How to summarize the last few weeks? TWO 44 page reports, a website launch, site updates, non-paying clients, lots of gardening, laundry, and dishes. Oh, and the living room. I could go on and on, as you know, about all these distractions, but that’s not why we are here. Well, it’s not why you are here. You lucky bastards.

I’d love to tell you the dining room is done (it isn’t) or that the den is done (ditto) but the living room IS done – except for a few throw pillows that haven’t arrived and artwork, yet to be determined. And I still want a new front door. But I’m not waiting for those things, so you will just have to use your imagination. I really just spent the last few weeks working and waiting for things to be delivered. I painted trim and accessories and spent about a million hours deciding on a clock and pillows. I seem to have developed a case of sudden onset ADD (no hyper-activity tho, I could really use that). I can’t keep with one thing without getting distracted. Plus, I can’t seem to make any decisions. It’s true. My usual focused decisive brain (stop laughing, I’m serious) has apparently followed my memory and positive attitude out the door. I wonder where they went. Canada, maybe. Good heath care, fewer republicans, more moose.

But in my quest for the perfect clock – I went to my favorite “artisan” website Etsy.com. Check it out – photos, pottery, knitting, lighting and clocks of course. All created by below, above or just plain average Joe’s. So I got my groovy clock (bonus: clockmaker minneapolian) and I came across the coolest frames. Now, I should preface this by saying I do this a lot. I see something on t.v. or online or in a magazine and I think…I could do that! And off I go. So I’m walking out the backdoor and Ben asks “What’s with the crowbar?” I replied “I’m gettin crafty!” It should be noted here that the words that used to throw my poor beleaguered husband into a panic were “I’m late,” now the words that frighten him to the core are “I’m gettin crafty!” Followed closely by, “I was thinking…” But off I went to the garage to tear about two wood pallets that I had saved from previous deliveries. This is another thing I do. I save shit. Not in a hoarders kind of way…well kind of like that…but I like to think of it as artistic process. Ha. I got both of these pallets in the same week, and I thought you could use these for something. I was thinking twin bed headboards. Even though I don’t have twin beds. Huh.

I’d say about 25% of my craft projects turn out. 25% I pretend I like for about a week and the other 50% end up in the trash, where they rightfully belong, but not before I’ve spent hours trying to make them work. I am my father’s daughter. I don’t quit until completely and utterly beaten. And even then, not willingly. Anyway. This time it worked. The backs are the pallet planks, the “mat” is a piece of laminated plywood. The art goes in the middle (I put in a sample) and the then you put a piece of plexiglass over the mat and art with exposed screws. (see imagination). I’m pretty happy with the outcome.

the After…because it’s taken me so long to finish this room, I would imagine most of you don’t remember the Before. See blog “what do to” – Dated (God help me) January 30, 2012. Obama is still the President right?

I hate to do the budget and timeline. You’ve NO IDEA how much I hate to list the budget. But here is the deal. OK, here is the excuse…the timeline was based on two factors, the amount I WAS working at the time and the date of Ashley’s wedding. I wanted to be sure I was done to focus on her. Which, let’s be honest, is exactly what she wants and, by coincidence, exactly what she deserves. But she is, if nothing else, super organized (I may not be her mother) so I have some wiggle room there. I had not anticipated the new client who is keeping me hopping. Which comes to the budget, which I blew already. Making more money means I should be able to spend more money, yes? I mean come on my brain may be in Canada, but I’m still an American! And that’s how we roll. To that end I spent about $4000 on the living room and I’m embarrassed. I feel like such a consumer whore with an eco footprint the size of Sasquatch. I’m shamed and guilty. (note: a few things are repurposed – the table is made of old grocery crates from my great-grandparents, the bench and ottoman I had already, the bookcase is a hand me down and the frames, of course)

I’m hosting a baby shower on the 3rd of June so the pressure is on to get the dining room and den done by then. It’s going to be an ugly 14 days. Donations are being accepted.

