My backyard

I have been on a cleaning binge. And patching and repairing on my house.

I LOVE my home. But it didn't start out that way.

I LIKED it, but I've done a lot of work on it over the years. Let's say I saw the potential in it.  Now, I really enjoy hanging out in my backyard.

This is a corner of my yard that shows the most impact.

Before it looked this this, the yard was void of any flowers or trees except one lowly rose bush.

The grass needed care. The screened in porch needed to get pulled down. So I pulled it down. And I planted trees. And I planted flowers. I also painted my house. And fertilized my lawn.  I did a lot of this with my own bare hands. I also had a coupla friends over the years to help me which I will always be grateful for. 

It is now really lovely to sit out in my backyard alone or with friends and family over dinner on a warm summer evening.

But it wasn't always that way.  Because when I first moved in, my yard looked like this.

I got rid of a lotta paint today

  

I just got rid of a lot of paint.

I'm amazed at how many half empty or unloved cans I was storing--- and I still kept probably at least another dozen more cans!

Why on earth did I squirrel them away?  We've all got so much stuff.

It bursts out of closets and drawers.

Attics and garages groan with magazines, tools, ornaments, tangled lights, beach chairs, old clothes, books, cassette tapes and videotapes and piles and piles of things that no one uses or needs that we can't bear to throw away.

But I've got my second wind. Going back in and tossing out.


And I'm also repairing. And rebuilding. And turning my home more and more into the home I have always hoped for and believed I could have.

I am insanely happy working on my house. If someone asked me... "what do you like to do in your spare time?" I would most likely say, "Work on my house!"

Oh, don't get me wrong. I love spending the day at the beach or picnic in the park or a drive through the country and hanging out with friends.  I get that. 

But there is nothing like climbing into bed at night after a long, hard day of work having crossed off so many things off of my list of "to do's".

I've had a check list for years now. but after a month of weekends, I have crossed a lot of (little and large) chores off.

It is amazing what we can repair ourselves once we know how to do it and not be intimidated by the task.  The biggest lesson I have learned is that to get all the things you need to get fixed.... (like drilling holes into concrete) all you really need are the proper tools.  When you have the proper tools, you can do annyyyythiiiing.

I'm grateful that Jesus was a carpenter.... because I'm not sure if we would have all these marvelous tools if not for the son of God needing them back in the day. 

And I'm grateful to all the other men in the construction field who invented the tools and named them after themselves. Like Phillip Screwdriver. And Brad nails. And Allen Wrenches. And Stanley measuring tape.
  

One more weekend and I'm done working on the house for the summer. It's been exciting, no doubt. And so rewarding.





Photos to follow...
  

My To Do List

Remember a few weeks back or maybe it was a couple of months ago, when I was so thrilled by my newly organized clean house? Everything was neatly put away and the house was so clean, I didn't panic when someone dropped by unexpectedly or asked to use my bathroom.

I loved this feeling of calm that went through me and I was determined to make this my new reality!

It was then, when my next door neighbor and her friend dropped in to see my newly updated kitchen. She was so taken back by my clean, uncluttered home (it was her first time she ever walked into my house, so she thought this was normal for me), and was so inspired, she took two days off to clean her house and emptied two carloads of junk to the Good Will! The friend she was with told me later that she went home and kicked her house!

I LOVED it and yet, I have to admit, I did feel a wee bit highfalutin. It did look a bit staged... as if there was a For Sale sign up and an Open House was about to begin.

Well.

As you can see by my list (and so far the list is up to 23 things to do by tomorrow afternoon), I have somewhat fallen back into my old ways.

First it was the small things.

Leaving the newspaper and a few bills on the kitchen table. (I'll put it away later....)

Not putting away the three magazines I took outside with me in the backyard to read-- er, thumb through -- and then left them on the kitchen counter.

The clothes I folded from the dryer sat on the living room coffee table because I was in the middle of watching Big Brother and forgot to hang them in my closet during a commercial.

The cat food that dropped from Mollie's dish eventually adhered to the floor, so I left it.

The quick impromptu cleanings just before someone dropped in, was quickly tossed into the garage and now I need to clean that up.

It is now nearly back to where it once was, although the closets are still in good organized order.

I admit it: The task of putting everything away where they belong does not come naturally to me. (and probably the reason why the closets stay so clean). Neither does the determination in keeping my sink sparkling clean. And my aim is still slightly off when I throw my worn clothes across the room hoping to land in the hamper. How hard is it really, to walk over and place the clothes in the actual clothes hamper than leaving them all laying on the floor around it.

