We've got a connection

We've been back in touch with the ether for a week now but every time I think about it, it makes me giggle. Why, you wonder?

Alright, let me relate the tale of the day the Cable Guy came to visit the Darling Duckling.

`Twas Friday, and the mourning doves
Did gyre and gimble did he came:
All heatin' was the bricket stove,
And the home raths outgrabe.

"Beware the aged wood , my son!
The studs that stand, the joists that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal drill in hand:
Long time he tried as best he ought --
No chance - paused he by the door,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he drilled,
The ancient wood, with heart of steel,
fought tooth and nail,
And smoke wafted as he kneeled!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal drill went snicker-snack!
A hole here and there ahead
He went a-drilling back.

"And, has thou slain the age old wood?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

Yeah, I know. That was bad. I sure hope Lewis Carroll will forgive my butchering of the Jabberwock's poem. Anyways, the cable man came all set to hook us up with Internet, Phone and TV (we're junkies like that). After poking around the house and obviously happy to hear about where we wanted things placed, he went right to work, updating the cable mess outside before coming back to drill the necessary holes. Right.

He brought out the big drill with a drill bit the length of my arm and then some. Holy Cannoli, I thought he was going to drill all the way to China (or Germany for some extra channels perhaps?).
He moved a couple of boxes to find a convenient spot above the baseboard and next to the window to drill the hole for the phone line, aimed and started drilling.

And drilling.
And drilling.
And drilling.

Until he was leaning against the drill with all his weight at a 25 degree angle. I was wondering if the last load of laundry was finished so I'd have a clean towel to wrap around his bleeding head in case the drill finally went through the wall and he bashed his head against the window frame.

Luckily, the Darling Duckling was looking out for him and us.

There was simply no drilling through that spot he'd chosen. It smelled smokey, there's plenty of dry wall dust on the floor but I guess he'd hit a stud and drilling through those is an artform.

[Hole No. 1]

"What on earth did they use to build this house?!"

Famous words ...heh.

"Wood."

Never heard a more smart-ass answer than that, haven't you? I'm not sure he believed me at first. He tried another spot on the other side of the window (same distance so I guessed he'd hit the stud on the other side ... which he did) and then a few inches next to that hole.

The siding didn't give him as much of a battle and he finally broke through! There's much cheering and rejoicing. I also warned him that he'd only get ONE. SINGLE. SHOT at drilling through my beautifully refinished floors to run the cable for the TV. Fortunately, Cable Guy now knew what to expect and while it took a while he did manage to drill a hole through my floors and subflooring without turning them into Swiss cheese.

[Hole No. 2 and hole No. 3 with cover plate]

You know, we choose flat finish paint in order to tone down some of the drywall imperfections but right now it's a blessing to have it because touching it up is so much easier. And for some odd reason, there's always a whole lotta touching up going on here ... hmmmph

"Em-Brass-ed" to admit

The average builder's love child appears to be glossy shiny brass. It's everywehere, it's usually your most inexpensive choice of finish and it lasts, much to a new homeowner's dismay: brass hinges, brass door knobs, brass lightfixtures and more in your ebdrooms, your kitchen, your bathrooms and your livingroom. There's no escape! All you can do is frown, shudder and either dig into your wallet to buy replacements in bronze or chrome or nickel or whip out a can of spray paint.

Lately, however, I have noticed something scary.

No, really.
Something earth shattering.

I find myself ... hold your breath! ... liking brass.

There, I said it! "Brass" and "like" in the same sentence. And the world is still revolving around the sun. Phew! Lucky me!

It all started with these guys here

[Floral pattern handrail brackets - Source: Van Dyke's Restorers]

When looking for an option to affix our stair handrail to the wall in a much more pleasing manner than re-using the very industrial and pretty ugly steel brackets I ended up browsing the vintage options on the Van Dyke's webpage. Those floral pattern brackets caught my eye - nice and solid and the price was absolutely right ($11.99 per bracket). Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, our current go-to finish "Oil rubbed Bronze" was sold out but the antique brass finish looked so close, yet gave the pattern much more impact due to being lighter in color that we decided to give it a try. Van Dyke's customer service has always been great that we didn't worry about issues returning them in case we didn't like them.

Here they are again, with the ugly shiny brass one removed, for direct comparison. The antique brass finish is the one on the left, the oil-rubbed bronze one on the right.

[Brass Bad Boy vs Bronze Boomer]

When they finally arrived in the mail, we were ecstatic! The color is best described as a warm golden brown allowing for much greater contrast within the design of the item. Crevices are darker, closer to an oil rubbed bronze finish while areas exposed to light glow a warm chocolate-brown with hints of gold. Husband and I are definitely sold on vintage brass. Pictures of our stair handrail and its brand new sharp-looking brackets will follow soon - promised!

In the meantime I managed to snatch up a pair of tall vintage brass lamps with a lovely aged patina at the Good will pound store for $2 each and a vintage brass oval tray with mirror for $1.99. Pictures to follow soon (hopefully tomorrow). We're still firm within moving chaos's hand and certain things (ahem ... digital camera download cable ...ahem) are somewhat difficult to locate.

