How much?

 

Today was a lot like the movie Ground Hog Day. Get up, find strange men in the backyard putting up the fence to keep the dogs in and the deer out, being miserly with water, cursing the sewer line, and on and on...

We got the estimate from the plumber.  Well, let's just say it isn't as much as the worst possible number, but it came close at $1X,XXX.68

That's a lot to deal with.  In any event, the work starts early next week.  And the good news is that they won't be working in the rain. 

But they are going to be digging a whole lot of digging. 

Anyway, the utility marking people were here and the good news is that the gas line was not laid over top of the sanitary, so that's good.  And the gas line is nowhere near the sanitary sewer, so that's good. 

The downside to this is my hope of attending Roots Tech in Salt Lake City no longer exists, along with the new car I hoped would be on its way over the next three years.  So it looks like the Doodlebug will have to keep itself together until 2029.

On the plus side, a friend of mine that I met in Kindergarten came over for coffee, and we realized that it has been a half-century since she came over to my house to play!

So while I feel horrible about this expense, things could be worse.  I could have no friends left from Mrs. Bauter's kindergarten.  And that would be a shame. 

And here is the best news in the world: Ground Hog Day really is less than 48 hours away, and Ground Hog Day is Cookie's first day of Spring.  

I am having a sick headache.

 And are they ever good? 

No. 

The news on the plumbing is horrible.  

We have a collapsed sanitary sewer pipe.

How bad is it going to be? 

Really, really bad. 

And we will know the amount when the estimate is tomorrow. 

Then it needs to be scheduled because they are bringing in a backhoe, and not one of those adorable little ones, either.

We are so fucked.  

Now, we trust this plumber - we really, really do.  That's why we called this plumber. But the idea that things are so bad that it going to take him another 24 hours to estimate it all out is unnerving as fuck.

UNTIL THEN, we have been told to use "minimum plumbing" We can't run the washer.  Showers at a minimum, and the dreaded "If it's yellow, let it mellow - if it's brown flush it down" is now in effect.  

Because no one wants effluent in the basement, and we really don't want it down there because there are about 70 boxes of our stuff down there.  Luckily they are sitting about a 3" off the floor, but still. 

So, try not to make any noise, no playing in the living room, someone bring me a washcloth soaked in cool water and wrung out well and I just try and get through this sick headache. 

 

This Old House Angst: backed up drains

 

Today in Old House Angst, we are featuring backed up drains.  Went to do a load of laundry, started the machine, and noticed the floor drain well is full. Then I check another floor drain well, and it is full. 

Why, fuck it all. 

Fuck Yeah!

So now we have a call into our plumber's emergency service, and a backup (no pun intended) call to Roto-Rooter, which I loathe having to call.  The Rotor Rooter call can be canceled at any time. 

While a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, a hand in the bush is much better, so I have heard.   

So Cookie has options covered.

Nothing seems to have burbled out from the sanitary lines into the floor drains, but we do not want "effluent" in our basement. 

And why-o-why does this have to happen on a Sunday?

Obviously, the fates are testing me. 

In any event, the weather has been - in Auntie Mame speak - nothing but Diedre weeping cruel tears.  The whole yard is underwater.  I heard from the granddaughter of a previous owner that our backyard had a spring-fed pond.  Filled in many years ago, and gardens around it.  I believe it.  Maps of this area from the 1890s show tributaries to a brook.  Lucky us. 

Good lord, looking out over the acreage, I am wondering if we will need a boat. And we are not even in a low spot, either. 

In other news, the Husband and I have started watching Harlots on Hulu. Personally, I love a good girl fight, although the mention of things gleety and gleamy can make me queasy.  Still, I recommend it. 

I'll let you know when our "full" house turns into a Royal Flush. 

Oh, mother. And all this time...