By the way, I never use the word "highfalutin". It came to me in a sudden moment and I think it's a pretty cute word so I used it a few paragraphs above. But it's not really me. In an honest moment of confessing to you that I was feeling pretentious with my neighbor and her friend while showing them my neat and tidy house, I felt pretentious again using that fun, cute word.

I'm not apologizing, but just wanted to let you know.

Off to clean the house. . . .

Anyone missing a pen?

If you can't find your pen.... it likely wandered over to my house. I have never seen so many mounds of pens in one place in my life! It looks as though I've opened shop to a Pen Store.

For the past several weeks I have been gutting it out.

Sifting through all my belongings in my studio with as much joy as dental work.

I have filled up four large recycling bins over the past four weeks. I just stuff them until I can't stuff them no more. Then I wheel them out to the curb for the City to pick them up and carry it away. Then I start this intimidating task again.

I am so tired of living a disorganized life.

I am done with never knowing where anything is. It doesn't nourish my soul or my life in anyway.

I opened up a box and inside it consisted of:
• a LOBO Greatest Hits cd
• three old bank statements
• a jack-in-the-box kids meal toy of Jack himself carrying a briefcase and wearing a tie.
• several postcards from friends on vacation
• a tangle of vcr cords
• a portable cd player
• a Golden Gate bride toll receipt from 1998
• a PEOPLE magazine with The Brady Bunch on the cover
• a talking pedometer still in the box
• an old 1992 Delta airline ticket from San Francisco to Denver with a layover in Salt Lake City.
• a backstage pass at Folk Singer Dar Williams concert while in Northampton, MA over New Years 1999
• unused yellow post-it notes
• a 1970s Defranco Family Slurpy Cup
• the negatives from a photo roll from 1994
• a William Holden autograph
• a book called "Don't Worry Be Crabby!" by John Wagner
• an old address book (that still has my grandparents numbers on there as well as numerous aunts and uncles and cousins who no longer live in this world...)
• etc etc etc

That was just one box. I had so many boxes, they were just jammed inside my closet. Each box closely looking like the next one.

An incredibly old man looked inside my eyes sometime around 2002-2003 in an old junk store off of interstate 35 between San Marcos and New Braunfels, Texas and said: Know when to hold 'em. And know when to fold 'em.

I think he was talking to me about Happy Meal toys, but tonight I hear him clearly telling me this on a deeper level.

Ever since my wake-up call at the hospital early last month, I have decided to take back my life. To stop and smell the roses so-to-speak. And I have become aware that once I made that decision, I have attracted that into my life.

I need more time in my life to water the lawn. Pull the weeds around the rose bush. Fix the automatic sprinklers. I also need to get rid of clutter and have more organization in my life.

I am learning that less is more. And that when my house is free of clutter my heart and head feels most calm.

I am getting there. And yes, I'm still keeping a lot of the sentimental letters and other things that stir my heart because it connects the dots from my past to my future and that has made me who I am today.

It's a lot of work and feels like it's taking me a lifetime to go through things and then I remember it is because I am going through a lifetime.

And a lovely one at that.

My new kitchen

It all began with wanting to open up my pocket door. My kitchen felt tucked in a back corner of the house and I wanted it to be more open.

So I called Randy and he dropped by and he took it all down in under an hour!!!

But. Once I did that, where the wall was taken down, it exposed the subflooring where the wall was! So I knew I needed to replace the kitchen floor --- which I wanted to do ever since I pulled up my carpet and finished the hardwood floors.

The kitchen was the same kitchen from when it was built in 1956. The doors were no longer closing properly. The shelves inside the cabinets weren't very high and I had to lay the syrup bottle and cereal boxes on their sides so they could fit. (You know what I'm talking about if you're living in a mid-century home and have the original kitchen cabinets).

I was on a tight budget and didn't go overboard with any high-end remodel, but I did buy new cabinets, counter tops, flooring, crown molding, light fixtures, subway tile for the backsplash, an over the range microwave, dishwasher, garbage disposal, sink, faucet, new plug outlets, and updated wiring in the kitchen. Basically it went from being gutted to all things new.

And it feels good.

I helped lay down the new floor. It was hot that day and very tiresome. But so rewarding to be able to say "i did that!" I also put the backsplash tile in myself and grouted it. I put the light fixtures in, too (with a help of a good friend) and before too long, I will select glass for my two cabinets on both sides of my sink.