I may have to adopt a new motto. “Better living through Chemistry”

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I told my best friend earlier this week, that I didn’t know how to write the blog without pissing people off or blathering on like an incoherent idiot (like that’s new). Her solution was that I don’t write and just put up pictures. More great advice that I seem to be only partially able to follow (see random pictures).

What the Hell is that Smell?
Occasionally when I get completely overwhelmed I’m forced to play a little game called “What the Hell is that Smell.” This games board is always in the kitchen and never any fun for me. And the prize at the end is always disgusting. This week was the super deluxe bonus grand prize of a dead and starting to decompose mouse under the stove. I was the bonus prize because when I tried to pick it up, it split into two pieces. It’s official, I’m completely traumatized. Interestingly enough, this is the least of my therapeutic issues. At it turns out I have bigger mental health fishes to fry. As do the few of you who requested to see “the toe.” So I no longer want to clean my house, I now have to clean my house. As is anyone would ever come over here again. Because when is there ever ONE mouse?

What Do You Mean It Doesn’t Fit?
The size and location of the fireplace was based mostly on the Ikea cabinets that I was going to us to house the electronics and other stuff. Said cabinets were 47 5/8″ wide. The fireplace width was figured by the following quasi-mathematical equation (remember: I don’t do math). Width of room – width of cabinets x 2 (round up to 48″) equals width of fireplace. Ha Sucker! It didn’t fit. Why me? Now I’m pissed – I took out the baseboard, moved the electrical outlet (yes, I turned off the power, you only have to forget to do that once!) and I tilted, struggled, swore and “persuaded” – read hammered – until the base was in. Next I drilled the hole in the side for the cables to go through, then a hole in the bottom for the Direct TV cable, a hole in the side for the electrical to go through, then cut an opening for the wall plug, and a hole for the electrical cord. How many holes am I going to put in this stupid cabinet. NOTE: there is a reason it was only $80. I started to put the glass doors on and, of course, they didn’t fit. Not because I measured wrong, but because we bought the wrong size. IKEA – the only store where you need to leave a trail of crumbs to find your way out of. Why did I quit smoking?

Fisherman’s Beard?
I picked up some new paint to replace the blue. But – it was too ordinary. So I mixed my own. Khaki with the blue of previous color and Voila’ the perfect color. I’m calling it Fisherman’s Beard. I should work for Sherwin Williams. Plus the rug is down and perfect in all it’s Scooby Doo glory.

Why Isn’t There Any Cake?
I don’t know what it is with men and televisions. When I suggested that we get a smaller TV Ben looked as if I just told him to we were going to start living without toilet paper. Disgusted and horrified. Between us we found a most excellent compromise at a great price. NOT wider than the fireplace (I win) but not smaller (He wins). BONUS: it’s made by an American company (mostly). The next “discussion” was about how high to hang it. I wanted it low, He wanted it high. Once again math returns as a demon to torment me. We decide to go mostly with his height (mostly because I just didn’t have the strength to continue) but failed to measure the length of the TV to insure that the holes for the wires don’t show. They showed. And it’s too high. Measure twice, drill ONCE! Now we have four holes in the stone, a hole showing, and my neck hurts from looking up. Okay, I wanted to cry and now I am seriously pissed. But it’s only fair I suppose. I DID put the shower handle up too high. I guess that makes us even. The next day we drilled new holes, filled the wrong holes (they are behind the TV) and you can barely see them. I still would have liked it lower, but it’s done. It works. It fits. I’m done. How is this stupid room not done yet?

