Waiting for Whiteout

National Weather Service: "Winter storm warning remains in effect until 6 a.m. CST Tuesday…Expect snow to develop around noon and then diminish around 6 a.m. Tuesday. The heaviest snowfall rates will occur between noon and 8 p.m. this evening. Total accumulations of 8 to 12 inches are expected. Look for significant reductions in visibility to as low as 1/4 mile…due to a combination of snow and blowing snow. Traffic will be very difficult to impossible…especially for the evening commute." Hot damn.

It's about 10:30 a.m. and I'm just kind of waiting. I called Mark at Eagle Eye to make sure I was on his list of properties they clear after a snow storm, since we had only talked about it when he was here last. He did have me down, so anytime there's a snowfall over 2 inches, he comes and clears it automatically.

I think winter is finally here. Daytime highs are in the mid- to upper-20s all this week, and lows on several nights are expected to dip into the single digits. And I'm really enjoying it. I'd forgotten how brisk and alive cold weather makes me feel.

A Swarm of celebrating Solbergs

Glen (lower right) oversees the present giving Xmas Eve.

Sister-in-law Pam has been taking care of me from a distance. She brought over an old heavy coat of Steve's for me to wear until I get one of my own. She also brought over some loaner gloves for me, though I haven't used them yet.

Speaking of Christmas, it has come and gone. Christmas Eve was held at the house in Ettrick. It was pretty much a Solberg event, and there are lots of them! Pater familias  Glen proudly says, "Six kids, ten grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren." Glen's recovering from a stay in hospital, and I could tell that having the kids around really lifted his heart, though they did wear him out over the course of the evening.

Most of the gifts were for the kids, who really did a great job staying civil and polite with all those new toys.

After the kids finish opening their presents, the adults have a Chinese Auction, where everyone brings a gift. Numbers are chosen from a hat; number 1 picks a gift. Number 2 can pick another gift or they can "steal" the gift number 1 opened. Number 3 can choose a present or "steal" from 1 or 2. After being stolen twice, a gift becomes unstealable. And so it goes until all presents are disbursed.

It's not such a bad little tree.

After everything's been unwrapped and all the stealing has occurred, you can always negotiate with someone. I swapped my gift for one Emily had gotten (Amanda picked it as her proxy, since Emily and Jim had to leave to go to another gathering). So I swapped with Emily and ended up with a Charlie Brown Christmas tree (from the TV special) with one red ornament. It speaks to me.

Christmas Day and Saturday I spent at home, watching all the Christmas programming that I've been recording on the DVR: The Simpsons Christmas specials, South Park Christmas specials, and a number of films ("The Bishop's Wife," "Miracle on 34th St." "A Christmas Carol," etc.). Spent some time missing family and weeping over loss. Not a lot of time, though.

I'm finding that letting out a minute or two of weepy sadness will vastly improve my frame of mind for the next couple days. If I sit on the grief, it can ruin a whole week or more and send me into spirals. So crying is like an emotional laxative for me, a real soul movement, keeping things regular.

Sunday, the McDougal branch of the family reassembled in Ettrick for yet another Christmas celebration, this time exchanging gifts with the immediate family. Ettrick had gotten some snow (in La Crosse it had been misty rain), and there was ice on the road in front of their house, so I spent some time practicing turning and sliding the car on the ice before I parked. It felt very familiar from my years in Alaska, and I realized the skills were still there, just needing to be reawakened and honed.

Being my first holiday gift giving here, I stayed safe and got people gift cards to Menard's (Pam's and Avis' favorite store), which is Wisconsin's version of Home Depot (only much nicer, with almost anything you could think of under one roof). Pam gave me a pair of gloves, which is nice, because I my hands were freezing for most of the drive out there (30 miles). I also got a blanket for the car, which joins the ice scraper that Amanda gave me as a welcome present back in April. I already had the car winterized back in November, so I think I'm ready to go.

•  •  •  •  •

I just checked the Doppler radar on my phone, and the wall of snow is almost here. I'm snug in my house, waiting to watch this all unfold, wondering what Patty's reaction will be.

Speaking of Patty, she got a Christmas gift as well. It's a stocking that says "Santa's Favorite Cat" (now she has one to hang on the mantle). Inside were with three tiny fleece pillows filled with catnip. I left the pillows inside the stocking so she wouldn't lose them under the sofa. She loves her present and has been drooling and squirming over it, attacking it. I don't think I've seen her this worked up since we moved in.

•  •  •  •  •

I look up at the window and tiny snowflakes are drifting through the air, already accumulating on the ground and rooftops. The car is safely stowed in the garage, so I can avoid scraping and sweeping snow the next time I want to go out. But I've got all the provisions I need for the next several days, and plan to watch this all from my place here near the fire.

Wrap

Yes, it's the Christmas blog entry, with the traditional opening and closing videos for your enjoyment.

It's been two months since I put anything down here. I've been in some dark, reflective spaces during that time, all of them relating to Steve's death and two years of transitions. One of the reasons I took a year off from work was to have this time to do this mourning, beyond my physical relocation. And I've been doing a lot of it since the anniversary of Steve's death.

Natalie likes to build forts on the sectional.

I also realized well over a year ago that people just really don't want to be around that. They have genuine concern, but it is evident immediately that personal mourning is not something you can pass around and share with others. It's something you wade through on your own. So there are good days when things get done and there are bad days when I ponder my own mortality and wonder how much time I've got left in this new home.

But no matter how dark I get, I haven't gotten anywhere near suicidal, which is something mourning tends to bring up. No, I don't want to go away. I want this transition phase to be over. And I think that the New Year will bring that, especially when I pay my first year of taxes on the house.

Halloween gala costume winners

The weather has been  unbelievably mild, with highs in the upper 30s to mid-40s. Evening clouds keep the heat in, and it has rarely dropped below freezing at night. There was one period of a few days when the highs were in the upper 20s and it dropped into the teens at night. We got an inch or so of snow which stuck for a couple days, then melted with the next warmup. By all accounts, we will not have a white Christmas this year. In fact, the high is supposed to be 38º. We may get sleet and rain on Boxing Day.

