kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (My poncho boys)
At Some Point, You Just Start Laughing
  • So, we're still waiting for one more piece of battery cable harness to be delivered from Ford to Smitty's Auto. Because the "fix" they did on one of the battery cables didn't. And the new battery continues to be drained, and starting the car after more than an hour or two of being off is a near-impossibility. Not quite impossible, but ... yes, yes, I want. My. Car. Fixed. *goes, looks at the intriguingly red-tinged checkbook. Sighs*
  • Aaaand then I walk over the carpet directly above the access pipe placed in our hall. It's wet. It's someone's laundry water, complete with a delicate froth of suds. Twenty-five seconds of complete, bone-melting panic ... then we check: no water coming up in the laundry room. No water coming up in the furnace room.  On to the building's furnace room, site of so much, uhm, crap over the last few months - nope, no water, sludge or worse there. So, OK, that's not bad. The requisite call to the Good Plumbers, the requisite call to the condo association - and both respond without a hitch, with an appointment tomorrow, and a check with which to pay for said appointment. And, yes, in answer to your unvoiced question - the problem goes right back to The Plumbers From Hell of years gone by. If I could hunt them down and do them harm, I would. You doubt me? Come over and look at my hall floor, and doubt no further.
  • And then? I got some work done. And then Bob kissed me, and I hugged him. And my son came home with the Fender Esquire (a 1 pickup modern copy of the precursor to the Telecaster) that one of his friends got him for his birthday  - pause here for complete and utter happy and bewildered crogglement, Evan, you are just amazing - and father and son bonded over really loud chords. And I watched Project Runway (still watching, actually), and am cheering on four talented young designers. And I talked to my mom and vented, and made her laugh. And I vacuumed the dining room. What, you think that doesn't make me happy?
  • So, yeah. Not too bad, all told. But the car had better be fixable tomorrow, or I shall weep large and salty tears.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (My poncho boys)
At Some Point, You Just Start Laughing
  • So, we're still waiting for one more piece of battery cable harness to be delivered from Ford to Smitty's Auto. Because the "fix" they did on one of the battery cables didn't. And the new battery continues to be drained, and starting the car after more than an hour or two of being off is a near-impossibility. Not quite impossible, but ... yes, yes, I want. My. Car. Fixed. *goes, looks at the intriguingly red-tinged checkbook. Sighs*
  • Aaaand then I walk over the carpet directly above the access pipe placed in our hall. It's wet. It's someone's laundry water, complete with a delicate froth of suds. Twenty-five seconds of complete, bone-melting panic ... then we check: no water coming up in the laundry room. No water coming up in the furnace room.  On to the building's furnace room, site of so much, uhm, crap over the last few months - nope, no water, sludge or worse there. So, OK, that's not bad. The requisite call to the Good Plumbers, the requisite call to the condo association - and both respond without a hitch, with an appointment tomorrow, and a check with which to pay for said appointment. And, yes, in answer to your unvoiced question - the problem goes right back to The Plumbers From Hell of years gone by. If I could hunt them down and do them harm, I would. You doubt me? Come over and look at my hall floor, and doubt no further.
  • And then? I got some work done. And then Bob kissed me, and I hugged him. And my son came home with the Fender Esquire (a 1 pickup modern copy of the precursor to the Telecaster) that one of his friends got him for his birthday  - pause here for complete and utter happy and bewildered crogglement, Evan, you are just amazing - and father and son bonded over really loud chords. And I watched Project Runway (still watching, actually), and am cheering on four talented young designers. And I talked to my mom and vented, and made her laugh. And I vacuumed the dining room. What, you think that doesn't make me happy?
  • So, yeah. Not too bad, all told. But the car had better be fixable tomorrow, or I shall weep large and salty tears.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Vizard)
Assorted Observations