Who the Hell are You?
Most of the comments I get on this site are people trying to sell me stuff or promote their stuff. And because I occasionally (why don’t I know how to spell that word!) use questionable language, some of their stuff is stuff I don’t want to know about. But this week I got a comment from a reader, who I don’t know, about my writing. Briefly, said reader, commented that I constantly whined about things that could be easily fixed. While this may be true, I don’t take advice or candy from strangers, asshole. Up until now I thought that my audience (assuming I had one) were people who knew me. And if they didn’t like what I was writing, would just stop reading. Or just look at the pictures. It never occurred to that someone would take the time to write to me to say I suck. I figured it would be like me and Jerry Springer – I don’t write to him to tell him that his show gives a showcase to the basest of humans – I just don’t watch. But as in life little miracles happen. A day later I got a card from my Dad. A real card, in his own handwriting (not email) about how much he enjoys reading my ramblings and how he read this article about a woman who started writing a blog and then wrote a published some books. He thought I might be interested, because he likes my writing, and she was a late bloomer. He also sent one of her books and the article. I may have had limitations and troubles in my life. But lack of love and support hasn’t been one of them. I’ve always thought that life is always in balance, even if you aren’t. That while I may come up short in some areas, my parents, children, family, and friends make up the difference and create a perfect balance, for me.

IN OUR NEXT EPISODE: This room completed – by any means necessary.

Now I’m quoting Stuart Smalley. What’s next? I was thinking last week, what if nothing funny or interesting happens to share in the next blog (more pressure) what will I do? But then I remembered, this is me.

Last weekend was the stoning of the fireplace. And something else. Oh, the taper came. More dust. But a wonderful job. Any evidence of arches has been eradicated. Tiling while exhausting went pretty well. We alternated between cutting and placing. Late on Friday night we started making mistakes. Well, I did. Math has never been a strong suit for me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I didn’t HAVE to take any math classes after 8th grade. And believe me, I didn’t.

Saturday morning while trying to finish the tile, it was raining and I was in charge of the cutting. The wet saw and the rain, made for an impromptu wet t-shirt event. My poor neighbors, this is something no one wants to see. NO, I did not take a picture, but Tom did. I’ve been unable to devise a plane to delete it from his phone, sick bastard. Anyway, freezing and drenched we finally finished. I think it’s lovely and I couldn’t be happier (unless the stone had been free or made in America) Apparently we don’t have any stone here so we had to go to China. I guess I missed that. There was a rather heated discussion or two. Nothing worth mentioning. But I think my friend is right, instead of having to go through “pre-marriage” counseling, couples should have to do a renovation project together. If you can get through that, you got a shot. Sunday night I commented to Ben, “Remember when we used to do nothing on the weekends?” He responded, “Yes, I miss that.”

The week blew by with lots (too much) paying work to do and taxes. I’m not discussing the taxes because frankly, I’m a little bitter about it.

Thursday and Friday brought “Mr. Sandless” and it’s official, I’m living in an episode of HOARDERS. Everything left in the living and dining rooms is pushed into already cramped spaces. My office is a mess, you can’t walk in the den and the dining room table is on it’s side in the kitchen like a beached whale. Throw in the dog and you’ve got a nervous breakdown. Poor Stella. We sent her to doggy day care at Uncle Tom’s and then over to play with Miayumi and the girls – but eventually she had to come home.

Ben(I can’t even begin to explain this) while getting dog food picked up a pair of puppy slippers. I was just going to use socks. Four little puke pink slippers and an attitude. This is not a happy dog. I keep trying to think of a good way to describe Stella clomping around with these ridiculous clown shoes. Lift, flop, clomp, Lift, clomp, flop – dirty look, lift, flop, clomp. I told him we just wasted $10 dollars. He felt it was worth it just for the comedy factor. He may have been right. He went out of town, I switched to socks. As you can see, she ain’t happy. But the living and dining floors are done and looking very good. I still have the two bedrooms to do. Shit.