Halloween, I attended the Center's Gala. I went as a trivia quiz, with 20 cards pinned to my shirt. Each had a famous quote from a horror movie, with the name of the movie on the back of the card (like "Heeere's Johnny!", which is from "The Shining"). It took some coaxing to get folks to open the cards, many saying, "I don't really watch horror films." The winners of the costume contest are shown above. There was also a Tippi Hedren in a green tweed suit with stuffed crows attacking her.

The Solberg cousins

In November I started my dental work, which is going to be a long haul. Also, we put together the first newsletter for the Center, which got published last week. We're doing it all pretty much by e-mail, so there's not a lot of personal interaction involved. The final product looked pretty good, considering, and I'm sure we'll be getting the routine down in the new year.

Final ornaments for the tree

Thanksgiving was with the Solberg clan, and it was a very casual affair, with just about everyone in attendance. There was a downstairs family room space (where the photo of the cousins was taken) where the kids could escape. Slowly, I am becoming a quantity to the Solbergs, all of whom I'm not sure I've met.

A fireplace for the stockings

The Saturday after Thanksgiving I invited everyone over to help me put up Christmas decorations. It's been three years since I last decorated for the holidays: In 2012, Steve and I spent Christmas in Eureka. In 2013, Steve had just died and I wasn't feeling festive. In 2014, I was getting the house ready for sale, so the decorations stayed put.

Dining room tree(s)

In December I fully realized that I was in the midst of the Holidays and, as I have always said, "'Tis the season to be dealt with." I promised myself that, beyond getting the holidays up at home, I wasn't going to force holiday cheer if it wasn't spontaneous. One of the things I did want to do was go down to Riverside Park and see the Rotary Lights.

Steve and Pam stopped by the first Friday of December and we had Pizza Night at my place. Afterwards, we went down and checked out the lights. We walked through the park looking at the lights, but they also have a drive-through set up so you can circumvent the park in comfort. Of course, those in vehicles didn't have a chance to stop and purchase some hot chocolate.

Entry for drive through

The sidewalk is Christmas Tree Lane

A geodesic igloo? Sure.

The evening was one of those nippy ones, and Pam brought an extra heavy coat for me, since I haven't gotten around to purchasing one in all this mild weather.

We walked in from the south, along the sidewalk, and all the park trees were festooned with lights. We were a block away and already feeling festive. We crossed the street into the park, which was ablaze with displays and scores and scores of small Christmas trees sponsored by various organizations in town.

Some displays were high tech, some were simple and obviously homespun. All of them were impressive. We circumvented about two-thirds of the park when we stopped in to have a cup of cocoa and warm up in the "warming tent" provided.

We completed our trek around the park, heading along the river side of the park. There was one animated display which I really liked. A flying saucer appears in the trees with Santa standing below with a present. A beam emits from the saucer, an alien beams down and receives the package from Santa. It's kind of blurry with all the other lights around competing, but the video's worth a look.

Finally, we walked back to the car, and Pam and Steve dropped me off at home before heading back to Ettrick.

On attempting to get a full list of siblings from Pam, she explained the family doesn't give everyone gifts. They have a white elephant Christmas gift exchange. So I really only have to worry about the immediate family.

Yes, you guessed it: I haven't even started shopping. However, I know what I'm getting each person, so that will make it easier. And I plan to hit two, maybe three stores, so it shouldn't get too hectic. And knowing that I won't be driving home in the snow from Ettrick is a plus.

So, for the first time in decades, New Year's resolutions are foremost in my mind. I am ready to put all this upheaval and change behind me, get on with life in La Crosse, and make something meaningful happen for me, especially on the work front. After all, getting someone to hire me would be far simpler than setting up the business again. Either could happen; I've given up crystal balls.

I hope this finds you well and happy, and that your holiday season is filled with joy. I close with one of my favorite Christmas cartoons from childhood (or before).

Getting High In My Hidey Hole

There's a Dalek in my kitchen!

That's what I'm feeling like, stranded upstairs on my perch. And even up here, I feel like a hoarder in a "clean space" carved out in the junk. And the fumes! Must. Keep. Air. Moving.

Since the TV from the living room is now in the kitchen, along with the attendant AV equipment, the only real sources of entertainment are streaming services on the computer. I could watch a DVD, but they're all buried in the guest room behind the sectional. So, I tried connecting to Spectrum's (my cable server) online streaming, but there's some bug preventing me from hooking up, so I'm kind of limited to Netflix (which is plenty, believe me). But rather than lounging on the couch, I'm relegated to my desk chair.

Two cabinets, two rugs, the
dining room table, etc.

It's a good thing that the powder room walls got finished last week, as there are no lavatory fixtures installed, which makes room for some of the stuff removed to do the floors. The photo taken doesn't really reflect the depth of the stash nor the content in there.

The old bathroom fixtures are still in the kitchen, along with the buffing and varnishing equipment Ron left. There is just enough room between the fridge, the microwave and the sink so that I can do reheating. I shopped this week with that in mind, so I have several dinners from the store's deli and enough sandwich makings to keep me fed without cooking for the next three days.

Guest room and Patty's hidey hole.

You see, Ron finished sanding the floors today and put down the first of three coats of oil-based polyurethane varnish, and it is so making me high I can't believe it. All the windows on the main floor are closed (no dust or dirt can get on the floor) and he has the heat at 69º with the furnace fan going constantly. As the intake for the system is in the dining room, this means the fumes are getting sucked up and redistributed throughout the house.

So, I've closed all the registers upstairs, opened all the windows (save the guest room, which I can't get to) and turned on the ceiling fans, which has helped substantially. But since it's dropping to 41º tonight, and with the next two days topping out in the low 60s to upper 50s, I'll need a sweater. And, wouldn't you know it, they're all in the closet in the guest room, so I can't get to them.