  • Only in Casakaffyr is it considered completely unremarkable to include "pick up the 3 dozen loose unused googly eyes of varying sizes off the floor" in the cleaning regimen.
  • After too many months, and a few too many necessary schedule re-routings, the carpet cleaners are here. Could our long and dirty carpet nightmare at last be over? The nice young man is here, spraying orange-smelling cleaning fluid over the carpet, the freaked-out cats have headed for parts unknown, and I? I am in a fever of anticipation for two hours from now, when all will be clean.
  • The two funniest short pieces of fanfic I have read in a dog's age are here, presented, upon behalf of her very talented friend Kristin, by the inimitable Woman of Genius [livejournal.com profile] earlgreytea68 . They are gently, mockingly, self-referentially celebratory and representationally gleeful in their love of Sherlock. Go! Read!
  • Speaking of fanfic, I wrote 1,000 more words over the past 30 hours on my OT3 h/c bingo fic (ah, fandom! Ah, LJ fanfic-speak! I love speaking in code!) and I am almost hubristically pleased with myself, for which I beg the forbearance and forgiveness of the lords of chance. Still - 1,000 words, when I wasn't, strictly speaking, looking? w00t!!1!
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Vizard)
Assorted Observations
  • Only in Casakaffyr is it considered completely unremarkable to include "pick up the 3 dozen loose unused googly eyes of varying sizes off the floor" in the cleaning regimen.
  • After too many months, and a few too many necessary schedule re-routings, the carpet cleaners are here. Could our long and dirty carpet nightmare at last be over? The nice young man is here, spraying orange-smelling cleaning fluid over the carpet, the freaked-out cats have headed for parts unknown, and I? I am in a fever of anticipation for two hours from now, when all will be clean.
  • The two funniest short pieces of fanfic I have read in a dog's age are here, presented, upon behalf of her very talented friend Kristin, by the inimitable Woman of Genius [livejournal.com profile] earlgreytea68 . They are gently, mockingly, self-referentially celebratory and representationally gleeful in their love of Sherlock. Go! Read!
  • Speaking of fanfic, I wrote 1,000 more words over the past 30 hours on my OT3 h/c bingo fic (ah, fandom! Ah, LJ fanfic-speak! I love speaking in code!) and I am almost hubristically pleased with myself, for which I beg the forbearance and forgiveness of the lords of chance. Still - 1,000 words, when I wasn't, strictly speaking, looking? w00t!!1!
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Orihime yay!)
Carpets Concluded!
     Weeeell, almost concluded. The area of  dining room and hallway carpet which had to be sliced, torn and generally damaged this past January, as part of Plumbing Hell Redux, has been replaced and repaired. I no longer have to watch my feet in order to keep raggedy carpet edges from tripping me up! Huzzah!
     All that remains is to have the hallway and dining room carpet steam cleaned, to match the nice new carpet that the repair team put in. Oh, and once again, I have to tout Luna Carpets to the skies; they came in and were done in under an hour, and the work was done for less than $200, — a fact our Association undoubtedly loves, since it has to pay for the work. Tomorrow I find a decent cleaning service, and set up an appointment for next week. Yessss!!!!!!
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Orihime yay!)
Carpets Concluded!
     Weeeell, almost concluded. The area of  dining room and hallway carpet which had to be sliced, torn and generally damaged this past January, as part of Plumbing Hell Redux, has been replaced and repaired. I no longer have to watch my feet in order to keep raggedy carpet edges from tripping me up! Huzzah!
     All that remains is to have the hallway and dining room carpet steam cleaned, to match the nice new carpet that the repair team put in. Oh, and once again, I have to tout Luna Carpets to the skies; they came in and were done in under an hour, and the work was done for less than $200, — a fact our Association undoubtedly loves, since it has to pay for the work. Tomorrow I find a decent cleaning service, and set up an appointment for next week. Yessss!!!!!!
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (My poncho boys)
I Like Salt
And therefore, salt mines are good. It's back to them tomorrow, after one week of unpaid vacation, starting with an interview at 10:15 a.m. With a police officer. About traffic safety programs. I am excited.

