Blisters = The Worst

Awhile back, my husband "surprised" me by having several of our trees cut down. This had a treacherous downside; some vines tangled at the top of the tree ended up re-routed onto our bamboo fence. As the days and weeks (and, yes, months) went by, I watched the vines slowly attempt to take over the bamboo. But given that it's not easy to do outdoor chores with an infant and that, well, about a million things felt like a priority over vines, I did nothing.

Until today.

Today, Silas was starting to fuss, but it was a little bit early for him to take a nap. Into the stroller he went, and I parked him outside under the bamboo fence, away from the vined section. Then I set to work, grabbing the vines and hoping they weren't poison oak.

I didn't bother to look for my gardening gloves, because that would take time. I used my bare hands to grab the vines and pull as hard as I could. At some point, a dead branch fell from the sky. I kind of expected it, but it also kind of freaked me out that the only thing holding it up these past few months were those awful vines.

Well, the mosquitoes quickly attacked despite a healthy coating of insect spray, so I didn't get very far with my project, but I did get far enough to get a few tiny-yet-annoying blisters on my fingers.

That's the price I have to pay for marginally nicer-looking bamboo and also for being able to delay Silas's complaints for a good half hour. I guess one of these days he'll get to watch me trim the front azalea bushes!

I am a DIY "goddess"

For the past few months, our bathroom faucet has been leaking. Drip, drip, drop. One little tiny bit at a time. Barely worth looking into. I tried to get Smiley to fix it, but he deemed it too insignificant to spend a potential half afternoon fixing and said one of these weekends he would just buy a new faucet since the current one is kind of cheap anyhow. I was agreeable to that, but the drip was not. It got worse, probably as a form of protest ("how dare you suggest I'm not a leak to be contended with?!").

But there came the moment I could no longer ignore this drip. After all, every drop was probably costing us about a fraction of a fraction of a penny. And eventually it would end up costing us a penny. And from there, the sky was the limit!

Now as you all know, we keep stuff. So it didn't take me long to dig up the box that the faucet came in. I was hoping to see, I don't know, maybe a troubleshooting guide or something? The box was empty, but I noticed the installation guide on the bottom and it worried me. The installation process was shown to be three steps: open box, put top part of faucet above sink, secure bottom part under sink.

Why did this worry me? I had looked up on The Internet how to fix a faucet, and it had been intimidating. Pictures showed the various screws, washers and valves that could comprise a faucet. So this overly simplistic box picture made me wonder if the faucet was so cheap that it really couldn't be taken down into its component parts. And that made me wonder if I was going to have to go to the store and really buy a faucet. And installing a faucet seemed ten times more scary than trying to fix a mysterious leak.

So I went into the bathroom and stared down the faucet. Gave it the once-over. And there I noticed two little plastic spots on the inside of the handles. I gently pried them out and saw there was a space for an allen wrench! I could take the handles apart after all!

Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to check and see if only one side was leaking before taking everything apart. First I turned off both hot and cold water to the faucet and (of course) the leak stopped. Then I turned on the cold water. No leak. Then I turned off the cold water and turned on the hot water. Then we had a leak!

Yes, that is one of those moments that I felt proud about. (Did I mention that Silas thought I was hilarious? He was quite content to play in the hallway during this little ordeal of mine. Amazing what a change of scenery can do for a baby.) Even though I knew that anyone could have done that in no time at all, it still felt like a step in the right direction for me. I turned the water supply off again, just in case, and got all up under the sink.

It was not easy to get all up under the sink. Though that bathroom has a spacious cabinet, a spacious cabinet is still a somewhat cramped space for a human being. I looked up under the sink, shining a light, and found nothing that seemed to be useful. There was a black washer and I half heartedly gave it a twist to see if it was loose or something. (This was my method of "trial and error at work, people!) It was not loose. It felt like it probably should feel, I decided. My back cramping had nothing to do with that decision at all, I swear.

