Category Archives: House Stuff

starting to look that way

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The latest on the siding is that there is no news. I called and complained yesterday morning, and they told the guy (Chuck) to stop working and leave. He did. Now we’re waiting for one of their head honcho guys to come out and look at the wall that we’re not happy about, so we can decide how to proceed from here. At least this company is listening to me and taking my complaint seriously, so I guess I can live with that.

In other news, something has happened this week and my stomach is suddenly very obvious. I don’t really understand that. I’ve heard women talk about how your belly “pops” at some point, but it’s kind of insane how it happened literally overnight.

Tuesday evening, I went to my prenatal yoga class, and I felt sort of self-conscious because I was the only one there in my first trimester, and the only one who wasn’t showing. (The teacher, btw, applauded my effort to start early. She said she has lots of women who come in during their 32nd week and are all, “Ok, I’m ready to start yoga now!” Better late than never, I guess?)

Wednesday morning, I woke up, and it was suddenly “oh hello there, tummy, where did you come from?” Dave wouldn’t stop poking at it because he seemed convinced that it was all just gas. (Nice.) But it’s not gas, it’s just… there. The weird thing is that my jeans still fit, because all of the tummy expansion seems to be above my belly button. I’ve had to give up belts, of course, and my tighter jeans don’t stand a chance. But my looser jeans still button just fine and don’t really pinch on me at all.

I have two supporting anecdotes to prove that this is not all in my head:
1) I was walking through the lobby at work, and there were two women sitting there. One of them looked at me, then turned back to her friend, and said, “Oh, do you remember so-and-so? Did you know that she’s pregnant now?” Apparently just the sight of me causes others to think of the subject of pregnancy.

2) Yesterday, the checkout girl at the grocery store asked me if I was pregnant. That’s the first time a total stranger has noticed. I wasn’t wearing a maternity shirt, just an extra-large t-shirt and jeans, so it occurred to me that it was a really stupid thing for her to ask. She isn’t one of the checkout people that I see all the time, so it’s not like she knows my “normal” body as a frame of reference. That could’ve potentially been very awkward. Lucky for her, I am indeed pregnant, so I wasn’t offended.

Oh, even weirder? I still haven’t gained any weight. I don’t know how that’s possible, because it certainly isn’t like the rest of me is shrinking at all. I guess things are just shifting around in there.

I’ll be eleven weeks pregnant tomorrow. I suppose I should start posting some belly shots so y’all can see the tummy for yourselves. I’ll try to do that this weekend.

more de-whitetrashifying, or perhaps not so much

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The process of getting new siding on our house has officially begun. And I am not happy, for the following reasons:

1) We were told that a “crew” is generally two or three guys. We have one dude working on our house. One.

2) The guy started over two weeks after the supplies were delivered, because the company allegedly just didn’t have any installers available until this week. In the meantime, the stuff has been sitting in our driveway, just waiting to be hung on our house, but fine, whatever.

3) The one dude crew? His name is Chuck. (Of course it is!) The first day on the job, he called my office number and left me a voicemail, wanting to know if it was ok – since he lives about 100 miles away – if he parked his camper in our driveway and lived in our yard for the next two weeks while he does the installation. And, um? Call me a privacy freak, but hell-to-the-no, that is not ok!

After I got his voicemail, I called the office manager lady who I’ve been talking to a lot lately, and asked her, “Don’t you guys pay to put him up in a motel or something?” I mean, the guy lives in the Olympia area, which is really far away, so I understand him not wanting to make the daily commute. But, camping out in my yard? What the hell? That issue is now resolved – I did some googling and found an RV park about ten miles from our house. So he can park his camper there, and then have access to toilets and showers and all of those other amenities that don’t involve him coming inside my damn house.

4) He starts hammering at about 6:30 in the morning. My alarm doesn’t go off until 7:00. I cannot think of a more unpleasant way to wake up. I need ear plugs, but then I’m afraid that I’d sleep through my alarm.

5) Last night, when I got home from my pre-natal yoga class (go me!), Dave took me outside to show me the first of the new siding that’s been put up. And I love the color, as I knew I would. (I’m the one who picked it, after all. I had to sell Dave on it.) But the seams, where the pieces of siding begin and end? Um. They’re bad. Lots of bubbles and gaps and things that shouldn’t be there. It looks like Dave and I installed it ourselves. And apparently Chuck told Dave that although he’s been installing siding for over 30 years, this is the first time he’s ever installed this particular type of siding. I have a major problem with the idea of being someone’s guinea pig, especially when we’re paying them a huge amount of money for a particular “service.”