 

I thought my whites were really white.1

I thought that the girls kept declining invitations because they were busy.2

I thought that Dad was my father.3

I thought Dave Garroway was talking to me, not at a camera.4

I thought that Bill and Bruce said that they were going fishing with the guys.5

I thought Al Ghazali was Aristotelian when in fact...he was actually anti-Aristotelian!6

I thought I only had to do it one time, but the truth is: I liked it. I like doing it. Now Bill thinks I am too demanding.  What is wrong with me?7

1 Detergent ad

2 Lysol ad

3 Genealogy clients after DNA returns a NPE.  

4 My father about one of his early clients

5 A wife who is confused about what he husband really gets into.

6 The Big Bang Theory

7 True Stories Magazine

Just a wee bit-o-snow

 

See, just a wee bit-o-snow.

So we got a wee bit-o-snow yesterday.  

Woke up to a winter wonderland and watched all day as it continued to snow.  The whole day.  Hour by hour. 

And from 1am to 5pm, it continued.  Oh, it slowed down alright. But it kept coming down. 

Lest anyone panic, we really didn't end up with much because it was a very fine powdery snow, fluffy and the temps kept it from getting heavy.  So in all total, we only have about 12" as I type this. 

When we told people we were moving back to Ohio, the universal chorus was "But the SNOW."

And my response was always "But they know how to deal with the snow."

The thing is, greater Cleveland really does know how to deal with snow, like a pro. 

So while we were toasty inside, the snow fell outside.  Snow plow crews kept the main arterials and freeways clear, and when they had time, they dealt with the secondary streets.  Residential streets where we live got plowed once in the day, and once in the evening.  

This morning, we got plowed again.  

Yesterday, our driveway was plowed twice by Luis in his big black truck.  Once at 1pm, and again at 10:30PM. 

And this morning, the roads are fine.  Went to the grocery, and the stores were fine.

Now in Baltimore?  Schools were closed if they suggested snow. People would be complaining about ice on the sidewalks. 

And three inches of white powdery stuff? Chaos. 

"But," they would say "the ICE".  

"Be safe," they encouraged us as if we were in Iceland and the fissures were opening under our feet.  

From 12" of soft powdery snow?

But it's just snow. Thats all.  And people from this area know it. 

Now we did drive out to Legacy Village this morning and they were getting Lake Effect Snow.  But down where we are. Not much, today. 

Nature is resilient. The birds are chirping up a party next door where our neighbors feed them.  And I went out and slapped so Crisco onto the bark of a box elder, and the woodpeckers are having a feast.  So I guess all is right with the world, right?

And wouldn't you know it, but the January thaw is coming this week.  So all this lovely snow will be gone. by Tuesday or Wednesday. 

Well, it was pretty while it lasted. 

Winter is a cruel, cold mistress

 

Aunt Doris Winter* was a cold, cold woman.

Well, it's cold here. It could have been colder, but we lucked out. 

It could be colder if Aunt Doris Winter was around.  Doris was not a blood aunt, she was a longtime friend of my grandmother's, a cold woman, lacking any warmth for anyone under 40. "Doris has been through a lot," Gramma would say. "So don't bother her."

Aunt Doris would visit Gramma if she didn't think I was around. She had no phone, so she would just show up. She would bring a Miller High Life -  just one for herself because Gramma didn't drink - and pour into a jelly jar glass, which had Flintsones graphics on it in pastel colors.   When she left, Gramma would reach up into the "sugar jar" and fish out a five-spot which she gave to the woman.  Evidently, Aunt Doris seemed to hit rough patches in life like a newly-minted driver hits icy patches on the road.  

"Everyone needs a friend," is all Gramma would say after Doris' car left the space in front of the house.

Grandpa didn't care for her, and was usually sound asleep by the time Doris would come by after lunch. That dislike reached far into the past, a past not discussed, and when asked, wasn't answered.  

At Christmas, she would leave a bank deposit envelope from the Fahey Banking Company for me, with a dollar in it, signed "Doris".  No "Merry Christmas", no "Season's Greetings".  Just "Doris." But I steered clear of the woman as the adults advised. 

I asked Mom, years later about what happened to Doris, but Mom said "She was always like that."

"Did you ever ask Gramma?"

"Cookie," my mother would say, "My mother would never discuss Doris' plight. Sometimes, life hands you mysteries that should remain just that."