Late Saturday I started to paint. I was thinking if I have this color right it would be three in a row. This never happens. I’m usually in the basement with multiple cans of color, mixing them together like some kind of demented scientist. After getting one wall done, I realized that I may be putting my lab coat on…again. Ben hates when I do this. I ignore him. It’s a system that has worked for us for over 30 years. The paint is too blue or not gray enough or too light or too dark. It’s weird, because in the tray it’s prefect – on the wall, not so much. In the morning, I try to “fix” the color. I add more gray, more white and roll out the wall. Nope, I mix again. Roll out the wall and still no. So, frustrated and broken I did what every one who no longer smokes does. I went to Starbucks for a coffee and a apple fritter. Imagine my disappointment to return home only to find that Ben had rolled in, and I had to share my fritter. Now I’m really unhappy.

This is when things went to hell. Really, it did get worse. For reasons I not sure of, my mother-in-law is coming to dinner – With all the kids and their others. I have the whale in the kitchen and the rest of the house looks a little like Berlin, after the war. Just to keep things interesting, the Direct TV guy is here to run the cable for TV. I’m baking a cake and cleaning, the TV guy is drilling holes in the floor and Ben goes to Room and Board Outlet (open only 2 days a week, read: zoo) to get our new sofa which the matches the leather love seat we have exactly! BUT, because the universe hates me, this perfect sofa is now sitting in someone’s not blue living room. This generated the first of no less than 5 phone calls. I’m looking on line, he’s at the store, will it match, how much, what about the other one, you don’t like the fabric, that one’s too big, they don’t have that one. It came down to a leather one that ALMOST looked like the love seat we own, or a fabric sectional that had the potential to become, as my accomplice stated, “Lumpy Sofa 2 – the sequel.” I was given 10 seconds to choose over the phone, (Ben actually started counting) because by God he was not coming home with out a sofa! I, of course, froze. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t decide… so I LEFT IT UP TO HIM. I know you can’t believe this. I couldn’t either. But at the same time the TV guy, who’d previously spent like 20 minutes looking for the cable line that he put down the new hole from the living room to the basement realized that the reason he couldn’t find the cable was because he drilled the hole through the exterior of the house instead of into the basement and said cable was now laying in the driveway. Nice guy, not too bright. At the time of the countdown sofa decision, he had just informed me that he didn’t know how to get the cable where it needed to be and he “didn’t want to keep drilling holes in my house.” Great. Now I am completely defeated. I’m seriously thinking of moving. Possibly to an undisclosed location.

I’ve got you on the edge of your seats now, don’t I? Which sofa did he buy? Did the cable get connected? Did the cake burn? Was it me, who murdered the Direct TV rep in the living room with the wrench? Will I get a room of my own in jail? How will I redecorate it?

SPOILER ALERT – Well, the TV dude survived. We walked around the house until I found the old Comcast cable that went into the living room years ago. He used that. Brilliant!

Ben survived R&B Outlet and brought home the almost matching leather sofa. Because as he put it, he just couldn’t risk the kids continually bitching about a lumpy sofa a year from now. This was the right choice. Although I think we are single handedly driving the US economy recovery. It’s beautiful and I won’t have to or want to replace it ever. Ben said he just wanted me to be happy. And I thought, oh how sweet…until I realized what he really wanted was for me to be happy so he never has to go through any of this again. I respect that. And it’s almost the same thing.

Earlier this week Ben hit me in the head with a 2 x 4. Okay, that doesn’t “look” bad but it sounds pretty bad. I didn’t lose consciousness, but things did get a little fuzzy. Ben, of course, did not do this on purpose, although in all honesty he was kind of pissed off at me at the time. Then on Saturday, I was cutting the cement board for around the fireplace and nearly cut my finger off with the utility knife. My pointer finger. I like this finger, I need this finger. It’s my mouse finger, and I use it daily for things like pointing, eating frosting and getting things out of my pockets. In addition, it’s situated right next to my favorite finger, the one I use for gesturing when I really really need to talk with my hands. I guess I was lucky because it wasn’t a sharp utility knife – but in all fairness it was pretty bad. You know things aren’t good when you EMT husband advises that maybe you should hold your hand up above your heart to help stop the bleeding. So after a little medical treatment and advice (no, they won’t stitch it) I was placed in a chair and informed that I was done for the day. The utility knife was taken and I was banished. Probably a good thing for everyone.

