Rough-In Approval

It's been a very frustrating set of weeks between the electrical rough-in approval and today's framing approval. I've been all keyed up and anxious because there's so many other things going on at the same time, with James getting on a plane to Germany and getting Deb's car fixed up so she can drive it and Adam's brakes going wonky and needing to frame in closets and headers.

Like a one-legged man in a snake-stompin' contest.

In the end, it was kind of anti-climactic. The inspector showed up in the morning around ten and he walked around the basement for about five minutes and then pronounced that it looked good, signed off on the inspection and that was it.

(Aside from a lively conversation on the front porch about how his wife doesn't know how to turn on the gas pumps when she fills up her car.)

Felt like a whole lot of worry for nothing, but in actuality, I worked like crazy to make sure everything was looking clean and orderly and under control down there; moved all the piles of insulation and random pieces up to the garage to get them out of the way, got all my tools arranged in the tool cabinet, moved the extension cords out of the way so nobody would trip over them.

After the inspection, I felt like taking the rest of the day off to celebrate, but there was too much to do. After all, there was still work work to do. So I contained my excitement and got ready for the next step: putting the insulation back on the walls and then calling the drywallers.

Whew!

The Gathering Storm

Wednesday night came along and there was a lot of fat, fluffy snowflakes with it. We haven't seen big, fat, fluffy snowflakes for a long time; most of what we've seen all winter has been those dry, powdery flakes that blow around with the wind like sand from a sandblaster and don't make much of a mess anywhere.

But this wet stuff- yuck! It just sits on the road and laughs at traction tires, spinning them six ways to Sunday.

Naturally, the big storm was scheduled to come in around 11 a.m. and Cheryl's car decided to pick up a hitch-hiking bolt on the way to work. She called me to let me know she might need me to come help out when it was time to leave (expecting, of course, that the tire would be flat by then) but I wasn't in the mood to wait around because the Storm was Coming.

So I skedaddled over to the school parking lot and pulled her tire off (which had an absolutely HUGE screw stuck right through the middle tread) and stuck the spare in its place

and then ran the other one over to Belle Tire where they do free tire repairs and waited thirty minutes in their lobby (alternating between looking at my watch and out the window the entire time) knowing that they weren't going to get it done before the snow started falling - and they didn't - so instead of racing back to the school and putting the repaired tire back on, I just went home and waited for Cheryl to get home because the wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped and the flakes were big and wet and cold and I am still getting over a recent illness so didn't feel like sitting out in the weather, preferring instead to wait til the car was safe and warm inside the garage.

Cheryl came home presently (after lunch - it was only a half day) and I went out and changed the tire back. Found out the spare was completely under-inflated. Supposed to be at 60 psi; it was only at 20. Stupid spare.

:::

The storm came in before noon and spent the evening and the next morning, only sputtering out of energy around 6 a.m.  It left a lot of pretty pictures.

The driveway is filled with cars. The cars are covered with snow.

There's a snow-covered kitty on the front porch keeping watch out for strangers. I don't think she's gong to see any, though, since her face is covered with snow.

The back deck has the best & deepest snow.

The trees look like they all had their hair frosted.

The kids (and Cheryl) got the day off school.

I spent the day trying to get ready for the framing inspector. He's coming on Friday.

Can I Take a Sick Day from Home?

Cheryl had this cold / virus / flu / whatever thing for a few weeks, hacking and coughing so bad that it was difficult for her to get any sleep, and it was a complete mystery why I didn't get it, too, considering our close physical proximity (we breathe each other's air!). But I'm grateful it avoided me. There was a lot of things that needed to be done around here and I couldn't really afford to be sick.

Not that I can afford to be sick now, but the cold / virus / flu thing that I've got now isn't nearly as potent or disruptive as the one she had. I'm not doing a lot of coughing. Just a lot of stuffy head, sneezy / drippy / body-ache kind of action, the kind that are taken care of with all these colorful medicines we have sitting in our pantry.

And it's fun trying to get things done around here when my head is floating in the clouds and my limbs feel like they weigh a million pounds and there is a very strong urge to just lie down and close my eyes...

The weather warmed up for a couple days, all the way up to 50 degrees, so it was time to go outside and enjoy it. The snow melted away, the wind started to blow, the old dry autumn leaves whirled around in the air and tried to hide in my garage (but I chased them out with a broom) and it was time to take a look at the Pontiac.

