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This paint project is nearing completion.

The first color coat went on the new woodwork yesterday and it looks good. No complaints at all.

The day before she dressed and came downstairs I could tell she was very angry. When I asked, she would not tell me the subject of her anger: “If I told you, you would get mad at me.”

I figured that was a good place to leave it, so I did.

But as time, and the project, goes on, she is gets less aggravated about it all. I am glad. Yesterday she asked me again if we were going to move, and when I assured her that we would stay living here a very long time, she was visibly relieved.

This is not a fun disease for sure, and I think it has as many horrors for her as for the rest of us. I hear her frustration.


She does not want any change right now. This is a big disruption, messing with our main living space. Other projects will not be so invasive.

We will be fine. It will be done.

Today I paint the ceiling. That is never a fun job, but this one is cathedral style. That means it is seven and a half feet on one side and over eleven feet on the other. That difference is enough to make it a challenge.

And, this is the last room with “popcorn” ceiling. I have scraped off the rest of it in the house, but this room is going to stay like it is, popcorn ceiling and all.

There are changes that even I do not want to deal with!

may I change my mind?

Skip the building trades?

Having said what I did about not working the trades, a post or two ago, Lori reminds me that it is pretty handy to know how to do things.

I learned one trade (floor installation) and watched others. I never hired on as a carpenter, but I can hold my own, mostly.

So, when I need to do a project, I mostly know what to do. There are times when my knowledge is that I do not have enough knowledge. Then I look for friends who do.

I want to do some stucco outside on my house, not a lot, but some. Stucco is a labor intensive product, with fairly inexpensive raw materials. So it is a natural for those who are time rich and cash poor.
But I do not know enough about stucco, I am sure. My friend Art, was an accomplished stucco man, but we lost him a while back. Fortunately his brother Dewey is alive and well. I asked him the other day and he said he could help me. I told him I did not need help just some instructions and guidance. He grinned.

Dewey is 83, and he would have helped I know, but his advice will be invaluable.

And that is how it works.

I am not a plumber, but when I built our house, I could not find a plumber to barter with, so I plumbed it myself. The state plumbing inspector was a prince of a guy who guided me when I got in trouble (he gave me his home phone number, in case).

At one point I had used an illegal fitting (the plumbing rules are a bit complex). He said that he knew it would never cause a problem, but it was not legal. He told me how to make it legal, but said he would sign me off, and would not come back to check if I had made the change.

With an attitude like that I hurried out, bought the right fittings and made it “legal.”

Now it is my turn, and often I guide friends in their projects.

David needed a new shower, the old one was really nasty, and it leaked besides. He didn’t want to pay me $2000 for a new one (and I really did not want to do it), so I loaned him tools, taught him a bit, and he built a very nice looking shower.

We are both proud of it!

ooh progress

For the last week there has been trouble.

Every time the subject of my plans for the trim came up, it was met with strong disagreement. I bought the wood, milled it to size and had it ready. I was not sure it was going to work. At one point I just thought I'd stack it and go on to something else, less controversial.

But I started Wednesday in the kitchen with the toe kicks. Then I installed the entry door and base trim; and on around the room. Base, door, base, window, base, door.

This time everything I did was met with approval and acceptance without a hint of the anger or disagreement. By Friday evening the trim is all in place, most of the nail holes are filled and the first coat of primer is in place.

This agreement and acceptance made the job a LOT easier.

Normally I would not be so insistent, but we made this decision years ago before AD messed her up. I was continuing on a design we started.

Thank you Miriam.

our house

We built our house on the tightest budget imaginable.

I had inherited the bare land, but when I went to the bank to borrow money to build, I was told that for me to borrow the money I needed I would have to have an equal amount of cash in hand.

Some how the banker never figured that one out. If I had it I sure would not be talking to him!

So we went ahead and bartered and did the work ourselves and cut corners. During those days a lot of houses were built with very narrow dark colored trim around the doors. The windows were usual wrapped with “sheetrock.” The rock was finished to the floor so often there was no floor base at all.

So, a few years ago I decided that I could pick up some design details from the “craftsman” design era. They used a lot of high labor details, using lots of wood I the process. I decided to go with wide trim on the doors and windows and a wide base board on the floor.

I could buy the base material in 4 by 8 foot sheets and cut, plane and mill it to the size and design I wished. I did the upstairs bed and bath a few years ago, then the new kitchen cabinets and now the common room.