The path to my hidey hole through boxed knick knacks.

On Tuesday morning, Ron arrived right at 7:30, just like he said. I had gotten up at 6:45 and moved the cat's stuff upstairs, then moved four of the five dining room chairs out into the garage. I left one in case he wanted something to sit on. I made a point of letting him know that he is rather legend in town, and it pleased him to no end, though he played it down.

And the grinding started. A huge sanding machine with an even bigger vacuum to suck up the wood dust. I'd say he got the lion's share of the sanding done that first day, switching to a smaller sander to clean up the edges of the floor. It was very strange, because as he worked, I could smell the fresh oak breathing for the first time in decades. It sounds weird, but I think this is making the house happy.

Living room before and after sanding.

He left around 4:30, saying he would return at 7:30 again Wednesday to finish the touch ups and buff the floor before putting down the first coat of varnish. I told him that I would probably not get up early to greet him. "The first day, it's just good manners to be awake when you arrive; but once things are underway, I don't feel quite so beholden." He thought that was quite funny.

And I was true to my word, not getting up until 8:30. He was busy at work when I went down to the kitchen to get some coffee and breakfast, and I didn't see him until he got back from the lunch break. We talked some about the coming winter and the realities of snow removal. "If we get a lot of snow, the ploughs will throw it right up on your yard. If you don't clear it within 24 hours, the city comes and does it and charges you an arm and a leg."

Switching gears, he explained that he buffs the floor once before putting down the varnish. "Most folks don't do that, but I think it helps blend where you used the different sanding tools." Made sense to me.

The dining room, before and after sanding and with the first coat of varnish applied. Shiny!

About an hour later, I smelled the unmistakable stench of oil-based varnish. I opened the windows in the office and turned on the ceiling fan. Before he started the first coat, he moved his equipment into the kitchen, so there is little more room than to move from the fridge to the microwave and the sink. If I move the trash can, I can use the stove, and I'm thinking about making some rice for my dinner tonight, just so not everything on the plate is from the deli.

I do have to admit that this process is much more disruptive than any of the plumbing fixes I've been through. It's almost as disruptive as the remodel in Pasadena, but not quite. However, I can say that I will be very, very happy when Saturday arrives and I can start reassembling the downstairs. And one plus is these two rooms won't have any unhung artwork or boxes and non-assigned tchotchkes hanging around. I'm leaving all that upstairs. So the downstairs will be, finally, guest worthy.

Mark, Mark and 50-Cent Sidetables

It's only 10:30 and I'm dead tired. But I did want to put in a little update here, since a few things have happened. First of all, the walls are finished in the powder room. No new toilet or sink (these have been put on hold), but, save replacement baseboards, the room looks amazing. I'm mulling over colors in my head.

Jason, the mud guy, made an extra final pass on the walls because he wasn't quite happy with his work. It looked fine to me on Wednesday when he finished, but he said he wanted one more pass before doing the final sanding, so he came back on Thursday to do that, which meant he was here on Friday sanding and cleaning up the floor.

His added day on Friday meant I was unable to attend Pizza Night in Ettrick, but Steve and Pam and I had planned to meet Saturday morning for the auction of office and school furniture that was being held for Western Technical College, where Pam teaches.

So I was down on the south side of town at 9 a.m. Saturday. Most of the stuff was of no interest to me, but I was hoping to find some substantial shelving that I could put into the office, as a good number of files and such are still in packing boxes. Pam wanted to find a large cabinet for their back porch (sort of an exterior pantry which is the entry to the kitchen).

We registered and got our numbers. Natalie had accompanied them, and after 10 minutes or so of checking out the offerings, she announced she was going back to the car. I think Steve was more than happy to go along with her.

The auctioneer finally showed up in a little cab on a truck, reminiscent of a glassed-in food truck from a carnival. It had loudspeakers. He had a microphone. A driver drove him up and down the numerous rows of stuff — mostly groups of chairs, desks, tables and such. I was mildly surprised to see about a half a dozen Amish there.

It seemed that most of the people had little interest in the stuff, except for a handful of buyers who were known to the auctioneer by name. They would wait around for a dozen tables to go from $5 a piece for the lot to $3 to $2 to $1, then $10 for the lot, then perhaps $5 for the lot and one of them would snap them up.

Most of the stuff was steel construction, but there were a lot of tables that were solid oak, and I'm sure that the wood alone was worth 10 times more than what they got for it (I kept waiting for the Amish guys to bid on them but they didn't seem interested; they had their eyes on the folding meeting room tables).

Once the lot of tables was sold for next to nothing, two oak side tables were offered: $10 a piece, $5 a piece, $1 a piece, then $1 for the pair. All of a sudden, it flashed in my head that I had been looking for nightstands for my bedroom, and there would be perfect. I held up my number and bought them for 50¢ each.

Pam did get a cabinet and also picked up a set of shelves for Emily's new house. (Emily is buying a house. She's deep in the passing of paperwork between buyer, seller and bank.) They had brought Glenn's truck, but couldn't fit everything into it, so my tables went into the back of their van, the cabinet went into the truck bed and we headed back to my house, where they dropped off the cabinet in the garage and went back to pick up the shelves.

Afterward, we went to Culver's for lunch and they headed back to Ettrick. I returned home and puttered a little, getting ready for Ron and floor finishing on Tuesday. Sunday was similar, but I did a good deal of measuring and planning about what could fit where, attempting to avoid having to drag everything upstairs or, worse, out into the garage.

Today at 9 a.m., Mark from Eagle Eye Property Solutions came by and started pulling staples out of the floor. He had a special tool he was using, but the going was slow, as whoever had put in the staples had used inch-long monstrosities that did not want to come out of the floor. It took him about two and a half hours to pull the remaining staples. We broke for lunch, then tackled the two-man moving jobs (the sectional and the larger furniture), lugging them up the stairs.

