The Renovator's Prayer
Oh grant me sweet salvation
from the dirt and grime -
this endless renovation
has taken so much time!
One chore barely completed
before one more begins -
I sometimes feel defeated,
and my poor head - it spins.
My house is always cluttered
with tools and with debris;
and at last bill I stuttered -
the costs rise steadily!
The constant noise assails me
it is hard to ignore -
and peace and quiet fail me
like shine upon my floor!
The time line - it gets pushed back -
things never move too fast;
help our projects stay on track,
and may our money last!
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, March 15, 2017
We've been living in the new/old house for almost eight months now, and we still love it - even though the projects seem never ending. We've come so far - yet, we still have so far to go...
We no longer feel like we're camping. Luckily, furnace and air conditioning repairs/replacement was up first on our list. We have four furnaces and four air conditioning units in this house, and three of each needed replacing. Our HVAC guy got right on it - he practically took up residence with us for about six weeks, and became like a member of the family. He knows that now he's welcome to stop by anytime to get caught up on the progress of the house and have a visit. Unfortunately, he had to subcontract the servicing (and replacement) of the AC units, and sadly that was a long, drawn out process. The good news is that it's done, and this summer we'll live in air conditioned comfort - knock wood!
Our kitchen is now 95% complete! Oh - how it thrills me to type those words! After all, I spent three months hunched over a laundry tub in the middle of my kitchen before I got a proper kitchen sink. When the new bank of kitchen cupboards got put in, I knew that sink - and even dishwasher, which had sat there mocking me for two months - would soon be functional. When both were installed, and the plumber had come by to finish the job, I had a true Hallelujah moment! It was akin to the jubilation I'd experienced about a month earlier when my washer and dryer were hooked up and trips to the laundromat in the next town became a thing of the past.
I have to say that a few months of roughing it made me grateful for some pretty mundane conveniences - like functioning toilets. When all three of our toilets were put into use I became a much happier camper. Now I yearn for the day when we have a nice shower in an actual bathroom, as opposed to a grungy corner shower in a vast "crazy room" that once housed a call center. That dream is closer to becoming a reality. As I type this post there are guys upstairs applying drywall to what will eventually (soon - I hope!) become a three piece bathroom! There's just something so disconcerting about having to shower in a room that has no door. Securing a curtain with a butter knife jammed into the door frame and hollering "I'm taking a shower!" (so that your grown son doesn't stumble in on you half asleep) is getting old. I frequently remind my husband that I'm a really good sport - a lot of women wouldn't have been able to handle the rustic bathing conditions in this house nearly as long as I have.
In December, with most of the pluming, heating and electrical issues taken care of - (invisible money suckers that must be taken care of but don't make your house actually look any better) - we were finally able to turn our attention to making cosmetic changes. It took forever to strip off the wallpaper on the two walls in the kitchen that had been damaged by the previous occupants of the house, and to fix the holes and prepare them for paint. It was a half finished eyesore for months, but in February we finally got paint on those walls, and it looks great! Likewise, we painted the back entrance to the house and the improvement is amazing!
One day, about six weeks back, I went upstairs and was thrilled to realize that the front bedroom and the "Men's room" (still complete with urinal) were actually covered in wall paper that could be dry-stripped. I pulled it all down in the space of a couple of hours. Now that bathroom is ready for paint, but some bursitis-type ailment in my shoulder has kept me from scrubbing down the bedroom walls yet. (The trials of getting old...but enough of the moaning.) Likewise, on a quiet day in late January I decided to start ripping up carpet, and we realized that the narrow strip hardwood in the former office and front entrance could be salvaged. We had it refinished, and while we're a bit disappointed with the end result, it is a vast improvement over the disgusting old carpeting. Now the big design dilemma is what to replace the carpeted floors in the adjoining living and family rooms with. Whatever we choose will have look okay with the existing floor, and have a low enough profile that we won't have to shave any height off of our magnificent pocket doors. The jury is still out on that one.
Two weeks ago we had the kitchen floor repaired. What we initially thought would be a quick fix turned into a bigger project when our contractor discovered that the floor tile we'd purchased was about an eighth of an inch smaller than the existing tiles on the floor. We all put on thinking caps and came up with an elegant solution that makes a simple ceramic repair look like a lovely area rug in the middle of our kitchen floor. Needless to say, the additional time and tiles to get it looking so nice added a few dollars more to the budget than we'd bargained for. We're discovering what a common problem that can be be when you have so many projects to tackle in a house as big and old as this one.