My preferred system is to install the wood (MDF) without any finish and then finish in place. Often I would spray lacquer, but I did not want the overspray in the house, so I hand brushed enamel -- about 4 or 5 coats!

When finished the surface is smooth and durable, but it is time intensive.

Still, this is nothing in terms of disruption. When I redid the cabinets a few years ago, I built them all, and stacked them in the cabinet shop. Then I tore out the old kitchen, did the necessary changes to the structure and put it all back together. That left us without a kitchen for a couple of weeks.

That was a project. I am so glad that was then!

This one just involves wood work and a lot of paint. The joyful part is that it will be comfortable and quite elegant when finished.

would you?

I was with a friend the other day who asked: If you could do it again, would you choose the same line of work?

Emphatically I said that I would not!

On a good day I am a B or B minus in innate craftsmanship, which is what the trades require to be really good. (Being a perfectionist is the shortest way to bankruptcy however!)

When I was in high school we were all given an IQ test. Up to that time I had studied little and passed. If I had a class or a teacher I liked, I would do better, but I got by. I was pretty sure that was as good as I could get.

They didn’t tell any of us the results of that test, lest we become “proud.”

It was not until I was in my 40’s did I discover that I should have been an honor student, and that my teachers failed me by letting me get by with shoddy work. Maybe that is why I talk to my grandkids teachers when I can and tell the teachers to not let Emily or Matt or Jess get away with sloppy work. They can do good work, and I give the teachers this grandpas permission to push them.


When I was 18, I began college. I was two weeks late getting there, then was stuck with a night job to pay for it all. I stayed up all night working then went to class. Not many could pull that off, and I didn’t.

But back to that question. No. I would avoid the trades with earnestness. If I knew at 18 what I found out at 40, I would have gone a totally different direction.

I am a good idea person, a great mind stirrer, and as such I would have loved a life as a college professor. Some of my happiest years were when I was in the classroom as a teacher.

But that is not the way it turned out.

I would have married Miriam at the same time, but otherwise I would have made a lot of different decisions.

Even with that confession, I have to admit that my life right now is very happy. I have found contentment and I have found as much peace as any restless mind can.

But you asked, and I told you.

changes

We saw history tuesday.

No, it is not the end of civilization as we know it, and it is doubtful that nirvana is here. Change is good for some and painful for others, but change is what we will do.

While my world view is reasonably wide, my personal view is narrower. It is about making my life work better for those I know and those I love. It is about being content on one level, and wildly discontent on another. It is about trying to become a better husband, grandfather, gardner and chef.

No one person is smart enough to know how all of our ills can be fixed, but I am smart enough to know that the way we have been doing things for a long time simply has not worked very well.

Yea I am pretty green. I see us destroying our land, of defecating in our bed, of poisoning our air, water and our own bodies. As a Christian, I find the destruction of our beautiful world I the name of “progress” as suicide, long term. There is a bible text that comments negatively on people who destroy the earth.

Some day our grandchildren (or their children) will curse us for the way we handled their legacy, but for now we must soldier on and do our best.

While I have strong political feelings, that is not the point of this post. It is not a time for copious quantities of elation and much less a time for fear and fear mongering. In ways we may only begin to understand, our lives will change, not just because of the election, but because of the variety of crisis that have pervaded our world of late. We are too few on this planet and we use a disproportionate amount of the resources of the world.

It is time to roll up our sleeves.

John Kennedy said that we should ask what can we do to help our country. That still makes sense today.

How can I make my neighborhood, my garden, my home a better, safer and enjoyable place. It cannot be me first and to the dogs with you, we really have to play nice. We really have to get along.

So much to do, and I am so old.

unfinished

Thursday, after the water system was working, David took Ray and I out to look at other cabins.

He had been involved with this area long enough he knew the stories about most of them. Interesting, at least.

There was the three story factory turned log structure, well put together by professionals, obviously. It had a bank of $600 batteries and a generator that would seamlessly go from battery to generator without any interruption.

We decided we did not want to know how much it cost.

There were more modest cabins that were well used, a few that were a bit short of glory but were loved and some that were misused.

But the ones that talked to me the most were the unfinished ones.

One in particular. Solid concrete footings, straight and strong block foundation. Log walls with large logs, maybe 15 to 18” on the small end. Absolutely meticulous craftsmanship in each detail. The logs fit tight enough you could not put a knife blade between them. The arches where logs intersect were wonderfully done.

