Despite a scheduling kerfuffle this weekend, our living room has seen steady progress over the past few days. As in tomorrow, it should be finished. Or so we hope.

Let me take you back to Monday. ( hidden to protect the uninterested )

I'm heading out to a local Democrats gathering, so it's unlikely I'll be posting a pictorial update on the living room. I will, however, tell you this: the ceiling is painted. Next: all the trim (and there's a lot) and the walls. That's right: I chose a color. All by myself. Actually, I chose four and then asked S'nP Mike what he thought, he suggested two entirely different colors and I chose one of them.

What? It still counts.

There are both plastic and canvas drop cloths on the living room floor. I'm glad I warned S'nP Mike that they wouldn't be nice and neat come tomorrow afternoon, because Handsome Tom is alternately racing through the room and screeching to a halt so he can slide and spin.

Ah, well. At least he's not covered with paint.

Yet.

We're in a bit of a holding pattern. S'nP Mike has, I think, finished spackling. In addition to tending the seams and nail holes in the ceiling, he's also repaired the corners that were covered by strips of rounded molding as well as some of the more noticeable bumps and divots in our inarguably wonky walls. Honestly. This house. One of these days I might just take you on a photo tour of where doors once were, or the many textures and levels of flooring, or the electrical outlets (spoiler alert: one's in a door frame!). Heavens forfend I set a level down anywhere. The point is, though, that all of this spackling now will ultimately yield a much smoother surface when we come to project's end.

( Read more )



Next up is sanding, then priming, then fixing the numerous gaps and irregularities prior to painting (which will include not only the ceiling and walls, but also the doors and ALL of the trim. I am ridiculously excited). Part of me wants to paint that long wall with chalkboard paint and always have a tub of colored chalk at hand. Another part of me - the one that's paying to have these walls professionally painted - is looking at warm, simple, cozy colored paint chips. More on that tomorrow!



†I made that up, but please don't tell anyone. Let's see how long it takes for that bit of misinformation to go viral! I've done my duty and tweeted it.

Let me tell you about my friend Cat. She's funny as all hell, smart, talented, stalwart and far, far cooler than I could ever dream of being. And here's one more reason I love her:

In lieu of a "Look at my ceiling!" post, I'm going to share with you the reactions my kitties have had to the current project.

( click! )

Let me tell you a story. Last winter, my husband approached my fabulously talented contractor brother-in-law with a simple question: how much would it cost to fix the exposed cement/embedded stovepipe behind our kitchen stove? And we ended up with a fully remodeled kitchen.

~*~The End~*~

The saga of 'FrankenHouse Gets a New Ceiling' isn’t going to be anywhere near as rich and layered. We’re not ripping down the sheet rock from the walls; we’ve not called in the electricians (though I wish we were able. *dreamy sigh!*), we’re not tearing up the flooring. There’s no need to call the tile guy, or the plumber, or the stone people (who were not, for the record, trolls. I asked). If you’re a homeowner or someone who's done repairs on any living space, you’ll understand this: there is no such thing as a simple home improvement project.*

But more on that later.


( On to the carnage! )

A few things to tide you over until the next exciting installment of FrankenHouse Gets a New Ceiling!:

~turns out my day off wasn't. I taught this evening, which meant plans to leisurely cobble together some sort of dinner weren't in the cards. It's not that I mind planning meals; I just don't like the stealth attack.

~my grocery store has a butcher counter. which, of course, but when would I think to use it? other than today, clearly, so many thanks to Mike for cutting a lovely (and very reasonably priced) pork shoulder roast just for me!

~pulled pork in the slow cooker = super easy + crazy yummy. In addition, consider this: oven roasted sweet potato fries, lightly toasted multigrain rolls and homemade coleslaw. In your eye, leisurely cobbling! (apologies to hobbyist shoemakers)

~this whole living room thing is WAY less exciting than the kitchen remodel. I expect that when we start digging into the walls (at some far removed date), we'll have all manner of wacky tales. For now, though, it's mostly a bowed ceiling, unexplained shims and random panelling. There haven't even been any mouse corpses. *grumps*

~HT really hates hiding away in the basement for twelve hours. Jilly's pretty keen on his doing so.

~Cardio-kickboxing is mad fun, and you should all come take a class at my gym. I've got free passes!

~this icon has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I'm likely retiring it soon and I feel it deserves it's day in the sun.

~oh, right! I did a mini-cull of my friendslist. Mostly people who have been inactive for a good long while (Hayes? Do. Not. Fret.).

The first time we set foot in our quirky wee house, we were charmed by several things: the wood stove, the big bay window, and the wainscoted ceiling. It gave the main living space a warm, cozy feeling. After a few years, cozy turned to claustrophobic and warm became "what was the previous owner thinking?" This feeling only intensified when, as part of our great kitchen remodel, we completely redid the ceiling. Suddenly - magically, even - that tiny room seemed larger, brighter, airier, and though we only gained a few inches in height, it looked significantly taller. Headroomier, if I might say.

Don and I knew that someday we'd want to bite the bullet and do the same for the living room ceiling.