Another issue we've experienced, as my opening poem alluded to, is keeping our timeline on track. We're not skilled enough to make all of the repairs and improvements ourselves, and tradesmen get booked up quickly. From the electrician and plumber we can get a full day - maybe two if we're really lucky - here and there. And sometimes our booked slot gets postponed when more dire situations arise. (Milking barn disasters are a real issue here in the wilds of Ontario's mid-west.) And then, occasionally, you might hire a guy who you suspect only books work days when he's low on beer money or runs into an unexpected expense himself. (Luckily we haven't experienced this very often.)
So that's where we stand. Our kitchen is almost completely where we want it to be, we have functioning laundry and toilets and a new bathroom going in. Our floors are being de-carpeted (yessss!) and walls are beginning to be stripped and painted! It's good to see progress and be at the stage where we're making decor decisions and not just improving the unseen "guts" of the new/old house!
Headaches will continue as we put up with noise, confusion, tool littered rooms and workmen arriving (who let themselves in with the spare key you gave them) while you're still lying in bed scantily clad (with your door open). The endless cleaning after said workmen go home will continue for a while, but it's pain with a purpose.
Our growing pains will be ongoing and our wallets will continue to thin. Progress doesn't come cheaply, and isn't always neat and timely - but it's worth it!
The grand Victorian lady is still saying thank you, to which I can only respond, "You're welcome, house. Thank you for giving us a renewed sense of purpose. You are going to be fabulous!"
Thursday 16 March 2017
Saturday 4 March 2017
A Rant from a Modern Day "Luddite" - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg
Luddite Rant
No cell phone do I carry round -
no Bluetooth in my ear
obliges me to take your call -
no ringing do I hear!
I don't like the computer much,
I google now and then;
but don't trust Wikipedia
to tell me what or when.
I didn't own a microwave
'til I was thirty-eight -
my television's not flat screen
but it still works just great!
I like my pencils and my ink,
and write notes in a book.
I sometimes wield a wooden spoon
when it is time to cook.
I have been known to fill the sink
and wash my plates by hand.
Obsessions with technology
I cannot understand.
I check my email twice a day -
who needs to check it more?
And when I type upon a screen
it seems a nasty chore.
The new remote for our TV
completely drives me mad,
and to be honest, ipads still
seem like a passing fad.
I think "tweeting" is for the birds,
I've never sent a text -
I spend days in astonishment -
what will they think of next?!
by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, February 2011
I have a love/hate relationship with technology. I love that Facebook allows me to connect with friends and family far away, and that it has given me a forum for sharing my poetry. I never shop online, but I do like to be able to "pre-shop" here. Looking over stock and sales online saves me both time and money when I shop in "real time". I love being able to "chat" online with my brother and sister out west while I read my news feed, and miss my son less because I know he and his father frequently text. When Todd sends Dan a photo of my latest batch of cinnamon rolls, or of another completed home improvement project, I feel secure in the knowledge that he remains connected to our current lives no matter how far away he is.
On the other hand, I hate how technology has so much of society enchained. Most shudder at the thought of going unplugged for a few days - what would they do without their telephone, laptop or tablet? How would they possibly survive? I have to say that I just don't get their near hysterical reactions to the mere thought of taking a sabbatical from technology.
Daily I see and hear people panicking because they misplaced or broke their cell phone and will have to survive without it for a day or two. I see couples technologically uncoupling as they sit in restaurants together, but apart - each staring at their telephones. I see teens choosing texts over conversation. I find it all a little disconcerting.
I don't like telephones much. I didn't even like them back in the day when they were all neatly affixed to the wall. The darn things were always ringing when I was in the bathroom - or just getting to the most exciting part of the book! If you talked too long your ear got sore, and inevitably as the call stretched on and on you wanted to pee so badly that pain ensued. I had a cell phone for a year or so in 2012 when I spent a lot of time going back and forth between our home in Kitchener and our son's apartment in Toronto. At first I tried to remember to carry it with me when I was out and about, but I always felt stupid talking on the phone in public. I quickly got into the habit of arranging calls ahead of time (with the half dozen people I'd given my number to) so that I could turn it off or leave it at home.
