Sunday, December 25, 2011

The shelf is ready to be hung. I sanded the devil out of it to remove the pen marks...targets for Donnie and the pellet gun. Next step was the finish. My choice was Australian Tree Oil because it is similar to Danish Oil finish. It sinks in and can be reapplied if the furniture gets that scuffy look.

time to hang the shelf. Spence came over. We both thought it would be a simple project: Use molly. Hang shelf. Boy were We wrong. The mollies wouldn't go in. It seems this house isn't constructed like the usual old house. There are no studs back there. One trip to Lowe's. My favorite salesman, Roger, showed us a new fastener. We bought a set and drove back to the house. the first one went into the wall fine. The bracket went on the screw fine. The second fastener went into the wall fine. The screw wouldn't catch. Damn. We had drilled at least 3 holes that were failures. Back to the store for another set of fasteners. This time, I tried out the screw to be sure it would go into the fastener. yes it does. Spence is working on the second attachment when Joe comes in from New York state. Joe was my husband's good friend. He became my friend, too....helping me with all sorts of projects. Joe can do anything with a tool. Both Joe and Spence decided the fastener had made too big a hole in the wall. It needed a washer. Found one in the box. Every one has a box to throw stuff in when you don't know where the tool goes. Anyways, the second fastener was up and the bracket attached. This simple project took 5 days. All that is needed is to fill all those useless holes and repaint. That's for after Christmas.


Saturday, December 03, 2011

One of the things I did over Thanksgiving, was to pick up the shelf that my son in law made for me. I need the shelf to hang over the peg board that holds my coats. It is fastened on the wall near the front door. The shelf will hold the mittens, scarves, hats and boots that don't fit on the pegs.
Don apologized when He handed me the project. It had marks on it. He made this shelf for me from a scrap of board he had saved specifically for this project. His son used the board for target practice in the basement. There are dings all over it from being shot at. Don filled the dings and explained how they got there.
It is my opinion that the dings become an interesting feature of the shelf. They are now house archeology....marks that tell a story. Some day, Donnie will see those dings and remember being a teenager, target practicing on the board in the basement of the house he grew up in.
My husband had post polio syndrome. His right leg was paralyzed. He walked with a brace. In order to go up and down stairs, He had to swing the leg , scraping the stairs. Over time, it wore down a spot on every stair in the house. I think of Bob every time I see the worn spots.
When I was a little girl, my mother took down the curtains in the kitchen, cleaned the room and painted the cabinet doors. I was a toddler. I found the curtain rods, swinging them around and banging on the freshly painted cabinet doors. The dings went deep because the wood must have been soft. I presume they are still there.
My daughter , a preteen at the time, could not have a pen, pencil or something that scratches, without marking something up. She was talking on the phone with a pin in her hand.. doodling...making a design in the bench she was sitting on. It is still there...ditto her name on the organ.
The best archeology marks are from a friend. She tells the story that she announced to her parents that she and her husband had made a purchase offer on a house. It was accepted. The mother was excited, as it was the house she grew up in. After the sale was completed and the family moved in, the elder couple took the younger couple up to the attic. There, behind the attic door, were pencil drawings on the wall. The mother had made then as a child on a rainy day to amuse herself. You bet they will never be removed .


Thursday, December 01, 2011

One of the first things to do after returning home from a trip is to check the answering machine. I was shocked and saddened to learn that my next door neighbor, Butch, had passed. He was my age...a month younger. The funeral was held while I was away, preventing me from attending. It happened very quickly, so it was a blessing for him. However, it should have happened when He was 99 years of age. There were projects He was looking forward to completing. God did not give him enough time to complete those projects. Some people bring their own sunshine with them. Butch was one of those people.
...more later on this very nice neighbor.
Second message on the answering machine was my tenant's mother had passed. I knew she was ill, but again, this was a very fast passing.
Those readers with a dominant left side of the brain can say of course this happens. It is only demographics. It is the age of that generation. Expect it. My neighborhood has many retirees living here. Expect them to pass. It is on the agenda.
Those with a dominant right side of the brain, feel the loss and emptiness that remains. There is a loss in the fabric of my reality. People are missing. I am not used to this. There was no time to mentally and emotionally prepare. I am adrift.