Naked living room ready for facelift.

My planning had worked out well, and we only had to put four large pieces upstairs, with everything else either in the kitchen (the big TV and the entertainment center) or the presently empty powder room (including the dining room table, which we disassembled). Mark left around 3:30, and only a final sweep of the rooms was left to do. All that's left are the five dining room chairs, which I will take out to the garage before Ron starts on the floors tomorrow — at 7:30 in the morning.

So Patty and I will be relegated to the office tomorrow (the guest room is full of stuff and there's not much space left in my bedroom). I think it will be good, since it will force me to organize and sort through the remaining office boxes (I think there are four). I'm also toying with bringing Patty's food, water and litter box upstairs because she never goes downstairs if anyone else is in the house. The only possible place to stow her stuff would be a small closet in my bedroom. I'm thinking of leaving the box there, since it will be out of the kitchen, and I will be more apt to clean it regularly if it's in my personal space.

Only dining room chairs left to deal with.

At 5, there was an open house at the Center which I attended. I ran into a couple of people I'd met before, a few new folks, and had a good time. There were crackers and dips and dill pickle spears rolled in ham and cream cheese, then sliced into pinwheels. I turned to one of the women in the room and asked, "Is this Midwest sushi?" Everyone thought that was terribly clever.

I was telling people about getting my floors redone, and they asked who was doing them. I told them Ron Miller, and a good half dozen people said, "Oh, he did our floors. What a fabulous job! You're lucky to get him." I told them that his voicemail box was full, and one person said, "Yes, it's been that way for at least a year that I know of." I feel honored to have a local legend working on my floors.

I stopped by the grocery on the way home and got a couple pre-made dinner items, since there is no room in the kitchen to prepare food beyond sticking it in the microwave. I do believe there will be space to brew coffee in the morning. I sure hope so, if I'm having to get up at 7:30.

When Ron last stopped by last week, he said, in his thick, Minnesota drawl, "If you wanna leave the the back door open, I can let myself in and you can just keep sleeping." I told him I would be up when he arrived, but that I would probably go up and nap for a couple hours more once I know he's squared away.

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "Retired people like doin' that, ya know."

A Well-Paced Eternity

The trees around my neighborhood are starting to change colors. Like so much else about the Midwest environment, this triggers off something primal in me from childhood. Fall was always such a colorful, happy time, and the perfect lead-in to the holidays and winter.

Most of the trees on my lot are evergreen, so very few leaves to rake.

And while I appreciate the pace that seasons give to life, it certainly does seem like an eternity since these guys started working on the pipes in the powder room. Brother-in-law David first identified the leak back in late August, when he and Kittie were visiting. Before that, with just one shower a day upstairs, I never noticed the leak, beyond a tiny pooling of water on a main stack coupling.

If you'll recall, I even had a plumber in to try and find the leak, and we couldn't. So, yeah.

After the plumbers (who are really good guys and very competent and reliable) ripped open the wall to expose the huge, cracked 80-year-old wrought iron pipe and replace it, I decided to pull out the entire wall, as it was only about 6' x 8' and most of the plaster was water damaged.

So the drywall guy came by — last week, was it? — and pulled down the wall. It took them a few days to get back (a weekend was in there somewhere) and, just before starting to cover the opening with drywall, they found (you guessed it) another pipe. This one was galvanized, so it was probably only 50 or 60 years old. The problem was, it was the vent pipe for the plumbing, and there was about a two-inch gap between where the powder room sink drained into it and the pipe that led to the roof.

Not even close! Who did this?

I'm glad he noticed it. I'm not a fan of methane seeping into the walls, especially one so close to the stove in the kitchen. So they held off on patching the wall, and I called the plumbers back in. And, of course, it took them a couple days to get back here, which meant another weekend, and finally they showed up last Friday and repaired the pipe.

And another weekend. The drywall guys were supposed to call on Monday around noon to make sure the plumbers had fixed the pipe, but they never called. So I called them. Joel said they could come first thing Wednesday morning (today), and they did. They had the drywall up in no time, and said the guy to tape and mud the wall would be here in the afternoon.

I went in to check their work, and it was acceptable. And then I noticed: where the plumber had opened a small section of ceiling to access the first pipe, they hadn't bother to patch the hole. So I called Joel back and told him to hold off on the mud guy since the drywall guys hadn't done all the work. He said he'd have someone here this afternoon.

Around noon, Ron, the floor refinisher guy, was at the back door. He came in and there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes, as though he expected to start the floors tomorrow. I pointed out the powder room job and said it wouldn't be done for a day or two. I also pointed out that I had to get someone in to help me move the furniture and pull the rest of the staples that were still in the floor around the edges of the room. I told him it would probably be next Monday before I could get someone here (and I was right).

I called the guys at Eagle Eye Property Services, who are members of the Center's business directory, and Mark answered. I told him my need and, sure enough, it was Monday he could come. Which leaves me the weekend to wrap knick-knacks and clear out as much as I can on my own. I tried to get ahold of Ron, but I got his voicemail, and it has been full ever since I first tried to call him, lo these many weeks ago.

So I worked on my Halloween costume (I finally got a great idea, but it's a secret) and expanded the newsletter template that I'm working on for the Center. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night, so around 3:45, I figured no one was arriving to deal with the wall, and I had a lie down. Just as my eyes were closing and my body relaxing, I hear somebody talking on a phone in the kitchen. The mud guy had arrived.

Add caption

He was talking to Joel, since he had seen the hole in the ceiling quite readily and wanted to let Joel know the work wasn't completed. Then a set about mixing his mud and finishing off the 98% of the job that was done. Jason (the mud guy) did a really nice job. When he finished, he said the drywall guys will return tomorrow at some point to finish off their work. Then Jason will return to finish off the ceiling tomorrow afternoon, and return on Friday to sand and finish. So the powder room walls should be complete by the weekend.

