It stinks to be sick...

Brian called it "Mount Saint Snot" and begged for it's removal. Me, I wasn't finished building it yet. It's just subfloor.

Patience is a virtue

--To be sung to the tune of "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

It's beginning to look a lot like a real house
Everywhere you go.
Light switches and wires galore, a garage and 2 front doors,
To keep the wind outside when it blows.

It's beginning to look a lot like a real house,
So much left to do.
But the prettiest sight will be, a kitchen just for me,
I need a giant work crew!

Interior doors, carpet, and finished wood floors
Is the wish of dearest Brian.
A gas stove that works and finding no more quirks
Is the hop of inpatient Megan.
And mom and dad can hardly wait for normal lives again!

It's beginning to look a lot like a real house
Everywhere you go.
There a closed in patio, a new roof and gutters so
We don't have to worry 'bout the snow!

It's beginning to look a lot like a real house
So let's hope we finish fast.
But if Hell freezes over first, tears will start to burst.
Soon it will be the past.


Here are some recent pictures--we haven't been very good in the picture department. I have visions of fabulous "befores" and "afters". In all reality, I'm working on enjoying this time as I'm sure I'll miss it--or parts of it at least.

You can't win 'em all...

Megan surprised me with U2 tickets for my birthday back in June. We attended the concert in Vegas a few weeks back. The week of the concert, I learned that the BYU-TCU football game was selected as the site for ESPN College Gameday...a big deal if you are a college football fan, let alone a BYU football fanatic. So, the dream weekend was set up nicely: drive to Vegas Friday morning, watch U2, leave concert and drive through the night back to Provo, watch College Gameday live in Provo, get some shut-eye for a few hours, watch BYU-TCU live at Lavell Edwards Stadium Saturday night.

Meg and I joined brothers Chris and Mike, and sister in law Kelly for the drive down to Vegas Friday. We made good time, walked the strip for an hour and a half, and headed to the concert. All pictures shown were taken by my brother Matt and his wife Kim, whom we met at the concert.

The concert was phenomenal...from the stage to the song selection and performance itself, I was impressed by the whole thing. Attending a U2 concert was on the lifetime priority checklist...I guess that means I am that much closer to death. No worries. I've amended the lifetime priority checklist to include attending another u2 concert prior to kicking the bucket. I feel young again.

Proof that Megan, myself, and Chris attended the concert...
Our group headed out just after midnight from the concert headed back to Provo. We pulled in just in time to get in to the main area for College Gameday and to meet up with some very good friends and fellow cougar fans.



I was feeling so good, I and the rest of the group befriended some fans from the opposition.Following Gameday, we followed our appetite for some breakfast at Village Inn in Orem...a favorite spot for breakfast back in the day when I was a student at the Y. There, our group continued to relish in the concert and in attending Gameday, when the man, the legend, the myth--Lavell Edwards himself--walked into the establishment. While I sat in revered silence, Megan joined another in our group in spontaneous applause. Somewhat amused, somewhat not surprised, Lavell walked over to our table where we greeted him...I still sat in mostly revered silence. When he was at the point of leaving our company, I mustered some courage and felt it necessary to tell the coach that there was a golden retriever in Jerome, ID named after him. Lavell, the coach, laughed at the thought of Lavell, the dog. He told me that he had had people tell him they named their kid after him, but never a dog. Maybe I should be embarrassed that I have named my dog after the legendary coach Edwards...but the fact that I may be the first to bestow such an honor on a canine is somehow satisfying, like my lifetime obsession with cougar football is somehow justified. Of course I am kidding...sort of.

Could this weekend possibly get any better? Apparently not. The cougars were trounced that night on their home field by the TCU Horned Frogs, 38-7.


So, lesson(s) learned: You are only as old as you think you are sometimes. Life is good...even better when you have loved ones to share it with. And even when your alma mater's football team gets trounced on their home field.

Retrievers are very "protective"

So as excited as we are about the new vestibule addition to the home, we have a problem. One of the goals of this room was to give Lavell a place to be inside with us, without actually being allowed to come inside.