Brake problems.

Thought it was a classic case of bad brake booster. Press on the pedal, hear the wheezing sound of air escaping. Brake pedal hard to push, no assist when the car starts up. I was hoping it was just the check valve, but a quick test with my hand-pump proved that was not the case. Check valve working A-OK. Attached my pump directly to the booster and pulled a 20" vacuum. It held. Pressed the pedal, and it dropped to 10". OK, that worked. Pressed it again, dropped to 5". Hmmm. That's what it's supposed to do. Played around with it a bit more and it seemed to be working. Odd.

Well, enough playing with that, I have other things to do -- and now that Deb is driving her own car, Adam is driving the red Subaru, so I have some buffer time. Which is good. Because the basement is calling!

I'm going crazy trying to get the framing to the point where it feels ready for the inspection. I completed the headers, after going back and re-doing half of them because they weren't as well done as I had thought. The framing around the small bedroom door was whacky, with the opening at the bottom a whole inch wider than at the top. Took me a bit to figure out that the entire wall was slightly off-kilter, so had to go back all the way to the beginning of the wall to straighten it out. Then there was some trouble with the header above the library door not lining up properly. Found out one of the boards was an eighth of an inch off, and that threw everything off, so had to redo it.

The worst was the suite bedroom closet header because the side framing was mostly toe-nailed in, owing to the fact that the wall it was attached to had gaps. Found out while I was trying to mount it properly that the original framing wasn't level, either, so had to redo it completely. Took me about three hours to get it all straightened out and rebuilt. But now it looks great and feels good and solid.

The suite bedroom header was the easiest: just a single 32" two-by-four stuck between the top of the pre-hung door frame and the HVAC ventilation shaft. That took all of five minutes.

Still gotta finish up the header over the mechanical room door. 

Trippin'

It was a lovely drive down to Chicago, as always, and we thoroughly enjoyed the constant spray of road salt and mud that washed over the car, enabling us to fully test the capacity of the wiper fluid reservoir. Having tractor-trailer rigs on either side produced an amazingly exhilerating simulation of an X-wing flying through the Death Star trench as we attempted to not get blasted from the road.

At one point in our journey, we stopped at a fuel oasis along Interstate 80/90 to purchase a jug of wiper fluid because ours was nearly gone. Heaven help us if the fluid ran out just as a huge spray of salt hit the glass, reducing our visibility to zero just as we were rounding a curve along the highway!

Actually, though, it wouldn't have worried us because we had already experienced zero-visibility driving on our return trip from Texas last January. On that trip, we couldn't rely on visual clues to our location because of the deluge of water on our windshield, so we learned how to navigate by sonar, using the relative frequency of the sounds emanating from the sides of the car as we cruised between guardrails on the left and tractor-trailer rigs on the right. It's really not that hard. Once one finds the correct "tune", it's relatively easy to maneuver the wheel so as to stay equally distant from both.

The important thing is to keep the passengers from screaming, because those high frequencies sometimes form an interference pattern with the road noise and scramble the signal. That can be bad.

This time, thanks to copious application of wiper fluid every minute or so, we were able to keep the windshield clean. We arrived at the airport without incident.

For some unknown reason, though, we had forgotten to do our research on which terminal he would be flying from so we made the beginner mistake of stopping at the "International" terminal (which sounds kind of like it would involve "International" flights) only to discover that we were supposed to be at another terminal, even though technically James is taking an International flight. Not sure how that logic is supposed to work.

So we high-tailed it over to the other terminal using the cute little tram and it was only a few minutes before we were walking through the other terminal trying to figure out (again) where we were supposed to be going. Because there were millions of little kiosks out in the middle of the walkway begging us to use them to check in our bag, but not informing us as to which airline they were for. We did not want a stupid kiosk to handle his bag; we wanted a real person behind a counter!

Luckily, the AirBerlin staff showed up after a few minutes of wandering through the kioskian jungle, and they gladly took his bag and checked it in and then gave him his boarding pass and it only took a few minutes! And then, in a fabulous streak of luck that could only mean that the end of the world was approaching, the Security Lane right next to the counter opened up (which meant that we did not have to walk back to the other Security Lane which was jammed with hundreds of people) and James was able to stroll through at a very leisurely pace and disappear beyond the barriers in a very few moments.

No baggage issues this time. He and his mother had spent some quality time making sure that his bag was under the weight limit, even with all the precious things he was carrying. It was a huge relief to get his boarding pass so quickly!