The allure of flooring options

I don't know about you but every time I head over to either the orange or the blue box to pick up one little thing, I end up losing 2 hours between the shelves. I simply get carried away nosing through fixture options, researching door options in a spur of the moment decision, marvel at the number of knobs and pulls and get sucked into the paint selection aisles fondly petting paint chips.

During one of those extended visits I also hit up the flooring aisle and stumbled across the resilient flooring options.

I usually abhor vinyl and linoleum, especially after having to live with it for a while and seeing it at the Duckling before we ripped it out, but the resilient vinyl plank flooring under the name "Allure" did catch my eye. I even snatched a couple of samples to take home and was pleasantly surprised that if you looked down at a wood-style sample casually dropped on the hardwood floors of our rental you were hardpressed to out it as vinyl.

Intrigued I showed it to the husband, prepared with cost rundown and online reviews. We stewed over it for a while, then decided to go for it in our laundry room. After all it is specifically advertised for high traffic areas (check - the laundry room is also the gateway to the back yard), areas with higher moisture (check - laundry room, 'nuff said) and comes with a 25 year warranty (no worries until after the Little Man finishes college).

The online reviews we discovered also encouraged us: ease of installation, looks great, price is right, no expensive prep work. All said and done we went to the orange box and ordered enough Allure resilient plank flooring in "Slate" to cover our laundry room.

The boxes shipped right from Georgia in time for Mother's Day and since we're running dangerously close to not having anything to wear unless we get the laundry room finished and the washer and dryer hooked up again, dear husband went right to work!

[Clean sweep!]

After cleaning the subflooring in the laundry room and making sure no untoward nails were poking out where they shouldn't, we ripped into the boxes.

[It's getting late - apologies for the dark pictures]

The instructions are simple and very straightforward although husband mentioned he'd wished for some extra information. I think the only information missing on the package I feel we could have used would be the suggestion to start by the door you walk into the room rather than the opposite wall. Dear husband did a great job laying the flooring without it, though.

[Husband hard at work]

Rather than using doublesided tape to fix the first plank into place, we used tack nails to make sure it wasn't going anywhere. The plansk attach to eachother, not your subfloor or existing floor. No messy glue and no future owners cursing you for slathering everything with hard to remove glue. Yay!

Once the first row was in place, things went smoothly and surprisingly quickly. The plank is easily cut with an Xacto or carpet knife and the staggering of seams happens almost naturally if you cut your plank at the end of the row and use the small piece to start your next one.

[Awful After shot: It's dinner time, it's dark and there's nowhere to put the empty boxes until trash day]

All done, just in time for dinner! This was quick, easy and painless for us beginning DIYers and it looks and feels very nice. It looks like a hybrid between grey-stained concrete and painted wood floors depending on how you look at it. Sometime during the week Phil will swing by to trim out the room and we'll be open for laundry business again!

The fireplace that is - of a sort

Ahhh, the fireplace. Yes, that one had us stumped from the moment we set eyes on it. I mean, yes, I know this is Florida and a fireplace isn't really a "sine qua non", a must-have item in your home without which you cannot exist but who'd remove the firebox and then brick up the opening of a humongous brick fireplace that is THE absolute focal point of your livingroom?

Not me.

You probably wouldn't do it either but in the Duckling's past somebody did just that.

Now what to do with it? I went into some of my musings here and here but this problem occupied my thoughts for quite a while. What to do? Our budget wouldn't allow us to do an entire remodel of the fireplace. Or a rebuild. Leave it as is? No way! So one day - while browsing houzz.com for ideas and inspiration - I came across three magical words: Wall Mounted Fireplace.

That sounded doable. Very doable. We'd get the looks of a fireplace and thanks to advancement in gel technology even the crackling of an actual fire without having to worry about chinmney liners, vents and/or gaslines. Searching the internet for types brought up a wealth of different styles for any size wallet. This could actually work!

I managed to snag a great deal on a simple, almost craftman-style copper-colored wall mounted fireplace with a whole box of gel cans on Amazon.com

After busting out the bricked up opening where the original firebox used to be (read more about that here) we covered the whole with a piece of plywood and sealed the edges against drafts from the chimney with "Great Stuff".

[All sealed and carved to shape]

I enjoy messing around with spray foam insulation. It's like Playdoh for adults except you have to wait until it skins over before you can touch it without getting gooey sticky hands. Funny enough, it also keeps growing so you end up having to hack and carve it into shape.

Since you could see the spray foam-ed seams through the front of the wall mount fireplace I gave it a quick coat of black paint.

[Ready, set - fireplace!]

After the paint had dried I wedged and shimmed the wallmount fireplace into its new opening and caulked it into place. While I'm not concerned about it starting a fire at the drop of a hat - these things are meant to be hung on your wall after all - I did use caulk especially made for fireplaces. [Almost done: Before caulking]

And just like that we have a fireplace of a sort. The cost break down runs along these lines

1. Great Stuff (2 cans) $7
   
2. plywood scrap (free on hand)
   
3. fireplace caulk ($5)
4. wallmount fireplace ($70)
5. hours of labor husband spent busting through brick and wife hauling brick: priceless

Good-bye Silver St

Dear Silver St. House

For the past 6 years you have been our home in Historic Springfield. And what a great home you have been!