( That day has come. )

Operation: Encourage Don to Like Brussels Sprouts is underway. Though my darling dear is a far more adventurous eater than I, there are certain foods that - thanks to previous uninspiring* exposure - he has long been certain he doesn't like. Asparagus. Steak. Nutella.

All right, maybe not that last one.

As chance would have it, Brussels sprouts were on sale at my local store this week. I think it was awomanthatsblue suggested roasting them; I'm totally on board with that. Of course I can look up recipes, but if anyone has personal experience with this particular veggie, feel free to share! Otherwise I'm going to toss them with olive oil, salt and pepper and pop 'em in a 400 degree oven for 20-30 minutes... just see if I don't.


*He didn't realize asparagus isn't naturally stringy, nor that properly cooked steak isn't meant to be shoe-leather tough.

How would I accomplish anything without kitties to help?

*le sigh*

It is grey and raining and blustery in SnowWhiteLand. While I wouldn't want this weather for days on end, it's rather nice. I was forced to stay indoors and face up to the huge, hulking clutter-monster that is (or rather, was) my office. There are still far too many books to be dealt with; I can't even think about the bags and boxes in the attic. If I had the time, though, and a ready stream of postage, I'd set to the next giveaway at once. For now, they're boxed up and pushed to the side. I'm going to need as much available floor space as I can muster since... no. No, I'll wait to tell you all about that on Monday.

Mess though it was, I couldn't stretch out the office project all day, so I moved on to the next eyesore: my closet. Actually, my entire side of the bedroom, but I had to start somewhere. I emptied the entire thing, top to bottom, got rid of shoes I've not worn in the past several years, set summer clothes aside and sorted through everything else. For someone who hates clothes shopping, I've amassed a fair amount, and yet wear the same few things 'til they're falling apart. Then I put some safety pins in the gaps and wear them some more. I simply HATE how most things look on me. I blame my stumpy torso and big hips. Stupid disproportionate body. In any event, I've a full large trash bag of clothes to take to the Salvation Army drop, where I will use my freakishly small hands to heave them into the bin.

I went through my jewelry box (matching up earrings, pulling the twenty nine pounds of pewter pins and scads of pirate-y jewelry I NEVER WEAR and putting them with my costume pieces), cleaned off the top of my dresser (I found nine pens and three knives - one folding utility, two mini Swiss Army - under the clutter) and put the rest of my laundry away - neatly, no less! - into semi-organized drawers.

There's still my night stand to attack, with it's towering pile of fitness and cooking magazines, half a dozen books, Lush lotion (Don bought me Dream Cream and bath bombs this week; I think I'll keep him), 3-in-1 oil, crinkly kitty toys (handy for distracting HT when he's bullying Jilly) and my teeny tiny alarm clock. Then there's the heap of bags and target mitts and extra grappling gloves behind the stand-up mirror. Oh, and the pile of stuff alongside the wall on my side of the bed.

I need to keep going. I must de-clutter.

Not, however, tonight. In about half an hour we're headed to Coquito's to have cocktails and tapas and watch an awesome local candidate's televised debate. Tomorrow's not looking good, either, since I have kickboxing first thing and then I'll be moving things into my office from... oh, that's right. I'm waiting until Monday to share that news. Which will, no doubt, be a let down after my ham handed attempt at building suspense.

Today marked the final leg of Book Giveaway Aught Nine.

I tried to make it easy. I poked my head in to the post office lobby, and there was no one waiting...

... until I stepped up to the counter with my paltry four packages. I'd already filled out the customs forms, so in theory it was smooth sailing. Oh, except for the bit where if it's over four pounds, you need to fill out another form entirely. D'oh! Now, that might not have been so great a deal had the postal worker not called out to the person behind me (who'd clearly snuck in) that it would be but a few minutes. "That's okay," she replied, "I know Kelly's really organized."

Oh, gracious. It was someone from the gym. I stammered an apology, then turned back to the postal worker who - as chance would have it - was the selfsame gent who'd waited on me when I mailed the twenty or so parcels a few days prior. Now, in that process, he'd asked what I was mailing. Natural curiosity. When I mentioned it was books, we hit on the subject of reading, and how it came so naturally to some and not so much to others. He mentioned a certain author he liked, saying it was hard to find someone to match that style.

--Little known fact: you can take the girl out of the bookstore, but you're hard pressed to take the bookseller out of the girl.--

I mulled for a moment and came up with a possible author he ought to try. Long story only slightly less long: on this second visit, he let me know he'd checked out this Other Author and had requested a couple of books from the library. While I was delighted to know I'd made a match (compatibility to follow, for I'm certain he's going to let me know once he actually reads the Other Authors' books), there was a growing line in the lobby... some of whom see me sweaty and disheveled on a regular basis.

At last, my transactions were complete. Heads up to those in Canada and New Zealand: your books are on their way! (though don't expect them to arrive too quickly; I confess I chose the cheapest rate).

