Monday, August 31, 2015

Construction Junction: And On The Tenth Day

Ten days of pounding at various intervals.
Ten days of heat.
Ten days of ice water.
Ten days of an outside port-o-john.
Ten days of thank yous.
Eight days of Travis taking Leroy to his parents.
Six days of wondering why they told us four.
Five days of working from home.
Two days of doughnuts.
One pair of pants.

Resolves to a gorgeous new roof!

~~~~~~

It's true, I am enamored with this piece of black metal \m/ aluminum, with the gritty coating on top and the radiant barrier underneath.  I want to stare and caress her beauty, her uniformity, her protection.  I didn't think I'd feel that way either; I hear the millennials collectively chanting basic, basic, basic...   Don't care.

That's what struck me unexpectedly.  As it morphed into a tangible thing, I became fascinated by my reaction.  Certainly not like the first day of the truck backup, excitement overshadowed that by a linear foot.  I wanted to see the progress throughout the day; I kinda wanted to learn; I gained an even larger appreciation for a days' labor.  I wanted a sign with classic neon typeface buzzing the evolution of seeing today realized, where this much needed necessity was hard at work, keeping us both fashionable and safe.

~~~~~








Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Construction Junction: Home Wasn't Built In A Day

What a difference 24 hours can make, yo.

Last Monday with honors, I received my first for reals construction experience badge!  Even though there was no time to go jogging, which has been my wonderful, stress-reducing morning routine for a while now, I was ecstatic!  I was at ease, I was actually looking forward to the clunky noises because it meant it was all happening!  We were starting off the week with a 3.5 year "to do" come to light; stoked over the moon, I tells ya. 

The original plan was for a family friend, who is also a contractor, to cut back part of an overhang before our new black metal \m/ roof goes on.  It was part aesthetics, part structural.  At the same time, the roofers were supposed to lop off the unkempt, crusty hair that had seen one too many nights out.  But a few hours into the overhang work, I found out they wouldn't be partying with us that day.

drats.

Maybe it was for the best.  John could work uninterrupted and truly prepare a great new accessory for her future metal \m/ outfit.  It was loud, although not an immense amount of work, so it was a solid introduction for something I'd never been through.  I could handle the rest of the job like a champ.






~~~~~

Tuesday, 6am:
I peacefully jogged a couple miles, prepared the crews' ice water, then got the entire family ready for puppy park play.


Tuesday, 7am arrived outta nowhere:
The previous days' positive wafty feeling was still lingering, just starting to burn off like a post rain.  Even had that familiar sweet & slightly tart smell, thanks to the "hasn't been exposed in nearly 30 years" wood.  As the Clark trio headed towards the door, I optimistically envisioned Day 2 would be very similar to the events of Day 1; I mean how could it be much different?  But the front door knock changed that: the loppers were here.

Whether it was the earlier than expected arrival time or it being someone we didn't know, I put a roll of quarters into the anxious machine and hit jackpot.  There was no introduction, no hey this is my crew for today, it was a blunt can you move your car so the big ass truck can back in.  What happened to the me from yesterday?  What happened to my tough guy exterior who was looking forward to this?  Did that mean I had to give my badge back?

I did as requested, still trying to figure out why all these emotions were suddenly flaring up.  After moving the car and going back inside to see Travis, we agreed I would take Leroy to the park and he would stay in case the guys needed anything.  Plus make breakfast, which was super sweet.

While the lopping crew got straight to work and they became prospectively smaller to my rear, I ran through various scenarios for why the change of heart.  I wanted them there, but felt tense.  I trusted the company we hired, but felt inundated.  why?  The only word I kept visualizing was personal.  I tried to shake it off while at the park because I didn't want to ignore our friends or become distracted from Leroy.  But it kept plucking at my nerve core.  Could I handle this?

Construction is a very personal experience.  I realized this even before we finalized the purchase of the house, although I had no context for what it meant at the time.  When the sellers brought in people to complete a list of repairs, I kinda jokey / kinda seriously thought this is ours now and I don't know you.  please leave, dudes.  I remember standing in the kitchen watching them work outside.  Not even inside! and thinking well shit, this is new.  Then they left and all was right again.

And when the occasional minor upkeep is needed, say a plumber, we choose who is allowed over.  We're initiating the contact, not a faceless voice behind a desk.  So it's like we've already gone through the mental checking of the short term relationship and agreed (fingers crossed) it works out.


Later in the day:
I was still adjusting to the barrage of everything, when I noticed we'd forgotten to move some vegetable pots in the back.  The peppers & basil had been doing so well, the last thing should be for them to get damaged because of this crumbly, old hag.  As I was dragging them to safety, some being way heavier than others, a crew fella standing above me near a pile of busted tiles offered to help.  I smiled & declined because I was nearly done, but almost instantly the edge of the past few hours began to recede.

