I remember

I remember that when I was a boy my Dad was at his maddest when he was trying to do something that should be relatively easy but for some reason he was being thwarted. Usually, because he didn't have the right tools. Frequently, because his tools had wandered off with the help of a small child. We (Probably Forrest my brother and myself) lost my Dad's hammer for a couple years. Thankfully, my dad did have another hammer but that was a sore spot for him I know. I also remember being at a wrecking yard outside Jerome and my Dad was being thwarted at some simple part removal. If memory serves (which I'm sure it doesn't) we shouldn't have needed tools but for some reason my Dad desperately needed his vice-grips. He ALWAYS had his vice-grips. To this day he still wears them as they are an invaluable tool. But on this day, my Dad was without. He was so frustrated that I went hunting through a bunch of wrecked cars hoping to find something he could use. I never found anything, but somehow my Dad got the part off. What should've been 5 minutes took an hour. Why do I mention my father in this blog post? Hang on, apparently Baby Clell is reading my vibe and is trying to steal the show by trying to stand up before he even crawls. Overachiever, sheesh!

ok, so why mention Dad? Well, I have been working on my own little home improvement project of my own. But I have a major deficiency (character flaw) that my Dad doesn't. I lose focus and motivation at the drop of a hat. So, in order to remain focused I increase my planning and organization. But that in turn, increases my stress level. Weird huh? Well, I have so far put in a pellet stove and chimney, tore down two walls, built two walls, drywalled them walls, and done some electrical work. Well, the electrical shouldn't have been too hard. But the only place to put another line in was a junction box. But wow it was crammed with big old wires from days of yore. And they didn't exactly follow code (probably hadn't been written yet) when they did it. So trying to pigtail into that box was crazy hard as my wire nuts weren't quite big enough to handle what was there with what I needed to add. After much hard work, I got it in. But then I realized I had to take it apart so I could put the drywall up. So I did that. After much crazier frustration (because I had less room to work with now) I got it hooked up. Then I realized that something wasn't making connection and I had to take it all apart again! Keep in mind I'm doing this while hunched over at a really awkward angle. Yeah, well, after my assembly disintegrated for the fourth time I was reaching my breaking point (an old southern expression for that is "losing my religion"). My wife came upstairs. Very dangerous. But she braved my foul attitude and and asked what I needed help with. So, with her smaller hands we got it fixed in record time. So, right now I've gotten about 50% done with my project. But the problem is, I'm burned out. Toasted. Fried. And now i'm not sure if i'll ever finish completely. The thought of working on it makes me sick to my stomach. But at least I got the wicked insulation done before I snapped.

I remember

I remember that when I was a boy my Dad was at his maddest when he was trying to do something that should be relatively easy but for some reason he was being thwarted. Usually, because he didn't have the right tools. Frequently, because his tools had wandered off with the help of a small child. We (Probably Forrest my brother and myself) lost my Dad's hammer for a couple years. Thankfully, my dad did have another hammer but that was a sore spot for him I know. I also remember being at a wrecking yard outside Jerome and my Dad was being thwarted at some simple part removal. If memory serves (which I'm sure it doesn't) we shouldn't have needed tools but for some reason my Dad desperately needed his vice-grips. He ALWAYS had his vice-grips. To this day he still wears them as they are an invaluable tool. But on this day, my Dad was without. He was so frustrated that I went hunting through a bunch of wrecked cars hoping to find something he could use. I never found anything, but somehow my Dad got the part off. What should've been 5 minutes took an hour. Why do I mention my father in this blog post? Hang on, apparently Baby Clell is reading my vibe and is trying to steal the show by trying to stand up before he even crawls. Overachiever, sheesh!

