The inspector failed me, but he gave me a number of useful suggestions. One was that I include the the original re-plumb on the permit so everything is legit. This of course complicates the project and nearly doubles the cost, but I like to play by the rules so I’m going for it. Now the challenge is finding the time to do so around other engagements and work. The car’s ABS system went out so we had to drive it way out to the mechanic and way out to pick it up two nights in a row, then there the whole thing about shutting water off when people are using it. So tonight I’m going to try and do a quick blitz on the mainline fixes followed by the loudest updates that the inspector recommended on the in-building system. Hopefully that’ll leave the quiet fixes (with the exception of cussing) for after the girls are asleep. I really want to get that hole closed up.
New main line
I agonized over how to make a pun in the title that used pipe, tube, or hole, and eventually gave up. Not because I couldn’t think of any, but rather better taste prevailed.
Anyway, this weekend I replaced the main water line from the city’s meter to my shutoff inside the basement. It was a keystone project that effectively held up 4 other major things we’d like to complete, so once I pass inspection (assuming I do), a cascade of new projects will shower on to our summer weekends.
Unlike some friends I know, I don’t have access to excavating equipment. I dug the trench from the house to the fence, and my parents somehow got roped in to digging from the sidewalk to the meter. All told, the digging and tunneling under the sidewalk took 5 hours. The plumbing then took about 30 minutes. I love pex.
Well, except the part where I was 1 ring short and had to drive all the way out to Parkrose Hardware to buy another. 30 minutes of driving for a 25 cent part. Oh well. Got back, spent another five minutes plumbing, then had a home brew (that plumbing still worked) before turning on the water. Everything worked great. No leaks, more pressure, and a big hole in the ground.
Now I’m waiting for the inspection. This is the first time I’ve gotten permits for anything (shhh) and I’m amazed at how easy the process was. The city of Portland has an online form for smaller permits (plumbing, mechanical, electrical) and I was able to submit and pay for a permit, as well as receive a PDF of the completed permit in under 15 minutes. Damn! I’m a little nervous the inspector is going to want me to change the configuration of the pipe as it connects to the service, so Ella and I might go to the hardware store this morning before the inspector shows to buy the parts, or we might just stay here and telecommute. Plus, I’m nervous about all the middle school kids walking by my trench. I’ve got it covered, but after watching all the New Seasons customers walk over the trench, I have a pretty low estimation of people’s courtesy and intelligence. Someone drove over the plywood I had set out to mark the work site. I watched like 10 people (most of them adults) walk over the covered hole, oblivious to the giant piles of dirt on either side. Jackass entitled liberals…
Grandpa Barn
My Grandpa Stuehrenberg passed over the weekend. He was a fantastic grandpa and brought so much joy to my childhood. As things go, his death wasn’t simple or quick, so it’s with a portion of relief that I mourn him. The rest of my family has flown back to Nebraska for the funeral, and while I don’t regret the decision, it would have been amazing to see the turnout. Not only did he have an immense family (my mom had 7 siblings), but as an athlete, soldier, milk man, insurance salesman, and county commissioner, he kind of knew everyone. He was so outgoing and interested that a 5 minute trip to the store rarely wrapped up in 20. All throughout my childhood, we’d be driving around town, or even dozens of miles away from town on some empty farm road and he’d run in to someone he knew. And he didn’t just know of them, he knew things about them, like they crops they grew, how many kids they had, what their plight was and he seemed to empathize with most of them.
Grandpa Barn (we nicknamed our grandparents after memorable objects – can you pronounce Stuehrenberg?) was a child at heart, I think, and that’s what made him an excellent grapndpa. I have so many fond memories, but I left him with one on Friday. My uncle Bill was kind enough to hold the phone to his ear for me, and who knows how many other of his children, his great grandchildren, and possibly even some of his great-great grandchildren. I recalled a failed hunting trip he took me on one fall day where we took the brown ford out to a wooded section of land outside town on a farm of someone he was friends with. We were hunting quail and spent some time traipsing through the scrub until Jesse (his english setter) flushed out some quail. He would let me shoot first, and if (when) I missed, he’d quickly shoot the bird, and Jesse would retrieve. We ended up with two birds, but he knew I wanted to shoot some more, so we set up discarded bottles and cans and he let me have my fun shooting garbage. We had intended on building a fire to make some hotdogs, but given the time and wind, decided to instead eat the cold hotdogs on the drive back. They tasted fantastic, which I’m sure had more to do with the experience than the actual dogs.