My new driver's license came in the mail at last. The license plates for the car were handed to me as soon as I got all the necessary paperwork collected, but the driver's license — a new-fangled type with some sort of chip in it that the TSA will be using to streamline domestic travel — meant that it took longer to process. As friend Deeann (who grew up in Viroqua, just south of here) said, "Now you're a cheesehead." You betcha.

Another milestone I felt creeping up: yesterday was the second anniversary of my husband Steve's death. This year it felt positive, like a scab healing, an injury improving. I'm still wearing my wedding ring. I took it off at the first anniversary of his death, but I still felt so naked and incomplete without it. I wondered if this was the year to take it off and, almost as if he was speaking, Steve's little voice in my head said, "Find the ring box it came in; when you have that, you can safely put the ring away without losing it." Sometimes voices in your head are a good thing.

Last night we had our first meeting of the Center's communications committee, of which I am a member. The big discussion is the newsletter, which at this point is pretty nonfunctional. I was planning on suggesting a redesign, but I didn't want to step on any toes. "Don't worry about it," Jackson said. "If any feelings are hurt, I'll just ask them why they weren't stepping up and taking care of it themselves." Good point.

Celebrating the SCOTUS decision.

I had already been working on a template for the redesign, so I spent today finishing up a rough version of it while trying not to think about the powder room. (I still have to purchase the sink and toilet; the vanity light fixture and the mirror for over the sink and the floating shelves for over the toilet have all been purchased for some time now; I just didn't want to have two toilets sitting in my kitchen, even though one of them would be factory fresh and in a box.)

This weekend one of the colleges in the area (the one Pam works at) is having an auction to get rid of excess old office furniture. She and Steve are going, so I told them I'd join in on Saturday morning, hoping to find shelving for the office and a solid, comfortable desk chair. After that is a chili cook-off of some kind. I may try and get them back to the house to join in the tchotchke packing, but that is a very conditional if.

Either way, I'm going to try and get as much done before Mark comes to pull the old carpet staples. Next move: figure out a way to keep Patty off the downstairs floors while they're being refinished. From what I see, it's going to take two or three days to get them sanded down and get three coats of sealer on them. So, with luck, I will have finalized plumbing, new powder room, freshly done floors by the time Halloween arrives. It will be so nice to be able to tell if you've swept the floors or not (at this point they look just as horrible clean as they do dirty).

Perhaps I'll get to have a housewarming party before the end of the year after all!

Continuum

Continuum sounds so much better than never-ending. In this usage, it is the bonding of myself and my checking account with the house. Luckily, my latest interaction was not too expensive.

And I don't need to wear glasses while driving anymore!

On Friday, I went to the DMV and got myself officially anointed as a Wisconsinite. The line was long. The computer system (take a ticket and wait for service) was down, so they had folks going here and there, finding out who needed what, and getting them taken care of. No one in line was grumbling; they were talking and joking with one another.

I got to the service window and was given proper paperwork and apologies for the back up. I filled out the forms, came back and got my photo taken and my signature digitized lickity-split. Then back into the main line to get my driver's license and transfer my car's title to Wisconsin and get plates.

The woman who helped me at the final window also apologized about the computer outage. She got my temporary license fairly quickly (but the system took forever to print it out). But, after checking with several sources, told me she could not process the car title without a death certificate, since Steve's name was also on the title.

It was a tedious experience, but everyone was so pleasant and the fees were so reasonable, I came out feeling the California DMV could take some lessons on making its offices more tolerable places, for workers as well as customers.

On the way back, I hopped over to Menard's and purchased a vanity light, a couple floating shelves, an electrical junction box, a new doorbell, a couple CO/smoke detectors and a new kitchen faucet. I didn't get the sink or toilet, since I hadn't measured the powder room thoroughly enough to be sure that they would fit into the tiny space.

Michael Palin's sister?

That evening was, as most Fridays, Pizza Night in Ettrick. We watched "Brazil" by Terry Gilliam (the director's cut, which is about 40 minutes longer than the theatrical release). It was fun to watch the film after so many years, and it was still very funny and, if anything, even more relevant to the concept for governance and terrorism. One thing I had forgotten was the transcriber, who types out the transcripts of torture sessions in the Ministry of Information ( " N O  …  P L E A S E  G O D   N O  …  A H H  …  N O  M O R E  …  O H   G O D  …  N O  …  N O T  T H A T  …  A H H H H  "). Such a sweet lady!

When I got home, I turned on the furnace, which heats the home in mere minutes. Since I don't have a toilet on the main floor just now, I went downstairs to take a leak and noticed the little box at the base of the furnace (the condensation pump) was growling and churning. It was extremely hot but was not pumping any water. Luckily, the home inspector had shown me the main "off" switch for the whole system. I used it.

Saturday I went online and made a service request with American Home Service, from which I purchased a one-year home insurance policy. It didn't cover the plumbing problems, since they were pre-existing, but I'm pretty sure it will cover the pump, since it was working fine during the summer.

With the furnace unusable, the fireplace was the major heat source for the weekend, a job it did quite well (there's even a internal fan to circulate the heat). Patty is slowly getting indifferent to it as I'm getting more attached to it. When I first moved in, it was on the list for replacement, as it is brass (like all the cheapie lighting fixtures). Now, with the lighting replaced and the burgundy print carpeting pulled up, the brass front has its own charm, and I don't mind looking at it at all.

Now we move to discussing my sleeping patterns, which have been all over the place in the last few months. Starting last week, I've been getting to bed between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m., which means I've been getting up between 7 and 9 in the morning. This is a good thing.

This morning I woke up on my own at about 7:30. This was also a good thing, because at 8 a.m. on the dot I got a call from the furnace guy (who had been notified by AHS). He said he wanted to come over right away and I said sure, if you don't mind me being in my bathrobe.

Little pump that caused big problems.

He showed up, checked out the pump and announced it was so gunked up it couldn't clear the water out of its own reservoir. He didn't have a replacement on the truck, so he popped back to the office and returned with a brand new model, installed it, tested it and I had a functioning furnace by 9:30 a.m.