But in the middle there were trees 15 or 20 feet high, testifying that the job was stopped for some reason. The floor joists, large logs, carefully mortised into the lowest row, had rotted enough they had fallen into the crawl space. The top layer of logs on the walls were rotting.

I know the owner. His workmanship is truly impressive, but I was saddened by the amount of time, and money that went into what was done, and was largely wasted.

The job was too big, the cabin too large, the time and money too short, I would guess.

There were others that were not finished. Across the road from Ray’s cabin there is a cabin that was started, No foundation on this one, the logs sit on logs standing on end. The logs are smaller, maybe 6” at the small end.

The story is that the owner had intended to make this a year around home, but had a heart attack and died before he could finish his dream.

And I wondered if the busy work I am doing, really would be the way I would like to spend the last part of my life, if I knew how it was to be.

All around us are broken promises and broken dreams. These were not unique, and I have a few of them in my life.

I find nothing but sadness in all of these unfinished projects.

Will I be able to finish my own? I cannot know.

paddy flats

I have no idea of how that name came about.

My first memory of the name was a few years ago when a rather horrible crime involved that name and place.

But that was then.

The cabin is 12 miles from the paved road, and often that is where they leave their cars and start riding the snowmobiles. In the winter the roads are smoother, easier and much faster with snow machines. The legend is that some have done that 12 miles in as little as 10 minutes by that method. On dirt, that trip takes three times as long.

I did not really understand the reason for the trip -- until we arrived. The water system, which has to be fairly complex to be run by a few car batteries, and be able to some how withstand minus 40º, was not working at all.

David the engineer designed and built the system when he built the cabin 12 or 15 years ago. Ray, the current owner, has a great mechanical mind, but a few years ago he had bypass surgery followed by a stroke, and Ray has not been the same since. The complexities of the system sometimes baffle him.

So the trip was for David to fix the system and to explain the intricacies of it all to Ray again. I am not particularly mechanical, know nothing about that system, so I helped by staying out of their way.

It came down to a broken dollar part and a few valves that were opened/closed incorrectly.

A trip to town, about 30 miles each way, got the part and the water system was up and running. Water in the kitchen sink, water to flush the toilet and wash hands. It was very good.

So the three couples (with two smallish dogs) spent the time together. There was a jig saw puzzle, and time for visiting and story telling. There was good food and conversation. It was good.

At night it was 20 degrees and close to 70 during the day. Very pleasant.

It was good to get away for a couple of days.

Tomorrow more reflections on the trip.

trip to paddy flats

Tomorrow we are going to a friends mountain cabin.

We will go with the original owner and his new wife, to meet the current owners. We are all good friends. The current owners are Ray and Betty who we have known for 35 years or so. And the first owner is the David I have been working with on the church remodel.

The cabin is located up on the edge of the big roadless center of Idaho 2 ½ hours from where we live. There is no electricity, no phone and no cell coverage. But it is otherwise a very comfortable place. It is well insulated and easily heated with a big wood stove downstairs. There is running water, a flush toilet and a shower, all 12 volt. The kitchen has a propane refrigerator, a propane stove and a wood cooking stove, along with some nice cabinets.

The electrical system is powered mostly by photovoltaic cells. If more power is needed, they have a noisy generator. All of this was designed by David, who is an engineer by education.

He built the cabin some years ago for his wife who had MS. Cool weather suited her, so he built this cabin so they could spend time there where she was more comfortable. Even when she was quite sick he would take her there, and in the winter he sometimes took her in on a snowmobile (the road is plowed about ten miles back, so snowmobile are the winter transportation).

David took very good care of her right to the end of her way too short life. I have known his new wife since she was a college student I the 60’s. Her husband, also a friend, died a few years ago of cancer.

It is a bit hard for David to go back to the cabin. He is filled with memories of the time he and his wife spent there.

We will take a duffel full of coats and hats and mittens and such. There is not any snow up there yet, but this is late October and snow can happen any time. And to save our hosts laundry, we will take our sleeping bags and pillows.

We are going along just for fun! We have plenty of work to do at home, in the garden and in the shop, but when David insisted we go, I decided that it would be a good trip.

Maybe we will have a late winter this year!

laura

We met Laura when we were in Texas.

She was about 6, her brother was a couple of years younger. It did not take too long until we were adopted. Laura was the first non blood relative to call me “grandpa dave.” At that point we had just one grand child.

That was a long time ago, but we have kept in touch occasionally! Laura’s parents now live in upstate New York and each year on my birthday I sent Laura a happy birthday message. Her birthday is a couple of days different from mine, so it is easy to remember.