And what have we done on vacation, she asked herself... )
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (My poncho boys)
I Like Salt
And therefore, salt mines are good. It's back to them tomorrow, after one week of unpaid vacation, starting with an interview at 10:15 a.m. With a police officer. About traffic safety programs. I am excited.

And what have we done on vacation, she asked herself... )
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Alistair and Doris)
The Dust, It Adds Texture to the Doughnuts.

I've put my Doris and Alistair icon up, because it's full of sunshine, and domestic peace. And I need both. Unfortunately, I won't have the peace part of the equation for a while, hence the icon need.

Why is my day lacking in peace? Well, for one thing, while it's Friday for most of you, it's Monday for me. By which I mean, the paper is working on a short deadline because of the pending Memorial Day holiday, and my usual Monday deadlines (we're a weekly, remember) falls today. I have three stories to write before about 3 p.m. And I'm trying to do that, check with contacts, and also deal with the other thing that's going on in the house today. And that, my friends is as follows, and is the second thing that makes me desperately long for peace  ....

The long-awaited concrete correction in my hall is underway, with all the dust and dust-covers, and the cat cowerings in the bedrooms that that implies. (Why do I need the concrete in my hall fixed? Just check the tags that read "carpet" or "plumbing" or maybe even "evil shit" and you'll get at least part of the whole sordid and slightly bad-smelling story.) The old badly-laid concrete is up, courtesy of a saws-all, and the doughnuts Bob bought to get us through the ordeal have crunchy, crunchy concrete dust all over them. Yum.

Also? The contractor is a nice guy, a professional craftsman, which I appreciate after some of the yahoos we've experienced, and a good guy. But he's also a talkative believes-in-demons-being-cast-out-and-wants-to-talk-to-us-about-it-and-religion-and-dinosaurs-and-spends-time-asking-us-if-god-loves-gays-why-yes-he-does-says-I-he-loves-all--people-who-love-people-why-the-hell-do-they-want-to-talk-to-me-and-bob-do-we-have-signs-on-our-foreheads sort of guy.

Pleasant guy, though, don't get me wrong. Just ... oh well.

And hence? Doris and Alistair, in domestic bliss, in a quiet and sunshiney garden.

As for me, well ...life in the circus is a never ending dee-light.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Alistair and Doris)
The Dust, It Adds Texture to the Doughnuts.

I've put my Doris and Alistair icon up, because it's full of sunshine, and domestic peace. And I need both. Unfortunately, I won't have the peace part of the equation for a while, hence the icon need.

Why is my day lacking in peace? Well, for one thing, while it's Friday for most of you, it's Monday for me. By which I mean, the paper is working on a short deadline because of the pending Memorial Day holiday, and my usual Monday deadlines (we're a weekly, remember) falls today. I have three stories to write before about 3 p.m. And I'm trying to do that, check with contacts, and also deal with the other thing that's going on in the house today. And that, my friends is as follows, and is the second thing that makes me desperately long for peace  ....

The long-awaited concrete correction in my hall is underway, with all the dust and dust-covers, and the cat cowerings in the bedrooms that that implies. (Why do I need the concrete in my hall fixed? Just check the tags that read "carpet" or "plumbing" or maybe even "evil shit" and you'll get at least part of the whole sordid and slightly bad-smelling story.) The old badly-laid concrete is up, courtesy of a saws-all, and the doughnuts Bob bought to get us through the ordeal have crunchy, crunchy concrete dust all over them. Yum.

Also? The contractor is a nice guy, a professional craftsman, which I appreciate after some of the yahoos we've experienced, and a good guy. But he's also a talkative believes-in-demons-being-cast-out-and-wants-to-talk-to-us-about-it-and-religion-and-dinosaurs-and-spends-time-asking-us-if-god-loves-gays-why-yes-he-does-says-I-he-loves-all--people-who-love-people-why-the-hell-do-they-want-to-talk-to-me-and-bob-do-we-have-signs-on-our-foreheads sort of guy.

Pleasant guy, though, don't get me wrong. Just ... oh well.

And hence? Doris and Alistair, in domestic bliss, in a quiet and sunshiney garden.

As for me, well ...life in the circus is a never ending dee-light.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Kat enraged)
Down With the Back Up

Do not — do not —  speak to me of plumbing.
  • My home smells like a septic tank.
  • The "waste water" was oh, so much more.
  • To get to an access point, they had to tear up the floor, because the previous plumbers cemented over the pipe they'd put in. For, you know, access.
  • The carpet is cut up, wet, and peeled back in the hall.
  • The cats are traumatized.
  • As they searched for possible starting points for our problems, the new professional plumbers found out that one of the building's water heaters is leaking.
  • And did I mention that my house smells like a dead civet in a drainpipe?
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Kat enraged)
Down With the Back Up

