Kiss my Taurus Good-bye!

It's the ending of an era that began only four short years ago. My Taurus has been sold. I bought the car back in 2003 when I was a sophomore in college. I had saved my waitressing tips for years to accumulate enough to buy something substantial. That something substantial turned out to be a car. I didn't really do much in the way of searching for a car and test driving the different models. I let my dad handle all those details and I just signed on the dotted line. What I got was a 1995 emerald green Ford Taurus with power windows, power locks and leather interior (ooh-la-la!).

March 2003. Looking F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S with my new car.

That little gem saw me safely on many trips to see boyfriends, visit family and start new jobs, but in recent years, its health had been declining. Most visibly, the clear coat was peeling in a number of places, giving my car a splotchy, scorched look and subsequently, keeping me humble. It was with a heavy heart that I let it go. Had it been up to my unmechanically-inclined self, I would have driven it forever. Or at least long enough to let my bank accounts beef up a little after they were depleted from buying my house. But, the timing was right. Just when my dad was getting increasingly nervous about me driving long distances in a car that was past its prime and needed more tune-ups than I cared to pay for, my uncle approached me with the offer to buy his wife's car so they could get a Prius (brats! so jealous.). And so it came to pass. I ended up with a zippy gold Mazda and an 18-year old girl now calls the Taurus her own. Hopefully she'll have as many good memories with it as I did.

August 2007. Looking F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S with my old car.

Let my people go!

The ten plagues of Egypt have descended upon my backyard. They are a bit out of order and some have been modified to fit our modern times, but still the same, they have come.

First came the darkness over the land (to make the rest of the plagues all the scarier). Next came the locusts in droves (manifesting themselves as cicadas this time).

Then came the raccoons (perhaps in lieu of frogs or flies or lice).

All of these plagues were enacted upon Chad and me as we grilled out last night. I hate bugs, so I must say the cicadas were scarier than the raccoons. To make matters worse, I had to deal with not one, not two, but th-ree different bugs. That's right, I'm a hater, but it's cool, 'cuz I got it like that.

When Blecky Comes a Callin'

My sister Becky and her husband, Blake (collectively known as Blecky) came a callin' last weekend, and it was just the motivation I needed to make some progress on my house. Without any solid, looming deadline for me to complete my home improvement projects, I really hadn't had a reason to move faster than a snail's pace. But with the arrival of Blecky, I knew I had to at least get the spare bedroom/office cleared out so they would have a place to sleep.

Now, prior to Blecky's visit, my spare bedroom-office combo had been acting as the Island of Misfits ("Nobody wants a Charlie-in-the-box!"). All the boxes of odds and ends and any other items I had never gotten around to putting away or didn't feel like putting away ended up there. It boasted a collection of sweaters, shoes, picture frames, luggage and other knick-knacks including a Christmas stocking and some old face paint I'd used to transform myself into a geisha last Halloween. Once I put my mind to clearing out the room, the work went relatively quickly. I even had time to arrange my books by color on the bookshelf. After most of the items were put away, I shoved the rest of the boxes against a wall and called it, "good enough". And the space I'd cleared was good enough. Blecky was able to get their air mattress filled up with no problem (I still need to get an extra bed). Actually, I just need to get all new furniture for that room. All the pieces in it are leftovers from my illustrious college career and have all seen better days, but not many, though, because I think the furniture was pretty crappy when I originally got it from Pamida. Ahh, nothing quite brings style to a room like a matching particle board desk and bookcase.

My s-bare room

My next bit of motivation is coming up in just two short weekends. My other sister and her husband (collectively known as Lola and Mike) and perhaps my mom will be dropping by for a weekend visit! It's just the thing I need to get the last remnants of wallpaper out of my dining room!

So impressionable

Ask my former roommates, they'll tell you -- at times, I can be quite impressionable. If I regard someone highly, I'll often take his/her word as gospel. For instance, if he/she say leggings are cool, I'll say (and truly believe) leggings are cool. This very phenomenon happened to me last Friday when my coworker Amanda introduced me to Jordan Ferney's blog. Jordan's blog is full of pretty clothing, furniture, artwork and other nice things. After reading just a couple of her posts, my mind was made up: Jordan was the coolest girl ever and I would take her opinions to heart. I liked the stuff she posted so much, that I went out that very night and bought myself some new pretty things for my home.
For the rest of the weekend, I balanced my indulgence in pretty stuff with a bathtub's worth of ugly stuff. I tore out all the old, cracked, mildewy caulk on my tub and gave it some new life with a fresh bright white bead. I found instructions online at this site and this site, assembled my tools and then dove right in. The whole project was trickier than I thought and I'm not 100 percent pleased with the finished product. It took some serious elbow grease and sheer determination to remove some of the grimy old caulk. In addition to a putty knife, I enlisted the aid of a flathead screwdriver, utility knife (my utility knife is very pretty by the way, it has a flower design on it) and my hairdryer to remove the most stubborn bits of caulk. Once I was satisfied with the removal, I used rubbing alcohol to clean away any mildew and then propped a box fan up in the tub overnight to help speed up the moisture-wicking-away process. The next day, I applied the new caulk. I used painters tape to help mark off the edges of the tub and (fake) tile seam so that I'd have clean lines and then filled the tub with water as instructed by one of my online sites. I had barely gotten started with the caulk gun when I promptly sat in the water. boo. :( A bit soggy around the eges, I proceeded to apply the cualk and smooth the bead with a wet fingertip until I thought everything looked OK. Upon final inspection, I realized the width of the bead varied considerably around each side of the tub and I'm beginning to notice sections that could have been a little smoother. But still, for my first time, it's not so bad...and best of all, I did it myself!