_________

Back in the winter of 1994 it got down in the -20s in Columbus, so hovering around zero this past week was simply an annoyance.   The boiler on the house is working overtime to keep the first floor at 67, while the steam heat on the second floor has my home office up to Tuscon-in-Summer.  The boiler man was here this morning adjusting the fuel/air mixture, and he said "Above 10° they do find, but when its below 10°, they start to struggle."

The bad news is we really do need a new boiler.  The good news is we have some time. 

This has been a bitterly cold week in New England, the Upper Midwest, Lower Midwest, the Mid South, South, etc., and Canada. 

If anything, misery loves company.  Everyone, except Blobby, is cold.  Well, he may be cold, but Blobby doesn't let it slow him down.  He's either cooking or running or doing something. 

For Cookie, this type of cold feels heavy, like a burden.  

It takes more from you to get up and walk the dogs, to take out the trash, to get the car cleaned off.  Trips get canceled, and that sort of thing. 

And it takes a lot out of the Husband who has been working nonstop for the last week, and under a mountain of pressure.  I feel a spousal sense of obligation to help him.  So the laundry gets done and folded, errands get done, shopping gets done.  But not walking the dogs.  He needs to leave his office, which I have named the "Crows Nest", get out, get some air and walk. 

In other news, I think I found a general practitioner and a dermatologist.  Given the surgeries to remove diseased bits from me, I am due to see a GP.  And January is my mole check month. (I know, but "as we grow older", things can develop.)

Still, the people of Northeast Ohio continue to be wonderful. Every now and then you meet someone not at their best, but we all have off days. And who amongst us doesn't have a bad day, and that isn't a question. 

I have started keeping a list of all the places I want to go and see when the weather breaks.  I have research trips planned for Canton (Ohio, not China), and points south.  I have also been driving about, going down roads, and reacclimating myself.  In the spring, I want to walk the Euclid Creek path, from top to bottom.  I want to explore Lakeview Cemetery.  And I want to become more familiar with the west side.  

Sometimes we need the cold restrictive times to nest, to think, to plan, so we can revel in spring when the days grow longer, the smell of wet earth blossoms, and the crocus pop up with those first peeps of color. Mother nature has goals, and first time in a very long time, so do I. 

*Not the actual Doris, but the best representation I have ever seen.

My indoctrination thus far

 Well, I am STILL here and STILL unpacking. 

My will to go through boxes at this point waxes and wanes.   I feel energized on days when it is brighter outside - I would say sunny, but we have had but one "sunny day" since December.  During the winter, the east side of Cleveland is known for its gray days.  We get socked in with a solid cloud cover that makes the outdoor light bleak.  Oh, the sun is up there.  And If I am about 30 minutes south or west, the sun is more likely to show its face. Otherwise, I am quickly reminded of why I hated my childhood in Shaker Heights.  

Moreover, we still haven't found my full spectrum light and I am about ready to buy another.

But do I regret moving here? 

Not for a single second.  

I have all but blotted out that eleven years in Baltimore.  Oh, I know I was there, but it seems like decades ago, and fading fast.  I may need to reread this blog to remind myself of the things that happened. Or not.

As for indoctrination to "The Heights", well, I continue to find lovely people all around us.  Save for a nasty woman in Home Goods the week before Christmas - and frankly, I too can understand why she was unpleasant - everyone has been at least a good sport, but most are simply wonderful.

Streets and avenues aren't a thing here like they are down in the city of Cleveland - it's either a road, a boulevard, or in rare cases, a lane.  No "garths" either.  The is a "Mews" in Cleveland Heights; haven't been down that one yet.   Traffic lights on main roads? They are freaking everywhere.  So are "Stop" signs.

And what about the snow? Well, we haven't had one of those 12-24" storms yet.  It comes and goes.  The rain, on the other hand, has turned the back year into a bog.  

Honestly, a bigger problem are the dear herds.  They are fucking all over the place.   And Bambi doesn't trot away when humans are around.  Oh, no. They just sniff at you like you are the hoi polloi.  

We had a button buck looking into the house through the back door while I was coming up from the basement.  Scared the shit out of Cookie.  Did he trot off? No! The bastard just looked at me like I had farted in a packed theater. 

Still, the wonderfulness of being here outweighs any minor inconveniences.