After a tearful good-bye (well, we parents were tearful inside, anyway), we left the airport and drove back eastward towards Michigan to drop in on cousin Mike to find out what is going on with Uncle Bob and Aunt Susan.

Cousin Mike wasn't there when we arrived, but his lovely wife, Shawna, was there, and she graciously invited us in and entertained us until the rest of the family got there. First, Mike's son Andrew and his lovely wife, Erin, along with their charming twin daughters, Kayla and Kaliee; then, finally, Mike himself. Andrew & Erin cooked up a marvelous spaghetti dinner, so we all sat down and ate and yapped and had a wonderful time.

Except for the discussion of Bob & Susan. It wasn't one of those "everything is going to be all right" kinds of talks. Because Time does not stop or reverse, and Time is laying havoc to their physical bodies. Aunt Susan's cancer is being treated, but there is nothing they can do for her advancing dementia. E.g. she refuses to put her teeth in because she thinks they belong to someone else, thus it is difficult to get her to eat. Consequently, she has lost a lot of weight. As for Bob, he had surgery to remove the tumor that was causing the internal bleeding, but the after-effects of medications has left him confused and belligerent.

The family drives down every so often to see Bob, and they take care of Susan as much as possible, getting her to the doctor for weekly checkup/chemo. It is obviously exhausting for the family, which is why were down there, to see if there is anything we can do to help.

At this point, they're not sure what we can do, but they're going to let us know as soon as possible. So we're just waiting to get the word from Mike or Shawna. And praying. And hoping.

:::

Deborah and the rest of the Band/Orchestra students arrived at the High School late Tuesday night after a grueling 24-hour home from Florida. They were originally scheduled to get back by 9 pm, but inclement weather and other issues delayed them until nearly 11:30. We parents had been informed (via email) of their delays up to the point where they thought it would be 10:30, so we were all there in the parking lot waiting by 10:15. There were no subsequent emails or texts from the directors. But the buses didn't actually arrive until 11:30. Which made the last hour's wait a very tense one.

Naturally, it was snowing. The buses had encountered the snow first in northern Indiana, which slowed their progress. Then there were pit stops and mechanical issues and myriad other little things that came up. So by the time the buses appeared, the kids aboard were tired, anxious, and groggy with lack of sleep. Deb was no exception. Exhausted. Cranky. Complaining. And desperate to avoid school the next day.

As an experienced traveler, I could completely relate to that. So I granted her permission to sleep in. No one needs a cranky teenager in their class.

Funny how talkative she was when we got home, though. Seems like she was up another hour talking about all the fun (and drama) she had down in Florida.

I suppose it was just the adrenaline.

Ready ... Set ... Go!

Early in the morning before the sun has arisen we are awakened by the sound of a cat crying for its breakfast. This is a normal event because, as in all houses with small mammals of the feline variety, the whims of the cat determine the schedule of the house.

Her control of our schedule is most glaringly obvious when, for some reason, she does not adhere to it, and we wake in our beds with the most discomfited feeling, listening for a sound that is not forthcoming, aware that Something Is Not Right. And we begin to worry.

The cat is old. She sometimes does not feel well. For two days, she has been out of sorts. Our concern is such that we immediately notify the veterinarian (via the Cat Hot-Line installed by her cat post) and arrange an appointment, a "check-up", if you will.

For no house can survive for long with a cat out of sorts.

::

Deborah does not like getting up early, and she does it only with the understanding that no effort will be expended towards fashion on her way out the door. Her door opens at ten minutes prior to departure, and her apparel, while pleasing (mostly) to the eye, is intended for practicality rather than for purposes of eliciting compliments.

On the evening prior to her departure for Disney, she arranged all of her luggage downstairs by the front door so that it could be carried to the car with a minimum of time and effort. One rolling bag, one back-pack, one pillow, one blanket. When the time came to leave, her normal grumpy attitude was replaced with one of steadily increasing excitement. By the time we arrived at the school and made our way through the crowded hallways crammed with eager young band students to the back area where her luggage was to be temporarily stored, she was practically giggling with joy. Her friends, comrades in tribulations of both academic and musical, were gathered in little enclaves to discuss the forthcoming trip and the anticipation of each and every exhilarating moment.