One of the last things I said to him was to thank him for loving me and accepting me, even when I showed up with hair down to my mid-back, or with what many have called a terrorist beard. A haircut and shave were two things he took very seriously, but he never let that get in the way of spending time together. Maybe he understood the importance of the time, or maybe he just knew that every single cousin would make fun of the hippie for him.
Recent milestones
In the past week, the following milestones have been reached:
- Ella asked “Are we there” in the car for the first time
- Madeline found her voice – at 5am
- Michelle turned 30
- Ella asked “Are we there” for the 100th time
- Madeline sucked on her thumb, in ernest
- Michelle went to bed without taking out her contacts
- Ella golfed for the first time
- Madeline slept without a blanket
- Michelle woke up and could read the alarm clock without glasses
Patio
Michelle and I occasionally forget that we have a toddler and infant. During those moments, we decide to do things like install a patio in the front yard; something we’d planned on for next year. Still, the idea of sitting in the front yard this summer, sipping a beer or gin & tonic while interacting with the neighborhood was a big enough attraction that we forged ahead. Saturday morning after Ella’s tumbling class, she, Michelle and I piled in to my grandpa’s truck and went to pick up stone from Oregon Decorative Rock on Columbia Boulevard. Ultimately we required one of the experts on site to provide a tie-breaking decision. Even though it wasn’t my preferred choice, I couldn’t find any fault in his logic regarding the weight and therefor cost of Michelle’s preferred stone. (900 lbs worth)
Once we had the stone on site, we dug up the rough patio area (below, marked with a hose), then shoveled the sod and a few inches of soil in to the pickup. Somehow the area ended up larger than we’d started with, so the truck was quite full. While I was heading out to Wood Waste Management (awesome), the spare tire on the truck popped off and started draggimg behind the me. I pulled to a stop, crawled under the bed, and discovered that the spare is like 110% the size of the designated spot and my shoveling arms were too tired to lift the spare over the latch. After several attempts with deteriorating results, I used the shovel and rake as opposing levers and was finally able to get the spare on, got my soaked self the rest of the way to the recycler, unloaded the sod and dirt, filled up with sand, and got home.
Less than 30 seconds after starting to shovel the sand, it started raining hard. It was Midwest hard, so I figured it wouldn’t last. I kept shoveling, then it turned to hail, and the wind came up. I bolted for the vestibule and we watched as strange torrent of rain fell on Portland. Storm gusts accompnied the rain, and it moved through the tall firs threatening to snap the giants with its unusual directions. Then, it was over. I changed my shirt and got back to shoveling sand. Michelle and I then placed stones haphazardly only to find we were about 4-5 stones short. It was quittin’ time though, so we grabbed dinner at Laurelwood and slumped in our seats through dinner.
The next morning I ventured out to get those extra stones, and once 10am rolled around, I started scoring pieces with a circular saw and masonry blade, then used a chisel to snap the pieces trying to make the edges look as natural as possible. This went on until around 1pm when we finally finished cutting and then had to finish up leveling, pounding, and sanding. By 2pm we were finished, but cleanup required finding a place for the extra 1/3 ton of sand, most of which ended up on the side of the garage “for future use.”
Being a glorious weekend, it was actually great to be outside. Ella spent much of it riding her trike down the sidewalk and back, and yelling “Hi Eric” or “Hi Erin” to the neighbors across the street. It was delightful, and we ended up with a patio that we can enjoy over the summer while engaging the neighborhood.
3 month update
Madeline is now past the 3 month mark, and with each day we discover some new facet of her that is different (or the same) as her big sister. One pleasant difference has been the 3 nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep. I know it’s fleeting, but we’ve certainly enjoyed it. Maybe it has to do with the warmer weather, which bodes well for all three of us sharing the room.
Madeline has started smiling, smirking, cooing, and shrieking in the last 2 weeks, and I’d forgotten how infectious those little things are. When she beams at you, you just forget everything. She’s also decided that she likes standing and sitting upright, so she’s less content in the swing. Not that I’m complaining, but it can make for a slight challenge when trying to shovel compost or make dinner.