[Lovely original windows and hardwood floors in the livingroom]

[Hallway with tall tall ceilings]

I still remember the first day we met you. Our lease at an Arlington Apartment complex was nearing its end and we'd started looking for another place to move to. Some place nice, close to work, that wouldn't feel as crowded and anonymous.

[The Butler's Pantry came with a portal to another dimension -

or how else would all of our stuff have fit into it?]

Browsing the paper for ads I discovered that there were affordable rentals available in one of my favorite historic neighborhoods - we'd been cruising the blocks of Springfield on the weekends to marvel at the architecture and tree-lined alleys and liked the eclectic mix of urban vibe and suburban quaintness. Toss in the view of tall office buildings over the verdant tree tops - kind of like New York's Central Park area - and we were sold.

[Original Victorian Coal Fireplace in the Master Bedroom]

[Gonna miss my jungle view from the kitchen]

We fell in love with you the moment we walked up the stairs: hardwood floors, a sun-flooded den toward the front of the house, a humongous front porch and great bedrooms.

[Our front porch aka the livingroom]

You wooed us with your historic charms: the hex tile and clawfoot tub in the bathroom, the tall ceilings and the Victorian fireplaces with their cameo-style covers. And you came with the sweetest landlady we could hope to find.

[Our bathroom - tiny but sweet]

Just like our Darling Duckling now, you felt like a comfy well-worn slipper, the kind you return to after a long day's work and slip into with a sigh of contentment and relief. You taught us about life in a historic home and played a big part in us wanting to stay in Springfield and to own our own historic home.

You were home to us for 6 years, and we will treasure those years always.

Moving - The Saga

If anybody had told me that it'd take us close to three weeks to move all of our belongings from point A to final destination B, I probably would have shaken my head and laughed. Or run screaming. I mean, come on. How many things could you possibly fit into 3 teeny closets (old houses have really small ones), a narrow butler's pantry and a small back porch?

Turns out, waaay more than expected. Way, way more! And if you thought, you'd been good about sorting and decluttering before the first moving day (of three, total), think again.

We started off strong three weekends ago with a truck from U-Haul and armed with a big load of liquor store boxes. We loaded the entire truck, unloaded it at the Darling Duckling and congratulated ourselves on getting so much moved so easily. Ha! Ha, I say!

The following week, I made quick runs with smaller single car loads from rental to house but didn't feel too alarmed that the pantry shelves weren't packed into boxes entirely yet. We had planned for another truck and some beefy armed, gutsy movers to help us with the big stuff aka the sleeper sofa, the art desk, dressers, beds and the laundry set-up so we could easily toss another box or two on the truck and be done.

WRONG!

Moving all of our hardware - which isn't much, mind you; When it comes to actual furniture, our abode was and is sparsely equipped, really - took us two trips instead of one. At the end of the day, we were pooped. And there was still stuff left at the rental that needed to be moved. Argh!

Dear husband estimated that we had a good 8 hours of packing and moving left to do and while I took the 2 hours I used to set aside for painting and other DIY projects every day at the Duckling house and packed and moved for the next 4 days, guess what? Yep, there was still MORE.

What on earth $&**(??? It felt like every time we drove one load over, somebody stopped by and dumped a new load into the rental. It was utterly surreal. That couldn't all be our stuff, could it? I mean, where did we keep all of these things?! Truth is, our Butler's Pantry held almost incredible amounts of bits and bops: from tablecloths and vases to tools and discarded electronics and everything in between.

[Packed to the gills]

This past Saturday we made our final push: from 10am until 7pm we packed, loaded, drove, unloaded and headed back again. We sorted mercilessly, until nothing but our bikes and a big for sale/donation pile were left. Sunday we tried our luck at a very short notice "Stuff be gone Sale", made a handful of dollars and then every.single.thing.left went to the curb with a curb alert notice to the local craigslist.

Monday we had a cleaning lady come in to give the apartment a final scrub, we rode the bikes over to the Duckling and it was D-O-N-E.

[It's craaa-aaa-aaazy]

And that would be a great thing if it weren't for the fact that our Darling Duckling is now stuffed with boxes most of which don't have labels ...

-THUD!-

This post was brought to you in the spirit of "Keeping it real" ... heh

Radio Silence

[source: toothpastefordinner.com]

I'm sneaking in a few minutes of private computer time at the office so that y'all don't feel like we've fallen off of the face of the earth.

We did it!

We moved!

We slept at the Ugly Duckling!

We used the brandnew stove and sink and fridge and dishwasher!

We ate take-out for 2 days!

It's a mess!

It's dusty!

There're boxes -everywhere-!

It's heaven!

[We've been promised TV, internet and cable by Friday. Once that is straightened out, regular updates should resume. Really!]