Usually I get a short answer from Laura or mom or dad (another David in my life). This year I sent the email out in May on our birthdays. I heard nothing. Then one day I thought that Laura’s dad had sent me a change of email notice.

So, I searched and found it I resent the birthday message last week, even if it is almost half a year off schedule.

This time Laura’s mom sent me a nice note telling me that Laura had graduated from College a few years ago, had married and was due to have a baby in a few weeks. She also sent me Laura’s email address.

So I wrote a note, congratulating her on her marriage and on her almost born baby.

We went to texas in 1986. Laura’s family moved there a not too much later. As I think of Laura and her family a lot of memories come up. Most are in bits and pieces, some are more complete.

David, Laura’s father, is a dietitian who was then working for a good sized hospital chain. They had sent him to this town in Texas to work for a few years, before they transfered him again.

It was interesting when we had a dinner or a potluck. David would be in the kitchen working with the women on the food and some times mom would be out talking with us guys.

One year we went on a trip to mexico together. The trip was for a couple of weeks, we were putting up the walls on a small church in a small village. David was the chief cook (and a good one he was) and Laura and family went along.

We had a good time. It seems to me that Laura and I spent some time reading stories and doing grandpa / granddaughter stuff.

It has been a long time. We left Texas in 1990, almost 20 years ago. Laura is a social worker with a husband who is working on an advanced degree (in Michigan) before they move to Florida where he will be a pastor.

Brother is in Australia finishing his college degree. The last time I saw him he was just staring to school. I did not ask how mom and dad are adjusting to being empty nesters.

Truth is that our paths will likely not meet again, in the here and now. We will keep in touch once a year at least, but Laura and David and the family will always be pleasant memories. It would be good to see them all again and remember out texas years, but Florida is a budget busting distance from idaho.

Good to be in touch with you again, Laura. Love that baby -- it already has a name -- as I know you will. New York is a long way from Michigan and Florida, but I’ll bet that Grandpa and Grandma will make the trip often.

May God be with all of you.

There is a new line in very modern marriage ceremonies that commits the couple to stay together “as long as love shall last.” Maybe that is how it works in the AD world, I will love you as long as memory lasts, as long as I can remember you. Maybe that is how some friendships are destined.

upside?

There are some upsides to this AD thing -- maybe.

For some time I have been planning on changing the door and window trim in our living/dining/kitchen area, and then repainting the walls and ceiling. This fall seems to be the perfect time.

Originally our strange little hobbit house had narrow mahogany trim on the doors and windows that was stained dark -- that was the look of the 70’s. Some time ago I decided that to strengthen the “craftsman” style of the house, I would go to wide painted trim, but keep the hand made dark mahogany doors. Our daughter Linda helped us on the color scheme. I designed and did the mill work in my shop, and all of the house is done except for the great room.

So last night I mentioned that I was going to do some tile repair next week in the kitchen, followed by trim and paint in the weeks to come. The idea of the trim color has a sticking point for some time. Some days she thinks it is a brilliant idea, other times she thinks it is the worst idea ever.

In the rest of the house it is painted “reliable white” and on the days she thinks it is the worst idea ever she is sure it will not go well with our white leather furniture.

It is the swiftness of her changes and the lack of memory of what we decided earlier that makes the whole thing tricky.

I will go ahead with my plans, but have her help pick a color that she can like all the time. I would prefer a consistent color through the house, but it is not worth a fight for sure.

(And wasn’t it our esteemed former vice president and philosopher Spiro Agnew who said that “consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds” -- hmm).

As the disease goes on I am learning how to cope. I think I am getting wiser -- most of the time. This loss of consistency, based on memory of yesterday’s decisions, is a major problem, if there are any proposed changes in the routine of life.

Each day is a new day. What we decided or talked about yesterday is gone and we start over.

And that is the hidden upside to this disease, if there is one. Yesterday she was very angry with me, but with breath taking speed, her mood changes and her viewpoints along with it.

So, I will work on being a bit wiser, or I could just forget the whole project.

fall bounty

This was a good year for our kind of grapes.

I hear that the mild summer was not so good to the wine grapes, but mine were good.

It was the biggest crop we have had. Right now there are 80 quarts of new juice on the shelves. When I realize that is 20 gallons, it seems more! Add that to last years juice which we haven’t started to drink yet! We are still drinking 2006 juice.
Whatever we do this winter we will drink grape juice.

