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The kitchen floor project

March 1, 2010 in Life | 9 comments

We have a period of time, right after Christmas and before early March that our weather is at its worse and we typically do not do much outdoors. It is a great time to do indoor projects and on our old fixer-upper house there are many to do. One year, Brian added shelves to our laundry room. Another time, we closed in the extra unneeded doorway to my office and remodeled. And in another year, we removed very ugly wallpaper in our living room and dining room and refinished the walls. This year we decided to re-do our kitchen floor. 

The floor was covered with cheap stick on tiles that over the years came loose, curled back, broke off, yada, yada. It was nasty and I hated that it looked so crappy. Several years ago, when we had to pull out the built-in dishwasher for repairs, we saw underneath that our floor was hardwood.

So, on one cold Sunday in early January, we decided we would expose the hardwood to match the rest of our house. The plan was to remove the tiles, sand, stain and urethane. Our best estimate was that we could complete the project in two weekends. On the first weekend, we would remove the tiles and do the sanding. On the second weekend, we would stain and finish. Aaah, the best laid plans… We began scraping off the sticky tiles and discovered a sheet of luaun. We removed the luaun and discovered a layer of linoleum. We removed it and discovered a layer of tar based mastic adhesive. Underneath that was another layer of tiles and under that was another layer of the tar based adhesive. We scraped the linoleum and the next layer of tiles, thus removing the one layer of that tar based icky stuff, but the bottom layer was going to be problematic. We tried scraping, mineral spirits, goo gone, and other products to remove this icky coating, but nothing was working. I researched the internet on how best to remove this stuff and found out that even Bob Vila had no answers. Most sources said it couldn’t be done and to replace the flooring with new hardwood. One source suggested using hot steam.

We wanted to save our old floor, so we got out the iron and tried it. Yes, it did work the best. Heat up that black tarry gunk and scrape. It was hard, arduous work. It was not perfect. That bottom layer of gunk separating us from our hardwood floor had probably been on there for 60 years and probably full of asbestos, too. So, we needed to get the floor as clean as we could before doing any sanding. Five weekends later, we were ready to sand. 

At this point, we moved the range out of the room. We wanted to remove the refrigerator, too, but the only way to fit it through the doorway was to remove its three heavy doors. We decided we would try to work around it, pulling it out away from the wall to work on that area and pushing it back into place while we did the rest of the floor.

It took another two very inconvenient weeks to finish this project, what with not being able to walk on the floor or use the stove or get to the refrigerator, but it is done. Just in time to get out and start working on the outdoor projects.

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Are you a hoarder?

February 21, 2010 in Life, Organize | 36 comments

There is a TV show on A&E called Hoarders. Have any of you ever watched it? I’m not sure what night of the week it comes on, but I happened to watch several repeat episodes while I was cleaning house one afternoon last week. (I know, kind of ironic, isn’t it?) 

A hoarder is defined as a person who has a need to acquire things, but fails to use them or discard them. A&E says its program is about people whose hoarding has gotten so out of control they are on the verge of personal crisis. 

One episode was about a woman whose children were taken out of the home by the Department of Social Services because her house was considered unsafe and unsanitary. She had to clean up in order to get her children back. The therapist and a cleaning crew came in to help get the job done. The work was slow as the hoarder had to touch every piece of junk before she could decide if she could throw it away or not. And, in most cases, she could not. At the end of this episode, the woman’s house is clean, but her garage and basement are stacked floor to ceiling with boxes of the stuff she could not part with and Social Services is not convinced that her home will stay clean for long and she does not get her kids back. 

In another story, a woman had convinced her second husband (the first husband had divorced her over her hoarding problem) that they could never get their current home cleaned up and should buy a second house so they could start over! Eventually, they would clean up house one and sell it, she had promised. So, now, strapped with two mortgages and two out of control houses, she asks for help. Ultimately, the crew of helpers left after barely making a dent, although, the woman said she would finish at her own pace on her own. 