This morning, I went outside and asked him about the gaps along the seams. He said that he doesn’t know “what idiot” told me that siding is supposed to look seamless. I told him that the idiot in question is the sales rep from his company who sold the project to us. He gave me this speech about how the siding is going to expand the first time the sun hits it, and then the seams won’t be visible anymore, yadda yadda. I had a total girl moment right then, because I was thinking, “But it’s vinyl, which is a man-made material. It doesn’t expand and contract like, say, wood…” I don’t know why I didn’t say it, I don’t think it was a fear of being too aggressive. I think it was just early in the morning and my brain and mouth weren’t cooperating yet.

Oh, he also does that thing that some people do where they say your name every time they address you? “Well, you see, Cindy…”, “Yeah, Cindy, I know what you mean, but…”, etc. I generally consider that to be a quality that dishonest people use to try to ingratiate themselves to others. I hate it. I get that you remember my name. You can stop saying it now.

Anyway, I’m going to make Dave go talk to him about the issue with the seams, because I think he might respond differently when talking to a man. Who knows. But if he gives Dave a bullshit answer about why the siding looks so bad, I’m calling the company and telling them that they either need to get us another “crew” or they can give up any hope of ever seeing a dime from us.

In other news, I planted flowers last weekend. Look, pretty!


she rakes, she bakes, what can't she do?

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Are y’all getting tired of reading about house stuff? Because that’s really about all that I’ve got right now.

Our appraisal went well, so the home equity loan is all set, and tomorrow is the best part of all: we’re getting central air-conditioning! It seems like no one in the Northwest has air-conditioning because you only need it for maybe a few weeks total out of each summer. But I am a spoiled brat who was raised in the south, and I firmly believe that if the temperature outside is over 75 degrees, you’re supposed to be able to turn on a damn air-conditioner in your house.

Anyway, we aren’t getting a regular ol’ air-conditioner. Oh no. We’re getting a combination A/C and heat pump, which will apparently save us a ton of money in the winter by running our heat on electricity rather than propane (what it currently runs on). And propane is expensive, so the heat pump is a good investment, helps the house’s re-sale value, is better for the environment, yadda yadda. All good stuff.

On Saturday, Dave and I went to our local dinky hardware store, where we bought a new wheelbarrow (yay!) and other yard stuff. When we got home, I did some weed-whacking (hee!) and raking, and started my very own teeny-tiny mulch pile. (I’m sure it’ll grow as time goes on.) Dave started his own little yard project, which is to kill the grass in half of our front yard, so we can see how uneven the ground is there and figure out where we need to redistribute the dirt to make it level. Good times.

Later on Saturday, I went shopping with Kris and bought a couple of cookbooks. Dave and I are making an effort at eating healthier (again), and we’ve been doing pretty well with that for a few weeks now, but I needed some inspiration. Hence the cookbooks. On Sunday, I made oatmeal cookies that were sweetened with grape juice concentrate rather than sugar. They were pretty good, but I think next time I might have to leave out a little juice so I can add just a tiny amount of sugar. Because seriously, if I’m craving something sweet, I just don’t think they’re going to do it for me. They’re ok, just sort of… meh. They taste “healthy,” and not in a good way.

I’ve been strangely hyper lately (see Saturday: “Let’s go to the store! Let’s do yardwork! Let’s go shopping AGAIN!!”), and I’m waiting for the crash when I need to sleep for three days to balance it out. But I’m enjoying the extra energy for now, because I seem to be getting a lot of stuff done. I wonder if maybe the energy is because I’ve been eating less junk? Scary thought, that my body might actually be happier with better sources of fuel in it. Ah, if only I could feel this good on nothing but potato chips and Little Debbie snack cakes… Sigh.

I am not a gardening girl

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Last night, Dave had plans to meet up with one of his buddies for a beer, so I decided that when I got home from work, I would work in the yard for a while. It was our first truly sunny day for a couple of weeks, and it was a perfect 67 degrees, so it seemed like a good idea. Also, since it doesn’t get dark until almost 10:00 at night here, I knew I had at least a few hours of sunlight that I could spend on it.