On Sunday I didn’t feel so well, so we decided to not run and just work on hanging up sheetrock and cleaning up. I missed running, but was in no shape to go. After holding up a piece of sheetrock to be screwed, Ben went to set down the very heavy cordless drill on the ladder. He missed. Seconds later I was almost unconscious, again. This time from pain (I really did almost pass out) The drill fell directly on my poor helpless baby toe. I like this toe, I need this toe. It completes the set, and I already have balance issues. So after a little medical treatment and advice (no, it’s not broken) I was placed in a chair and informed that I was done for the day. We should have gone running. I took a picture of the toe. The littlest of piggies. It’s black and blue and bloody and not for the faint of heart. But I’m not comfortable posting a photo of my foot, even under less horrifying circumstances. Requests from those demented enough to want to see it will be honored. Please email me and seek professional help.

Ben, of course, did not do these things on purpose. It was conincidence and accidental. But is anything REALLY an accident? I informed the children that if over the next fews day I should have an untimely passing, I expected a full investigation. Even though Ben’s alibi of being in California on business was going to be a good one, they were to be very very suspicious. My positive attitude and sunny disposition have been replaced with distrust, a healthy dose of paranoia and a lot band-aids.

So as you can see, lots of progress. The week flew by and the following Saturday, I painted the ceiling. It looks pretty good, even though it took me most of the day. I didn’t get hurt, although I did fall off the ladder, drop the paint roller on my head and stubbed my injured toe about 3 times. But this isn’t unusual for me, it’s a Tuesday.

Sunday we finished the rock on the new openings. Injury free, and this week we did go for a run. Sore toe and all. Monday the taper came and mudded our sheet rock job. He gave me a reasonable quote and didn’t burst out laughing when he saw our workmanship so I guess we did alright. He made a mess though, and that IS as BAD as it looks.

We have the stone for the fireplace surround, it’s pretty. The sample seemed a little less “rusty” so I’ll probably be going through the boxes to put the ones I like best on the front. It’s not easy being me and living with my issues.

Challenges, always challenges.

Due to a lack of commitment (or failure to be committed) I was going to try and write every day. I had hoped it would force me to stick with the program. Getting the living room done is becoming important. After selling the lumpy couch on Craigslist, and due to the unfortunate seating issue there has been a threatened boycott of Sunday dinner if I don’t get things squared away…and soon. They are a tough crowd, proving that shelling out for college, doesn’t mean shit.

So I took Friday off and with Ben out of town til Sunday I was going to see what I can accomplish – although napping in front of basketball and reading a book sounded tempting.

On Friday I finished the demo on the arches. I used the new “toy” or I mean “tool” that Ben purchased. A Dremel multi-max. It repairs, remodels, and restores. It says so on the box. I was knee deep in dust by the time I finished. It took four hours of sawing, chiseling and nail removal (what was with these guys and nails!). But I”m ready for sheet rock.

I should share that I did this after running in the morning, six miles plus one with the dog. After a few hours of multi maxing, I needed a coke and badly, I was covered in dust and smelled. I thought while I was out that I’ve become one of them. You know – the people who go out and don’t care what they look like. You seem them in those horrifying “walmart shopper” photos. When I walked in the door and took off my shoes, I realized that I had worn 2 different shoes out. Granted they were both old Brooks running shoes but one was green and the other orange. If my photo shows up on line, please let me know. I am becoming my mother.

Saturday sucked. Honestly, Nixon didn’t have this kind of trouble. I wrote an expansive and completely self-indulgent diatribe about what went wrong, but after a heartfelt discussion with my friend Barcardi, I decided I need to be more positive. I know you’ll find this hard to believe but I have a tendency to bitch. Really, it’s true. So in this new spirit of positivity, I’m going to recap the days events with a sunny disposition. First, eventually the dog will forget about the firecrackers and will be willing to go outside by herself again. Second, I now know that one must vacuum and wash down a ceiling (possibly twice or maybe 3 times) before trying to paint. Third, always remember when dealing with computer code, programmers will always fuck you if they can. They need to be needed too. And lastly, perfectly prepared blueberry pancakes on a Sunday morning will always make you feel better.