In another episode, a man spent a week and only got his dining room table cleared. Even though his wife had fallen down the steps the previous year resulting in a broken leg because of all the junk stacked there, and even though, she promised she would leave him if he did not get his mess cleaned up, he could not. 

In all of the cases I watched, the hoarders felt overwhelmed and ashamed and really had a strong desire to get a handle on their compulsive behavior, but could not. 

I admit it. I really don’t get it. I do not understand how people could live in such filth and why they have a need to keep so much utterly useless crap. It made me realize, though, that most of us have our own compulsive behaviors.  I am quite the opposite of a hoarder. I must have order in my house. I keep the spices on the spice rack alphabetized. My silverware drawer must be organized and only hold a matching set. There are no wire hangers in my house and clothes must be hung facing the same direction. All of the clean towels and wash clothes must be folded in the same way with the fold facing out and stacked in their appropriate places in the linen closet.

A couple of months ago, I was losing sleep because my sock drawer was a mess! Well, okay, honestly, I wasn’t losing sleep over it, but I was thinking about it everyday. Browns were mixed in with blues and some had no match and I couldn’t just reach in the drawer and pull out what I wanted. It felt very satisfying to clean it. (I do not remember now the exact count, but after I threw some away I had over 30 pairs – more than I could wear in a whole month! Maybe, I’m a sockaholic.)

I have no problem getting rid of stuff. My general rule is that if I haven’t used something in a year, I must not need it and out it goes. The junk gets thrown out, and, I pile the quality stuff in the workshop, planning a future yard sale. I have never actually had a yard sale as I can’t stand the accumulating clutter, so I gather up those things and give them away a few months later.

This is not to say that I am a neat freak. I am far from it! My floors can get dirty, the furniture can get dusty and I usually have a stack of clothes piled on the dresser by week’s end. But, I do clean the inside of my refrigerator every week and straighten the kitchen pantry shelves every time I put groceries away. The more I write about it, the more I realize that people must think I’m  a tad crazy! I am truly a compulsive anti-hoarder. 

I see a reality TV show in the making; people who throw things out only to discover later they need them! 

I’ve got other compulsive behaviors, too. But, I’ll save those for another day!

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Sam’s first snow

February 14, 2010 in Lowcountry Living, Sam | 15 comments

Since moving to the country, Brian and I have become real homebodies. We don’t go out, like on a date, very often. There are a number of reasons for that. One, is that we simply like being home. Two, is that we live so rural that a date typically involves a lot of miles driving. Three, is that we live on a fairly tight budget and I can cook a great meal so much better and so much cheaper than going out. (I enjoy cooking, too, by the way.) Four, when we do decide to spend money on fun, we prefer to spend it on our boat or going golfing.

So, rare indeed, was our planned date night for Friday. We would go to dinner and a hockey game at the Coliseum in North Charleston! The South Carolina Stingrays are the local team and although, we have lived here for eight years, we had never been to a game. We had wanted to do this for years. Watching a live game and rooting for your home team is so much fun. And, Brian really loves this game, too. He grew up playing hockey, and has great memories playing with his buddies on Campbell’s Pond and on a Junior League team, too. Brian was a great skater back in the day!

After, the game, we would have a late supper at one of the fine restaurants in Charleston, another rarity for us.

I went on-line, splurged and bought the best seats available for the game. Five rows back, center ice! After I paid the convenience fee for ordering on-line and the TicketMaster fee, the tickets were quite expensive. But, that was okay. This was going to be so much fun!

And, it was my long weekend off, too! I could putzy around all day on Friday and get ready in the late afternoon for our date night unrushed. I was so excited!

Then, the snow storm came. On Friday afternoon at about 2:30 p.m., it began to snow. It was expected to snow until midnight or later. Now, it is important here to explain snow storms in South Carolina. First, they are very rare. (To give you an idea of how rare they actually are here, this is our fourth in 10 years.) Second, because of our more temperate climate, when we do get a snow storm here, we usually just wait for the temperature to rise and the sun to come out to melt it.  Third, and because of items one and two just mentioned, South Carolina doesn’t need to own any real quantity of snow removal equipment like northern states do.