Some people wonder how I get by without a phone, but I love peace and quiet, and I enjoy taking long walks without ever having to worry about being pestered by someone on the phone. If I traveled a lot I'd get one, but for now I simply don't see the need. Some have asked what I'd do in an emergency without a cell phone, but when I'm alone I tend to stay pretty close to civilization, and I really do have enough faith in humanity to believe that if I found myself in dire straits I'd be able to get someone nearby to make a call for me.
The computer I use at home is hardwired into the wall - and I still waste too much time on it! I wouldn't want to have the internet with me everywhere I go. I'm happier paying attention to the people I'm with, the scenery, the weather, and the obstacles in my path. I think that people who spend their days staring at little screens miss way too much of that great big picture called life. Maybe I'm a bit of a Luddite at heart...
Luddites emerged about two hundred years ago when the Industrial Revolution was getting into full swing. Cotton and woolen mills in England began to use powered looms and machinery that made knitters and weavers nervous. The Napoleonic War had already left the working class tightening their belts, and many of theses mill workers feared they'd lose their jobs to machines. In 1811, British troops were called in to break up a protest of some mill workers who wanted better wages. The very next night a mill was broken into and the machinery was destroyed.
Mill after mill was broken into over the next several years - a few were set on fire, but for the most part these "Luddites" settled for smashing the machines that kept them overworked and underpaid. The attacks were supposedly masterminded by one Ned Ludd, who was rumoured to have been the instigator of one of the first mill attacks in the Nottingham area in 1811. "Ned" developed quite a reputation among mill workers, who adopted him as the leader of their movement. Some of his followers even protested in the streets dressed as women, calling themselves "General Ludd's wives"! However, "General" Ned Ludd didn't actually exist, and the real Ludd (or perhaps Ludham) was a young knitting apprentice who took a hammer to his knitting machine after being criticized by a mill boss for "knitting too loosely". As the initial protests took place in the Nottingham area, this fictionalized Ned Ludd was given a Robin Hood type persona - a man who gave to the poor by defending their right to jobs and fair wages.
Thus you can see that the Luddites didn't really hate technology - they just felt threatened by it. They saw their fight against industrialization as a quality of life issue, and worried that the value of human craftsmanship would dwindle as mechanization became ever more popular. If they had to work in mills to make money, they wanted to make enough of it to keep their families fed, housed and clothed.
I don't hate technology either. I've already mentioned the ways that computers have enriched my life, and as much as I don't like yakking on the phone, I'm glad they exist. I just think that we've somehow undervalued real human connections in favour of high tech gadgets and online personas. I'm not looking to smash up anyone's personal devices, but I do advocate turning them off and/or leaving them behind from time to time. It just seems that we've become so technology dependent that we're losing touch with our social skills. We're forgetting about the importance of manners. We're forgetting to be alert and aware of our surroundings. People text as they walk and as they drive, injuring themselves and others because they can't put down their phones for a few minutes.
Most of us crave electronic stimuli like alcoholics crave their next drink. Studies have shown that electronics stimulate the same parts of the brain, especially in young children, that crack does. Parents use electronic devices as cheap babysitters. Children don't play outside much anymore because they are all electronically addicted by the time they're old enough to play outside alone. People socialize face to face a lot less often than they used to, and having people stop by just to say hello is almost unheard of today. I'm convinced that one of the primary reasons for this is that so many of us feel that we get our "social fix" online. (Even though social media offers superficial interactions at best.) I wish social calls were the norm again - our lives are missing something that made my parents' generation more socially stable and secure - an open door mentality that taught them how to be hospitable hosts and considerate guests.
Email created an environment where everyone is addicted to immediacy, and texting has only compounded the problem. In my cellphone days, one friend was totally confounded by the fact that I never answered her texts - and she was a little shocked when I explained that I just never bothered getting texting on my plan.
When personal computers arrived on the scene they were hailed as the answer to our overstressed lives, pitched as time savers that would usher in shorter work weeks, and more time for friends, families, travel and hobbies. In reality the exact opposite has happened.
I think it's time for us to rail against the electronic machines that have diminished our quality of life! It's time to establish unplugged, no call zones in our lives - time to disconnect so that we can reconnect - with each other, and with the whole wide wonderful world that surrounds us.
