Happy (belated) Father's Day

I meant to write this post on Sunday, but time got away from me, what with traveling up to NY and back. However, since I heard an ad on the radio this morning encouraging shoppers to go out and get a Father's Day gift, I figured it's not too late to pay my own little blog-tribute to the man who jumped in his truck as soon as I got the keys to my house and barreled down I-95 through the night to help out for what I'm sure he did not figure would be almost three months.

For all my making fun of the Dad and his quirky Norwegian Bachelor Farmer / Old Fashioned Loaf tendencies, I am one very lucky girl. From keeping me company during the night on the bathroom floor during any number of childhood stomach bugs to collecting me on the side of the Hutchinson Parkway... and the Tappan Zee Bridge... and New Rochelle Hospital after a good few mid-twenties car accidents, Dad has always been right there when I've needed him.

Dad and I drove his truck up to New York on Saturday, and I flew back down without him. Charlie and I sat down on the sofa after dinner last night, and he looked at me as if to say, "Something's missing." I rubbed his neck and said, "I know." However, as I tidied up before bed, I was comforted by an array of tools still scattered about the place: He'll be back.

Norwegian Bachelor Farmer Tendencies

Last night, as he stumbled out of the dust and rubble of what used to be my bathroom and onto his bed, Dad jerked his thumb back toward the wreckage and mumbled "Clean that up in there, would you?"

This seems like a simple task that requires no more skill than the ability to wield a broom and a dustpan. But before I continue, let's play a game. I want you to divide the following photographs of things I found in my bedroom last night into two categories: "JUNK" and "NOT JUNK." (Answers will appear at the bottom of this blog post.)

(1) Lightly used nails & screws.

(2) Plastic electrical box; 2 inches of corner bead; and I'm not sure what to call the other things.

(3) Used plywood; 18 inches of 4inch PVC; tar paper dug up from under the old linoleum floor.

(4) More PVC removed from the old drain below the toilet.

What a lay person may not know is that what Dad thinks is garbage and what the rest of the world thinks is garbage are two different things, and that anyone cleaning up a Redmond Burke job site needs one extra special skill: the ability to read Redmond Burke's mind.

A typical cleanup involves the following conversation at least five times:
Anne: [yelling] "Dad....? Is this garbage?"
Dad: [hollering] "What?"
Anne: "THIS!"
Dad: "Well, you might consider it garbage. And it might be one day. But, for now, just put it behind the machine. You know, just today I went down behind the machine and found [insert garbagey item] which was just what I needed!"

Clarification: "The machine" is the air handling unit of my HVAC system. "Behind the machine" is the small area of the closet not taken up by the air handling unit.

Here are just some of the things that currently live behind the machine:

"The Machine"


Assorted bits of PVC fittings.

Doors from the cabinets we tore out of the kitchen.

The fluorescent lamp that used to hang in the kitchen.

Extra slats for the blinds in Catherine's kitchen, in case Charlie goes bananas on them again.

I'm just sayin'. There's a lot of stuff already behind the machine.

Yesterday, on the News from Lake Wobegon, Garrison Keillor described this pack-rat mentality perfectly in his sermon about Norwegian Bachelor Farmer tendencies:

"Norwegian Bachelor Farmer tendencies start when you set something down in a place it doesn’t belong and you leave it there.

Even for two minutes.

You put your beer can down on the floor and you put a pair of socks down by it.
And then you add a magazine.

And before you know it these things multiply. And you come back and suddenly you’re wading through debris and flotsam and jetsam on the floor and pretty soon you’ve got a car up on blocks in the weeds by the garage. And you’ve got old refrigerators with the doors hanging open. And appliances out there. And you’ve got bed springs sitting in your front yard.

And now you’ve gone around the bend and you need intervention, 'cause a person can’t live alone.
Most people are unable to live alone.

All of us need adult supervision. And that usually comes from a woman who lives with you. A woman who says 'What are you doing with that?' and 'What did you put that down there for?' You need a critic. You need a critic."

Well, that's all the news from Lake Ferry. Where all the woman sees is trash, all the man sees is treasure, and all the dog sees is a pair of blinds in the way of his view of the cat across the street.

--------------------------
Answers:
(1) NOT JUNK
(2) NOT JUNK
(3) NOT JUNK
(4) NOT JUNK

Count Down

I'm supposed to be returning the Dad to New York this coming weekend. So I sat down after dinner last night and started making a list of things left to do, and I'm positive I've forgotten half the things that should be on the list.