So we go out to read with our faithful pup at our feet last week only to find that he has issues with every shadowy reflection in the windows including that sinister looking retriever and humans that seem to be mimicking the same movements of Brian and I. What's even more hilarious is to see him sit in the corner not sure which retriever is more of a threat--the one in front of him or to his fight.


Seriously if any dog lover out there has advice for us we would appreciate it. He has no issues with mirrors--he's apparently not that stupid. But no matter how much we hold him, pet him, and try to show him how our movement are the same as , he doesn't get it. I also don't want to make him stop barking--that's his job. But so far, he's angry that we don't get it (runs to us, runs to windows, runs back to us), and we're fed up with the barking. Help!




This is actually pretty mild footage. When he gives up on barking (30 mins or so later), he just sits and growls.

Demolition begins

After a busy day at work, Brian comes home to a mess--makes more mess and cleans it up.

Tearing up some of the sub-floor.

Brian making a silly pose with his brick removal tools. The next day Dad conveniently remembered he has a had jack hammer sort of tool that expedited this process.

Apparently, since everything else was dirty, someone needed to join the action.

Use a sledge hammer to remove cast iron pipes

It was a dirty job...but somebody had to do it. Three cheers for my crazy parents who involved themselves in the process.

Although we laughed cracking jokes almost the entire time, my mom kept asking what sin she had committed recently to be in Hell.


Dad cut them down, then I beat them into smaller pieces and both mom and I carried them out.

An action shot of beating the pipe with the sledge hammer in order to break it into smaller pieces.
"Dad, what's the oily black stuff coming out of the pipes?" "Shit and rust." Oh, okay, one of the many times I've been sorry I asked.
Um, no wonder we had problems with our toilets flushing?

Be careful what you dream about in my family

One night Brian tells of a euphoric idea he had of one day sitting on the front porch having Lavell bring him his slippers. Although this comment was tongue in cheek, we started thinking about it--thought some more, then made the mistake of involving my parents.

We started to realize all the advantages of having a glassed in patio for most of the front porch. There were so many functional advantages including aiding our blowing snow issues, giving us a front entry way, and a place for Lavell to hang out, to name a few. From a a scratch-paper drawing to auto-cad plans, this porch became a quick reality. So in the midst of our house chaos--what's a little more? He is the progress--sorry I don't have a final shot yet, I hate to give "mostly final" shots and we don't have the front door yet.

Before

Bye, Spider infested bushes

Bye, old concrete porch

Porch with corner supports until windows get installed.
















My brother Mike took time from his nationwide trip to interview for radiology fellowships to come help install windows. What a nice brother.




Total house demolition begins tomorrow. I have successfully moved our "kitchen" into our tiny guest bathroom. Wish us luck!

I agree, grouting will make your fingers bleed...

Because the farm remodel has dominated our time and energies for so long and will for the foreseeable future, you'll probably have to endure these type of posts for a few more months. I hope none of you mind...it's fun for us to watch projects materialize. Anyway, here are a few more shots from the bedroom/bathrooms phase of the remodel.

I had the pleasure of grouting the guest bathroom tile yesterday. Lesson learned: your fingers will eventually bleed if you grout long enough. Megan learned this lesson long before me. I am happy to join her as a fellow finger-bleeder. I guess through our collective experience we can literally say that we've given our blood, sweat, and tears (I haven't shed tears as of yet...I was close a few months ago when I missed the nail with a sledgehammer and managed to smash my finger in the process) to this project.

It's okay to hug the "Granite" Guys

So, when the guys came to install the marble, I asked if everyone was excited about stone as I was. They said, "Yes, in fact one lady asked if she could give us a hug." Not sure what level of expectation that left for me, I said, "Oh, that's nice." I was really excited to see how the stone came in, and it made me more excited to see our granite slab in the kitchen, but I did not hug the Granite guys-- apparently, it is appropriate.

The bathroom is pretty much entirely done. Brian initiated it by taking a shower in there today. I'm waiting for the mirrors and shower door to be installed before unveiling official before and after pictures. T-minus ~ 2 weeks to total house destruction.