One of the best things about being on a sleeping schedule that matches the rest of society is that I get up, get stuff done, take a break, and it isn't even noon. It's almost like doubling what you can get done in a day. Being retired, I think I wallowed in the I-can-sleep-whenever-I-want a little too long. I like what I'm doing now, which is getting up in the morning and taking an afternoon nap if I'm feeling tired. And when I nod off in front of the TV in the evening, I take it as a sign that I should be up in bed, getting good rest. Works for me.

There's nothing much happening on the social front. The newsletter's gang of three (Aleysha, Cindy and myself) hasn't met yet, but then Jackson (executive director of the Center) has been on vacation for the last week or so, and we've all promised not to bother him while he's away on R&R.

The only thing that sticks in my head is coming up with a really great and extremely simple costume idea for Halloween. It can't conceal me, since I want people to recognize me at the bash and afterwards. The last simple costume I had was a Hawaiian shirt and a bottle of tranquilizers, going as a tropical depression. I don't know how familiar this term would be to folks in these northern climes, so I won't repeat it.

Again, any suggestions would be most welcome.

Now, off to get the car title transferred (I found a copy of the death certificate after some digging). I'm not sure whether they hand you the plates right there, or whether they get mailed to you, as with my new driver's license (it will have a chip in it that will make it compatible with the new TSA system being initiated at airports across the country).

How long before they just put the chip in your head, I'm not sure. Hopefully I'll be dead before that happens.

Powder Room Blues and Fall

Fall is here. Cool days and chilly nights. Patty is not at all pleased, since I keep the windows closed in the evenings, and she loves sitting in the sill and smelling the world outside. The house keeps its warmth at night, and having a fire in the fireplace is adequate to keep the place comfortable. ("Having a fire" consists of pushing the "on" button on the fireplace remote).

A toilet in the kitchen, a trend-setter?

Patty isn't quite sure what to make of the fire, either. It's safely behind glass, and I know she likes the warmth, but she jumps when it goes on and gives it a wide berth when coming and going from the room. She is also still confounded by the toilet, sink and vanity sitting in the kitchen. I dare not let her into the powder room, as there are holes open to the wall interiors, and she's the kind of cat to crawl in with curiosity and get herself stuck.

As for the powder room, progress continues. The drywall guy came by on Monday after the plumbers finished replacing the drain stack. He pulled down the remaining lath and plaster. And, as I suspected, whoever installed the medicine cabinet (which has the vanity lights included in it) had not bothered with a junction box in the wall, just wired directly into the wooden cabinet.

So a junction box has to be installed before the wall is replaced. Joel (the drywall guy), of course, does not touch electrical, so I told him I would go out and get a junction box and install it before I called him back to put up the new drywall and finish the job.

Another happening on Monday, I finally got someone out to check on the floor refinishing. Instead of relying on Internet reviews and dubious websites, I have been calling around to places that install wood floors but don't refinish them, and asked for referrals for good floor finishers. Attic Restorations Floorings (Ron Miller) came up almost half of the time, so I called him.

He dropped by around 6 p.m. and quoted a very reasonable price for the work (much cheaper than having the rooms recarpeted), so I told him to schedule me in. Now I just have to find someone to help me pull up the rest of the staples in the floor and move the furniture out into the garage before he shows up to do the work.

Homemade meal: Pork Tenderloin, stuffing and peas.

One other thing I'm dealing with is the baseboard moulding, which is consistent throughout the home. I think I'll have to find someone to actually produce it if I can't find an adequate replacement at Menard's or one of the other DIY stores.

Tuesday was a lazy day for me. It was the first really cool day, and I was lucky to get the garbage out to the curb for pickup. I actually cooked dinner (a lot of evenings, I've been making a sandwich or heating up a can of soup, as the stove really heats up the kitchen). About 3 a.m., I woke up with a migraine. I took ibuprofen and went back to bed but got very little sleep. I woke up Wednesday morning with a slight subsidence, but I didn't get any real relief until early afternoon. Sleep was peaceful Wednesday night, and this morning I woke up refreshed.

So today is shopping day: A junction box, a new toilet, sink and light fixture for the powder room, new doorbell, new CO/smoke detectors, new faucet for the new sink, and a replacement faucet for the kitchen sink (which has a Moen faucet from the 1960s). Then I can get the drywall guy back on Monday to finish the job after I've installed the junction box over the weekend.

News from the office: I think I'm finally in synch with all my bills: what's monthly, what's quarterly, what's annually. Now I just have to come up with my new filing system for all this. It will take some time.

Meanwhile, on the social front, Facebook has finally caught up with me, and is starting to suggest potential friends here in the La Crosse area. So now I have about a half-dozen new "friends" that I've met at the social gatherings so far. Now the big question is: what am I going to go as for Halloween? Suggestions for easy, clever costumes are being accepted.

Ricka-racka Fiah-crackah Ziss Boom Bah: band members and flag girls march down the street.

I have mentioned the bells from the church across the street. I have another aural stimulant in the neighborhood. With fall comes the return to school, and every day the marching band for Aquinas High School (across the street) revs up and the music wafts over the building to my house. At the end of practice (around 11 a.m.) they march out onto the sidewalk and march around the block. It's a weird reminder of the Rose Parade, but it does help with my late-morning slump.

So, this afternoon I'm headed to Menard's for shopping. Part of me is feeling panicky about spending the kind of money I'm going to drop. I have to keep reminding myself that the money was held out so that it would be there to spend on stuff like this. I've never been one to really enjoy the shopping experience. I suppose I should work on that.

Just Like on HGTV

I've been seeing things. Tonight, with a crystal-clear sky, I saw more stars than ever, not just the constellations, but all the little stars in between and behind. And there, sliding slowly in front of them, trailing southwest to northeast, was the international space station. It was a point of light dim enough that you had to set your eye slightly to the side to perceive it; when you focused directly on it, it disappeared. I looked it up on the internet just to make sure it wasn't a very high-flying UFO.