The chaparones were walking around trying to organize themselves - or to find someone who was supposed to be organizing them all - so that they could carry out their duties with some authority (wherein it is greatly helpful to know something about what is going on before attempting to lead others in doing something about it).  The other parents, like myself, who had volunteered to assist in loading the buses so that the children and the chaparones could focus on more important matters (like loading themselves onto the buses) stood resolute, ready to do anything to get our children started on their journey on the road to Disney.

It was bitterly cold. When it was time to leave, the children were directed to load the buses as quickly as possible (especially owing to the fact that many of them were still wearing their pajamas in anticipation of sleeping during the early part of the trip). We baggage loaders used our puzzle-solving skills to stack the luggage underneath the buses in the open compartments to maximize efficiency; we also packed all the instruments that were going to be needed for the performances. It was a hurried, frenzied affair. And, naturally, there were last-minute deliveries that had to be stuffed into whatever open space might be found.

But we did it. Everyone - and everything - was stowed away, ready for the journey.

And then the bus doors closed, the engines roared, and they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road on their way to Florida. Warm, sunny, non-freezing Florida.

And Disney.

::

For those of us who remained, we had a pleasant evening attending the Student Art Show downtown at the Grand Rapids Art Museum (GRAM) where Mary's work was to be displayed. We arrived to find the Museum already crowded with patrons. Apparently, ours was not the only show in town! (It must be noted that Admission is free on Thursday nights, which might also explain the crowded conditions.)

We walked downstairs to the gallery where the students' works were displayed. It was crowded there, too, but much of that was due to the fact that it was a very small room, and much space was taken up by the table of cookies and punch. A bit too much, if you ask me. It was almost as though they had given no thought to the fact that if the parents of half the students showed up at the same time to view their darlings' work, there would not be sufficient room for anyone to stand, let alone observe a work of art.

Nevertheless, we moved around as best we could, looking at some of the pieces hanging on the wall and reading the notes on each one, biding our time until all those other yahoos could clear a path so that we could get to the main attraction, which was Mary's piece. I don't know why they were even bothering to look at any other work. Hers was obviously superior to anything else that was presented.

Or at least that's the way I looked at it.

We weren't able to stay very long; the crowd was just too pressing. Naturally, at the moment we were attempting to leave, Mary's art teacher arrived and persuaded her to return to her work so that she could be photographed with it. Alas, we had already taken enough pictures so the majority of us left the three of them (Adam bravely decided to remain with his sister) to fight the current and make their way back to the display wall whilst we dashed upstairs to get some more breathing room.

Mary and Adam eventually returned and it might have been our decision to hurry at once to the restaurant to eat had we been any less than true patrons of the Arts, but we chose instead to spend a happy hour or so wandering through the exhibit rooms enjoying the fine pieces which had been laid out for our inspection. Fabrics, pottery, watercolors (my favorite), clay masks, oils - all so very pleasing, all so relaxing. I could've wandered there for days had there been more to see.

But our appetites would not be quenched. We walked across the street to one of our favorite little haunts, the Angel Thai restaurant, and proceeded to enjoy a marvelous buffet dinner of savory soups, choice noodles, rice, and assorted meats, served with a bracing pot of hot jasmine tea.

Mischievious as we were, we sent a picture of our delicious repast to Deb, who was apparently lying in the middle of the bus aisle in a self-made "nest" eating snacks provided by her friends and looking forward to a long night with very little sleep. She thanked us kindly for our thoughtfulness and then reminded us that she was going to be playing at Disney. Nyah! So we had our just reward.

Then we proceeded at length to depart the restaurant and head home. It had been a long and fruitful day.

Getting Ready

We're getting ready for a lot of different things this week.

Thursday morning, Deb heads off on her Disney trip with the band and orchestra groups.

Next Monday, James heads off to Germany.

Cheryl needs to find some other Band parent to take over as president of the Band and Orchestra Boosters group.

We're putting together a preliminary schedule for the trip down to Austin in April.

I'm treating the rust on the Camry windshield frame so we can get the glass installed and Deb can start driving it.

I'm also completing the framing in the basement so we can get that inspection done and commence with the insulation and drywall.

Oh, and there's work, too.

It's one of those weeks.

::

The band and orchestra performed their Disney concert last night for the parents so we could all hear what we will not be able to hear all the way from Florida. Deb is playing with the Wind Ensemble and Orchestra. She claims it is all "easy" music and not very challenging. Of course, she knows what she is doing. It sounded a bit more than easy to me, but then I can only play guitar.