Sunday I swept the ceiling again and tried to undo the damage of php 5.0 on my own dime. Sigh.

On Monday Ray came to help. He and Ben built the surround for the fireplace, in about 3 hours. Drama free and completely successful. I obviously stayed in my office and nobody threatened to do anything stupid. I worked for money today, so that’s something.

On Tuesday WE HAD FIRE. Another successful Craig’sList “accomplishment.” I’m a very happy camper. Great guy, great job! Looks good and kicks out a lot of heat too. It’s what I hoped for.

The rest of the week? Please. And tomorrow is Friday – already.

I’m putting on my best disposition and hoping for great accomplishments over the weekend. Rock and rock! Exciting! (too much? does it sound forced? insincere?)

Sigh.

Poor Stella. I’m sure she is thinking if this is going to continue, one of us needs to adjust our meds.

You know it’s been a tough week when Sunday morning comes and your finally washing the wok you used on Wednesday night. (Don’t judge, you’ve been there.) While I’m not happy about my progress, at least there has been progress. Turns out the motivation level of a room you hardly use is not as strong as the one that has the only shower.

Last week started with “No, you can’t have a Sawzall.” I suppose Ben is right, giving me a Sawzall is like giving an arsonist a book of matches. And gasoline. He would live with the constant fear of coming home from work and finding another hole in the house. So I decided to at least deal with the one we already had. When last we left our intrepid remodelers, the entry wall was gone, but not the supporting framework. Well, it’s done and ready for rock. I hired Graham, the awesome carpenter, to come in and install the header and hook up the power to the light in the entry. When he bravely crawled through the upstairs closet and into the crawl space I told him that if he found anything living or dead in there, I didn’t want to know. Upon exiting, he said nothing. So each hour that Graham worked, I worked. Every cent I made went to him, plus another $5 bucks an hour. While laying out a newsletter and building a website for a client, I ruminated on the fact that Graham made more money an hour then I did. But at the end of the day (after realizing what an elitist bitch I was) I decided why shouldn’t he make more than me? He did an awesome job. During this process I’ve been able to hire a lot of independent artisans They are grunts just like me out here working on our own. I’m happy about that. So, in addition to Graham, I met with floor sanding guy (great ideas but $300 per room – sigh – four rooms) and with a fireplace installer that closed his 3 businesses so he could be back doing what he liked doing (working with customers) instead of dealing with employees. I think this $550 I’m going to spend. Ben is uncomfortable with me and a Sawzall, I’m not too hot on the idea of him and gas lines.

The other accomplishment was the removal of the other two arches. Sorry to those who voted to keep them, but look at the difference. It is in my opinion quite remarkable. I still need to take the sides down to the studs, but not bad for a days work. But there is a lot of finishing work. And another artisan to come in and mud and tape. The budget, the budget!!!

Here is this projects knucklehead moment.

In all my visions of this fireplace, the one thing I didn’t consider was the actually physical layout of the unit. I had blissfully thought, 20″ deep, fireplace bottom, electronics middle, tv top. Easy. Not so fast Skippy. The exhaust pipe has to go up 12″ and then out. No room for electronics. Also, even though I scraped the ceiling I didn’t think about how the new fireplace wall was going to meet it. So these are my choices.

Figure 1 (images not to scale LOL) Wall doesn’t go to ceiling. Shelfs go on the side of unit or in a small cabinet above the tv to hold the direct tv, blu ray and xbox.

Also – Stone or glass tile? Stone or tile to ceiling or just half way with a 2″ mantel. I don’t want a big mantel, we just lose more space. And a single color tile not multi. Simplify. Simplify.

