Monkeys!

First, there was Harry:Harry is not a pretty monkey, but he is loved. I tried, but I knew the first time around wouldn't be the best.
Next came Gene:

Who knew the second try would turn out so well? I got hooked. The following is my little monkey brood, all together for possibly the last time.
From left to right, in order of creation: Harry, Gene (gift for a friend having a baby), siblings Martha and Eddie (gift for a friend having twins), [Not pictured: Hanes, made from boy-sized socks. He's a white and silver sweatsock monkey, and mid-sized. Hanes was almost immediately adopted by the lovely wife of a friend of mine who saw Gene and felt a deep need for a monkey of her own) and the newest edition, little Pete.
Pete is pretty much the cutest thing ever. I stole - I mean, was inspired by an etsy shop of monkeys, which I didn't bookmark. I will find it and link to it. Anyway, I saw some monkeys on etsy with little felt half-moons for the eye area and the idea stuck with me. I would have kept to buttons except that Gene's adoptive family took me up on my offer to replace his button eyes with embroidered ones. Since I've never embroidered anything before, I decided to test it out on little Petey here. Pete was also a test to see if I could successfully handle baby socks.

Pete is, quite possibly, the most successful test of anything, ever, and I think I will keep him for myself for all time. He's got my first all-embroidered face, which I think turned out rather well. He's also got my first attempt at some new limb-attachment techniques, which I learned from a book I just got called Stupid Sock Creatures.

I haven't made any Stupid Creatures yet, but I plan on it soon. I'll be sure to keep you posted.

And, in case you're wondering, Gene's cosmetic surgery went off rather well. The button eyes give much more personality than my limited embroidery skills, so I had to add eyebrows to Gene. Please don't say anything about his scar, he's very sensitive about it.

Girl's Guide: Home Repair

When we moved in to our house, as I was reveling at the glory of a whole laundry room (as opposed to the laundry closet we used to have), I noticed that our washing machine had been rigged in some way. Usually, if you open a washing machine during the spin cycle, it will stop spinning. This is because it would be dangerous to reach in there , and people are dumb. I didn't think much of it at the time.

Then, I decided to wash a blanket. The machine stopped right before the spin cycle. I went down and saw my blanket sitting in a lot of water, and soapy. I tried just starting the machine over again, and the same thing happened. So I tried it again.

Because I'm brilliant.

I figured I had broken the machine because our addition was finished, and the bathroom was finished, and we were thinking about maybe, someday, having some spare cash to buy a couch, so it would make sense that now I would do something stupid and break the machine and cost us basically another grand.

Because being a home owner has taught me to be an optimist.

Thankfully, I was wrong. The rigging for the lid switch had broken. This is what had been making my washing machine work:
A lid switch basically functions like this: There is a little tab on the washer lid that fits into a hole on the machine. When you close the lid, the tab hits a lever, which closes the circuit to the wiring in the machine, that tells it that it is ok to spin.

Of course, I did not know that it was a lid switch problem, or what a lid switch was, until I did some searching on the internet. The internet told me that it would cost about $15 to replace the part and that I (yes! Me!) could fix it myself. Getting a guy out to replace the $15 part would cost about $100 plus parts plus labor. That's more plus than I'm looking for, so I found directions for taking the washing machine apart and got to work fixing it my damn self.

First, obviously, I had to get a new lid switch. Thankfully, Sears Service Centers are conveniently located near you (or my husband's office). They had one lid switch for our model washing machine. It's more like $25, but still ok with me. Of course, Mr kept forgetting to go pick it up, so it was a week later (and now a desperate laundry situation) that I finally went my damn self.

Naturally, being a week later, they do not have the part. But lo! A new Sears has opened a mere two minutes from my house (as opposed to the 30 it took to drive to the first one) and it seems they have it in stock. I drove over there, and, naturally, they do not have it in stock. A snotty saleswoman informs me that they just recently moved to that location, so their inventory is "all messed up." She offers to order it for me, but I won't get it for three years. I decline, and order it myself at home, because Sears will feel my wrath and lose my $25 sale.

However, now we need clothes. I can't even just buy new ones because I prefer to wash my clothes before I wear them. So I soldier on, determined to fix it temporarily until I get the part.