Again, Ella has been fantastic with her little sister. Always understanding, or at least accommodating when Madeline needs to nurse or be comforted, even when she has to give up her spot. She’s a fine sibling, and we can’t wait for the two of them to play.
Now you’re upset?
I just don’t get these tax protests. Mum is the word for 7 years while over a trillion dollars is spent in and on Iraq, but when the money is being spent domestically, people stage protests. Protests sponsored by a news organization. I think someone has been duped.
Clipped
I re-clipped the hens wings in an effort to keep them in the run during the day. The idea is that they’ll be less likely to get out of the run and poop all over everything. Especially the back steps and the patio. Neither of the Jersey’s are as bad as Layla about flying out, but one of the two can often be found out roaming.
Layla, on the other hand is rather contrary and even after clipping both wings (this time), I found her out and about the next morning. She pooped right dead center on the patio in what I can only assume is her method of registering her disapproval of the clipping.
Noted.
The girls’ dresser
On Friday night my dad and I moved this finished dresser in to Ella’s room. It took roughly 3 months to build due to some distractions, but Ella (and Michelle) are happy to see a finished product finally sitting in the room after many afternoons over in my dad’s shop.
The idea was to build a matching dresser for the furniture my dad built for Ella’s arrival. With two girls, we were going to need a little more space for clothes and blankets. My dad is the craftsman on the project, but I tried my best to be as involved in the design and building process as time would allow. I used Sketchup to come up with an initial design after measuring the existing furniture, only to have it thrown out when my dad pointed out that it was half as wide as I intended it. “You want it to be a square?”
So the second version was much better (below), though my dad made some design changes based on things he’s learned since building the originals, and based on access to certain materials. The original dresser had a bunch of birdseye maple in it that he got on the cheap from a cabinet shop in Yakima. To get even enough birdseye for the top of this project would have tripled the price. So we went with a nice-enough selection of rock maple (some with great figuring) and used Pacific Coast maple and some poplar for the innards.
This is the first project like this that I’ve been involved in from start to finish, so I was taking every opportunity to learn from my dad. He also took the opportunity to not be sold on sketchup for design, since it seemed that we were correcting mistakes at every point of the project. I blame this more on my creating a plan and his modifications of it, so we had no single accurate plan at any given time. I also learned from some bone headed mistakes, like if you modify the height of the piece, you have to redraw all the drawers if you don’t use sketchup like a pro. Needless to say, I learned one of the most important things in woodworking – how to back out of a problem.
It was a little frustrating that it took so long (I’m sure my dad would agree, since it was holding his shop hostage), but I had a lot going on at home. And when I tried to rush in some work, I often made the biggest mistakes. But I also got to learn to use his shop and the process from design, to purchasing the wood, to planing and cutting boards, assembly, and finishing. I’d done individual parts in the past, but never all as one project.
Having made the piece, I can see all the flaws and errors, though they’re relatively minor. Hopefully it isn’t obvious to Ella and she decides she’d rather have IKEA stuff for the rest of her life. It was a lot of fun, and I’m hoping to find another project to do soon. Right after my thesis.
Perils of spring weather
Michelle and I took full advantage of the glorious weather to work the yard in to shape. We also added a third raised bed in the front yard, which Michelle agreed to with some trepidation. It’ll be nice to have another bed that gets more sun and won’t be as likely to have heirloom tomatoes plucked by passer-bys.
This evening after a second full day of yard work, we decided a walk to Pause was in order. On the walk there, we discovered that the two warm days was enough to get the ants out, and we passed through hatch after hatch of flying ants. The patio at Pause was even getting swarmed, but I seemed to be taking the brunt of the, well, nuisance. The nuisance quickly turned in to sheer terror when one ant landed on my ear lobe and crawled up and in to my ear canal. A quick finger after him wasn’t enough and he crawled in to some place that tickled like hell. The movement somewhere that only water and wax goes was the stuff of childhood nightmares. The tickling was roughly where my jaw hinged, and it was not normal. For the next 4 minutes I thrashed my head around, used my finger to suction and plunge, and finally flooded my ear with water. That seems to have done the trick, though I kept having to remind myself that the ear was a closed-enough system that nothing could go too wrong.
Still, I hope that never happens again.