Do not — do not —  speak to me of plumbing.
  • My home smells like a septic tank.
  • The "waste water" was oh, so much more.
  • To get to an access point, they had to tear up the floor, because the previous plumbers cemented over the pipe they'd put in. For, you know, access.
  • The carpet is cut up, wet, and peeled back in the hall.
  • The cats are traumatized.
  • As they searched for possible starting points for our problems, the new professional plumbers found out that one of the building's water heaters is leaking.
  • And did I mention that my house smells like a dead civet in a drainpipe?
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Intensegwen)
Plumbing The Depths
     Aaaagh.
     What can I say?
     Again with the waste water backup.
     Plumbers are here tomorrow, at 7:30 a.m. and we have a check from the Association to pay them when they finish. Real plumbers, not the smiling ignoramuses who told us the job was done last time. (Bob remarked that we should have realized these guys were less than successful when we noticed one of them had few teeth in his head. A professional, successful, competent plumber would be making the kind of money that could pay for dentures, he opined. Yup. Didn't think of it back then.)
     Now all we need is someone to clean the carpet between the furnace and washer nooks.
     You know, the carpet that was the replacement for the carpet the previous backups ruined.
     Breathe, woman, breathe.
     Remember: it's not sewage, its just waste water.
     Yup, concentrating on being positive here. Really concentrating.
     Yup.
     Oh, wait - there is something good to report: the exhaust backup in the car, and the car's broken windshield washer fluid pump, have been fixed and replaced, and the old girl's running really well.
     Well. That feels better.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Intensegwen)
Plumbing The Depths
     Aaaagh.
     What can I say?
     Again with the waste water backup.
     Plumbers are here tomorrow, at 7:30 a.m. and we have a check from the Association to pay them when they finish. Real plumbers, not the smiling ignoramuses who told us the job was done last time. (Bob remarked that we should have realized these guys were less than successful when we noticed one of them had few teeth in his head. A professional, successful, competent plumber would be making the kind of money that could pay for dentures, he opined. Yup. Didn't think of it back then.)
     Now all we need is someone to clean the carpet between the furnace and washer nooks.
     You know, the carpet that was the replacement for the carpet the previous backups ruined.
     Breathe, woman, breathe.
     Remember: it's not sewage, its just waste water.
     Yup, concentrating on being positive here. Really concentrating.
     Yup.
     Oh, wait - there is something good to report: the exhaust backup in the car, and the car's broken windshield washer fluid pump, have been fixed and replaced, and the old girl's running really well.
     Well. That feels better.

Success!

Sunday, 17 February 2008 02:53 am
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (moccachino)
Done!!!!!
Today, I emptied 18 boxes of books, replaced them on shelves, helped BB move the shelves to the right place...and every room in the house (save Andy's) is set to rights. It only took nine days! The place looks wonderful! I am supernally, and unbelievably smugly, pleased with myself!
(Of course, we still have to put the pictures back on the livingroom wall, take the ladders down to the store room, neaten up around the computers and vacuum, but that's fileable, for my purposes anyhow, under Stuff We Have To Do Regularly, so I'm still justified in preening unmercifully.)

Success!

Sunday, 17 February 2008 02:53 am
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (moccachino)
Done!!!!!
Today, I emptied 18 boxes of books, replaced them on shelves, helped BB move the shelves to the right place...and every room in the house (save Andy's) is set to rights. It only took nine days! The place looks wonderful! I am supernally, and unbelievably smugly, pleased with myself!
(Of course, we still have to put the pictures back on the livingroom wall, take the ladders down to the store room, neaten up around the computers and vacuum, but that's fileable, for my purposes anyhow, under Stuff We Have To Do Regularly, so I'm still justified in preening unmercifully.)
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Default)
Retreat of the Ghastly
The carpet is in. The a) odors and b) possible VOC worries are a) less than we expected and b) may be less than we feared.  Things are definitely not back in place, but have been moved to their proper rooms. We'll take it from there over the next few days (realistically, considering my time and BB's health) I expect that to turn into a couple of weeks. At my age, I've grudgingly learned the value of patience, so that's fine.

Carpet Day turned out to be even more ghastly than I'd feared as of my last post. The carpet guys didn't leave until about midnight...we finally went out at got them Popeye's chicken, and Bob gave them a good tip. There was a point in the evening when we had been backed into our own bedroom, with just enough room for BB to sleep on his side on the floor next to the wall, whilst I sat on our ergonomic, backless chair. And did nothing...I had foolishly lost the one book I'd kept out of the box to read, the stereo and computer were offline and I couldn't go anywhere.