First step: pry off the side caps. They look like they're permanent, and it feels like you're breaking your washing machine, but you aren't. Just get a screw driver (preferably a flat head) and wedge it under one of the corners of the end caps and pop it off.

Take off both end caps and unscrew the screws that they were hiding. Then, you just have to flip that control panel part up. Only it isn't just an easy flip. The next picture is a bit fuzzy. It is also on its side. The left-hand side is actually the top. See the little white thingy poking out of the black metal part? That is basically a hinge. Once you pop the end caps off, you have to work the whole control panel up until the white thingies on both sides move up that groove and into the top part, where they will have room to move.

Then it will just flip up:
Pretty cool, right?

Ok, next, you pop out those gold doo-dads, which connect the cover to the back and base. Again, just use the screw driver to pry them out. This takes a little bit of muscle, but isn't as nerve-wracking because those gold doo-dads clearly work on tension, so you don't have to worry about breaking them. They tend to really pop out though, so make sure you don't lose them when they go flying.
(Look how gross it gets under the console. Who knew?) The next part is a little scary, but also fun. If you go up to the picture with the control panel flipped back, you'll see a bundle of wires leading to a clear-ish white tab heading into the cover. You have to disconnect them by taking the screw driver again and prying the tab on the big tab up.


Then, you walk the cover off of your washing machine. Once the cover is no longer secured to the back, washing machines are really, really flimsy. In reality, a washing machine is a big barrel with a thin metal box around it. Without some reinforcements, they wiggle a lot.

To replace the lid switch, you have to basically get inside the washing machine cover.

In the next picture, you can see the switch. It's the gray plastic thingy. See the little white plastic post? That is supposed to be pushing down a little lever, which broke off, which is when the previous owners used a zip tie to hold down the broken tab, which eventually broke off.
It is connected by the screw on the right-hand side, which is also grounding the wires. Everything else is in clips that you can just pull out. It's surprisingly simple. If your machine is broken, I highly recommend the site I linked to above - they have pretty good instructions. Plus, it never occurred to me to take a picture of the new switch. Oops. Anyway, since I didn't have a new switch when I did the first fix, this is how I solved the problem:

Electrical tape is good, because it is stretchy, so you can really get a tight fit. Sadly, this worked for only a short time, but long enough to get a few loads of laundry done and carry us through until the replacement switch arrived.

Check it out:

NaBloPoMo - we broke up

Clearly, NaBloPoMo is not for me. Such is life.

the holidays are upon us. How did that happen so fast? Mr & I are going to his grandparents' for Thanksgiving and having Christmas at home. Our home. We don't have to go anywhere or see anyone, and it really makes me happy. I love having my own tree, and waking up in my house and opening presents with Mr.

This year was supposed to be Christmas at my parents' house. I haven't been for two years because we were trying to get on the same schedule as my brother and sister-in-law, who is on a schedule with her married siblings. Finally, we were on-track. But, they're not going for a myriad of reasons, and when I politely asked if it was ok to bring Hank with us, my mom said that she and dad had discussed it and decided that dogs are for "short, quiet visits."

Hank is banned.

So, because we sent him to Mr's parents during the honeymoon and recently boarded him for a weekend we said we can't do that to him again. So, we're staying home. I was upset, because I don't understand her issue with dogs in the house, but I respect her decision. If I don't want someone/something in my house, I expect others to abide by my rules, so I have to do the same for her. We handled it well, I think. No major drama, but both of us stood firm and didn't want to hurt the other's feelings. Once it was clear that we were both ok with it, there was a noticeable drop in tension.

I blame it on my brother and my sister, really. He would show up at their house with his two large dogs (I would guess about 80lbs), one of whom often peed on the houseplants. My sister has a reasonably well-behaved (at least in comparison) jack-rat who weighs about 5lbs. So, you can understand why my mom associates big dogs with bad dogs. It's no use trying to change her mind. But, seriously, how could you not love this guy?

Tree Trauma

I'm still in the heat of studying. We got the BIG QUESTION, for which we have THREE HOURS to write an answer, yesterday. The test is a week from today. I think I'm developing TMJ. In the meantime, here's some pictures of destruction. At some point, I'll figure out how to post the video of the guys taking the tree off the house.

First picture: from the back door, looking towards the garage. What? You can't see anything? Just leaves? Yes, that's because everything in sight was overwhelmed by leaves and various other tree-parts that used to reside about fifty feet higher.