Maybe I will make some grape jelly. I have done jam, but not jelly.

While I was juicing the grapes, Miriam was shelling corn. I bought seed that was sold as an old indian variety of corn for flour. The stalks were 9 feet high, the ears were long, the colors are many: red, yellow, white, black, blue and shades every way.

Neighbor Terry took it to his place of work (he works at a large corn seed producing company) and got them properly dried, which is important if you are going to keep them in storage.

It was not easy shelling the corn, so as I have come to do I looked on line for a “corn sheller”. There was an old article from Mother Earth News about a guy who made his own corn sheller.

He used a hunk of 2 by 6, made holes with a chisel and put nails in to the center to shuck the kernels when the cob was twisted.

It seemed to me that a hunk of ABS pipe would work just as well. The ears were quite uniform in size, so I found a hunk of 2” pipe, drilled 4 holes and put in screws.

Wow what a difference, and the kernels, for the most part, slid down the pipe into the bucket.

We ended up with about 5 gallons of corn kernels. But since it is multi colored, I am wondering what color the flour will be! Next week I will find out.

I like corn bread and corn dodgers and I put a good bit of corn flour in our pancakes and waffles. Now I can have corn flour from my own place, to go with my grape juice!

My tiny farm amazed me this year.

I talked to the Doctor’s nurse. Who consulted with doctor and who ordered 2 150 mg pills a day. So, she will have a bit more powerful medication. Today was a bit testy, we will hope the added dosage helps.

pills

It is always amazing what a little pill can do (or can’t do!)

I asked the doctor, about a year ago, if we could put miriam on an anti depressant to control her anger a bit.

Miriam has always been the most easy going woman imaginable, but with AD, that sometimes changes.

So Doc gave us a prescription.

It was “dad’s blood pressure medicine, that mom takes,” as my daughters said.

Miriam took them for about a year and it made her a lot easier to live with. But there were some wild side affects.

So when I saw the Doc a month ago I asked about changing her to the same version of anti depressant that I take. I said that since I take one pill twice a day, I sometimes forgot the 2nd pill, so I had some extras.

That was fine, so we did just that. The side affect that bothered me went away away and we were doing pretty well.
So last week I called to get her a new prescription.

I asked the nurse to raise the dosage from 100 to 150 whatever. The nurse was really skeptical that I would dare make such a request, but I assured her that I had talked about it with the doc and we were on the same page.

So, I went to get the new pills. But there was a difference. I take 100 twice a day, and they gave her 150 to take once.

Miriam does not know what she is taking. I tell her it is a blood pressure medicine, but it is like the one I take, and she knows I take an anti depressant.

But right away I noticed a lot more anger. I would say something and very uncharacteristic she would shout back.

Then I decided to give her another 100 at night, making her osage 250 for the day. I called the Doc again and talked to her skeptical nurse, who had to ask the doc of 200 a day was ok. I told her we had miriam on 200 for the last month and it worked fine, and that a change upwards in dosage was from my conversation with the doctor.

It will be straightened out, but I am still in awe of how little it takes to change our attitudes. I was feeling really down and blue a while back, so I checked and I had missed several times of taking my pill. So I took it and feel good again.

Miriam does not know what she is taking, I tell her it is part of her blood pressure medicine.

Still the whole thing of a tiny pill changing us so much amazes and frightens me a bit.

I am so thankful for a good doctor and some pills that do what needs to be does.

sleep

Sleep is an interesting thing.

I read that as you age you need less sleep.

I have also read that as you get older you should get more sleep. Hmm.

My sleep patterns are enough to irritate my bed mate, but that is how it is.

I sleep about 5 or 6 hours at a stretch. It has been that way for a long time. If I go to bed early, I just wake up early. If I go to bed late I wake up at the same time.

What irritates my mate is that I sometimes wake up at 3 or 3:30 and get up for a hour or two and then go back to bed. When I do that, I do sleep later.

Miriam is a good sleeper. She can go to sleep early and sleep late. If the dog gets uncovered (he is virtually hairless and sleeps under a blanket), it is Miriam who goes and covers the dog.

If I go, I will be awake by the time I get back and will stay up.

At this stage when I sleep is not a huge issue for me. I take a nap or two during the day if I am short on sleep. Miriam occasionally does.

So, for all of you out there who sleep soundly and sleep hours and hours at a time, I envy you, sorta.

To those of us who have weird sleep patterns, we are part of a hidden community, I guess.

As for me, I am going to take a nap later today!