Then Bob had to go up to Evanston to pick up some meds at the pharmacy. He took our car, drove up Ridge Avenue, and promptly had a tire go flat after he crashed into a major pothole. Not the same tire that went flat a week or so ago after hitting a different pothole. I love Chicago roads, and this winter - all cold weather followed by rocketlike jumps to warm rainy weather, followed by preciptious drops back to cold weather - has created more potholes than any car can escape.

Bob tried to change the tire (meaning he tried to put on the almost useless tiny emergency doughnut with which most cars are outfitted these days. In the dark, and the cold, and him exhausted. He called, I went up and got him, brought him home, thinking, as I went...jeez, I should leave a note in the window of the car. Main Street in Evanston (where he limped the car in order to reach a phone for the telephonic yell for help) in winter is not a place you want to leave a car overnight. It's a snow route...Bob said he figured he'd get a ticket, then explain to someone what had happened and see if he could get the ticket neutralized, so I decided we needed to get back to the workmen.

Should have listened to my inner voice. We slept the sleep of the dead until about 2 p.m. today (I wonder what the poor carpet guys had to do. I know they worked harder than we did, and they probably had to work.) Finally got up, ate something that wasn't doughnuts or takeout chicken, then headed up to the car, where we were going to call Smitty's Garage to come and change the tire.

Except the care wasn't there. Towed. So tomorrow, if city hall is open, we get to go up there and play that game with bureaucrats. How much am I looking forward to this? Oh, so much...

But having the carpet in is so wonderful. Got up this morning, and didn't have to walk over bloody cold and dusty concrete, it really opens the house up, it's delightful on my toes, and - perhaps most wonderful of all - I'm not in dread of The Oncoming Carpet. It's done, it's over. Now all we have to do is clean up.

And get the damned car out of the damned towing company's claws. Without paying an arm and a leg. But I can do that.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Default)
Retreat of the Ghastly
The carpet is in. The a) odors and b) possible VOC worries are a) less than we expected and b) may be less than we feared.  Things are definitely not back in place, but have been moved to their proper rooms. We'll take it from there over the next few days (realistically, considering my time and BB's health) I expect that to turn into a couple of weeks. At my age, I've grudgingly learned the value of patience, so that's fine.

Carpet Day turned out to be even more ghastly than I'd feared as of my last post. The carpet guys didn't leave until about midnight...we finally went out at got them Popeye's chicken, and Bob gave them a good tip. There was a point in the evening when we had been backed into our own bedroom, with just enough room for BB to sleep on his side on the floor next to the wall, whilst I sat on our ergonomic, backless chair. And did nothing...I had foolishly lost the one book I'd kept out of the box to read, the stereo and computer were offline and I couldn't go anywhere.

Then Bob had to go up to Evanston to pick up some meds at the pharmacy. He took our car, drove up Ridge Avenue, and promptly had a tire go flat after he crashed into a major pothole. Not the same tire that went flat a week or so ago after hitting a different pothole. I love Chicago roads, and this winter - all cold weather followed by rocketlike jumps to warm rainy weather, followed by preciptious drops back to cold weather - has created more potholes than any car can escape.

Bob tried to change the tire (meaning he tried to put on the almost useless tiny emergency doughnut with which most cars are outfitted these days. In the dark, and the cold, and him exhausted. He called, I went up and got him, brought him home, thinking, as I went...jeez, I should leave a note in the window of the car. Main Street in Evanston (where he limped the car in order to reach a phone for the telephonic yell for help) in winter is not a place you want to leave a car overnight. It's a snow route...Bob said he figured he'd get a ticket, then explain to someone what had happened and see if he could get the ticket neutralized, so I decided we needed to get back to the workmen.

Should have listened to my inner voice. We slept the sleep of the dead until about 2 p.m. today (I wonder what the poor carpet guys had to do. I know they worked harder than we did, and they probably had to work.) Finally got up, ate something that wasn't doughnuts or takeout chicken, then headed up to the car, where we were going to call Smitty's Garage to come and change the tire.

Except the care wasn't there. Towed. So tomorrow, if city hall is open, we get to go up there and play that game with bureaucrats. How much am I looking forward to this? Oh, so much...

But having the carpet in is so wonderful. Got up this morning, and didn't have to walk over bloody cold and dusty concrete, it really opens the house up, it's delightful on my toes, and - perhaps most wonderful of all - I'm not in dread of The Oncoming Carpet. It's done, it's over. Now all we have to do is clean up.