I'm glad I didn't realize what how much work would be involved. Whenever I watch one of those inspiring HGTV shows, the transformations are so exciting and they are changed immediately after only a few moments after a commercial!

However ... in real life, it takes days and weeks and the changes each day are so miniscule, it is hard for me to experience that "wow!" factor I longed for. But this is what I'm excited about. I now get to enjoy the kitchen instead of waiting to sell the house and either redo it before I sell... or give the new buyer credit to update the kitchen. I learned a lot in doing this and the next time I will do some things differently so I'm grateful for the lesson as well.

Before
After
Before
After
Before
After

They took everything (and) the kitchen sink

And to think it all started after I opened up my kitchen wall.

There is a fine soot of dust covering everything. I can taste it settling on my lips and it stings in the corners of my eyes.

There are pieces of plaster, bits of wood and general rubble that has collected all along the walls and between board slats.

I have been without a sink and stove for nearly two weeks. I am camping out in here. It took me 45 minutes to come upon my can opener last night to heat up string beans in my microwave. I'm tired of breaking plastic forks in my mouth while I chew or the way the plastic spoon cuts the sides of my lips on the inside of my mouth.

I will have a new kitchen after all this. And once the dust settles a bit more, I will write about it and show more photos.

An Ending to a Weekend

It turned out to be a nice weekend after all.

It started off with an awful storm Friday morning. I can't really complain because I think it has only rained once or twice since the last time I posted about the rain. And, I always think .... if it's gonna rain, then let it rain hard. Let's have some weather! And, we did. Waking up to window-shaking wind ... (two bridges shut down and highway 101 did too, for most of the day)... it turned out to be quite the storm. But it was also exhilarating, too. Adrenalin-induced.

But. By Saturday afternoon, I felt sorta worn out. Like one of those limp newspapers sitting outside in the rain all day. Not a whole lot of tangible give. I kept reaching deep into my pockets to deliver something wonderful and accomplished in my day, but, instead, just kept pulling up lent.

This morning I woke up late, but after showering, I felt inspired to work on my house. I first started to paint my bathroom cabinets. This is how it looked BEFORE I painted the cabinets:
And let's just leave it at that.

Because once I started painting them a dark latte color, I realized I liked them sooo much better white, so they are white again. Okay. Not as white as in these photos. Tomorrow I will give them their second coat and let's leave it at that.

I also started working on the third bedroom. It's been a catch-all room filled with unfinished paintings. A few boxes of old books. Piles of old videotapes I want to copy to DVD and too many pillows. The vacuum is stored in there. And an overnight bag filled with unwanted clothes. Time to de-clutter.

I will enjoy this room soon. I put cable hookups in there a few months ago. I look forward to sitting in there and watching television or reading a book. It will become my sanctuary.

I love my home. I do.
I've done a lot on it with my shoestring budget.

Lately, after watching on HGTV, that fairly new popular show, "My House is Worth, What?!" I have seen the importance of keeping it updated. My kitchen is the same 1956 kitchen so I need to update it. My master bathroom is named appropriately. I someday want to turn it into a MISTER bathroom. No more little smallness to it. I want to push the room back a good five feet and put in a spa tub and create a walk-in closet next to it, in doing so.

I figure when I sell my home, I would much rather put the money into it now and enjoy living in it, than giving the new owner the money to upgrade.

Tonight I fixed myself a roast dinner with carrots and potatoes. I LOVED it.

It wasn't as delicious as I had hoped it would turn out, but it felt so nurturing and fed my soul.

Cleaning up the house, rinsing out my paint brushes, tossing out clutter... and smelling the aroma of the roast cooking slowly in the oven gave me such a huge hug and bolt of energy and happiness.

I can hear the pitter and patter of rain outside my window now. It is cold outside, but warm inside. And I feel the warm glow inside me, too.

Such a perfect day to end my weekend. Tomorrow is another day. The seventh day into 2008. I so want to make the most of it.

It's just a Paintin' Place

I have been busy.

I spent the past two weekends painting my house. From morning to dusk. And guess what? It always takes so much longer than we expect it will.

I can't tell you how many countless hours I have spent standing across the street and visualizing painting my house. I see it happening in my own mind's eye and from the beginning to the end, I can pretty much accomplish painting the exterior of my home in about three minutes. But. I forget the detail. The behind-the-scenes of the gutters. And the straight line precision of painting under the porch's ceiling. It always takes more time and always double the amount of time of what we think originally. (Double?!?! Maybe ... Quadruple!!)