And last night I saw Steve. I was sitting on the couch and nodded off for a moment. My head slouched to the left, and there he was sitting next to me, just where he used to. I'd say it was just a dream, but it had the quality of a vision: he was slightly luminous and brightly colored (I rarely dream in color). He was smiling warmly at me.

Cracked Stack.

It startled me and I opened my eyes. It was the same effect as Bilbo Baggins disappearing at his birthday party, like my eyelids had been transparent and the only thing that vanished when I opened my eyes was Steve. Far from unsettling me, I felt a substantial warmth from within: Things are okay, I thought. Things are going well. I feel that way now, even after the plumber showed up and found a two-foot crack running down the original cast-iron drain pipe.

He spent a good hour checking all the pipes with his spy scope camera, and didn't cut into the downstairs bathroom wall until he knew where the problem was. I was pretty sure it would be exactly what he found and exactly where he found it, as Dave Vicars and I spent some time tracking down the leak when he and Kittie were here.

Right now it looks like it's going to be around $1500 to $1800 to replace the pipes and repair the wall, and they will probably be here for a couple days next week. I feel really blessed that I have a 3/4 bath in the basement, so I can avoid imposing on the neighbors for shower time and I won't have to poop in plastic bags until they're done.

The upside to this is that the last of the original cast-iron pipe will have been replaced by PVC once this fix is done. (Well, there will be a small section left beneath the second-floor bathroom, but that can be easily replaced when they break up the floor for the remodel, which keeps getting pushed back by other things.)

One of those other things is the hardwood floors downstairs. And I finally got ahold of the floor refinisher recommended to me. Well, I got ahold of his wife, which is almost as good. I figure if I want the floors done by Thanksgiving, I'd better move on it now.

Last night I was thinking about putting up Christmas decorations, where things would go, how to rearrange the occasional chairs I haven't gotten yet, what tchotchkes to store and replace with Christmas tchotchkes, etc. This may sound compulsive, but I haven't put up Christmas for the last three years ('12 Steve and I were in Eureka, '13 Steve had just died, and '14 I was getting the house ready to put on the market). It's about time.

I need as much celebration as I can get. Too often, I feel like I'm working on an uphill battle trying to start this new phase of my life. I mentioned reaching on the wrong side to get the toilet paper, how part of my is still wired for Pasadena. It's that way for a lot of things. I think it will take an autumn and a winter here before I really feel like I belong.

Ugly downstairs sink.

Perhaps I should harass the local theater companies again, see if I can get someone to actually return my e-mails. Then again, there's so much I can do with the LGBTQ Center which will directly use my talents in graphic communications. The Halloween Gala is coming up, so I'm working on something for that.

Bill, the wall repair guy, was working on a job just down the street, so he walked over around 1 p.m. and took a look at the situation. He said repairing the hole would be about $300, since Bob (the plumber) was going to open a small part of the ceiling to get to the old elbow joint and replace it. Looking at the condition of the wall, I asked how much to replace the entire thing, and he said about $500. So I'm going to buy a little corner sink to replace the ugly vanity/sink that's there now. So it looks like both bathrooms are getting a remodel, quite inadvertently.

After Bill left, I kicked around the idea of going out to lunch, but ended up having a sandwich here, since there's some turkey that needed to be consumed in the next day or so. And with these expenses piling up, it's the frugal thing to do. But there's still money in the contingency, even after these expenses, so I'm doing OK.

The Vicars Come East

The end of summer is here. I can feel it in my bones. We had a half-week where it was hot as hell and as humid as Courtney Love's…well, it was unpleasant. I basically stayed cocooned in the air conditioning of the house, which pumped on to keep the interior at a comfortable level of heat and humidity.

Amanda, Natalie, Steve
on the Ettrick front porch.

Typical summer weather here seems to be in the mid-80s with evening temperatures making it only into the mid-70s. With the wind and the almost-weekly thunderstorms, it's quite pleasant, as summer weather goes. And every once in a while it will dip down into the upper 60s, with the evenings in the 50s.

Dave on the same porch.

This last week, it's been in the 70s, the humidity low. When it heats up, we have a day or two in the 80s. I see leaves (especially the ones on the two little deciduous trees in my yard) starting to hint at a colorful death.

Back in August, the week that David and Kittie visited, it was pleasant weather, and I don't think we had any thunderstorms until the day after they left. They arrived a couple days after my last blog entry, so I'll start from there and try to catch up.

Acrobatics on the front lawn in Ettrick.

Jackson (executive director at the LBTQ center) asked me if I could design some posters for Pride Weekend, and I said sure. (They have Pride here in September, rather than June, partly because a good percentage of the gay community is made up of college students, who go home in June and return in September.) So this year it was the weekend of September 12.

Vintage tractors ready for the antique tractor pull.

I told him I'd be glad to, then put it on the back burner while I was getting ready for David and Kittie's visit (August 20th through the 25th). I wasn't too worried about the place being spotless, since the unfinished wood floors make the it look sloppy, no matter how clean it is.

So, the day after the last blog entry, I headed out. It was time. I needed to stop putting it off and go out and buy a bed for myself. It took me very little time to pick the mattress once I found a place. I'm big on buying local, but it has its drawbacks.

Steve, Kittie and Pam on the levee in Winona preshow.

The first place I went to, there was a lone customer with a child waiting on someone in the office (I saw a person step into the back as I entered). While the customer sat quietly, I checked out all the beds. I took a good 15 minutes trying out the beds, and no one ever appeared from the back, so I simply walked out.

The second place, a little farther north, was very nice with attentive help, and I got a fairly good deal on a very comfortable bed. It was delivered the next day. While trying to back out of the driveway, the delivery truck snagged some lines from the house to the garage (The home inspector said they were probably not to code). The lines were still connected and working, so I added it to the list of stuff that needs taking care of (this list would be expanded dramatically once David had a chance to check out the house).