And get the damned car out of the damned towing company's claws. Without paying an arm and a leg. But I can do that.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (fuck with me gun)
This is hell, it reeks of glue, and I am in it. And I have no place to sit.
A bulletin from the front....The carpet guys came to our house today (we were almost ready, with almost 50 boxes filled with much of our worldly treasure, and oh, a princely four hours of sleep on which to operate.) at about 10:40 a.m. They had the wrong underpad, so two of them had to travel from East Rogers Park back to Maywood to get the correct item. In the meantime, Bob, Andy and I had one place to sit: our crowded and tiny dining room. The living room is completely impassable, with all the furniture from our two bedrooms sitting cheek by jowl with living room furniture. We have to stay, to keep an eye on our traumatized cats (one of whom I haven't seen for half a day) and to make sure they move a couple of very, very, very fragile furniture pieces with the requisite care.

So we've sat in one of the four chairs available to us, or tried to sleep on the floor of the dining room, waiting for the bedroom phase of Operation Carpet to be done. Then we can watch them move bedroom furniture back into the bedrooms, and move living room and dining room furniture in there as well, necessitating an unwanted unplugging of the computer.

I've had a nutritious diet of coffee and doughnuts today. Andy's asleep in the most comfortable chair. Bob has escaped to the outdoor (where it's cold, slushy and awful) in an effort to evade the the VOCs in the glue.

We knew this was going to be difficult. And it is, it's ghastly.

Ghastly, ghastly ghastly.

(To be fair,
the carpet looks like it will be wonderful.)

Ghastly, ghastly, ghastly....
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (fuck with me gun)
This is hell, it reeks of glue, and I am in it. And I have no place to sit.
A bulletin from the front....The carpet guys came to our house today (we were almost ready, with almost 50 boxes filled with much of our worldly treasure, and oh, a princely four hours of sleep on which to operate.) at about 10:40 a.m. They had the wrong underpad, so two of them had to travel from East Rogers Park back to Maywood to get the correct item. In the meantime, Bob, Andy and I had one place to sit: our crowded and tiny dining room. The living room is completely impassable, with all the furniture from our two bedrooms sitting cheek by jowl with living room furniture. We have to stay, to keep an eye on our traumatized cats (one of whom I haven't seen for half a day) and to make sure they move a couple of very, very, very fragile furniture pieces with the requisite care.

So we've sat in one of the four chairs available to us, or tried to sleep on the floor of the dining room, waiting for the bedroom phase of Operation Carpet to be done. Then we can watch them move bedroom furniture back into the bedrooms, and move living room and dining room furniture in there as well, necessitating an unwanted unplugging of the computer.

I've had a nutritious diet of coffee and doughnuts today. Andy's asleep in the most comfortable chair. Bob has escaped to the outdoor (where it's cold, slushy and awful) in an effort to evade the the VOCs in the glue.

We knew this was going to be difficult. And it is, it's ghastly.

Ghastly, ghastly ghastly.

(To be fair,
the carpet looks like it will be wonderful.)

Ghastly, ghastly, ghastly....
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (fuck with me gun)
Now We Make Ready
...to redecorate, that is. We have the packing equipment, we have the painting equipment (while we have an old carpet we're not afraid to stipple with paint, we're going to erase all reminders of the bad "antiquing" job some halfwit perpetrated on our helpless north living room wall) we have the technology and we are ready and willing.

By Thursday night, the livingroom will be Samba Grey, and I will be happy.

Given the weather, (a judicious mix of rain, rain and rain, sluiced over a thick and ever-less-fluffy blanket of snow,) that represents quite a victory over the forces of numbing mid-winter ugliness.

And, in parting...do all those athletes who give the "glory to gawd" when they make the touchdown/slide home/cross the finish line take gawd to the woodshed when gawd fumbles, trips or misses the bag? One supposes that the losing team takes gawd to the woodshed a remarkable number of times.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (fuck with me gun)
Now We Make Ready
...to redecorate, that is. We have the packing equipment, we have the painting equipment (while we have an old carpet we're not afraid to stipple with paint, we're going to erase all reminders of the bad "antiquing" job some halfwit perpetrated on our helpless north living room wall) we have the technology and we are ready and willing.

By Thursday night, the livingroom will be Samba Grey, and I will be happy.