See? I wasn't exaggerating. Here's where the tree broke through the roof of the addition and one of the many, lovely, new water-spots we have popping up in all sorts of unexpected places.
Our porch in the lovely light of morning, filled with tree.
This is the view from behind the house. Note the now-squished looking corner of the top of the house. That's above my office. The tree must have hit there first, poking a few holes in the roof above the attic, which resulted in some water in my office. The little couch was slightly damp, but not too bad, so I'm keeping it. Thankfully, I had only recently moved my wedding dress to the other closet, which stayed totally dry. Also dry: the vintage guitar I inherited from my dad.
This is the view from my office window. Luckily, it is double-paned (pained?) glass, and only the outside pane was broken. So, it looks neat, but it is still water-proof. Unlike the roof.
This is the tree service cherry-picker attempting to get up the front lawn. Because the ground was so wet and slick, and the front lawn has a slight up-slope, he couldn't get close enough to the house. He did manage to rip up the lawn, though. I like that the back of the truck says "Dangerous work done safe" but the "safe" is obscured by the ladder, so it's just "done."
They attached this claw to the bobcat to stabilize the tree while they sawed off pieces of it. Later, they used it to take off the big chunk. Hank is supervising because that's what he does when work is being done in the yard. He makes sure it is done right.
I kind of love this picture. It's the hole in the addition, after they removed the tree. It reminds me of that scene in Disney's "Sword in the Stone" when Arthur first touches the sword and the heavens open up and the chorus sings? Except... this is bad. It's sort of like, instead of a destiny being fulfilled, I can see God revealing a life of struggle ahead. Something will always go wrong. And yet, I'm not all that concerned. I mean, either I laugh at it, or I go nuts, literally, and get committed. Or move back in with my parents. Finding the beauty and humor in this sort of thing is the only way I'll get through it. Maybe that's overly dramatic?
The roofer took some pictures with my camera when he went up to patch the roof. I like this shot, because you can see my couch through the roof. You aren't supposed to see in through a roof.

Happy Birthday To Me!

My birthday present from Hank:

Mr took me to Gibson's to celebrate. We finished off an awesome steak dinner with the Big Banana Dream Cake. I don't know if you can really get the sense of proportion in this picture - it was taken with my cell phone - but that piece of cake weighed about four pounds and could feed a small village for at least a couple of days. I'm hoping to finish it off this weekend. Note: the piece of cake is almost as tall as my wine glass, and probably a good solid eight inches across.

Finally, the Bathroom

Ok, people, you're going to have to bear with me here, as I am not great with Blogger and pictures. Specifically, there are a couple that should be portrait and for some reason I can't get them un-landscape. I trust you can use your imaginations. Or tilt your head to the side.

Behold: the bathroom as the previous owners left it to us.

Note the circus-like stripes, the shitty furniture and the lack of matching woods. The cabinet over the toilet and the vanity were very close - but still not quite matching. What you can't see in this picture is that the finish was coming off of everything that was "metal." The handles on the vanity doors, the faucets, and the drain of the sink. Also unpictured - the giant crack in the toilet tank. Upon further inspection, we realized that it wasn't a crack - at some point, the tank was dropped or hit with something and a big ol' chunk was knocked out. Don't worry though, it was super-glued real good.

The tile. It's a lovely gray shade that looked perpetually dirty. The damn tub was installed incorrectly, causing the waterfall in my living room (I have pictures of that, somewhere, too. I'll see if I can add them) which instigated this whole thing.



The day after demolition. This is the shop vac they used to soak up all the water that was under the tub after the idiot sent to work on my house (one guy was great, his assistant the first day was very nice, but a bit of a knucklehead) removed something in the tub without turning off the water main or even finding out where the water main was, so my ceiling got wet. Again. After we'd had it fixed.