Flutes and singing bowls at the Saturday evening concert.

Kittie and David arrived in La Crosse Thursday evening. It was late enough that no one showed up at the airport to greet them other than myself (not only am I their host, but I also don't live 30 miles from the airport). We got home, kicked back, and went to bed.

Friday was a day to visit and plan out what things they wanted to do while here. It was also a chance for David to check out the house. I won't say he went over it with a fine-toothed comb, but I can say I'm sure he pointed out just about everything that needed tending. Of course, the upside is that he'll do any kind of fix-it stuff he finds, unless it's electrical or plumbing (that's my rule; not just for him, but pertaining to repairs in general).

Fabergé egg collection at House on the Rock.

On Saturday, he and I went out to Menard's with a list of stuff, and, for the most part, they had what we needed. David was also able to find the source of the water settling on the drain pipes (which the professional plumber could not). It's the upstairs shower, so for the rest of the visit (and since, I have to say), all showering was down in the basement.

In the late afternoon, we headed out to Winona, where we had dinner with Steve and Pam and Amanda. Afterwards, we went to a pan flute/singing bowls concert at the local yoga studio (an adjunct to the wellness center where Amanda is a CMT).

A street of shops, each holding a collection, at HotR.

It was a very interesting concert, and I found myself sitting with my eyes closed, letting the music take me wherever it might go. It was complete improv between the two musicians, and the overall effect was intense and extreme relaxation.

After about 15 or 20 minutes, I opened my eyes and noticed the people sitting on yoga mats on the floor (including Pam) were laying flat on their backs, looking just this side of snoring. I had to smile to myself: how many musicians have the goal of putting their audience in a trance state?

Natalie has a photo op.

After the concert, the musicians started talking about themselves, something that I don't indulge for more than 10 or 15 minutes: I have a very short fuse for artists' thoughts on themselves and their work once it flows into grandiloquence.

Sunday there was a minor Solberg (Pam's family) get-together at Pam and Steve's out in Ettrick. We were supposed to be there at noon, but Dave got involved in restringing the remote wire for the garage door opener (at which he was successful). We didn't get out there until about 1 p.m., and most everyone had eaten by then, so the half-dozen cold salad and veggie dishes Kittie and I had purchased at Festival (the supermarket) did not get the attention they deserved, and most of it came back home with us.

Two-story clockwork in mechanicals room at HotR.

There was plenty of food for us, so we didn't starve. It was nice to meet more of Pam's family and reconnect with the few siblings I had already met. The kids gave a performance of tumbling, giving each adult a dried leaf to use as a "ticket" to the performance. Later in the afternoon, the Lion's Club held an antique tractor pull across the road from Steve and Pam's place. David, of course, disappeared in his fascination of the mechanical.

One of numerous automaton calliopes.

After a while, Kittie and I walked over to see if we could locate Dave. We also wanted to check out the tractor pull, but nothing significant was happening, so we went back across the road and rejoined what was left of the Solbergs (some had left, some were at the pull). Dave finally came back from checking out the tractors ("They aren't antiques; the oldest one's from the 1930s!"), and we returned to La Crosse, as we had to get up early the next morning to go to the House on the Rock.

Now this is an antique tractor!

The House on the Rock is a bizarre collection of collections. It is truly impossible to describe the entire thing; it must be experienced. Steve showed up around 8 a.m. and drove us to HotR. Amanda and Natalie met us there, and we spent several hours just walking through the displays and exhibits. Some of the collections are of things I didn't even know existed.

I think the most impressive, at least for me, were the huge installations (some the size of a chifforobe, others taking up entire rooms and several stories tall) that were automaton music boxes. There was one of a symphonic orchestra with full-sized, articulated mechanical musicians.

Many of the collections are overwhelming to the point of numbness. And throughout the entire edifice is an undercurrent of conservative Midwest ethics (such as the four horsemen of the Apocalypse hanging over the exit door) nestled in among two-story high walls crowded with carousel horses, hundreds of them.

The final item is a huge carousel, so ornate it's almost repulsive. The interesting thing: with that huge collection of carousel horses, there is not one carved horse on the carousel.

We headed back to my place, picking up stuff for dinner on the way (Papa Murphy's take 'n' bake pizza, if I am not mistaken). And David packed up their box (they shop their stuff ahead with UPS rather than pay the baggage fees on the airlines) and headed to bed early. Kittie and I had decided that we were simply going to stay up until we had to leave, which was about 4:45 in the morning, as their plane departed at 6:20.

Four Horsemen in a roomful of carousel horses.

On my way back from dropping them off, I was reflecting on the expanded to-do list of household fixes that Dave had left with me. I had to laugh out loud: I realized some people would take offense if someone came into their new house and found every single thing that was wrong with it. That might be construed as criticizing your selection of houses or an eagerness to find fault with your choices in general. But rather than finding offense, I've always taken it as Dave's contribution to making my life as perfect as possible, and the fact that he loves to find things to fix.

To be honest, the last couple weeks have been a kind of limbo for me. I spend time talking to contractors about the projects I want to do around the house, but I am very reluctant to actually sign a contract with anyone. In the past few days, I've come to realize that I just don't want to spend any money, even though there's a tidy contingency that I've reserved specifically for these kinds of things.

New lighting and fan in the kitchen.

Last Saturday was Pride in the Park, which I opted out of, since Jim and Emily came over and we installed the new ceiling fan in the kitchen, as well as new lighting over the sink. We also swapped out the overhead light upstairs in the hall, as the previous one had five 60-watt bulbs, which was overkill for such a compact space.

The place is feeling more like home every day, but I think it would feel even more so if I overcame my financial hesitation and spent some money on sprucing it up: refinish the floors, fix the plumbing, bite the bullet and sign a contract for the bath remodel. Oh, where to start.

Which is a stupid thing to say, as I started back in May when I bought the place.