Yeah, right. Here’s how that scene played out:

1) I’d like to rake up all of the weeds that I cut down last weekend, but I need a wheelbarrow to haul away all of the stuff that I rake.

2) Where’s the wheelbarrow (you know, the one that our yard tried to eat)? Ah, there it is. But one of the handlebars broke off in the Great “Pull the Wheel Barrow Out of the Damn Mud” Adventure. And a one-handled wheelbarrow is just about the most useless thing ever.

3) Our riding lawn mower has a little trailer attachment that I could use instead of a wheelbarrow. Hmm… the trailer isn’t hooked up, but I guess I could figure out how to attach it. I wonder where Dave leaves the keys for the lawn mower? Maybe it doesn’t need keys, maybe I’m just supposed to push one of these buttons… holy mother of God, this thing is a stick shift?? Run away, run away!!

4), Ok, my grandiose raking plans are officially thwarted. Hey, maybe I’ll do some more weed-whacking (ha!), since I was pretty good at it last time, and the area in front of our fence (like, between the fence and the street) really needs to be cut back.

5) Alas, the weed-whacker, she is out of gas. And it’s one of those appliances where you have to mix the gasoline with oil, and I have no idea how to do that. Scratch the weed-whacking plan. Back to square one.

6) Well, there’s that front flower bed where I sprayed all the weed killer last week, and it’s all brown and dead now. I guess I can find the hoe in the garage and get rid of all the dead weeds out there. Then when Dave asks what I did while he was out, I can tell him I was hoe-ing, and won’t that be funny. Hee.

7) Um, hoe-ing is hard. (Start humming, “It’s Hard Out Here for a Hoe.”) And even though the weeds are dead, they still have roots. I need one of those motorized tiller things. (Look in the garage.) Nope, we don’t have one. Didn’t think so. Damn.

8) Well, we do have the regular ol’ lawn mower (the kind that you push by hand), and there’s that big area in the back our property where the riding lawn mower can’t go because it’s too bumpy. Maybe I’ll just mow that section and call it an evening.

9) What on earth do you have to do to start this thing? I’ve started lawn mowers before, I don’t remember them being this complicated.

10) My neighbor across the street is edging his lawn. Maybe I can ask him to help me start the lawn mower. Except I’ve never met him before, and how lame a first impression is that? “Hi, I’m your neighbor Helpless Female who can’t figure out how to pull a damn cord to start a stupid lawn mower.” No thanks.

11) Ah, to hell with it.

12) I am obviously PMS-ing, because it’s ridiculous that I am about to burst into tears over this.

13) (Thirty minutes later: showered, in pajamas, microwaving leftover Chinese food, and watching an “ER” rerun on DVR.)

Fin.

odds and ends, part 423

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There isn’t a whole lot to write about right now. I’ve been pretty stressed this week. We’re trying to get the house all tidied up, because apparently in order to get a home equity loan, we have to first get our house appraised. And we need the home equity loan to pay for new siding, before the house completely rots to pieces. So that’s fun. But I must admit, the siding that Dave and I picked is gorgeous, and I’m really looking forward to it because the house is going to look so much prettier after it’s done. It’s all part of the big De-WhiteTrashification plan.

Anyway, I don’t know if it’s true that clean houses appraise higher, but I’m damn sure not taking the chance. So there’s been a bit of frantic cleaning going on. Hence why we rented the dumpster to get rid of some junk. We also had the roof power-washed because… well, because you have to in our climate or else your roof starts to grow stuff. Like moss. Or shrubs if you let it go long enough. (Seriously, you should see our next-door neighbor’s barn roof. It’s practically got trees sprouting out of it.)

Other random stuff:
* Dave gave a speech at this thing yesterday. Which just goes to show how totally different we are, because he can give a presentation in front of approximately 500 people and it doesn’t really seem to faze him. I, on the other hand, would need to be severely medicated, and even then, I’m not sure I could do it. I’m really proud of him for it, though. He’s such a smartypants.

* Yesterday marked a mini-anniversary for Dave and I, two years since our first date. We went out for steaks. Yum. We also got our anniversary cake. Backstory: The lady who did our wedding cake gives her clients a free 6-inch cake on their one year anniversary. As it turns out, she just had a baby so she forgot about our anniversary on the 15th. I had to email her to remind her, and she dropped off the cake at my office yesterday. And it worked out well, since it was still a pretty special day for us. (Our first date, celebrating Dave’s big speech, etc.)