ok, so why mention Dad? Well, I have been working on my own little home improvement project of my own. But I have a major deficiency (character flaw) that my Dad doesn't. I lose focus and motivation at the drop of a hat. So, in order to remain focused I increase my planning and organization. But that in turn, increases my stress level. Weird huh? Well, I have so far put in a pellet stove and chimney, tore down two walls, built two walls, drywalled them walls, and done some electrical work. Well, the electrical shouldn't have been too hard. But the only place to put another line in was a junction box. But wow it was crammed with big old wires from days of yore. And they didn't exactly follow code (probably hadn't been written yet) when they did it. So trying to pigtail into that box was crazy hard as my wire nuts weren't quite big enough to handle what was there with what I needed to add. After much hard work, I got it in. But then I realized I had to take it apart so I could put the drywall up. So I did that. After much crazier frustration (because I had less room to work with now) I got it hooked up. Then I realized that something wasn't making connection and I had to take it all apart again! Keep in mind I'm doing this while hunched over at a really awkward angle. Yeah, well, after my assembly disintegrated for the fourth time I was reaching my breaking point (an old southern expression for that is "losing my religion"). My wife came upstairs. Very dangerous. But she braved my foul attitude and and asked what I needed help with. So, with her smaller hands we got it fixed in record time. So, right now I've gotten about 50% done with my project. But the problem is, I'm burned out. Toasted. Fried. And now i'm not sure if i'll ever finish completely. The thought of working on it makes me sick to my stomach. But at least I got the wicked insulation done before I snapped.

Favorite quote of the day

background: Bugs Bunny is fighting a witch. He turns her into a gorgeous female bunny. As he's walking off he says
"Aah sure I know. But aren't they all witches inside?"

It burns! it burns!

actually, it itches. my head, my neck, my legs. Anywhere that came in contact with the pink panther insulation. Now I'm glad we harvest those guys for their itchy fur. We do harvest insulation from animals right? If not, i'm sorely disappointed.

Let's go back a couple weeks. I was sick and I hadn't cleaned my roof. I mean, my chimney. You'll have to forgive my roof obsession as getting up on it is my primary focus. Last fall (or was it spring? It was one of the four seasons, I'm sure) I had to climb on my roof to try to keep the shingles from taking flight like a bunch of pigs. What do you mean pigs don't fly? Yeah, well, neither did my shingles thanks to my lightning fast reflexes. Anyway, that experience was unpleasant. The pigs flying away with my shingles I mean. But other than pink things giving me trouble, the wind was so fierce that I almost got blown off the roof myself. But, although the weather was foggy that morning, the one that i needed to clean my chimney, I was able to get up on the roof and scratch a little soot off of my chimney. After I got up there, I turned around only to see Titus climbing up after me. The little monkey. He was very careful, but I didn't have the ability to send him back down safely so I just had to yell at him at various times to try to keep him safe. Once I got to a stopping spot, we went down together. He certainly enjoyed himself though.

Last weekend I tore down the wall to our attic that I had put the pellet stove in. That was interesting. Rebekah was a big help which was really nice. I miss her not being able to help on a regular basis, but she's trying to get more involved. Doing demolition and then construction with four kids underfoot was challenging. But thankfully, nobody got hurt although I was pretty bruised from hitting my back, head and knees a bunch of times. So, we now have two smaller attics and an alcove that the pellet stove is in. We're pondering putting the boys in the two little attics (they're short, they don't mind lower ceilings) but I have to run electricity and finish it with drywall and insulation. It needs done but it will take some time and money. Oh, and energy. I tell you, I have learned so much having an old house. As the needs of my family keep increasing I am forced to adapt which forces me to learn. The nice thing is it's not a huge pressure all at once. I can see the needs developing and plan. I am definitely going to have to put a bathroom in upstairs next year. It's bad enough sharing with the boys but when a 2 year old (almost 3) girl starts pounding on the door and screaming "I've got to go potty Daddy!" it's a little bit too much to bear :)

ok, my grammar and sentence structure is bad but with the chaos in the house like now I'm lucky I got anything pounded out. As my Dad always used to say, "If you don't like it, you can lump it."