So. To all who chose books in this latest giveaway, I hope you're pleased. To those who asked for whatever I might wish to send, I hope you've a sense of humor. Some of what I sent was solely for the lulz. Some of it was what I loved. Some of it was toss up, as in stuff I'd never read. Might be good, might be crap. Whatever the case, I'm always delighted to place books into new hands. Here's hoping you enjoy.

Look for the next giveaway in the new year!

point: I am a decent(ish) writer.

point: I've not written much of anything in far, far too long.

point: I need a serious kick-start.*

point: NaNoWriMo is but two weeks away.

conclusion: meep?



*that, and a HUGE dose of confidence. Or an injection of "Stop being lame and afraid and pathetic." Since medical professionals are focused, and rightly so, on the upcoming flu season, this really isn't much of an option.

I was a big hit at the post office, today! Who doesn't love standing behind the person sending out twenty one parcels? Actually, I checked the lobby beforehand (empty save one person), and divided the packages in two installments (primarily because I couldn't carry them all at once, but let's pretend it was out of consideration for other customers). As for the poor lady who was behind me and just wanted to buy two stamps? Well, of course I urged her to step ahead of me.

Canadians and New Zealanders, you were not in this lot. I did bring customs forms home, though, so that'll make things considerably easier. With any luck, I'll get yours out Friday.

melebeth, tomincloset and harpiegirl4 will receive theirs in person. :)

To all those who claimed books: my apologies. I've been terribly far behind in getting them wrapped up and posted. As of this moment, I've got nineteen parcels piled up in the corner. Only six more to go! I won't hit the post office until Monday, and even then I'm going to be doing this in installments. Please bear with me!


p.s. I miss Maria's dad on The Sarah Jane Adventures. *pets icon*

I'm still too scattered for a full LJ post, with paragraph breaks and proper grammar and spelling. It's wild times here at Kelly's LJ, and no mistake!

Today is October 16th, which means yesterday was October 15 - when it snowed. A lot. Sort of a big deal for my neck o' the woods. Between that and the narrow brown bands on our local wooly bears, I'm thinking this winter is going to be ever so snowy...

... so it's a good thing we finally got our delivery of firewood! A goodly amount isn't quite as seasoned as we'd like, but it's here and waiting to be carted over to the woodshed for last minute splitting (for those unwieldy bits) and stacking (it's like Jenga - IN REVERSE!). There's about four cords' worth, and since Don is stuck working this weekend (not even from home; he has to trek into NYC), I'll be doing a whole lot of hauling.

Did I mention it snowed yesterday? 'Cause there's still a whole lot of activity in the cricket and spider communities. Not that it stopped me from shifting the old woodpile today. Okay, it totally did. I shrieked and ran, hands flapping uselessly. The big stuff I can deal with. Little leaping/crawling/scuttling things? Thanks, but NO.

In keeping with the 'it's getting chilly here' theme, HT has come to a decision. When he was still outdoors, he'd curl up on my lap and burrow his head into whatever oversized fleece or flannel thing I was wearing. Once we brought him in, he eschewed laps altogether... until yesterday. He'd hopped up on my desk and was mid-trek to the top of the bookcase when he stopped, looked at me, and considered. Then, he stepped down and curled his enormous, solidly muscled frame onto my lap. I sat, stunned. He butted his head against my arm to let me know the skritching could commence. I'd call it an anomaly, but he did it again today. It's all kinds of fun to watch him try to fit himself onto the available lap space. Tom is one big cat.

Right, then. Off to get a fire going in the woodstove. 'Cause it's getting chilly here. And I have firewood to burn.

Attention all who took part in my most recent book giveaway: please post your name and mailing info here. All comments are screened.

Before you do so, however, I urge you to go back and take a look at what's still unclaimed. There's some great stuff there, as well as some books that may well be delightful... would that I had read them, and could tell you one way or the other. In any event, I hate to see books go without a home.

Expect the first lot of parcels to hit the post this weekend; the rest will be sent as I can put them together. Many of you have offered to defray my shipping costs; while that's very kind, I'd have no idea as to how to make it work. So thank you, but I'll happily teach a few extra classes and know that I'm ushering books into the hands of deserving readers.

In brief:

PARF was brilliant. Ever so much music-making, gorgeously brisk fall weather, tasty and (comparatively) cheap food, pristine restrooms, warm and welcoming cast, crew and crafters. Also, Surprise!Cara and the always awesome Coyote Run.

Facebook can bite me.

Kitty détente is experiencing a bit of a setback.

So many books to be read. SO MANY! I keep giving them away, and more keep piling up. Will someone please pay me to read whilst eating apple-and-Nutella crepes for forty hours a week? The crepes are negotiable.

I'm itching to try my hand at knitting once more, but I'm painfully clumsy with crochet. I suspect that knitting=heartache and humiliation for me.

A more responsible lifestyle starts tomorrow! Exercise! Smart nutritional choices! Positive thinking! I even bought my yearly yogurt. Maybe this time I'll be able to force it down. Stupid vile aftertaste.

Here we go! All I ask is that, for shipping purposes, you keep your requests to a reasonable number. Thanks, and have fun!

( Books! )