Snap it out, Rock and Roll

Snap it out refers to using a tape measure, a chalk line, and some plans on a slab of concrete and measuring the lines and then 'snapping' the chalk line to create an imaginary line on the concrete to be ignored by the framer later. In the grade school I went to as a kid, that meant something much different. I currently have the worst case of buyer's remorse I have ever experienced. I will get over this, I trust, but right now I see money going out (or should I say the loan going up) and not being able to live in the filth.

Rock and roll refers to the putting up the wood. Building it. You know, up.

Hard and Flat

...like my stomach...or my head...or the concrete in by back yard. I want you to know that it has been more trauma for the dog than anyone else. She can't go outside because they put a curing agent on the concrete that smells like crude oil. I guess it did the trick, though, because my concrete is hard. Debi likes her concrete like she likes her men...grey and outside.

So, this weekend I went with Koller to ASU Wells Fargo Arena and saw the Sun Devil football team. We got signatures on our posters and helmets that we had and we had a fun time.

Don't tell anyone but Koller and Toni agreed to take Tish. That will help with the concrete thing, and the chaos that is my addition...poor Tishy.

Ame

The word for rain in Japanese is ame. And plenty of it. I would not care at all except I have trenches full of water waiting to be filled with cement. I failed er, uh, cancelled my inspection on Tuesday because I had trenches full of water. I didn't know that they should not be full of water when the inspector shows up for the footing inspection. I did, however, dry out and pass inspection on Wednesday. But, the concrete guy couldn't pour on Wednesday and Thurdsay (today) it is raining. And lightninging. And thundering. Too fun. My trenches, however, are so full I could bathe in them. I don't know how this will effect us but I hope it will give us a little break, soak in, and be ready to pour tomorrow. We will see. I will go buy a pump today. I hope this helps.

Marci called me last night and told me she went to see Dave Matthews. Killin' me.

The Password is Tlaquepaque

Wikipedia says Tlaquepaque means "place above clay land". For our birthdays, Debi and I went to Sedona. Arizona. We stayed in a lovely little place called the Sky Ranch Lodge - named because it is next to the airport. Now, with Sedona being a hub for one Cessna 172, this was no trouble. The hotel was 'rustic' without 24 hour room service. Not that this is a deal breaker. The thin walls and blairing television at 6:30am Sunday, however, was. Not to worry, we were troopers and got through that ordeal with grace and style.

We mostly watched television, ate, and drove extensively all over that part of the world. Which is gorgeous. Jerome was probably the highlight. We went to the old ghost town there, we ate in Clarksdale, or Clarksville, or Clarkstown at Su Casa - voted best in Clarksbury for two years running. I don't think they have voted for 2006 yet, but I'll cast my vote. It was the best restaruant in which I have ever eaten in Clarkshollow. Such a treat.

We went over to Tuzigoot. Not much to report but I had to work in the word Tuzigoot. As much fun to say as it is to visit.

On our way out of town we visited the guard shack of the Enchantment. Why didn't we go farther? Because Wilford Brimley/Jayson Rhobards at the guard shack took his job seriously. Debi says the only reason he was kinda nice to us was because I made him laugh. We were refused enterance but were given brochures. Check out their website. Our money was not good there anyway. Tennis and Spas and stuff.

Our parting meal was at L'auberge. We all know that the apostrophe (') stands for something. This one, for example, stands for ($). We went for Sunday brunch. I was worried that we would have to pay the $17.95 I expected but Debi was worth it. Saturday's breakfast was Egg McMuffins® so we saved up a little cash for Sunday. After we sat down next to Oak Creek, watched the bubbles rise out of the Champagne flutes on neighboring tables, and saw the menu, we realized we were in for a little more than that. Prime rib, eggs benedict, shrimp, lobster, crab, couscous, an omlet bar, waffles, french toast, vegitables, and a dessert table feature 10-12 different confections, etc. We overheard the waiter tell a guest that the meal was all-inclusive at just $38 per person. Oh, wait, let me restate that -- $$$$$$38 per person. Great food and great atmosphere. Our white trash was showing a little as we ate.

What a great trip we had. Special thanks to Debi. She was AWESOME. I love her and tried to show her a good time there. I think she was generally pleased with the trip. I think next time we will be a little more conventional.

Con or De Struction

Well, the demo is done. The demolition team came in Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning. Now my patio is gone. They took it all. Concrete is next -- I will meet them this morning (Friday). This is Olivia attempting to run the Cat. She made a video, too...



The demo crew, I am told, was not a complement of full-time employees. Ours was such a relatively small job that a regular crew was unwarranted. There were two, Steve and Junior, and they were great. The rest of the 'humpers' were temps. The first day there were two women among the temp crew. It was hard to get a good look at them through their hard hats and sweat.

The first one was ugly. What she lacked in teeth she made up in height. She was tall -- around six feet. She had no upper teeth so she swallowed her whole face when she chewed. And swore. From under her hardhat she had kinda reddish straw hair that looked like a wig. Very damaged. And split ends. A makeover nightmare if you know what I mean. I wouldn't know where to start. Maybe if I shipped her off to Tampa she could have some real professionals help her find her fountain of youth. She lasted one day.

The second 'girl' was hard. About five feet tall, she looked like she ate as much concrete as she tossed. If I had to write her story it would go something like this: She has one kid, came-out-sideways-she-didn't-scream-or-nuthin' style. Temporary demolition crew worker by day, UFC cage fighter by night -- men's, that is. Pays more. She lights her next cigarette with her last one. She has a wheezy, phlegm laugh. She drinks Heineken Extra Dark. Nobody would do her for fear it would snap off. How do I explain the kid? She got knocked up in a bar fight.

Nightmare on Nance Street, Day 3

So, Caitie came in the other morning and said, "Nightmare on Nance Street, Day 2" which I promptly stole for the title of the start of the chronicle of this little remodel project we are attempting. I, your host (and amateur general contractor), am running this build, which is more of a demolition to start. I am not working without a net: I have some contractor friends who have been holding my hand and have really gotten me off on the right foot. This means that we have successfully started, anyway. I will try to post pictures of the carnage as well. The strangest thing happened last Saturday. A man came to the door, dressed in tatters, of Mexican decent with no teeth. He spoke no English. He wanted to pull some weeds for me. I knew this because he made the international hand-gesture for pulling weeds. I made the international hand-gesture for "OK, Pedro, pull all you want. Can I get you a drink of water." He informed me that his name was Ramon. How did I know, he wasn’t wearing a name tag. So, he drank a sip and requested a plastic garbage sack, and he was off. Now, I may be wrong, but I am not required to determine citizenship as a private resident nor am I judgmental enough to assume he is anything but above board, but my senatorial hopes may be dashed on this one.

When Ramon finished, he came to the door, frightening the children. They don’t know that I actually asked him to weed. They wanted to know if he was homeless. They wanted to know if he was dangerous. They wanted to know why he was there. So, I invited him back ‘next week’ and he said he would come. Monday morning at 6:00am he returned and I had some other things for him to do. School started so everyone was up and besides, by the time he had arrived, the jack hammering had commenced so there was not much sleeping going on.

To make a long story longer, Ramon came Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He cleaned, pulled, trimmed, and cut, and even did some work in the yard. Badum Ching. I’ll be here til Friday. Try the veal. He filled 12 45-gallon garbage bags full of trimmings and weeds and did a fine job. And I didn’t even have to go to Gilbert and Broadway to get him.

So, on day 3, we have a large dirt patch in our back yard ready for concrete. That’s next. Oh, and I have to order the windows. I call the 6:00am to 9:30am shift my first job, and my normal job my second job. I hope I survive to day 4.