has anyone else heard of richard armitage? i just discovered him in the bbc drama “north and south.” where he plays john thornton (a disgruntled mill owner who is pretty much hotter than any person has a right to be). he also stars in the otherwise terrible mini-series, “robin hood”. where he is hot and bad. and also consistently rejected by that wench maid marian. for heaven’s sake, doesn’t she know hot when she sees it?
i don’t know if you watched the tour of my house, but if you did you might have noticed the bane of my life. the basement door. when the house was built there was no drywall in the basement, just bare concrete. when the time came to make the world a better place, they discovered the door was too close to the wall to allow the sheetrock and door to coexist peaceably. so they notched the sheetrock around the hinges of the door and were very pleased with themselves. this was unbearable. but what was i to do? it was a “irresistible force meets immovable object” kind of situation. naturally, you could always make the door smaller. but husband, whose task it is to move steelcase desks and washing machines into the basement, would not allow for this simple solution. that is why they make concrete saws. and dads.
my mom was instructing the boys in how to get their tree house built, “well, what you do is call your grandad. cry a little bit and say, ‘but grandad, it’s my last chance!’ and he will jump in his car and drive 7 hours, just for you.” …because we all know you just can’t live without molding all the way around your door. it’s true.
here are the women and children holed up in the back bedroom. it’s amazing the kind of noise, dust and fumes that a concrete saw produces. they sealed off the area in the basement with plastic, but i couldn’t tell that it did one bit of good. also, i think this picture of my husband pretty much sums up his sentiments on the matter. he has all kinds of advice for young people about where hormones can lead a person. and it’s not at all where they hoped. a sick twisted world indeed.
but i think gideon will be more keen on home improvements. here he is helping uncle reuben lower the bathroom door. uncle reuben also thinks i am crazy. fortunately no one can resist my persuasive charms and the bathroom door is in fact lowered. it had to match the laundry room door, they were side by side. it was only natural. some people just don’t have logical minds and that is all there is too it.
gideon was all fascination. he spent the longest time pulling nails out of boards with his new hammer and measuring things with his tape measure. ah, a man after my own heart. he says when he gets big he will fix my house for me. this makes me glad.
on the left is the basement door itself (evil, horrible door). and marc chiseling the rest of the concrete because the step was in the way of the saw for the last six inches. the sad thing is that door isn’t actually in yet. or in right, that is. after painfully drilling through the concrete with a hammer drill and mounting the door into the wall again, i blithely pointed out to marc that he didn’t leave room for the door to open over the soon to be installed carpet and pad. unfortunately i didn’t get a picture of the look he gave me at that point and the door remains the same.
same with the bedroom door. i had my dad rip it out too. it was next to the bathroom door and once the bathroom door was lowered it made the bedroom door look too tall. the bathroom/laundry room doors were really low to allow for drywalling over the ductwork. the bedroom door on the other hand was made for people who have to sew their own pants and buy shoes online. it was really a terrible and glaring discrepancy. there was no choice. only they didn’t have a chance to finish and now said door is hanging out in the hall.
i’m sure hubby will get right on it. (he does have my deepest sympathies, i assure you. i wouldn’t want to be married to me either.)
my little sister just had baby number two today. a little girl, “zahara yosef vashti smits.” joining her little brother, rezon lestat nesta. she’s still debating on the spelling of yosef, which is just the hebrew pronunciation of joseph. i told her joseph didn’t look as pretty but i’m not sure she believed me.
here are some pictures from when my family visited this weekend. saturday we took them on a hike in the foothills. around here everyone is all about the “foothills” but to me it smacks of desert. i think people just like them because they don’t have to worry about running into trees with their expensive bikes.
here we are trooping along. (i’m the fluorescent stubby one.)
and uncle reuben carrying girl. everyone had to take turns because the stroller was not the thing.
grandad walked the boys up to the sandstone cliff to look for birds. gideon poked around in some holes but didn’t have any luck.
here are some pictures boy took from on top. that is the lovely city of boise on the left.
mom with the boys. and the continually unimpressed girl with her daddy (who is irresistibly attracted to any kind of map).