Figure 2 – Put in built ins? I worry about the built in because I had planned to do a chair on the left. Which may still work even with shelving. But I don’t think that shelving on just the right makes sense. It’s got to be both sides or nothing.

At some point in this process I stopped counting the arguments. Probably because it would be like counting the number of stupid things Sarah Palin says, it takes a lot of time and effort and isn’t going change anything. She is going to be stupid and we are going to disagree. So to warn you in advance we are already “discussing” how high off the floor the fireplace should be. I say 2″ at most, Ben thinks 4″. Round two will stone or tile and we should end with full or half wall. I just don’t know why he has to always have an opinion contrary (read: wrong) to mine. I need an assistant who agrees with everything I say, AND works for free. Is that so wrong?? I told Ben maybe he should start his own blog so he can bitch about how crazy I am. That would be a very long blog indeed.

These were my goals – set last week.
I will have found and paid for a fireplace.
I will have made a decision on sectional sofa.
I will finish scrapping the ceiling.
I will start taking out the arch by the front door.

First excuse: It was a long week here at the homestead. I had a lot of work related distractions.
I also wasted a lot of time in my quest for a fireplace. I know more now about gas fireplace options and prices then a normal human should. I may be wiser, but I’m not happy about it. This kind of information wouldn’t even help me on JEOPARDY! I don’t know how there can be such a huge range of prices. One website’s little price range bar went to $30,000. Probably something called “the Donald” gold plated and over inflated. You can have a direct vent (goes outside) or a vent free (recycles the air inside), gel fuel, propane, gas and electric. The only option I didn’t have was the one I really wanted. A real, wood burning one. Like the one we would smoke in front of in high school. Straight up the flue, like magic. So at one point I almost gave up and decided I really didn’t “need” a fireplace. I just couldn’t decided and they are expensive. To date I still have not purchased a unit, but I decided. The one I what is $800 and one I would settle for $550 (new and in the box!). I can’t get the cheaper on til March 1, because he is on vacation. But I’m going for the cheaper one, and adding the difference to the sofa.

Second excuse: It was a long week here at the homestead. I had a lot of work related distractions.
It needed repeating. Alright! I know it’s been 2 weeks, geeze! The sectional it turns out has it’s own problem. SIZE. I don’t live in a McMansion. I live in St. Louis Park. Minnesota. Every sectional I’ve liked is too big for my normal sized space. And it’s not very flexible. As such, the sectional has now become the sectional OR the sofas. After standing in the mostly empty living room, it occurred to me that maybe the answer is a love seat and sofa. Those I can move around and switch. So I have made that decision. Not what color (but leather for sure) or which ones (but I know what style) or where to get them, but most probably, maybe, kind of, decided. But I must admit, and this won’t mean anything to a lot of you. But I miss Dayton’s Home Store and Warehouse. Remember Dayton’s home store? Great pieces, fairly priced, and good quality. I always found what I wanted there. Terrific service, delivery. Sigh. Hell, I miss Dayton’s. Now I”m sad.

Third: The ceiling is done. BUT it exposed another decision. You know how when your doing a chore, sometimes it leads to something else and then something else. Your putting the towels away and you notice what a mess the linen closet is, so you start cleaning that, but then your realize that you can’t find your earrings, so you go looking for those and you see that vacuuming needs to be done under the bed. Meanwhile the clean towels are still sitting on the table? While cleaning up the cottage cheese ceiling off the hardwood floor, I noticed that the floors really should be redone. And this got me to thinking (which Ben will tell you is usually never a good thing and often scary) that IF I sold the lumpy sofa, (it’s on Craigs List now) and moved some things into the den and some into the garage, I could get the whole first floor done at one time. Living, Dining and 2 Bedrooms. The bedroom floors probably haven’t been done since 1949. So, while I did indeed finish the ceiling, I have now added the floors to the to do list. If you know a good floor place let me know. But from here on out, no more adding, subtracting only.