As the afternoon progressed, schools began closing early, evening activities were getting canceled, and the local governments were advising people to stay off the roads except for emergencies, yada, yada. And, I got more and more worried about making our trip to Charleston. The thought crossed my mind that maybe Brian and I could really make a big night of it and stay in a hotel in town, but then, I remembered Sam Dog. The cats would be fine without us, but our absence would be too long for him.

Surely, the Stingrays would cancel the game and we would get a refund or tickets to another future game. But, no! The Florida Everblades were already in town and the game would be played, which meant no refund for us if we were no-shows.

So, you can understand how very disappointed we were making the decision to not make that long drive in wintry conditions.

So, at 5 p.m. on Friday afternoon, we have no meat thawed to make dinner at home and, more importantly, no range to cook on anyway. You see, we removed the range while renovating the kitchen floor and would have to wait one more day before we could re-install it.

Brian suggested we order pizza. There is a pizzeria in our little town, and although it does not deliver, we could make the short drive over there to get it. Since I really hate pizza, I was thinking that this day could not get any more disappointing. But, then Brian suggested a second dinner alternative: dinner at Captain Kirk’s. Captain Kirk’s is an additional 15 miles further away, but it has an excellent menu!  We would go there for dinner and come home and watch the Opening Ceremony of the Winter Olympics! If Captain Kirk’s was open, I voted for that idea! I called ahead and couldn’t believe someone answered and I got a reservation!

We warmed up the car (to get the snow to melt off the windshield, since most respectable South Carolinians do not own scrapers) and headed to the restaurant. The snow was coming down heavily now and sticking to the roads, but we got there safely.  We had a wonderful dinner, Brian had the 14 oz. prime rib and I had the Valentine’s Special, a petite filet and three lobster tails (small, but delish). Another inch of snow had fallen by the time we left the restaurant, but we managed to get home in one piece, too!

After we got home, I made a pot of coffee for our dessert drinks (Kahlua and coffee) and we settled in to watch the Olympics.

It was nice and I was happy that the evening would not be a total bust after all! But, after five minutes, the satellite went partially out, and we lost our local affiliate channels, including NBC, the only station carrying the Olympics. Darn it, again! So, we put on another station and watched the ending of a movie, The Royal Tenenbaums. Well, we watched it until the power went out! Oh, man! Nothing left to do now, but just go to bed and sleep the rest of this day away!

In the morning, our power was back on. And, we moved the range back into the kitchen. The news reported that the Stingrays won an exciting game; tied at 3 goals each at the end of regulation play, the Stingrays won in the shootout! And, Sam Dog loved his first snow! 

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Sharing the happy

February 6, 2010 in Life, Life's lessons | 18 comments

Most of you are probably wondering what that Happy Book thing is on the left sidebar of my web site. I hope you are wondering enough to read on.

First, let me start by asking you if you are familiar with The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, a novel by Ann Brashares (and later a movie by the same name). The premise is that four best friends, spending their summer away from each other, decide to share a pair of pants to keep them connected. Each keeps the pants for a short while and then send to the next friend.

Second, The Happy Book, written by Rachel Kempster and Meg Leder is a book about being happy. It is an activity book that encourages us to discover or re-discover the things in life that make us happy. They (the authors) say their book is more fun that a basket of kittens!

Third, one of those happenstance, must be fate kinda moments in life, I happened to log into Facebook right at the moment when a friend shared a link to Jamie Ridler’s Creative Living Blog, and since I wasn’t too busy with anything else I clicked on the link and read that Jamie had interviewed the authors of The Happy Book and…

Combine these three elements and what you have is Jamie’s idea to send a Happy Book around the world for people to share their happy things!

What a cool idea, thought I, so I signed up immediately, wanting to be one of the few to get in on this happiness sharing thing!

Jamie would accept 26 names, come up with a mailing list, mail the book to the first recipient who can keep it for a week and do whatever happiness she wants in it. Then she mails it to the next person who gets to the same and so on! Considering the mail time involved, it will probably take about a year for the book to make a round trip.