Some of my happiest memories are of time in my youth spent at the family cabin on Lake Superior - days of playing in the water, exploring the shoreline and the back roads, and building forts in the woods behind us. There are no telephones in those memories, no televisions or screens of any kind. Heck, there aren't even any electric light switches, ovens, refrigerators or indoor toilets in those memories! (See my post called "Superior" if you'd like to hear more about my summers "at camp"). We spent evenings playing board games by lamplight.
The world needs more board games and less social media. It needs more laughter and human interaction. It needs more walking in the woods and less wandering into oncoming traffic while texting!
Technology has its place, but I think we'd be better off if we all became a little more "Luddite" - more aware of the societal ills that our increasing dependence on technology exacerbates. I'm ready to fight for a better quality of life by stepping away from technology more often, and more than willing to increase face time with friends and family.
That is, if any of them are willing to put down their own devices long enough to engage with me.
No cell phone do I carry round -
no Bluetooth in my ear
obliges me to take your call -
no ringing do I hear!
I don't like the computer much,
I google now and then;
but don't trust Wikipedia
to tell me what or when.
I didn't own a microwave
'til I was thirty-eight -
my television's not flat screen
but it still works just great!
I like my pencils and my ink,
and write notes in a book.
I sometimes wield a wooden spoon
when it is time to cook.
I have been known to fill the sink
and wash my plates by hand.
Obsessions with technology
I cannot understand.
I check my email twice a day -
who needs to check it more?
And when I type upon a screen
it seems a nasty chore.
The new remote for our TV
completely drives me mad,
and to be honest, ipads still
seem like a passing fad.
I think "tweeting" is for the birds,
I've never sent a text -
I spend days in astonishment -
what will they think of next?!
by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, February 2011
I have a love/hate relationship with technology. I love that Facebook allows me to connect with friends and family far away, and that it has given me a forum for sharing my poetry. I never shop online, but I do like to be able to "pre-shop" here. Looking over stock and sales online saves me both time and money when I shop in "real time". I love being able to "chat" online with my brother and sister out west while I read my news feed, and miss my son less because I know he and his father frequently text. When Todd sends Dan a photo of my latest batch of cinnamon rolls, or of another completed home improvement project, I feel secure in the knowledge that he remains connected to our current lives no matter how far away he is.
On the other hand, I hate how technology has so much of society enchained. Most shudder at the thought of going unplugged for a few days - what would they do without their telephone, laptop or tablet? How would they possibly survive? I have to say that I just don't get their near hysterical reactions to the mere thought of taking a sabbatical from technology.
Daily I see and hear people panicking because they misplaced or broke their cell phone and will have to survive without it for a day or two. I see couples technologically uncoupling as they sit in restaurants together, but apart - each staring at their telephones. I see teens choosing texts over conversation. I find it all a little disconcerting.
I don't like telephones much. I didn't even like them back in the day when they were all neatly affixed to the wall. The darn things were always ringing when I was in the bathroom - or just getting to the most exciting part of the book! If you talked too long your ear got sore, and inevitably as the call stretched on and on you wanted to pee so badly that pain ensued. I had a cell phone for a year or so in 2012 when I spent a lot of time going back and forth between our home in Kitchener and our son's apartment in Toronto. At first I tried to remember to carry it with me when I was out and about, but I always felt stupid talking on the phone in public. I quickly got into the habit of arranging calls ahead of time (with the half dozen people I'd given my number to) so that I could turn it off or leave it at home.
Some people wonder how I get by without a phone, but I love peace and quiet, and I enjoy taking long walks without ever having to worry about being pestered by someone on the phone. If I traveled a lot I'd get one, but for now I simply don't see the need. Some have asked what I'd do in an emergency without a cell phone, but when I'm alone I tend to stay pretty close to civilization, and I really do have enough faith in humanity to believe that if I found myself in dire straits I'd be able to get someone nearby to make a call for me.
The computer I use at home is hardwired into the wall - and I still waste too much time on it! I wouldn't want to have the internet with me everywhere I go. I'm happier paying attention to the people I'm with, the scenery, the weather, and the obstacles in my path. I think that people who spend their days staring at little screens miss way too much of that great big picture called life. Maybe I'm a bit of a Luddite at heart...