I used a snake ladder for the most part. (unlike the photo of me where I stood on my $5 garage sale ladder). I would lean it against my home and test the ladder's stability twice before i made the venture upward.

I would dip my brush into the can and then climb my way upward to start painting. After about 15 seconds, my brush would dry up, and I would venture downward to dip my brush and try again. Climbing back up and then climbing down and then climbing up and then climbing down. Sometimes, I would hafta clip away plants away from my house so the ladder could stand there or so I could paint the trim. I was a gardener and a painter.

I feel good tonight. Sore. Yes.

But, after all this was done, I drove to my mom's house to feed her cat as she is away. Then I went to the grocery story to buy food for dinner. I mowed my front and back yard and washed dishes. And while cooking my dinner, I swept the floor. And then swiffer-mopped it. Added new sheets to my bed and donned a lovely bubble bath with candle light. I have been busy. But I also feel good.

It's a perfect Sunday night after all.

I planted a tree

The first book I ever read on my own as a child was The Carrot Seed by Ruth Krauss.

My mother let me pick out any book I wanted and for some unknown reason, I picked out The Carrot Seed... a yellow book with a little boy on the cover dropping his little carrot seed into the ground. Maybe I picked the book out, because the little boy looked similar to another book I enjoyed called Harold and the Purple Crayon.

The Carrot Seed is a story of a little boy who plants a carrot seed, despite his mother, his father, and his big brother repeatedly telling him every single day, "I'm afraid it won't come up."

But everyday, he watered and weeded it. And his care, patience, and unshakable belief are rewarded when, one day, up pops the tall leafy green part of the carrot above his head. The final picture shows him wheeling away a huge, dark orange carrot— it has come up "just as he knew it would."

Over the weekend, I actually planted two trees. it was such a spontaneous and major act of commitment to do.

On Saturday afternoon, my brother had three chinese pistache trees growing between the sidewalk and the street of his home and he was pullin' them up to plant maples.

"Ya want 'em?".
"naww.."
"My mom, the tree lover, gasped, "Whaat?! Are you crazy!? Your naked yard needs trees! GET them!!"

So I got them home and quickly flipped through my Sunset magazines hoping to find a backyard that was shaped exactly like mine so I could copy the exact location where they planted their trees. No such luck. I had to actually make a decision. I didn't think I could do it. But I did.

And now they are planted. The photo above shows one of them. It's the prettier of the two I planted since it has some leaves.

About an hour ago, I hammered down the steaks and tied twine around them and the tree to secure them from the strong winds we are having and before long, I will have a canopy of shade in the summer.

Or not.

Someone said to me yesterday, "You didn't plant them in grass did you? Then it won't come up."

Another said, "Make sure you create a ring around the roots so you can dribble water in there twenty minutes a day for two weeks. Otherwise, it won't come up."

"Do you have good organic mulch around it? And those types of trees can't drink just regular city water ya know..." replied another shaking her head feeling sorry for me, when I looked at her bewildered.

I can't help but notice all the happy wild trees that are growing just fine, but I am like a worried mother. Going out there, and watering them with my city water and talking to them and seeing if there is any new growth to the slim tiny twig branches.

Maybe they're right. Maybe my trees won't live. But. They also could grow into fine adult trees. For now I'm doing the best I can without a lot of know-how. (Google isn't helping me much in tree planting). But... I'll keep you posted whether or not... my lovely two trees... will ever grow up. And they just might do that.

Just as I knew it would.

My Backyard Makeover

In September, we transformed my dumpy backyard into a spectacular party place showcasing a line of our fabrics. It's being featured in Quilter's Home magazine this month!

Yay for my sparkling floors

My floors are finished. My unpacking is not. The loveseat in the photo belongs in another room. But it is heavy because it's a pullout bed and the heavy bars underneath have already scratched my floors. So for now, it stays there, until some strong men help carry it to its destination.

My large TV still sits on the floor as well. Everything feels in a disarray.

If I could only wave a magic wand.

Or, even if I felt better, I could plow through my lists of things to do. But instead, I just keep adding more to my list.

I love going to a place to work. There, I can focus on things at hand. Here, at home, it's like I am wading through thick mud. I feel as though I'm losing my footing under my To Do List that is weighing me down. I can't seem to climb my way out of it.

I just stare at all the things I need to do. And then. I add more to my list.

