am very guilty of buying clothes without trying them on.  When I get home and they don't fit, I set them aside thinking I will just run back to the store in the next couple of days and exchange them.  And then a month goes by.  Then two months.  And then the store won't take them back.  I used to keep the clothes, out of guilt for having wasted money on them.  Keeping them with the tags dangling in my closet was a reminder of my stupidity and wastefulness.  And they were perfectly good clothes that had cost perfectly good money. And who doesn't enjoy a good dose of self-loathing every time they open the closet door?  

Now, though, I'm making a real effort to be a more aware shopper.  To try on clothes or at least really look them over before buying, to see if there are any fit or comfort issues that I can see at the outset.  But when I mess up....and I will mess up!...I am really going to try to return them quickly and failing that, donate them with a happy heart to a charity.

Because, even if I don't always realize it, I am richly blessed.  I have enough.  And I am willing to let go of some of the extra.

No News Is....No News

Friday again and I am recuperating from four hours in the dentist's chair late yesterday.  SEVEN shots of novocaine and then she gave me an 800mg Motrin for the trip home.  I'm not going into further detail because really, four hours under the dentist's sadistic hands says it all.  I mean, DAMN.  Luckily I had some leftover margarita mix, so I was able to self-medicate last night.  Half my mouth was numb, though, so I had to drink it through a straw and even that was a challenge, because I couldn't seem to pucker that side of my lips.  I hope to God I never have a stroke, because it would clearly hinder the liquor-delivery system.  And I am guessing that I will be the sort of old person that the people who run the "home" would WANT to be liquored up.

 On to the Taj:

It seems nothing happened at all this week, in terms of the Taj moving closer to being ours.  We'd received a contact at the closing agency, so after 3 days went by, I called her and left a voice mail.  The next day, I emailed her.  Then I called again two days later, but her voice mailbox was full.  Long story short, we finally got hold of a different person at the agency, thanks to the auction site representative.  The closing peeps are waiting on an updated title on the property, a water bill, the tax bill* and a re-key, which the real estate agency is handling.  The other items were noted as "requested--pending," so hopefully they will not hold us up too much.  (*Quick note:  we missed a ton of things we should have checked on with this purchase, but I am proud that we didn't forget to check with the local tax assessor's office to make sure that the taxes were paid up.  They were.  I'm not sure how it works, if the buyer would be responsible for any outstanding taxes, but it stands to reason that it could happen.  Just another thing to check before you commit!)

While I've been twiddling my thumbs and waiting for news, I have been looking over the photos we took of the Taj MaHell and getting some projects thought out.  Initially, we're going to have to shell out some money to professionals (roof, electrical), so I am only looking into relatively cheap, DIY projects that I can do alone.  Shawn may work weekends this summer to make extra money, so I could manage smaller projects like paint and yard work...both of which would make a huge improvement. 

Anyhoobastank, Shawn saw an ad in my Southern Living magazine (he reads it in the bathroom.  I know...I don't even want to think about that) for Rustoleum's Cabinet and Countertop Transformations.   Link to their website here:    http://www.rustoleumtransformations.com/ 

I read some reviews and this stuff actually seems to work as advertised.  I plan to definitely do the countertops and am thinking about the cabinets.  My only hesitation is that the cabinets are cheap knotty pine and have flat slabs for doors.   We were talking about just painting them gloss white and adding fun hardware...and just pretending that these cabinets are EXACTLY what we wanted.   This Rustoleum product shows the wood grain, which on these cabinets would not be a plus.  I'd like to either add molding/trim to beef up the doors and make them look less shitty outdated or just get all new doors and drawer fronts.  So, I'm not sure if I'll do the cabinets yet or just wait a while.  Either way, I'll give this new stuff a try and let you know how it goes.  I am cautiously optimistic, because I used a tub and tile refinisher at Uncle Todd's Cabin and was pleasantly surprised with the results.  It was one of those, "Well, it'll either look slightly less bad or I'll screw it up royally and have to gut the whole room" type deals and I have to say, the stuff covered the tile beautifully and seems to be holding up really well.  Maybe the same will be true of these crazy painted counter tops!

Off to make more lists.....

Memorial Day

I don't have anything powerful or witty to say about Memorial Day.  I wanted to post a video of the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington.  When I searched online, I found several videos made by tourists of this incredibly moving ceremony.  But I also found videos of the guards having to reprimand idiotic people laughing during what should be a solemn service.  One asshole even jumped the barrier and had to be dealt with.  I wanted to find a video that would honor and celebrate our fallen soldiers, but I ended up watching videos that made me want to punch people in the face.

So, here's a link to an old Fox News story on the guards at the Tomb.  It's well worth a few minutes of your life.  The life you owe in some way or another to the soldiers some jackasses would mock.

The American military.  Respect it or get the hell away from me.

You know I wish that I had Jessie's saw

Today, I did something completely out of the ordinary for me.  I went shopping.  On a Saturday.  When other people shop.  People whose hygiene and child-rearing habits may significantly differ from my own.  It was scary.