Luddites emerged about two hundred years ago when the Industrial Revolution was getting into full swing. Cotton and woolen mills in England began to use powered looms and machinery that made knitters and weavers nervous. The Napoleonic War had already left the working class tightening their belts, and many of theses mill workers feared they'd lose their jobs to machines. In 1811, British troops were called in to break up a protest of some mill workers who wanted better wages. The very next night a mill was broken into and the machinery was destroyed.
Mill after mill was broken into over the next several years - a few were set on fire, but for the most part these "Luddites" settled for smashing the machines that kept them overworked and underpaid. The attacks were supposedly masterminded by one Ned Ludd, who was rumoured to have been the instigator of one of the first mill attacks in the Nottingham area in 1811. "Ned" developed quite a reputation among mill workers, who adopted him as the leader of their movement. Some of his followers even protested in the streets dressed as women, calling themselves "General Ludd's wives"! However, "General" Ned Ludd didn't actually exist, and the real Ludd (or perhaps Ludham) was a young knitting apprentice who took a hammer to his knitting machine after being criticized by a mill boss for "knitting too loosely". As the initial protests took place in the Nottingham area, this fictionalized Ned Ludd was given a Robin Hood type persona - a man who gave to the poor by defending their right to jobs and fair wages.
Thus you can see that the Luddites didn't really hate technology - they just felt threatened by it. They saw their fight against industrialization as a quality of life issue, and worried that the value of human craftsmanship would dwindle as mechanization became ever more popular. If they had to work in mills to make money, they wanted to make enough of it to keep their families fed, housed and clothed.
I don't hate technology either. I've already mentioned the ways that computers have enriched my life, and as much as I don't like yakking on the phone, I'm glad they exist. I just think that we've somehow undervalued real human connections in favour of high tech gadgets and online personas. I'm not looking to smash up anyone's personal devices, but I do advocate turning them off and/or leaving them behind from time to time. It just seems that we've become so technology dependent that we're losing touch with our social skills. We're forgetting about the importance of manners. We're forgetting to be alert and aware of our surroundings. People text as they walk and as they drive, injuring themselves and others because they can't put down their phones for a few minutes.
Most of us crave electronic stimuli like alcoholics crave their next drink. Studies have shown that electronics stimulate the same parts of the brain, especially in young children, that crack does. Parents use electronic devices as cheap babysitters. Children don't play outside much anymore because they are all electronically addicted by the time they're old enough to play outside alone. People socialize face to face a lot less often than they used to, and having people stop by just to say hello is almost unheard of today. I'm convinced that one of the primary reasons for this is that so many of us feel that we get our "social fix" online. (Even though social media offers superficial interactions at best.) I wish social calls were the norm again - our lives are missing something that made my parents' generation more socially stable and secure - an open door mentality that taught them how to be hospitable hosts and considerate guests.
Email created an environment where everyone is addicted to immediacy, and texting has only compounded the problem. In my cellphone days, one friend was totally confounded by the fact that I never answered her texts - and she was a little shocked when I explained that I just never bothered getting texting on my plan.
When personal computers arrived on the scene they were hailed as the answer to our overstressed lives, pitched as time savers that would usher in shorter work weeks, and more time for friends, families, travel and hobbies. In reality the exact opposite has happened.
I think it's time for us to rail against the electronic machines that have diminished our quality of life! It's time to establish unplugged, no call zones in our lives - time to disconnect so that we can reconnect - with each other, and with the whole wide wonderful world that surrounds us.
Some of my happiest memories are of time in my youth spent at the family cabin on Lake Superior - days of playing in the water, exploring the shoreline and the back roads, and building forts in the woods behind us. There are no telephones in those memories, no televisions or screens of any kind. Heck, there aren't even any electric light switches, ovens, refrigerators or indoor toilets in those memories! (See my post called "Superior" if you'd like to hear more about my summers "at camp"). We spent evenings playing board games by lamplight.
The world needs more board games and less social media. It needs more laughter and human interaction. It needs more walking in the woods and less wandering into oncoming traffic while texting!
Technology has its place, but I think we'd be better off if we all became a little more "Luddite" - more aware of the societal ills that our increasing dependence on technology exacerbates. I'm ready to fight for a better quality of life by stepping away from technology more often, and more than willing to increase face time with friends and family.
That is, if any of them are willing to put down their own devices long enough to engage with me.
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