Anyway, this is the original tile. I would have preferred it to the "updated" stuff that was in there.
Oooo! Our fancy new bathroom. This towel hook costs about $25 . But, it's part of the Kohler bathroom set, and it makes me really happy to have it. I love the paint color and our tile and the shower curtain. Sorry, I couldn't get this picture to rotate. Also, they installed a curved curtain rod, which makes the shower seem HUGE when you're in it. You know how sometimes the steam from the shower and the regular air in the rest of the bathroom make the curtain billow in and get in your way? That doesn't happen with the curved rod and I love it. This is my attempt to show you the bathroom as a whole. There's the lovely trim in the shower, and the granite, which you can only see in the reflection, and the picture we found at Bed Bath & Beyond and it just happened to match all the colors we chose. The towel does not match. I've registered for bathroom stuff that matches. I'm hoping to get it at my shower this weekend (because towels I can take back from Atlanta, dishes I'll have to return and re-buy).

Here's a close-up of the glass mosaic. It was taken right after they installed, so it still has some grout haze on it.


Isn't it pretty?
So, I'm leaving Friday morning for Atlanta. I won't be back until Monday night, so I don't know when I'll post again. Probably tomorrow. And Friday morning before I leave. But after THAT, it won't be for a while.

Hiatus

Hank wants you to know that if this were his blog it would be way more interesting. He'd bring you fun stuff everyday, like this picture of him and the only toy he hasn't completely destroyed. See how sweet he is? It's no wonder I'd rather sit on the couch with him than work.




It's finals time. I have to expand a unit plan and write a research paper on The Divine Comedy.

In the meantime, I won't be posting, though I keep having ideas of stuff to write, because I don't want to write the stuff I have to write.

The unit plan is coming along. I'm supposed to expand a plan I already did, which shouldn't take long because I did more than I was supposed to the first time around. However, I've discovered that I can't just half-ass it, probably because I recognize that I very well might teach this unit plan sometime in the near future.

The research paper has me worried.

Expect something slightly more interesting after the 13th (when the last of it is due).

In the meantime, check out my new glasses! (comic-book style).


You can't really tell, but the frames are sort of amber. I think they're groovy.

Pictures and Priests

Ha. That sounds like it could be bad. And it could be... if you're squeamish. Coming up: Pictures! My toe, now nearly healed, right after I broke it and the snow in April. It would have been better if I posted that right after it snowed, but whatever, I have things to do.

If you are squeamish, you might not want to see my toe. It was purple and hurty and I don't know why I want to share it, I just do. However, I'll give you a little warning before I throw it out there. Plus, it will be last. If you get to the picture of the snow and you don't want the toe, then quit reading.

So, the priests part. Mr and I met with my priest on Saturday. It was something of a comedy of errors at first. We showed up at church and mass was starting. Mr, of course being always suspicious of priests, assumes we've been hoodwinked into going to mass. Which, naturally, upsets him. Whatever. So, we go in thinking my priest is saying mass and then it starts and it's not him. I want to leave. Mr thinks we now have to stay. "What if he's waiting outside for us?" "..."

So, we leave. There are other buildings on the church campus but... I don't know what they are. I was last a member of this particular church when I was 8 years old. It's changed. Plus, when I was 8 I was really only familiar with the part where they said mass, the daycare center (for when you weren't "being have" as my brother used to say), and where they kept the donuts.

I call the priest and I'm like "We're here... um... could you call me if you get this?" and, lo and behold! he did! So, we go back and meet with him. It went really well. Mr didn't even get a chance to talk about how he thinks all Catholic priests are pedophiles, which is good because I would have had to kill him. Which would upset the whole wedding thing.

So, we have options. As Catholics, we should go to Precana. We can meet at the church for an hour or so five weeks in a row, or we can do a Discovery Weekend in Lovely Niles, Illinois. Let me tell you, Mr was really excited about going away for the weekend to talk about feelings and staying in a strange room approximately fifteen minutes from our home. Fr Priest (not his name but... it seems like anonymity is good for people who don't know I'm talking about them) also said that we don't have to do anything. He recommends the weekend, but we can just do nothing if we want. The most wonderful part is that, even though we don't have to do anything, Mr is willing to do whatever I want to do. Isn't that nice?

***********************

Pictures!

So, on April 11 it snowed. I couldn't believe it. I knew that we would have another cold snap before winter wore its way out for good, but snow? Seriously? Naturally, the first thing I did was think of you, my loyal readers. Sadly, I lack good follow up, hence the two weeks late. But isn't it the thought that counts?




That's my street. I had actually left the driveway and headed out to go to work, stopped, got out my camera and took some pictures. Seriously, it looks just like it did in December.