Only a few things can lure me toward the mall on a Saturday.  A big, blinking neon sign that says, "Free Beer" being one of them.  Maybe a Rick Springfield sighting.  And DEFINITELY a big sale on tools at Sears.  I love me some tools!  I've acquired a few here and there, when I first moved out on my own and later when I dipped my toe into doing a cosmetic remodel.  I'm kind of a tool nerd and like anything else, it's so exciting when you're just getting started that you can't resist the chance to add to your collection.

So, today Tank, Shawn and I were all over Sears.  I had found a circular saw online and there was a Memorial Day sale going on that ended today, so I was planning to just buy it and have it shipped to the house.  I mentioned it to Shawn, whose head exploded at the thought of just BUYING something!  Without the RESEARCH!  The COMPARISONS!  The SLEEPLESS NIGHTS IN FRONT OF THE COMPUTER READING REVIEWS!  Oh, the humanity!

So, I griped and whined, but eventually emptied my inbox at Sears.com, cleaned up Shawn's brains and agreed to go today to look at these wonders in person.  We'd decided that a circular saw met our needs best, because let's be honest, neither one of us is going to turn into Handy Manny any time soon and a table saw just didn't seem necessary.  We'll mostly be cutting trim pieces, maybe some plywood for subfloor and concrete backer board.  It made sense to buy a good, middle of the road circular saw for this point in the game. 

We wandered into Sears and Shawn accosted an employee and started playing 20 Questions, Circular Saw Edition.  After twenty minutes (which I spent chasing a hyped-up Tank through the tool section, the garden section and the home gym section--big shout-out to the very nice man we almost knocked over--he was ready to buy........(wait for it)......the same saw I was ready to buy the night before.  I will admit--grudgingly--that he saved us just over $15.00 by getting it from the store and not paying shipping.  And I will also admit--grudgingly--that going to the store enabled me to find a clearanced Shop Vac for $38.00, down from its original $99.99 price tag.  So, we got the saw for $67.99 (had been $79.99) and the Shop Vac, both of which will be great for the Taj projects to come.

We also heard from Roofer C today, who gave us an estimate of $3915 to tear off the old roof, replace some plywood decking and use Rubberoid coating on the flat roof.  He didn't bid doing the same amount of work as Roofer A, but he is definitely cheaper, doing a side by side comparison.  We have a personal reference for Roofer C (of course we do...it's Mayberry!), so as of now, he is looking like the front runner.  We'll talk to him about adding in ridge vents and checking the motors on the existing exhaust fans, which is really the only difference between his bid and the $6980 bid from Roofer A, since the Weather Watch and shingles on the flat roof aren't a big deal to us.  Even standing at the highest point behind the house, you can't see the flat roof, so as long as it doesn't leak, I'm not all that concerned with how pretty it looks.

So, we're inching closer to our closing date, we've bought the first of many tools for this job and I'm completely, insanely ready to get started!

It was bound to happen

Well, we haven't even closed on the Taj yet, but we hit the first snag today.  That's no surprise...there are going to be many "Oh shit" moments during this process and I wasn't fool enough to think we'd emerge unscathed.

Today, I made a call to the Greater Mayberry city services number to ask about getting electrical service on and in our names.  What I wanted to know was how much of a deposit we'd need to pay.  What I did NOT want to know was that the house has to be inspected and any issues found with the electrical need to be brought up to code before permanent service can be started.

I am sure there's a list of things that have to be done to the house to bring it up to code.  When I think about how much this is going to cost, I throw up.  Just a little bit.  In the back of my mouth.

On the positive side, we are relieved to be dealing with Mayberries and not the ridiculously officious bureaucrats we tend to encounter here where I am being held prisoner delighted to live.  The woman at the city services offices did not know me from Adam's housecat, but was thrilled to hear that the Taj had been purchased and would be fixed up.  I also accidentally called the wrong number to ask about trash pickup and was on the phone for a good fifteen minutes with a very informative and friendly lady who answered every question I had, even though I'd called the county trash number instead of the city one.*  Down here, I would have been transferred as fast as three-inch fingernails could have punched the extension and promptly forgotten.  (*Note: they are actually the same company, but the city handles its own residents on behalf of the company, while the company itself manages the county residents.  Lest you think there are actually TWO trash companies in Mayberry)

Does it sound like I am being condescending toward the 'Berry?  I truly hope not.  There's a reason we're gambling a lot of money on a reno to salvage a house we'll likely only see thirty days out of any given year.  I can't put it into words exactly, but here's a story that sort of explains...

My sister the Farm Maven told me yesterday that her husband, the fabulous David, had ridden up on an elderly man who'd run his truck into a ditch near their house.  The man was shaken but unhurt and mostly concerned about getting a tow truck to pull him out of the deep ditch.  David went back to the house, got a chain and pulled the fellow out without further ado.  That's how it's done in the country.  The first truck to pass that elderly gentleman wasn't a thief or a killer; he was a hard-working man who needed to get home to supper but who probably never thought about just driving past a stranger in need.

We've got theaters down here, the ocean, appallingly expensive schools and the finest food you'll ever pay a crapload of money to eat.  I wouldn't stop to think, though, if the opportunity came to shuck it all and head back to Mayberry.  I'd just pack up and go.  And hope if the Jeep broke down, it'd be on a back road traveled by hard-working men headed home to supper.