Deb Practices for the Performance

Thursday morning, bright and early at oh-dark-thirty, they will be gathering at the school and packing all their luggage into the luxury buses and making themselves as comfortable as it is possible to get while sitting in a bus for twenty-four hours, then drive off into the sunrise for a few days of fun and frolic (and intense musical seminars) while the rest of us continue our drab, dreary lives in the Michigan winter. They'll come back with tans; we'll get frostbite from the blizzard that is supposed to come in on Saturday.

Deb's big worry? She's going to miss a couple college classes. She's really enjoying being a college student, even if it's only half-time.

She'll have to say good-bye to James before she goes because he's leaving on Monday and the bands won't be returning from Florida til Tuesday. And he's all excited about it. Won't stop talking about it. His smile gets bigger every day with anticipation. Oh, to be young and in love!

(Yeah, I'm old and in love, but it's not quite the same thing. I've a lot less energy than I used to, for one thing. Plus I'm not as fashionable.)

Now we'll just have to wait and see how things go out there when his classes start and it comes time for him to convert from a tourist visa to a student visa.  I'm still worried about it. But then I worry about everything.

::

Cheryl has been president of the Band and Orchestra Boosters for a year or so now and is quite ready to give the privilege to someone else. (It's in the bylaws that the president has to be the parent of an active Band student, so even if she wasn't ready, she has no choice once Deb graduates.) But she is having great difficulty finding someone willing to take over. In fact, she's been having trouble finding parents who are willing to volunteer for any of the open positions in the organization. There's lots of jobs that need someone to manage them, from the little one-day events to the big fundraisers. Most of the people we work with are parents of seniors and they'll all be gone next year. But everyone is so busy these days ...

I still haven't found anyone to take over my position as Pit Crew Chief. But that's because I've been trying to find someone as obsessed with perfection as myself, doing everything the Right Way, not doing anything half-way. It was so frustrating with my crew this past year trying to motivate them to look past the needs of the moment and work on things that would help us in years to come -- like installing storage shelves in the trailer so all our gear wasn't just scattered all over the floor (as it has been in years past). Most of them were content to just show up for the events and load the gear on the carts and get it out to the field and then bring it back and load it back onto the trailer and then call it a night and go home. Most of the repairs and fixes we did were last-minute, just enough to get things working for that evening. It was so frustrating. But everyone is so busy these days ...

The keys will be handed to someone else before the end of the school year. That's the rule. I'm just not sure to whom yet.

::

We decided not to fly down to Austin for the wedding after checking prices. $400 per ticket adds up very quickly when it is multiplied by the number of people in our family. Apparently, too, there's something about traveling during Spring Break that tends to drive up prices. Oh, if only the train was affordable!

After the last trip down to Abilene, though, a little drive down to Austin should be no big shakes, especially if the weather is decent. Seriously. After driving two days through the pouring rain, not being able to see anything in front of us, a nice jaunt in early Spring will be a piece of cake.

We hope.

Looking over the route, we decided to venture a little more eastward than usual, putting us in close proximity to Nashville, which means we FINALLY get a chance to drop in on Aunt Judy and Uncle Clyde. Which hasn't happened. Ever. And since my favorite memories of my childhood trips with my family involved dropping in on friends and relatives (which Mom and Dad seem to have everywhere), I decided it would be the thing to do. Of course, we could also add stops in Huntsville and Bloomington and Edwardsburg, but if there are too many stops, the kids will start freaking out because they're afraid of missing school. Not sure where they get that from. But anyway it will be nice to visit some family along the way.

::

The Camry is still sitting in the garage with the halogen lamp strategically placed on the hood facing the windshield frame, keeping the frame relatively warm while the rust converter & rust primer treatments cure.

Curing the Problem?

Once those are cured and ready, it'll be time for 2 coats of enamel (with a bit of sanding in-between) to get the metal ready to support the urethane sealer they'll be using when they mount the new windshield.

I hope.

::

The basement is still not going as quickly as I had hoped, but there are issues almost every time I start working on it again. This time, it was the bathroom door. I was hanging the door so as to get the proper measurements for the header and having a difficult time of it because the door wasn't lining up correctly. The top of the opening was measuring 29-1/2" and the bottom was 31-1/4". Um. That doesn't make any sense. Especially when both the studs along the sides of the door were perfectly level. What is the issue?