I need to call a plumber. My car is dirty. I have weeds everywhere in my yard that I need to pull. My house is a mess. My backyard lawn has turned yellow. I have phone calls to return. I'm out of shampoo. I need to buy groceries. I need to do laundry. I have emails to return. I need to bring my lawn mower to the shop. I need to take a truckload to the dump. I'm still having computer problems. It's the second time, I have lost everything on my computer in two months. (Apple thinks its my logic board failing). I'm sick about it. But not nearly as sick as I've been feeling.

I am thinking it wasn't the beef jerky I ate afterall.

I'm still going through numerous medical tests and I hope we can find what it is so I can start the road of recovery. It's been five long weeks of intestinal distress and after two separate antibiotics later, I still fight a fever from time to time. oy.

I know when I feel better, my list won't seem so overwhelming. There is nothing I like more than to cross things off my list. Now I'm just feeling cross about my list.

But. Enough about me. How are you doing?

. . . And then there was no furniture

I just read a newspaper article about a woman in Washington who was reported missing from her husband. The police found her body buried under a huge pile of clothes inside her house after a 10-hour search. Her husband believes she fell while looking for the phone and because there were so many piles of stuff, the man couldn't find where she fell.

She suffered from a condition called Hoarding.

It was estimated that several tons of debris was piled up inside the house and the police's heads kept touching the ceiling as they climbed over the clutter. They didn't even see her until their second search of the home.

I am not a hoarder by any means, but I have been wanting to get rid of my extra clutter before the summer ended.

Now I've been forced into it more quickly than I expected as I'm getting my floors refinished beginning tomorrow morning.

Within the last few months, I've been wanting less clutter in my life. It's an interesting phenomenon. It's happening all around me. Because I know, once I put my sight and heart on such a thing, the universe begins to set this in motion and helps me out.

It all began about a week and a half ago, when my hard drive crashed.

I lost everything. Every email, bookmarks, email addresses, artwork, photos, itunes, stories I had written. Invoices. Bank statements. Everything. Those who have experienced this, can relate to this huge, sudden loss.

I had planned to back things up, but I wrestled with the notion that I would have more CDs and more CDs meant more clutter. So I held back and now have ... nothing.

It was horrifying to me when it happened, but I've dealt with the loss and now enjoying my bare hard drive. I plan to keep it clean and organized and back things up on a more regular basis.

And, when an 85-year-old man on oxygen, gave me his used treadmill, a soft-tub and other things last summer, I reluctantly took them off his hands, worrying if I had any room to store them, but over the weekend, he apparently decided it was worth $3,000.00 and wanted the money immediately.

Instead, I packed them up and delivered his gifts back. Immediately.

It feels good to have those things out of my house. I am enjoying the extra space.

Once my floors are redone, I am only going to bring back inside my house only the things I really want. And the other things will either be tossed in the garbage, donated or sold in a garage sale.

I'm really excited about this new place of calm I'm inviting into my life.

Floors and flying

I spent a great deal of this afternoon pulling up more carpet.

It's the final room of the house. This extra middle bedroom stores my cds, my old videotapes and cassettes and books. So it's just a room filled with ... stuff. Lots of it.

There was a brief moment of insanity when I thought I could pull up a strip of carpet and use the heavy large bookshelf as a straight cutting edge for me. So I kneeled down and pulled up the carpet and my large heavy bookshelf, decided to tip over backwards instead of standing firm.

I watched in horror, as it crashed loudly down to the floor, splintering framed glass pictures in a zillion pieces, breaking the leg off an end table and breaking endless CD cases.

I tried to grab it in midair but it only took me quickly with it to the floor.

It reminded me of when Ann wanted to fly.

We were teenagers. She asked Brook if she could hang on to the back of his truck while he drove away. She imagined her legs lifting up parallel to her head as if she was flying.

It sounded like a great idea at first. But, being smarter than dumb kids, we decided her legs wouldn't probably lift like that and would just drag along the street.

Her life was probably saved that night.

I miss Ann. I wonder if she still dreams of flying. (And I hope she hasn't tried)

Oh, Those Hardwood Floors

I want to thank those who encouraged me in keeping my hardwood floors instead of sewing the carpet scraps back together to tack back onto my floor.

I'm growing accustomed to it now.

I discovered the Swiffer Wetjet tonight. (It took me at least an hour to learn how to use it because it didn't come with a manual and I later realized by going to their website that it needed batteries!) But .. now a few hours later, I am amazed and delighted at my shiny new/old floors.