Fourth: the Archway.
Sunday ended with me dragging five incredibly heavy black garbage bags back to the alley. My buddy Scott asked, “What’s in the bags” I responded “Ben’s body, do you have room for his legs in your trash can? Mine is full.”

NOTE:Damn it – I had photo of the dust, but my iphone had to be restored and it deleted it. It was something, you couldn’t even see across the room. Damn technology!!)

It started off well enough. I started pounding, a hole started growing. Somewhere along the line we decided to use the “power saw” to trim straight edges in the existing sheetrock. I had not anticipated the mess that this would make. The rock was part plaster, and the minute that blade hit the wall we were covered in dust. I closed all the doors and turned off the furnace but by then it was too late. When we opened the front door to try to ventilate, it actually looked like the house was on fire. I don’t know why I didn’t anticipate this. There was a solid layer of dust on every surface on the main floor. During this time, we had a somewhat heated discussion as to whether or not this little demo was going to be “worth it.” I know that by the end of this, once again my spouse will have to admit that I was right and he…wasn’t. I then proceeded to spend the hour trying to get the metal corner bead and the archway out. I was seriously rethinking the other two arches removal and this plan all together. Loading bags of rock and dust into bags and hauling it out all I could think was maybe we should just move. Packing 20 plus years of shit can’t be worse than this. Ben remarked after hearing my discussion with Scott that he couldn’t believe I wanted him dead. I told him that it wasn’t that I wanted him dead, I just wanted to kill him. There is a difference, albeit a subtle one.

Now, looking at the almost demo’d opening, I can already say that it’s going to look great. As will the yet to be decided fireplace and sofas, window coverings, paint etc. But we are hell and gone from that, so now I must focus.

Goal setting – SMART. Specific Measurable Attainable Relevant Time-bound (or my version SSGWMTF)

Finish opening. Put in new header, run electrical.
Decide on other 2 arches. (I decided, they gots to go)
Get floors done.
Get fireplace = install etc.
Hire taper.
Get drunk.

SSGWMTW? Stop setting goals – watch more TV.

The last two weeks have been spent working. And the coming week isn’t looking much better. Seven jobs on my desk and no assistant. Well, I have an assistant, but she is pretty much useless. No thumbs, short attention span. Plus, as a dog, she thinks work is stupid. Hard to argue with that. For Stella napping should only be interrupted for food and potty breaks and a romp around the block. Can’t say I argue with that either. The only spare time I’ve had has been spent running or sleeping. But I will say while running or sleeping I’m usually thinking about the living / den or working. So, you know, that’s helpful.

Post-traumatic bath syndrome? Maybe. Plus my able-bodied assistant, isn’t all that amped on the next project. He thinks, and I’m not sure I disagree, that we should do the door last. Letting the weather get a little warmer. Although I’m pretty sure if I said “Go buy a new TV,” he’d be gone before I finished my sentence. I have been looking for a gas direct vent fireplace for the last two weeks. It’s hard to find anything that’s in the budget that I like. And I have no real idea what the installation materials are going to cost. I just want to make sure that I have enough money left over for a un-lumpy sofa and that I DON’T have to get from Hulk Hogan at the rent-a-rama place.

To get me back on track (time is a wastin!) I have to set some goals. Putting them here forces me to at least try to get some of them done.
Here they are.

By Friday
I will have found and paid for a fireplace.
I will have made a decision on sectional sofa.
I will finish scrapping the ceiling.
I will start taking out the arch by the front door. (I know a LOT of you want me to keep the arches. And I may keep the other two, but in order to make the sectional work and not have the living room look like maze for lab rats, I think the one by the door has got to go) (I hope I don’t regret it, cause it would be a real bitch trying to put it back.)

The beauty of all the work is the budget. I have a new budget. It’s called the “Whatever I make in the next 7 months – I get to spend budget.” This allows me to spend whatever the hell I want as long as I’ve earned it. I like this budget, I think it’s going to work for me.

More next week I promise! As long as I get my work done.