Turns out it was the wall next to the bathroom door. Not the mechanical room wall that Dad did -- that one was rock solid. No, it was the back wall that I did a few years ago. It was actually twisted so that the bottom plate didn't line up with the top plate. So the 1-foot extension I had added to the wall to form the door frame was out-of-line with the run of the wall. Ended up having to detach the back wall and re-attach it correctly, then everything lined up. And voila! The bathroom door works now.

Lack of Progress Today

The problem with having a lot to do and not much time to do it in, is that there are already too many distractions which occur during the day. So even on a normal day, I can't get enough done around here.

The day started off well with Mary and myself getting up early so that she could get to her ACT by 7:30 a.m. (the test started at 8). After I dropped her off at the school where the test was taking place, I headed over to the Big Boy's Toy Store, aka Harbor Freight, to check out some sand-blasting tools which might be of use in attending to the rust problem.

They supposedly have a sandblasting nozzle with a reservoir that can be used to sandblast small rusted things. (Admittedly, the top of the windshield frame isn't exactly small, but it can be done given enough time.) And I was thinking about getting it. But ... reading the instructions on the sandblasting tools, it soon because obvious that my pitiful little 6 gallon compressor isn't nearly powerful enough to provide the pressure required for the job. The nozzle requires a minimum of 6 Cubic Feet per Minute (CFM) of airflow @ 90 psi, whereas my little Bostitch only puts out about 2.6 (S)CFM. Not even close.

Apparently, what I need is one of those monster 80-gallon compressors that puts out nearly 16 CFM @ 90 psi. Unfortunately, it comes along with a monster price.

So that will have to wait for another day.

In the meantime, it was time to head home so as to start on the basement work for the day. It was mid-morning already. Late! So it was important to hit the ground running, get my plans updated and then start implementing them.

The first task was fixing the bedroom doorway, which was about an inch and a half too narrow for the door we had chosen. I had to pull out the short framing section between the door and the back wall and re-cut the bottom and top plates; and besides the complication of it being the frame section containing the light switch, there was also the problem that the studs were both so twisted that it took quite a bit of doing to get all the screws put in place in such a way as to hold the desired shape.

Once that had been accomplished, it was time to hang the bathroom door. I had to put up some trimmer studs on either side of the doorframe because the opening was huge (32.5 inches for a 29-inch pre-hung door), and it all went well except that the door didn't hang right. One side was about 1/16 of an inch too high, even though I'd used the same section of flooring to rest both sides upon. And then my tape measure was complaining that the top of the frame was narrower than the bottom, even though my level confirmed that both sides were equally straight. Confound it! My brain couldn't handle it, so I moved on to the next task.

On the back wall, I had made a stupid error by building the bedroom suite wall up against the drywall on the back wall The framing guy says we're not supposed to build framing on top of drywall. I guess it's aesthetically unpleasant or something. So I had to cut out the drywall between the studs where the bedroom wall intersects the back wall. And that took some doing. I don't have a good tool for cutting through the drywall so had to use my utility knife. And the idiots who built the house used Liquid Nails to bond the drywall to the studs. Which meant that while I was being very careful to extract all the screws out of the drywall in order to avoid breaking it, as soon as I started to get it "loose", the drywall broke all apart since the back paper was stuck. Ooh, that made me angry!

Had to do that in two places, actually: one for the small bedroom, and one for the big bedroom.

After all that, it was suddenly six o'clock and time for dinner. And I was through working on the house for today.

With very little to show for it.

And tomorrow I need to figure out how to deal with the rust on the Camry windshield frame.

No New Window Today

Well, that was disappointing.

The Safelite tech came over this afternoon to replace the windshield on Deb's Camry but was unable to complete the job because there was too much rust on the window frame.

We had noticed the tinge of rust around the top edge of the window frame when we got the car, but were hoping it hadn't gotten too bad yet. I was actually hoping I'd get a chance to clean it up when the guy came over to replace the glass.

Turns out I'm going to get my chance.

The Safelite tech was real nice about. In fact, he said it happens all the time, especially out here in Michigan when rust is a common occurrence on cars due to salt on the roads.

I was able to see how he took the old windshield off. There's this really cool tool with a hand crank and a metal cutting line that wraps around the windshield and slices through the adhesive without requiring any prying. Took him about ten minutes to set it up, then about a minute to actually remove the glass.