I knew I would have to remove the handle. I loaded a picture of potential handle insides onto my phone and searched around the house for the proper size allen wrench. I was surprised to find one in our bedroom window sill that was a match. Then I promptly managed to use it incorrectly. (I used the short side of the wrench which meant I had to keep pulling it out and reinserting it because the long side would hit the bathroom counter. Whoops.)

As I was unscrewing this tiny screw, I had one thought - "I need to make sure I don't drop this into the sink."

Of course the moment I gently took the screw from the handle, I dropped it into the sink. Crap. '

Then I tried to grab it before it could roll down into the drain. Of course it rolled down into the drain. I knew vaguely that the "p-trap" could catch this item and that somehow I could retrieve it, but I put that thought aside for now. I looked at the handle mechanism.

Of course it was different than the diagram I found online.

I noticed there was a screw, a larger screw, holding an orange piece together. So, logically, it made sense that I should take out this screw also. Imagine how great I felt when I found a screwdriver (also in our bedroom) that was the perfect fit. I took out that screw. I did not drop it in the sink, because it was large enough that it wouldn't have fallen down the drain.

Then I looked at the orange piece and decided to pry it up as well. At first, I wasn't really sure what I was looking at. The piece was about a half inch in diameter and fit on a metal piece that I couldn't figure out how to pry up. In fact, it was at this point that I realized that I had taken apart as much as I was able to. I didn't have the wrench needed to remove the metal bolt that held this metal piece/orange thing combination. I had reached the end of my attempt to fix this. I decided to take heart in the fact that at least Silas was still thrilled about exploring a different section of carpeting.

So I pressed the orange thing back onto the metal thing (I'm using all the highly technical terms here) and realized that this was the mechanism that decided how much water came through the faucet. So before I put the decorative handle part back on, I decided to play with it and see how it worked. I turned the hot water back on and amused myself by rotating the orange plastic piece to turn on and off the water.

And that's when I realized that when I turned the faucet off, it wasn't leaking anymore.

I looked down at the orange piece. It looked the exact same as it had before I took it off. I hadn't made any adjustments, consciously. Clearly my subconscious mind had done something amazing. I tentatively put the long screw back into the orange/metal combination. Still no leak.

I put the handle part back over everything and turned on the water. I turned it off. No leak.

I resisted squealing in joy, because the tiny screw was still stuck in the p-trap. But somehow, I had fixed the leak. And, even better, my husband got home just as this was happening, so I could share my triumphant fix (and less triumphant screw-loss). Luckily, as he is able to do this sort of thing much better than me, he removed the p-trap, retrieved the screw, and we replaced that together.

Silas started to fuss at this point, presumably because he realized that just like the carpet in the living room and the bedroom, he is unable to eat this "different" hallway carpeting too. It was quite perfect in timing.

As of this writing, the leak is still fixed.

Which is more "redneck?"

My husband and I purchased a house some two and a half years ago (time flies) and from the start, there's been a small, rusty old shed in the back of our yard that we kind of want to get rid of. There's a problem though, and you better believe this problem is related to our "Stuff" issue.

Let me, briefly, start at the beginning. When we bought this house, we knew we'd have to redo the bathrooms. The master bath had a huge leak somewhere, somewhere being to the point that we had to strip the whole room to the studs and redo a lot of the plumbing. This was fine; we planned for it.

We also attempted to save money by seeing if we could scrounge up a tub and toilet for free, as Smiley has a lot of friends who are also maintenance type guys and property manager type guys and those type guys sometimes have extra tubs and toilets floating around.

So we spent one Saturday crawling to the top of a steep backyard hill to reach a rusty old shed at a friend's house to take and remove two bathtubs. It is not exactly easy to bring a tub down a steep hill that is overgrown with vines and what were once small trees. But free is free, we figured. Right until we realized that the tubs were oriented in the wrong direction for our bathroom. Our friend benefited from having two tubs gone from his collection of Stuff and we, well, we had two tubs that we couldn't use but didn't necessarily want to get rid of because they were tubs and could eventually someday be useful.