Given the weather, (a judicious mix of rain, rain and rain, sluiced over a thick and ever-less-fluffy blanket of snow,) that represents quite a victory over the forces of numbing mid-winter ugliness.

And, in parting...do all those athletes who give the "glory to gawd" when they make the touchdown/slide home/cross the finish line take gawd to the woodshed when gawd fumbles, trips or misses the bag? One supposes that the losing team takes gawd to the woodshed a remarkable number of times.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (South Park Kathy)
Five-eight-eight, two-three-hundred....
For those of you not from the Chicago area (unless the company in question has spread across the continent like a...uh..) that will mean nothing. For those of you who grew up with the Empire Carpet Man, you probably started humming the jingle as soon as you saw the heading. For the uninitiated, that's (cue music) "Five-eight-eight-two-three-hundred, EMPIRE!" in pleasingly unaggressive four part harmonies. One usually heard it after hearing a similarly pleasant and low-key sell by the nice Empire Carpet Man - who at this point must either be selling carpet to the seraphs and thrones, or begging remnants of demons, given that he was *mature* when I first saw him on tv in the 1980s.

Nice Carpet Man may have shuffled off this mortal coil, but the corporate carpeting behemoth of Empire still remains. And we just had one of their (pleasantly low-key) sales guys in here, to tell us the cost of completely replacing all our carpet, inclusive of labor and general furniture moving and taxes. It's under $2,700. Yeah, that carpet. The sewagey carpet.

*cue Dance of the Flooring Deprived, Now Made Whole by Generous Fortune*

We're not automatically accepting Empire's offer, mind. Since most or all of this is going to be paid for by the condo association, we're dong the responsible thing and trying to get a range of prices from reputable places like unto Empire. But given that the cost comes out to lower per square foot than a lot of the do it yourself, buy the carpet from Home Despot, places...I live in hope that we might have new carpet before the Yule. In a nice grey, rather than the purple we have now. Which, while conversation-worthy and certainly part of the place's raffish charm, can go naow plz.
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (South Park Kathy)
Five-eight-eight, two-three-hundred....
For those of you not from the Chicago area (unless the company in question has spread across the continent like a...uh..) that will mean nothing. For those of you who grew up with the Empire Carpet Man, you probably started humming the jingle as soon as you saw the heading. For the uninitiated, that's (cue music) "Five-eight-eight-two-three-hundred, EMPIRE!" in pleasingly unaggressive four part harmonies. One usually heard it after hearing a similarly pleasant and low-key sell by the nice Empire Carpet Man - who at this point must either be selling carpet to the seraphs and thrones, or begging remnants of demons, given that he was *mature* when I first saw him on tv in the 1980s.

Nice Carpet Man may have shuffled off this mortal coil, but the corporate carpeting behemoth of Empire still remains. And we just had one of their (pleasantly low-key) sales guys in here, to tell us the cost of completely replacing all our carpet, inclusive of labor and general furniture moving and taxes. It's under $2,700. Yeah, that carpet. The sewagey carpet.

*cue Dance of the Flooring Deprived, Now Made Whole by Generous Fortune*

We're not automatically accepting Empire's offer, mind. Since most or all of this is going to be paid for by the condo association, we're dong the responsible thing and trying to get a range of prices from reputable places like unto Empire. But given that the cost comes out to lower per square foot than a lot of the do it yourself, buy the carpet from Home Despot, places...I live in hope that we might have new carpet before the Yule. In a nice grey, rather than the purple we have now. Which, while conversation-worthy and certainly part of the place's raffish charm, can go naow plz.

Back to Work

Monday, 19 November 2007 12:50 pm
kaffyr: The TARDIS says hello (Rousing Chorus)
After a week of vacation during which I a) saw the newest cat in our house become a de facto permanent resident rather than a houseguest; b) Listened to the condo association reps get a tad mealy-mouthed about carpet, although I can hardly blame them and c) went without computer/net access for more than 48 hours, I can say that being back at work does not suck. I got to give a hug to my first-born, who I love very much, I shared some laughs with Bob, who I also love very much, and I did my roots. In a world which sometimes appears to have the steadiness and comfort level of an Indiana meth user (don't - I repeat *don't* get mad if you're from Indiana. You were picked out of a hat.) sometimes it's the little things that count. May your week rock the casbah.

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