He said he could tell that the windshield had been replaced before because whoever put it on used the wrong adhesive. Instead of urethane, which has been the industry standard for billions of years, they used butyl, which is not as good - by about a factor of 10. Only the small (i.e. cheap) shops use butyl, apparently. And amateurs.

Once he got the glass off, we took a good look at the top edge of the frame and -- yuck. Pretty rusty. Normally, he said, if they notice rust around the frame, they have their customers take the car to a body shop where they'll remove the glass and then have the body shop clean up the frame right there on the spot so they can continue with the glass install. But in my case, I just told him I'd go ahead and clean it up and give him a call when it's ready, then he'll bring the glass with him and install it.

May take me a few days to get some time to clean it up good. Gotta wirebrush the rust off, then sand it good and give it a couple coats of primer. So might not happen til next week.

Meanwhile, I was able to get the driver door handle replaced, so that's working.

But I also removed the radio to find out why the speakers aren't working.

Man, I love taking cars apart!

Cheryl's Tax Class

With three of the children either actively or recently employed, Cheryl decided to sit them all down this evening for an Income Tax class. They all got to sit at the table with their laptops as she took them through the Turbo Tax site, using all those mysterious W-2 and W-4 and Earned Income and Interest Earned papers they received from their banks and/or their employers to fill out the tax forms on-line and get ready to submit them.

This growing up and becoming an adult thing is really fun! Especially when you have a mother who can teach you all the things you need to know in order to survive.

I'm still waiting for the kids to ask me about car repairs and basement building techniques and electrical engineering and computer programming, but none of them have shown any interest, so there really isn't any point to my existence other than keeping the bank account from becoming empty. I'm still pinning my hopes on when they all start families of their own and someone eventually calls me up to ask about proper diapering methods.

Other than that, the auto glass guy is coming tomorrow to replace the windshield on the Camry so Deb will start driving it instead of Ruby; and the framing for the basement bathroom closet is finished; and Cheryl and I attended a 6th grade band concert at one of the middle schools tonight.

And there was a thunderstorm, complete with thunder and lightning and hail, and it washed away all of the remaining snow. And the storm drains are clogged up and there are huge puddles in the middle of the streets, and some of the stoplights weren't working. And people forgot how to deal with 4-way stops. Again.

  

Progress Comes in Small Packages

I would like to say that great progress was made this past weekend; and it is true that some progress was made. But on the timetable I had hoped to achieve, the amount of progress was not quite what I had hoped for.

I put together a montage of the first phase of the bedroom closet construction, which took far longer than I had anticipated mainly due to the number of distractions which occurred.

I put together another montage to show the amount of progress on the second phase. This took longer than I had anticipated due to the number of little issues that came up during the construction, mostly in the matter of things I had not foreseen when coming up with the original drawings.

But now it is done and I can turn to the other remaining framing issues, which include the bathroom closet and the bedroom closet door and the library door header and the back wall shelf which needs to be put back together.

I'm hoping that those will be completed by the end of the week.

Meanwhile, when I'm not actually working (i.e. doing the things that actually bring money into the house), I'm also fixing the things that need to be fixed on Deb's new car -- like the side mirror, the blower motor resistor pack, the driver door handle, the tail light, the parking brake, the exhaust system (just a tiny leak) and the windshield. Well, actually, I'm not going to fix the windshield myself, I'm just going to call the windshield repair people and have them do it. In our driveway.

We all took a break on Friday night to not do anything in the way of work or homework or anything. Cheryl and I went out to dinner and then a Symphony concert; the kids stayed home and watched movies. On Saturday, Deb and Cheryl performed at the Solo / Ensemble Festival at the HIgh School and we celebrated by having Papa Murphy's pizza and watching The Shop Around the Corner (again).

On Sunday, Cheryl stayed home (because she was till coughing up a storm) and Mary helped me with Sunday School and then I got to work in the 2's & 3's because one of the kids was clingy and wanted to hold on to a "daddy" type of person, and I was there. After half an hour of holding him, he finally felt good enough to go play with the other kids (and having a snack didn't hurt!).

And then on Sunday afternoon, the weirdest thing happened: a U.S. Post Office truck showed up at our house to deliver the side mirror and driver door handle for Deb's car. I've never in my life experienced a U.S. Post Office delivery on a Sunday. It was bizarre!

But it was also very nice, because I was able to spend an hour or so before Small Group installing the side mirror and feeling like I'd made just a little bit more progress!