We spent another Saturday in similar fashion, though a different place and people, obtaining three toilets. Free toilets. Three free toilets that we did not end up using either when we decided the toilet already in the bathroom was actually not leaking. Well, now we had three free toilets that we could maybe someday use when we probably needed to replace the current toilets. Someday.

These items languished in our garage for a bit until our garage needed to be a place for different Stuff and then the tubs and toilets migrated to our shed. Then the shed got hit by a tree and now in addition to being old and rusty, it is also partially, mostly caved in. We really need to rip it down. There's actually a little foundation underneath it that I want to use as a small patio. Maybe put a firepit on it or something. Except then we get back to the problem of the tubs and toilets. They could still be useful.

Actually, I think Smiley said we could put the tubs out but he wanted to keep the toilets. Or something. But despite the partially caved-in, rusted shed being an eyesore on our property, he postulates that taking the toilets and temporarily storing them on our gazebo is too redneck. Moreso than having an old, falling apart shed. I'm sure you can tell I don't 100% agree with this.

Until we figure out what to do, I'm just going to go back to wishing that the tree branch that partially collapsed the shed was big enough to put it out of its misery. Maybe crushing a few toilets on the way. But I figure I'm not that lucky.

Furniture Rearrangement - Mini How-To

It's no secret that Smiley and I have roommates - his sister and her husband live with us. Having roommates not because you need them but because you want them there is a great experience. If we're lucky, one of my friends might be staying with us for a few months next year as well.

We have a 3bed, 2bath house, so I know some people might be starting to count rooms and wonder if we're crazy.

I mean, yeah, a little.

But we both grew up in large families and in houses where rooms were occasionally (or always) shared, so having people around is a normal state of life for us.

So in lieu of this arrangement, Smiley and I are trying to rearrange our bedroom in a way that what is currently the computer room can become the guest bedroom/eventual nursery. This involves having to put our computers in our room. This seems like an impossible task at the present, mostly because right now our room is bursting with Stuff.

Basically, the best way to figure this out is to build a scale model. Here are my steps:

How To Rearrange Your Furniture in the Best Possible Way - For Now
This method works great for anyone who has ever sat there and said "no, actually, I want to see how it works with the couch on the other wall."

This method is great to suggest to anyone who will have you moving furniture in the near future. Heck, you can do this for them - it'll still be less effort on your part.

This method is not needed for those who are excellent at rotating 3D objects in their heads. Go clearly picture your room's furniture all rearranged without my help. You disgust me.

Required items: tape measure, paper, pencil. Imagination. 

1: Measure the room, the doors, the windows and any closets. Mark down all measurements on a piece of scrap paper.

2: Make a scale model of your room with those measurements. Depending on the items you have in your room, an inch = a foot scale can work fairly well (so, each foot of room space will be represented by an inch). You can use a large piece of cardboard or poster board to draw your room. Make sure to put in the windows and doors!

3. Measure all of the furniture. Err on the side of too large here; this method will not work if you guesstimate an inch or two short on everything and end up trying to smash a bedframe between two night stands. Personal experience.

4. Make scale models of your furniture out of a separate piece of cardboard or paper. You can be as detailed as you wish, but the only important parts to note are the front and back of an item when it makes a difference (for example, you most likely want the head of your bed against a wall instead of in the open space). (But I won't judge. Do you want you gotta do.)

5. Rearrange it! Now you can easily rearrange your paper model until you come to a design that works for everyone. Again, it might seem like a time consuming way to do things, but unless you REALLY like dragging furniture around, it is worth it.

Paying Bills Makes Me Feel Alive

Very recently (like, one week ago), my husband and I decided that maybe he should handle paying bills for awhile. Today, I crumbled and scheduled our bill payments for the beginning of the months and planned our payments for our student loans.