~~~~~

Here we are:
Therapy has illustrated connections are very important to me, even associative ones.  And since exchanging vegetable-eyes, there has been no remnants for what I experienced that Tuesday morning.  I can't convey how rad it is without sounding repetitive, so trust me.  There was even a crew change and STILL the delight of the new metal \m/ roof supersedes.

I'm fascinated, in theory, that a simple introduction, interaction between two humans is all it takes to secure the bond between client and doer?  I guess it does for lady Clark because I can breathe a little lighter these days...














Monday, August 17, 2015

Construction Juntion: The Lady Doth Expose Herself

It's been 3 1/2 years since we purchased the house, knowing the roof was the top half achilles heal; the bottom half the yard.  And today she'll undergo major surgery as we rip off the head!

You may think pffft, it's a roof.  who cares.  But picture each time it rains, the potential for the water that should remain outside, comes inside and you look around and think of all the damage something so precious can do and because fuck off California needs it desperately.  You want but don't want.  And this week marks the transition from don't want to WANT.  But WANT it all in the ways I hope it's normal environmental rain and not the scary climate change rain, which we know is happening and that makes me furious and yet in my own way I'm helping by choosing materials that support sustainability rather than pollution, ok.

At this moment the contractors are starting to peel back the dusty layers, revealing what sexy undercarriage has been waiting to breathe.  I hope it's pretty and only marginally smelly.  Noisy as all get up though, which should be fun as I work from home this week.  I hear lots of clanging and what I'm 100% convinced to be a tiny roller coaster, but they are testing the tracks so there's no teensy people screaming and putting their hands up.

~~~~~

Funny, although I'm beyond excited for the work this week, I honestly thought the entire job would be done by now.  That skewed expectation of time is another bummer lesson I've now fully learned.  Have a plan, but expect delays.  It's a bummer, but not the huge disappointment I once would have felt.  Which is pretty swell, but almost to a point that seems wrong.  Like my mind is trying to instigate chaos by hinting I should be feeling something I'm not.  silly right?  I am quite proud that shift in energy happened months ago because as I sit here alone in the house, with the drills and the pounding and the worrying about my citrus trees - the anxiousness is completely manageable.  Normally Travis is the calming voice of reason when I need it, but he's taken puppy to his parents for both their comfortability.  And I feel beyond ok, even though it's just me, some dudes & my project management skillity skillz.  Doesn't mean I'll stop fantasizing about the home equity account being empty, the drought beautiful plants & vegetables buzzing with bloom and cold ice tea sliding down our guzzlets.  It's just means I'm cucumber cool with chilling that vision short term.

UPDATES, HOW FUN!!!  At 9:32am I found out the lead roofer called in sick and the coordinator sent an email but I never received it and thus, I'm a calmly workin' gherkin.