we split up on the way home. the boys took the high road and the girls took the low. no one mentioned that the low road was muddy. it was all natalie could do to mud bog the empty stroller along a trail cut into the north side of the hill. mommy had to carry baby fatness and inch along. slick as snot. and grandma just laughed at the boys who would fall in the mud, get up and then fall back down again. “oh look at those cute little piggies,” she would say. and when we got home, i threw them all in the jacuzzi.
that’s natalie on the right saying, “miranda, will you make reuben get out? he keeps sticking his warty, stinky feet in my face.”
marc’s dad is a farmer. consequently, growing up otto the highlight of the year was “agri-action.” the tradition continues. while wandering around after the boys, amidst a veritable plethora of rednecks and tractors, i realized i would have to go to this every year until i died. yep.
next year maybe i will cut their hair first. so they don’t get called girls, sweeties or sisters every time they turn around. serious. i can understand some people thinking they were girls but not everyone all the time. it’s ridiculous.
besides if they were girls they would be ugly ones. “look at that poor women with those ugly kids. those are the ugliest girls i’ve ever seen.”
here is jehu in tractor bliss with free candy to boot. and then getting told to say thank you for free candy and that you just can’t run around like a jolly little heathen all the time.
and tractor papa himself with baby girl. the man who started it all (and enjoys every minute of it).
there was even a pony and a little calf for the kiddos. it was funny how this big event was totally centered around kids. they were swarming everywhere.
dragging their reluctant parents and aunts who would rather be home watching north and south or doing anything else at all. poor megan.
jehu made her stand and watch silage being ground up and fed to cows for the longest time. it was utterly fascinating.
salt. it fixes anything. the world’s most perfect food. my birthday brought some new additions to the family, so i thought i would re-introduce everyone.
left to right; sea salt smoked over welsh oak, australian flake salt (reigning favorite. that’s why it’s still full. nothing is worthy.), light grey celtic sea salt, herb infused sea salt, himalayan crystal salt (my table salt), black lava salt, martha stewart sea salt (she has her fingers in everything), celtic sea salt and trapani sea salt. the dead sea salt was disowned by the family because it smelt like dead fish and sulfur.
my husband has always made fun of my salt fetish but the other day i caught him crying because he had to use table salt on his indian food. “i can’t put that on it,” he objected with blatant, salt snob fervor. “ahha,” i said, “you are one of us!”
we spent the weekend at grammy’s. every night they would climb in her bed and she would tell them “stories without pages.” to be exact; little red riding hood, goldie locks and the three little pigs. later, when gideon finally snuggled down after a some very dramatic huffing and puffing, his eyes shot open and he asked, “grammy! what’s your house made of?”
i asked him the same question today at breakfast, “oh,” he replied, “very strong wood.”
do you ever wonder about who you really want to be? if you just had your way? i remember thinking about this in fifth grade. no doubt sitting in my desk, in my pastel knit sweater and pony tail, coming to the conclusion that i wanted to be gloss black and 6 feet tall.
but when you think about it, who is better at being black and 6 feet tall than grace jones? i was channel surfing once and passed by zula on conan the destroyer. “there she is,” i thought, “the woman of my dreams.” minus the tail, of course. plus a few more clothes and a bit more composure. think “zula” meets “clint eastwood” and you pretty much have it. my alter ego. i only mention this because i really enjoyed coca-cola’s avatar commercial that aired during the super bowl. i wonder how surprising it would be if you really could see everyone’s imaginary self. (do tell, by the way. maybe i will feel less weird.)
is on the move. she learned to butt scooch today. and it is terribly funny to watch. she looks like she is rowing. right across my wood floors (towards the stairs of death). i had to dig out the old playpen. it’s time for all that fat goodness to be contained, whether she likes it or not.
and while she seems to be taking her sweet time (both the boys walked before they were a year) she fits right in my schedule. i finally got around to picking my first carpet samples this afternoon. i hope to be able to safely ensconce her in the basement before she becomes too adventurous. i don’t like the though of her roaming loose on the bare concrete. (i don’ t like the thought of bare concrete. as my husband says, it’s not really about the baby.)
don’t worry, she wouldn’t believe it for a second.