I don't know what it is. Bills, on the one hand, make me sad. I don't like paying away money each month. But it's not hard to understand that they are a requirement if I want the lights to stay on and if I want to be able to blog from the comfort of my a/c-cooled, internet-capable home.

So since bills have to be paid, I like to view them as a puzzle, based around what we need to pay each month and what we'd like to get each month. Sometimes, it's a stressful puzzle when unexpected needs suddenly mount up. Sometimes, it's really enjoyable because through hard work and careful planning, we make up for those unexpected needs.

Also, I should probably mention that I keep a spreadsheet with all the payment information. It might be said that I enjoy spreadsheets. One time, I made a spreadsheet designed to show the value of various pizza brands and sizes per square inch. (We ended up buying a 30" pizza and that was our lunch and dinner for a week. Value is not always glamorous).

With a baby on the way, though, each month brings us closer to having financial responsibility for another human being and budgeting doesn't seem fun, but scary. Getting close to - or going over - our goals, whether weekly, monthly or yearly, is stressful in a way that it never has been before.

I cried one time because although I had budgeted for a bill, I had forgotten to actually pay it. It wasn't late at this point. I just didn't pay it on the time schedule that I usually stuck to, and I had been so excited to see our bank account staying at a high number - until I realized that number was due to a distinct lack of paying a bill.

So last week, my husband suggested that perhaps he should take care of the bills for awhile. Being that I can see how ridiculous it is to cry over a bill that did not break our budget and was not late and did not incur any late fees, I agreed.

But then I started to wonder. How would I know when to enter items on the spreadsheet? I know my husband wouldn't be worried about it, but I really like having data to analyze. I love being able to say with confidence what we spent at the grocery store each month.

And I mean, yeah, I was stressed about the partially forgotten bill from the other week, but that was a week ago, and I was more stressed wondering which payments my husband would choose to schedule when and from which accounts and then I wouldn't know which card to use to pay for groceries and I needed to buy groceries today so...

...today I crumbled and paid our bills and well, it felt great.

I might be addicted to managing finances.

Another short HGTV rant - square footage

Here is another trend I find baffling and perhaps you can enlighten me on what I am missing. Often a times, I will watch the HGTV channel because in some ways, I am very much stereotypically a homemaker and love watching hours of people looking at homes, buying them, renovating them and sometimes selling them.

That being said, the massive square footage requirements that many featured buyers have are really hard for me to wrap my head around. Families of four will request upwards of 4k square feet, for example. Grown couples that indicate no desire to have children will look for houses with similar or more square feet. And people looking for their first homes will complain when they are brought to a 1500 square foot house that is within their budget.

(Caveat: This square footage madness does not typically apply to those looking for apartments, and especially those looking for apartments abroad. In those cases, I am awestruck that people can make less than 800 square feet work for them).


According to the internet, the average home size in the US is around 2700 square feet currently. The average family size is 2.6 (both of these stats were taken from 2009, so yes - outdated by a few years. But while I can imagine that the ongoing recession has downsized square footage a bit, I doubt it's led to an increase in family size). This is insane. Do people really need around or over 1000 square foot per person to exist?

Now, I do have some extreme examples. I know that my mom's family of ten lived in a very small house (I'd estimate at about 1200 square feet with an unfinished basement); it had four small bedrooms and one bathroom. I know also that my mom is eternally grateful that our family of seven had three bathrooms but we, too, made do with less bedrooms than people - my parent's house has four bedrooms. The first time in my life that I didn't share a bedroom was, strangely enough, when I moved into a dorm for college.

So I know it's possible to exist in smaller spaces. And I honestly don't know what I'd do with more square feet besides find junk to put on shelves and to store more seasonal decorations; but I don't think my quality of life would go up. So help me out here, guys. Let me know what I need more square footage for. Right now, my husband and I live in a 1500~ square foot house. His sister is living with us and we have two small dogs and no space issues as of now. HGTV dictates that with three people, our house should be twice as large.

Oh, and don't get me started on our lack of double vanities. Again. Another rant for another day.