~~~~~

BUT NEW BLACK METAL ROOF! just not starting today.  \m/





Tuesday, August 11, 2015

A Boy And His Fly

I could spend hours watching Leroy chase bugs around the house.  It's carnivorous, sure, but there is such joy in his face when he's prowling.  Plus it saves me the task of chasing said insect(s) into a cup, finding a sturdy paper to over the top, possibly doing a I'm holding a crawly in glass dance, and eventually placing it outside.  I see his brain working & thinking & anticipating where it'll jump, fly or fall.  Sometimes he pounces the wrong way, but he learns and doesn't give up.  And when he finally catches the elusive beast, he'll grab him, have a quick chomp, spit him out, watch him crawl, then do it all over again.  It's quite magnificent.

Last night he spent 3 hours chasing this one fly around the house.  He'd stop and look up at me like you see this asshole too, right?  Flying all about like a jerk.  I'd encourage him to keep at it, even sitting on the kitchen floor for nearly 20 minutes while he ran back n' forth to different points along the counter as the creature stopped for a life reprieve.

You tell him buddy, you tell him.











Friday, August 7, 2015

A Sigh Of Releaf

Mornings with Leroy:
- i wake around 6.  puppy stretches & yawns, watching from the bed as i put my sleepy eyes & legs away for another 17 hours.  unless there's a bird or squirrel, he just kinds stares while his parts warm up too
- he attends his standing early morning monkey business meeting
- i poke around at home till 7 or go running
- feed our wakened souls
- walk with the boy or walk the boy to the park* where he plays with E.D.I., Ripley, Kato, Thunder, and other fuzzy faces
- return home and rush to get ready for work, longing instead for the stress of entrepreneurship

* Leroy leads the first order of business and always has at least a second topic, sometimes even a third when we go walking.  Not sure what jostles loose, but it's 100% on schedule.

~~~~~~

When the puppy poop bag holder is empty but I can't refill it right away, I'll remove the top as a reminder.  set myself up solid Wednesday night.  But the next morning grabbed without noticing.  It wasn't until we were 10 minutes and several blocks into our walk, when Leroy hunkered over and I {queue slow motion} reached down for the pooooop bag aaaaaand noooooooooooooooooo!

I was in the hot seat:
(a) leave it                                            (b) run home for bags
(c) scoop it up via stick and leaf          (d) stare at it, hoping it decombusts ala Dio of glory

I chose (c) Final Answer

Travis and I usually wrap the leash around our wrist, like how a clown would tie a balloon to a child wanting to fly away...  I do it in case I fall to the ground in a fit of consumption, he couldn't run away.  It also helps tremendously when you need both northern appendages.

There was a large magnolia leaf and a tiny stick on the ground, so scooped the poop I did.  I started laughing, really hard at the situation because this ain't the first time...  Leroy is smiling, pacing in circles nearly wrapping the leash around my legs like c'mon dude let's go!  But I'm like we can't just take off my friend, I'm holding your agenda!

So picture Leroy on pace, his leash around my wrist and a fresh sandwich in my hands.  The only neighborhood activity I've noticed were the gossiping hens.  As we near the smell of home, the fear he's going to start pulling towards something, thus making me greatly steady the ol' lady biceps, is diminishing.  Proudly I declare "I think we're gonna make it buddy!"  And then the most lucky thing happened, a woman and her dog appeared on the corner...

Now Leroy is a friend to dogs and wishes above wish he could meet them all.  But since that's not realistic, we continually coach him to know when it is or is not ok.  At this moment, regardless of how open this little guy is, not ok!  The image of him pulling, me stumbling and turds-a-flyin is immediate; I can't get to the treats because hands are occupado, which is how we usually focus his attention.  Instead I relied on my cheerful morning voice & good looks to keep his engagement, achieving a look at me/look at the dog/repeat success rate.  I'm still laughing, speaking in a higher pitched "who's the puppiest of puppies!" voice, waving the sticky sub around to show him how cool it is to keep watch.  All the while, corner human & guest stare at the spectacle before them, silently shooting evils of confusion & judgement.

All three of us made it home and then I dropped the entire leaf in the driveway.

crap.

HAPPY FRIDAY!  time to log off~