Well, first so many people wanted to do this, that Jamie decided to start 4 books on their trips around the world! I am in the Glee group and I am number 14 on the list. When the book gets to me I can do any or as many of the activities that I want. I can insert pictures or doodles or use crayons or whatever makes me happy! I can share with my family and friends, if I like, but when my week is up, I send it to the next person. If we run out of pages, we’ll just add more!

I know none of the people in the Glee group in real life. But, I know I am going to enjoy perusing what the thirteen happy people entered before me. And, maybe my happy will add some joy to the people after me!

Jamie mailed the books on January 15 to the first recipient in each group. I should receive it, somewhere near the end of July. It will be Jamie’s job to help us keep the book on schedule and she has set up a blog site  for us to follow our book through its journey.

That’s it! I’m in a sisterhood of a traveling happy book and that makes me happy!

Everyone likes to be happy, yes? Let’s use the comment section of this post to share things that makes us happy! Send lots of happy comments, okey dokey? I’ll go first…

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Gotta have milk

February 2, 2010 in Life | 32 comments

I don’t know if this blog post is about milk, or first grade memories. You will have to decide for yourself, I reckon, and then comment accordingly!

First, about milk. I love milk. It is my favorite drink in the whole world. I drink it at breakfast, at lunch, at dinner and sometimes I even have a glass with a snack.

I have not always had this close relationship with milk. Growing up, I never drank it. We rarely ever had it in our house. My dad, the grocery shopper, did not drink milk. So, he bought canned evaporated milk for mom to add to her coffee or to reconstitute for a recipe. 

When I was a senior in high school, Brian remembers coming to the house one morning to see me before school and was shocked and a bit creeped out that I had toast and eggs with a tall glass of Pepsi for breakfast!

At some point after we were married and I was pregnant, Brian convinced me that a glass of milk every once in a while would be “good for me and the baby.” And, so, I began my love affair with milk.

So, now to my first-grade memory. I bought the school cafeteria lunch everyday. Back then, students didn’t get to chose what to get on their trays, they simply got whatever was served that day – a mystery meat, vegetable, fruit and milk. The milk came automatically. But, I never drank my milk because I didn’t drink milk. I didn’t like milk. I never even opened the carton. Sometimes I traded it or just gave it to someone else to drink, but most days, it got thrown away.

Now, after lunch, we got to go outside to play. Ergo, the quicker we finished lunch, the sooner we played.

One day, my first grade teacher, Mrs. Biddleman, who sat at our lunch table with her class, usually across from me so she could keep an eye on me, decided that I should drink my milk. “Think of all those poor starving kids in China,” she said.

“I don’t like milk,” I said. “It makes me sick.” “The kids in China can have it.”(Well, I can’t remember our exact words, but it went something like that)

I’m sure I said something sarcastic that pissed her off, because she informed me that I could not go out to recess until I drank my milk. Now, somewhere in my six year old logic, this was wrong. How could she insist that I drink something that I didn’t want, didn’t like and had bought and paid for with my own (well, with my parents’) money? So, we sat. And, sat. And all the other kids in first through third grades ate their lunches and went outside to play. And, finally recess was over and everyone went back to class. It was then that I got to throw my milk in the trash and go back to class. Triumph! Or so I thought, as the next day, Mrs. Biddleman and I sat alone in the cafeteria for an entire recess once again, while all the good boys and girls got to go outside. But, I had my principles, dammit! When she did it to me for the third day, I began to worry. I worried mostly that I’d drink my milk and barf. Boy, that would sure show her!  But, by the following week, Mrs. Biddleman had tired of this little exercise in six year-old mind control and gave up. I am proud to say that I never caved.  

To this day, I am very picky about my milk and there are certain brands I refuse to drink. All milk is not the same! My favorite milk is Publix store brand. I like the ½ percent milk best, but if I can’t get that, I will drink 1 percent or 2 percent, too. I’m the one at the grocery store going through all the milk on the shelf to get the freshest one, too. Brian is trained to do the same.

I guess I’m a milkaholic. That’s the first step, isn’t it?

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