Speaking of myself, here is a picture of me as a Simpson. You can turn yourself into a Simpson too at http://www.simpsonizeme.com/. Warning: the site was super busy and super picky about the photo I used when I tried it, but just look at me, wasn't it all worth it?

One last thing - I've really got to hand it to the folks behind all of the marketing for the new Simpson's movie. They've put together one helluva campaign that's left quite the impression on me!

My parents to the rescue!

When it rains, it pours. And right about the time I moved in to my lovely new home, a gigantic project landed on my desk at work. There was a brief face-off between the work project and home projects, but when the dust had settled, the work project emerged as the winner of all my time and energy. If I could squeeze in a spare hour, I spent it practicing my flute since I'd agreed to play for a friend's wedding and I didn't want to be the one that ruined her big day with sloppy musicianship. To further complicate things, I rubbed elbows (and ankles and calves) with the likes of Poison Ivy and paid for it...big time! The lower part of my right and left legs and my right forearm were engulfed in red, wrinkly, itchy blotches that refused to go away for two weeks. My favorite remedy for the itch -- scalding it with hot water. Mmm...hurts so good! Finally at the constant urging of coworkers, my parents, Chad, friends and anyone else who happened to catch a glimpse of my PI, I broke down, and visited the doctor who promptly prescribed a steroid pill. Within just a few days, I began to heal. A month later I'm still blotchy, but it isn't fire red anymore and no longer itches.

Poison Ivy

Since I was preoccupied with everything else in my life, my house continued not to be a home. Boxes were still planted squarely in the center of the dining room, my counter tops were littered with junk mail offers to consolidate my mortgage and my clothes were still in their suitcases. Just when all seemed hopeless, my mother swooped in and saved the day by offering me her homemaking services for an entire week! In just an hour at my place, she made more progress than I'd made in the entire time I'd been living there. While I'd been plagued by indecision and wouldn't put things away because I couldn't decide where their permanent home should be, my mom just starting putting things wherever they would fit. Any open closet or cupboard space was fair game. Her strategy - get things out of boxes and just put them somewhere. I could always reorganize later.

By the time her stay was done, my house (inside and out) had been transformed. Her only complaint was that she felt like a neglected spouse since I wasn't there very much. But that was precisely why I needed her help. Thanks, Mom!

My mom, fluffing a pillow.

Just two weeks after my mom's prolonged stay, we had a whirlwind Saturday filled with family, food and home improvement projects. I liken it to barn raising party. Many of the who's who in my family were there to help me whip my house into shape, Bob D. style, meaning get stuff done. Now.

My brother-in-law sprayed my lawn to eradicate pesky creeping charlie and other obnoxious weeds. My brother, sister and mother helped me get my feast of pulled pork sandwiches, green bean casserole, cheese and crackers, apples and dip, and other yummy foods ready and then helped in the yard. My uncle and his kids came by with a ladder so my dad could complete the one project he'd had his eye on ever since I moved in, tree-trimming. Whether he had a personal vendetta against the trees or had some other motivation, my dad just would not settle with clipping a few dead branches here and there. He set about attacking entire limbs, and with gusto. He hadn't brought his chainsaw, but he wasn't about to let that little oversight get him down. When he couldn't get one particular tree limb down with just a bow saw, he hauled his skill saw up to his perch and cut the branch that way. Dangerous? Yes. Successful? Yes, indeed.

My dad and his tree limb, just moments before the skill saw was called to duty.

My dad with his kill. Thank you, skill saw!

With tree limbs felled and my house in order, I now have time for...more home improvement projects! There's a bathtub to recaulk, wallpaper to remove, floors to refinish, curtains to hang and the list goes on. I'll get to these just as soon as I find out when my parents are free. :)

Project One: Tackling the Yard

Spring is in the air, yet I'm stuck doing fall clean-up. The previous owners not only left me with a lawn on the verge of becoming a prairie, but they also left me with deposits of dead leaves throughout the yard. I've carted away at least a dozen bags of leaves and twigs and other yard debris. The last remaining leaf pile was this vast expanse in the back yard:

BEFORE

AFTER

Doth mine eyes deceive me? But, that spot looks exactly the same, with or without the leaves! It's also suspiciously shallower than the rest of the yard, which has led me to believe that the previous owners had carved out that area for a brick patio. After all, there are two long rows of bricks lined up against the fence. I, however, do not want a brick patio. I'm content with my deck. So what do I do with this giant divet?
A. Lay sod
B. Fill it with dirt
C. Dig deeper and put in a swimming pool
D. Tear up the rest of my lawn to match

LOL!

Creepy!

My yard is more than an autumnal oasis; it is also a wildlife refuge. Rabbits, stray cats, and squirrels like to call it home. Technically, I've only seen a rabbit, a stray cat and a squirrel, but where there's one, there's bound to be more.

The yard is far from being in good shape, but at least I've brought it up to speed with the current season!