Toes

Please ignore my nails. I got a pedicure about eight months ago ... ok, maybe four. Still, the pedicure is pretty much grown out and nothing has been done since then. It is way to much effort to take the polish off. I just let it grow out.

So, first, my good toe. For comparison purposes:

Then, the bad toe. It isn't actually that bad. I really thought I had just sort of hurt it. You know, like stubbing your toe. Seeing it change colors though was strangely gratifying. Like, I'm not a huge wimp who cries over a stubbed toe. I really banged it up. It changed colors. At that point, I'm like a five year old kid. I'm totally fascinated by gross stuff, particularly if it's mind. So, without further ado, my bad toe in all it's glory:

These days it looks pretty much like the good toe.

New Look, Again

Ok. I think I'll stick with this layout for a while. I'm digging the green and purple combo. It reminds me, strangely, of seventh grade, when this was my favorite color combo on the planet. Except it was more crayola-shades.

I just couldn't stand the other layout. It was too all-over-the-place. I need my posts centered and contained. I don't know why.

And, for your viewing pleasure, more pictures of Hank. Because I'm sick and he amuses me.
*****
This is Hank in our old condo. I was sitting on the couch next to him, undoubtedly delaying writing a paper for school. I think this is how he spends most of the day when we're not home.
The only think I really miss about that condo is the kitchen. Everything was brand-new, so the stove and oven were awesome, the microwave above the stove has a fan for sucking up smoke and whatnot and the fridge never froze the food on the refrigerator side and kept all the food frozen on the freezer side. Our new refrigerator is not so reliable, and the oven likes to burn stuff and makes the house smell like gas. I had my current appliances but, as they work (sort of), they are on the bottom of the "things to buy for the house" list.

This is Hank in my new office. I promise I will post before and after shots soon. I'm still waiting on Mr to hang the curtain rod on that back window.

Mr hates that old green velvet (!) couch in the background. I got it from my grandparents when they moved. I love the size and shape of it. It's very small - more of a loveseat, really - it's low to the ground and it is sort of oval shaped. It also has some weird bleach-like stains on the front. I'm sure one of my grandmother's eight children spilled something on it and someone tried to clean it. I promised Mr that I would recover it or at least slipcover it. That I didn't love the color, just the shape. But. It matches my office so well. It picks up lots of lovely shades in my fancy Home Depot area rug. Besides, it's my office.

Monster Truck Jam

Here is the first video I have ever posted to YouTube.

We went to the Monster Truck Jam maybe two weeks ago. It was kind of awesome. This is video of Gravedigger's entrance.

Gravedigger is like the Hulk Hogan of the Monster Truck scene. He's got the coolest entrance and the crowd freaking LOVES him.

I have to apologize for the crappy camera work. I'm not a professional.

Like I said, the crowd goes nuts for this guy. Actually, there are about six or seven different Gravediggers. All the cars look the same, but they're driven by different guys. I'm sure it's the same everywhere, but the crowd the night I was there loved the Gravedigger driver. He was a rock star. Check him out, I think you'll see what I'm talking about:

What's that? You can't really see him? Here's a better shot of him being interviewed on the Jumbo-tron.

I think the Monster Truck Jam is the only place in the world where this guy can be cool. Seriously, you might not be able to tell from my awesome photography. You'll just have to trust me on this one.

The kid in front of us was a big Gravedigger fan. He had his little Gravedigger Matchbox car with him, which he chose to drive over the guy next to him.

He wasn't just a Gravedigger fan, though. When my friend started to jeer Blue Thunder, the massive Ford-sponsored pickup, the kid kept turning around and giving his wife dirty looks. I'm not sure if he didn't like the jeering- my friend kept yelling "boooooo-thunder" - or if he just hated my friends wife. Either way, it was pretty funny. I managed to snap a picture. Personally, I think the kid liked the attention.
He's kind of hamming it up here. He was giving her a pretty nasty look before. He was super-cute kid, though, and generally really into the action. That's his dad (I think) behind him, giving me the eye. I think he realizes what a funny kid he has though. In any case, he didn't seem to really question why someone would take a picture of his kid.

I love his giant ear protectors. I have to say, they are necessary. That was quite possibly the loudest (and stinkiest - those monster trucks put out quite a lot of exhaust) events I've ever been to. Next time, I'm definitely wearing ear plugs.