It is looking wonderful. (I'm saying this to those who will never see it in person, of course). :O)

Back when I was 10 or 11 or so, I remember my friend, Jenny, who's mother was always cleaning their hardwood floors. She would use a mop that looked like Tina Turner (from behind ... and on her head). She worked at it endlessly it seemed. And they sure seemed shiny. I remember thinking I wanted to play roller derby on it.

One afternoon, when she left to call the numbers on a Bingo game, Jenny chalked up a track around the living room and dining room, cued up Jim Croce's "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" and half the neighborhood took off on wheels.

Jenny and I grabbed a few old abaloni shells from their backyard and put it on our heads for helmets. The others followed suit. Soon we were a team. And then we were a game.

I was on the team called the Bay City Bombers. It was an Oakland, California team and I was "Joanie Weston" the Marilyn Monroe athlete in those days, I guess. We played crazy fun. I remember feeling my heart beat not just in my chest but in my head and neck and arms and hands as I madly sailed along on my skates, exhilerated beyond breath, around Jenny's living room pushing down on Paul and Todd and Brett and Jimmy and Cindy and Kim's head or shoulder away and onto the floor beneath me.

It was an unusually, crazy, unbridled fun for me, because inside my own home -- even a single dirty finger print against the back door could prove some sort of punishment.

If just for the four or eight minutes we played, I was insanely happy and knew if I died, I would die a happy child. But guess what? Jenny's mom returned.

She forgot that little bingo machine that resembled a hamster run, where you rolled the spinner and the balls would bounce and spin and eventually pop up after a long endless spin. And when she saw us all skating and pushing each other around, we were all sent home.

I was so nervous. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pleaded with Mrs. Peterson not to tell my parents that I roller-skated on their floor.. to perhaps inform them that I was actually a crowd participant... and in doing so, I promised I would gather up any money she saw fit to repair the scratches on her floor. She remained silent when she dropped me off the front of my home. I threw a kiss and bowed.

She turned her face, without saying a word, and put her foot on the gas of her woody station wagon and headed on home with little Jenny sitting in the back seat.. her blonde hair blowing back from the open window.

It's now hard not to remember when I'm cleaning up my own floors and listening to Tina Turner..... I wonder whatever happened to little Jenny and her mother's floors... and the rest of our old roller derby team?

I miss you and the ol' team. I've got a new floor and I'm ready to play!!

Pullin' up the carpet

Guess what I just did?

I am crossing off one of my goals I planned to do this Spring/Summer because I just pulled up my carpet in my living room. I'm looking at it and scratching my head wondering "what was I thinkin'?"

No one else has seen it yet and I know hearing their opinions will help mine considerably. I love it in other people's homes. And once they're restored, I'm sure I will be happy, but for now, my back hurts and I feel dusty and feel unsure about my efforts.

One thing I am certain of is this: It is truly rewarding to do something really productive and the satisfaction of being able to say, "I did that".

I can hardly wait to write off the other goals from my list.

(Thank you Janet for your enthusiasm and encouragement)

Ker-plunk!

Do you remember playing Ker-Plunk?

It's a clear plastic tube filled with marbles, which are supported by crisscrossing sticks inserted through the tube. Then, each player takes a turn pulling out a stick, trying to dislodge as few marbles as possible. As the game progresses and fewer sticks remain, it gets harder to keep the marbles from going ker-plunk! And, at the end of the game, the player with the fewest marbles, wins.

Ever since I bought my 1950s home two years ago, I have looked forward to updating my kitchen with a modern dishwasher. But, for now, I am the modern dishwasher.

I play Ker-Plunk on a daily basis. But it's not that game we played as a kid. I play it in the kitchen. It's a test of coordination as I skillfully pull out each stick---err, cup and dish and glass and pan from my dish drainer hoping nothing drops.

One small mistake and everything goes crashing to the floor. The object is not to lose your marbles. And, I'm about to lose mine if I break any more glasses.

Just thought I'd let you know.

How does one climb a ladder?

If anyone has wondered my whereabouts, I've spent the past ten days painting.

In Dallas.

I LOVE painting. I'm no expert at it, but I'm quite neat---for the most part. It's rewarding to see the transformation in the rooms.

The ceilings reach up to the second floor throughout the house. I don't think I've ever been more scared to climb a ladder before. I would dip my brush in the can of paint and climb all the way up the ladder and paint. But after a few strokes, I would need to climb back down to dip my brush back into the paint and climb back up.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Each time I would step up the rungs, my knees would hit the next rung above it. So I would have to climb the ladder sideways so my knees would extend over to the side of the ladder.

There must be an easier way. But the ladder didn't come with instructions.