To Do

Basement

1. Clean carpets
2. Clean bathroom (partly done, Sun)
3. Patch popcorn ceiling in bathroom (done, Sun)
4. Paint bathroom
5. Finish painting up stairway
6. Install 4 lights
7. Put up blank wall plate on kitchen ceiling
8. Hang bathroom door & closet doors

1st Floor

1. Finish putting cork on cabinet shelves
2. Finish painting cabinet doors
3. Polyurethane and attach kitchen kick-plates
4. Order satin nickel kick-plate for front door
5. Install toilet-tissue holder & towel holder in powder room
6. Have mirror cut for powder room
7. Install telephone jack
8. Change window latches
9. Rewire dining room chandelier

2nd Floor

1. Change outlets & switches in master bathroom (done, Sun)
2. Remove caulk from bathtub seam
3. Finish white grout behind toilet
4. Paint un-tiled walls
5. Tile inside of soffit
6. Paint master bathroom door
7. Change door-knobs & hinges in master bedroom
8. Change closet door track
9. Basically everything in the rear bathroom
10. Etc.
11. Etc.
12. Etc.

Attic

1. Lay down new insulation
2. Lay down floor

I was pretty depressed and overwhelmed most of Saturday, knowing that all these tasks loomed and I was going to have Dad for only one more week. But writing the list out was cathartic and I feel slightly more cheerful. It also helped that my mother promised to visit with Dad sometime in August :)

For some perspective on why I was feeling glum, however, let me illustrate:

The view from my bed.

The great wall of tools, now in my bedroom.


My toilet, a PVC latrine.

Idle hands are the devil's tools...

... but how do you know that the devil's not the one keeping your hands busy?

Last week Dad reckoned that his work was just about finished here. And when he started putting his tools in the truck, I panicked for a few reasons: first, there's still a lot of work to be done; second, I've never stayed here alone and I'm scared; and third, I'll miss him.

He had arguments to counter each of mine: (1) You can do it. (2) Get over it. (3) A round trip flight is about 150 bucks if you miss me that much. I'll pick you up at LaGuardia.

My ace in the hole is the gas stove, which will be delivered 6/15. Dad figures I can change an outlet or a light switch. He even plans to "let me" (="leave me") install a bathroom vanity on my own. (I've been assured by friends who are as ignorant of this as I am that there are plenty of YouTube video tutorials that will help me.) But propane is a different story. I could kill myself, demolish the house, and maim my neighbors. So he's stuck here until 6/16 (propane tank delivery date) at the earliest. :)

Fearing boredom and idle hands, however, Dad needed a new "big project" to occupy him for these two weeks. Simply tying up the loose ends from all the other big projects wasn't going to be enough to keep the devil at bay. Thus, the bathrooms (which weren't going to be re-modeled until the Fall) are getting an overhaul NOW.

Old bathtub.


Old vanity & sink. I swear, this isn't just a re-post of the black clamshell sink from the powder room. The house was blessed with 3 of them.

The bathroom as seen from the bedroom. Check out the neato linoleum floor.

What do you call a bathroom when it has no bath?

This was the second of three times we had to put this tub in. Apparently the room isn't quite 'square.' I have bruises up and down my legs from the ordeal. Just when the purple marks start fading to yellow, we've got another monster to haul and I get bruised all over again.


Skinny Dad. I swear I'm feeding him.


This is Dad's bedroom. He sleeps here. Like this. And that's OK because he doesn't have to get up and try to look clean enough to go to work.

But when I got home from work to find my bathroom partially demolished...
... I was a little alarmed.

Idle hands indeed.

All work and no play, makes two Burkes very cranky

There's only so much work you can do, especially in 90 degree heat. That's the temperature inside and outside since neither Dad nor I wants to concede that we're too weak to handle the heat, so we leave the AC off. (Reminiscent of the Great Heat Wars of Winters 2004 & 2005.)

So last weekend we took a rare break, putting down drills and trowels and visited the Got to Be NC Festival, where we spent a couple of hours in the shade watching an antique tractor pull. I thought about rounding out the redneck experience with some corn dogs and deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but figured there wasn't enough Tums in North Carolina for that kind of heart burn. So we went the healthy route and each had a foot-long hot dog followed by a giant ice cream.


Yes, that is a girl driving a tractor.

I promise, house pictures to follow soon. Basement and bathroom making good progress, but not photo-ready yet.

And we shall call her Lazarus (Yes, I know it's a boy's name.)

A couple of weeks ago I reported on the death of my dear Peace Lily.

Well, to paraphrase Mark Twain, the reports of her death were slightly (sic) exaggerated.

I say slightly, because she was indeed gravely ill.

However, I am now delighted to announce that Lazarus is on the mend! She has been watered with MiracleGro, divested of her necrotic leaves, and repotted.

True, she is looking a little thin and off-color, but who wouldn't after a near death experience?