If anything is worth doing, it's worth doing well

. . . Thanks Mom and Dad!

This blog actually has two lessons. The second is never use pre-mixed thin-set--it is not actually the same as verabond thin-set you mix yourself. Not knowing there was a thin-set that you could mix yourself (that is much less expensive), I bought the pre-mixed version, which weighs about 50+ pounds. After Dad told me about the real thin-set, I thought I would use the pre-mixed one in addition--Bad idea.

After some internet research I learned it doesn't set well and isn't the best quality. This explained why one of my tile pieces cracked the next day, when it should have been set. It cracked and sunk--not leaving the best transition. After some excouragement from Dad, I tore it out to try again. You may be wondering why I tore 2 pieces out--well, those pieces coordinated and I have learned from a piece in my "butterfly window" where the grain of the glass does not flow the way I like, that I better not leave it with the wrong piece or it would bother me forever.

I'm still working on learning the title lesson as I do have a tolerance level for imperfections better than many, as manifest by the variable heights of many tiles in the bathrooms. By the way--yes, Mike, I wore a breathing mask to grind the tile out.
This is a view of the shower in progress with a support for the ceiling tiles that were being installed.

Dogs belong in trucks

Thanks Kev for putting up with our furry friend!

We decided not to take the truck to Idaho Falls recently and Lavell was invited, so Kevin put up with him pacing in the back seat and sleeping on his lap.

Smaller does not mean easier

This is something I should know from doing stained glass. Smaller in size does not mean easier, in fact, it can mean harder due to increased intricacy. After not finding a straight line to work from in this bathroom, I eyeballed it. Keep in mind looking at the pictures, the cabinets will overhang to about where the sidewall lines up--just in case you were thinking my eye-balling needs some calibration. The small mosaic pieces come on a sheet, so you don't have to individually place each piece.

There's always room for one more...

The following pics and video are of our "new" dog, Harvey. Someone dumped this creature off at our house this past weekend. No one claims him from our neighbors so far and owing to how scared and clingy he was from the first time I saw him on the property this past Thursday, I'm confident he was just dumped off around here somewhere. Him and Lavell get along wonderfully so far, except when Harvey tried to eat from Lavell's food dish...bad idea, Harv. The poor little guy got roughed up a bit over that one.

He's a mutt, but he's already grown on us. Many of you might think us fools for even entertaining the thought of two dogs out here...you're probably right.

We're suckers for poor, lost, hungry dogs I guess.















Harvey goes for the jugular... the pic looks more vicious than what it was. Lavell and Harvey are becoming fast friends.

It is possible to work your fingers(prints) off

I should go rob a bank this week. "Why?" you ask. I have no distinguishable fingerprints on most of my fingers and we are a little over budget on the remodel:)

Tiling taught some great lessons:

• A grout float is not like a root beer float. Not cold or tasty, but very helpful to sparing said fingers.
• Tiling is a lot like stained glass, which works out really well for me.
• Tiling takes longer than you expect--well, I guess everything takes longer than I expect, but after working with dad, I think it's genetic.
• Lastly, Tiling hurts. Everything about tiling hurts. Hurts your back, fingers, knees, hands, feet, and legs--did I leave anything out?
  

Thankfully, Saturday came and Brian was able to attack the better part of the painting. The walls are now all primed!

Brian is a budding Ansel Adams

I learned Brian has a talent for photography. I think he should enter the one of Lavell into the fair next year!

Painting and the Karate Kid are Inseparable

I painted all day yesterday...actually I primed the walls of our master bedroom and bathroom. This I did while Megan played with a saw and prepped the guest bathroom floor for laying travertine. Lesson learned is that painting in and of itself is not particularly enjoyable. The exercise becomes somewhat amusing, however, when I practice painting a la Daniel LaRusso, the Karate Kid. I know I am not the only child-of-the-80's to do such things during a painting project, or at least have that movie run through your head. No? Ok, then. I'm a dork.

Fall '08--perfect form for wielding off punches to the neck and/or face.