* I got an email yesterday from a girlfriend of mine back in Massachusetts. We haven’t seen each other in years, but we still email pretty regularly. Apparently she’s pulling a Britney Spears: she just had a little boy back in September, and she’s already pregnant with baby #2. (Not that she’s anything like Britney at all, she seems like a very responsible parent. And her husband seems like a lovely guy, unlike K-Fed.) She knows that Dave and I are trying, so she started her email with, “Hope you won’t get mad at me for this, but….” Wow. Like I could begrudge someone their pregnancy? I mean, yeah sure there’s a bit of a “dammit, no fair!” aspect to it, but I’m still happy for her. She’s not the only person who seems to think that, though – another friend of mine had a pregnancy scare and she said she kept thinking about how upset I was going to be if she had to tell me that she was pregnant. It sort of blows my mind. Are they just being sensitive because they know I want to be pregnant? Or do I give off a really angry and bitter vibe? Because I honestly thought I outgrew my angry and bitter phase back in college. So I’m sort of confused about that.

* There’s been an interesting little development at work, where it seems like maybe I won’t be out of work after June 30th, because the manager of a team I work with seems keen to bring me over to work on his team. I don’t want to talk too much about it and jinx it, but I have a meeting with that particular manager tomorrow to discuss some of this stuff, so y’all keep your fingers crossed for me, because this could be really good.

Aaaand, that’s about it. Hope y’all have a lovely Memorial Day weekend.

The De-WhiteTrashification Begins

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This past weekend, Dave and I started a process which I am referring to as the DeWhiteTrashification of our home. It’s probably going to take all summer. I’m taking before-and-after photos, but I am not posting the “before” pictures up here until we have made substantial progress, because it is seriously embarassing.

True story: Back when Dave and I first started dating, he had a broken washer and dryer in the driveway. You’re supposed to call the waste management people to do a special “appliance pick-up” for things like that, rather than putting them in the regular trash. A little Sanford & Son-ish to leave it in the driveway, sure, but no big deal, right? I didn’t think it was a deal-breaker or anything, I just figured he was getting around to it.

A year later, when we were about to get married, the broken washer and dryer were still in the driveway. Since we were having the rehearsal dinner at our house, I sort of freaked out about it. Steve, my ever-helpful brother-in-law, moved the washer and dryer around to the side of the house, and lay them on their sides, so they wouldn’t be visible to people coming into the house.

A year after that, which brings us to current day: we have a completely rusted-out broken washer and dryer with grass growing up through them in our yard. Can you get more white trash than that? I think not.

And that is but one of oh-so-many things that we’ll be correcting over the next few months. I’m only admitting to the washer and dryer because that part is already resolved – they’re now sitting in our driveway, tucked safely inside a dumpster that we rented, which will soon be hauled away to someplace unknown where I never have to see or think about them ever again. I can’t wait.

I also went a little crazy with the weed-whacker yesterday. (And apparently I am 12 years old, because the term “weed-whacker” totally makes me giggle. Like hee hee, I said “whack”. Which isn’t funny if you think about it in the Sopranos sense of the word. But “whacker”? Y’all, I am not made of stone. That is a funny word.) Dave mowed the lawn while I weed-whacked. (Hee!) (Okay, I’ll stop.) I really had no idea what a workout that thing is – I noticed after I stopped that my arms were shaking, but I just assumed it was from the vibration of the motor. Sort of like if you spend a lot of time on a boat, it feels really weird to walk on land afterward? I thought it was something like that.

Later that night I went to dinner with Kris, and I had to use two hands to lift a glass of water from the table to my mouth. I would try to lift it with one hand, but I would shake so badly that I thought I was going to drop the glass. Hmm. Maybe it’s just me, but something seemed sort of wrong about that.

Today, my arms are so sore that I can barely lift anything. I went to get a carton of milk out of the fridge this morning and promptly dropped it on the floor. I was using both hands, and it was only a two-quart container, not a gallon. (And do you know how far milk can splatter? It’s insane.)

Of course, I keep giggling at the thought that my arms are sore from the vibration of whacking for three hours yesterday. Which really makes it all worthwhile. Except, ouch.