The worst part.

I believe we are living through the worst part of our construction project this week. For one thing, Uncle Jay's trusty side kick, Russell, had an accident in the work truck last week. His injuries were not life threatening, thank heavens. He is still recovering and that has been tough on Uncle Jay. He was extremely worried about Russell the day of the accident and he continues to be most concerned with his complete recovery.

For another thing, it is sheet rock week. Hanging. Mudding. Tomorrow = sanding. Dust upon dust. It will take a year to get all the dust out the house. I fight the urge to clean it up now, knowing that tomorrow it will get worse. 

Next week. Clean up. New paint. Floor man will come measure. Laundry room will be functional. It will be better. 

Today I met Uncle Jay at the building supply store and picked out a new front door. I went with my second choice for half the price of my first choice. I will be very happy with it. I then proceeded to the cabinet shop and made all the small decisions on the cabinets. Done. And done. 

Here are some new snaps. It may not seem like very much progress. But it is. Truly it is. 

Uncle Jay installed some door knobs late yesterday. Mr. Macho wanted to run the AC last night. And he did. We now have such nice insulation that the unit didn't run for very long and the house was cool all night long. 

Messiness is a necessary evil right now. We will survive this. And it will be great.

Looking from the corner of the new bedroom into the den. Walls are totally mudded. The rockers are supposed to come back this afternoon to stipple the ceilings. 

View of the old den. It really feels larger without the old paneling. 

Our pathway to the bedrooms. Trying to avoid bringing too much dust and mud into the old bedrooms. 

*****

Daughter texted me this morning that Super Carrot pulled up on the toy box at school today. Isn't she clever?! Of course she is. 

The plans for the upcoming weekend promise to be busy. Dancing at a retirement home with our dance class on Saturday. Mr. Macho will probably spectate. The rest of us will do some fun line dances. There is a really neat waltz line dance that I like. 

Sunday is our food fest at church. One of my home-girls asked me to make some dessert. I was hoping to escape the food preparation. Oh well. I'll figure something out. 

And so goes another day in the life. 

I'm making some reubens for supper. One of Mr. Macho's favorites. Just us and the dust.  

Got to run. The rockers are back. Goodbye quiet moment. 

Sheet. Rock.

So yesterday the sheet rock was hung. Lots of dust in the house. More to come. I think this may be the worst part with all the workers, and all the dust, and all the noise. It is really taking shape though, this house addition.

New den looking toward the bedroom and bathroom.

New den looking toward the old den. 

******

With all the work and all the workers I am relegated to the old bedrooms right now. Yesterday I spent much of the day in the little old rocker that I bought at the estate sale, crocheting the never ending afghan. Since I am taking pain meds for the pulled back muscle I have hesitated to drive anywhere. I might brave it and go ride the stationary bike at the YMCA this morning. Just to get out of the dust. My sinuses are rebelling. I am waiting to hear back from my floor guy. I emailed him yesterday. It is time for him to come measure. 

I may have to resort to taking dirty clothes to Son in Town's house for a wash day. Last week Uncle Jay said the washer may be out until Wednesday. Well, I am thinking that might be delayed. Not looking like it will be ready for tomorrow. More like the end of the week or early next week. Just my guess. 

View from the new hall door. Pink and blue. On the same bush. 

***

Happy birthday to my sweet Dad. Today he is 92 years old. Wow. Such a gentle man. Born in 1920. His father owned a grocery store, traveled extensively, but never learned to drive a car. Dad learned to drive when he was 12 years old and would drive his Dad to work in the morning. Dad is the oldest of three children. His sister is still living. His brother is not. Dad studied Chemical Engineering at Mississippi State University but dropped out in the middle of his junior year. Later he joined the Army Air Corp and was a flight engineer on a bomber during WWII. He worked several jobs and retired as Deputy Director of the Gulfport Housing Authority in the 1980's. He and Mom lost their home to Katrina when they were both 85 years old. They, pretty much, had to start from scratch. At 85. Geez. 

Anyway. I wish my Dad a blessed and happy birthday. Thanks for being a great Dad. All my love to you. 

Rainy days and Mondays.

Here's my story. It started out to be a terrific Mother's Day weekend. On Friday Daughter and her Super Carrot, Merritt, drove over and treated me to lunch. Merritt was so good while we were eating at Huck's downtown. She was occupied playing with paper and dots of water on the table.

Up on Saturday morning and cooked Mr. Macho bacon and french toast for breakfast. Sat on the patio and finished our coffee. Man am I loving that patio. He headed to the kitchen to clean up and I went to make up the bed. Then it all went to hell in a hand basket. While slightly lifting the mattress to tuck in the sheet I pulled a muscle in my back. It was swift and terrible. Knocked me to my knees. Several times. Every way I turned it made the muscle spasm. Mr. Macho was afraid it was kidney stones. Without too much messing around he got me dressed and off we went to the ER. Urinalysis ruled out the kidney stones. X-rays proved nothing broken or ruptured. Good meds were administered and I was sent home with even more prescriptions. The rest of Saturday was a drug induced blur. And the pain eased. We were supposed to babysit for Sweet Pea Saturday night but had to cancel. I was sorry about that.
It rained pretty steadily most of the day Saturday. And Sunday.
Sunday I continued the meds but we kept to our planned schedule. After church we drove down to lunch with Out of Town Son and Wife. Her parents, brother, his wife, and child joined us. We had some great Mugshot burgers and then went to tour his house that is under construction.

Love the brick they picked out. 

Looking toward the front door. Living room area and, I think, a dining area. They may re-purpose the dining area.

Back of house with a porch. 

Lots of tree cutting and land clearing is in the future. They have a huge size lot. Many good trees to choose from. I am so happy for them. 

I have taken meds this morning and my mind is mushy...the only description I can come up with for their house is precious. Sorry. Sappy word. Truly it is a house that will accommodate them very nicely and be more than comfortable. It feels roomy and, even in the dirty construction phase, has nice fung shway. It feels like them. It is a nice open living space. The master bedroom and closet are roomy and terrific.

*******
On our way home Son in Town called and invited us to dine at his house last night. It was a sweet Mother's Day supper. He cooked a good steak and served a tasty salad and some delish twice baked taters. Sweet Pea was in rare form being cute and all.

*****
Friday pics...

Laundry demolition. 

New can lights in old den. 

Our construction project finally feels like we are camping out. Washer and dryer won't be hooked back up until mid-week. Am hoping our clean underwear holds out until then. Mr. Macho moved some more furniture into the kitchen this morning anticipating demolition of the living room - which is happening as I type. We ate breakfast at the bar. Television is unplugged and tucked away in a bedroom. So, I am relegated to listening to the radio, reading, and crocheting today. I will not be driving anywhere since I am on the meds that make me groggy. Not sure if we will make it to dance class tonight. If we do, I might have to spectate instead of participate.
The changes that are happening this year are exceptional. I am maintaining a positive attitude regardless of the living conditions right now. The ends will justify the means. Am thankful for the slightly cooler temps. I can hardly wait until I can clean house.

More demolition. Living room. Total camp out status. 

Oh my!

Hope your day rocks. 

Night thoughts.

(This was posted last night around some time after 11:00. I am so not a late night person. Not sure of the time because electricity went off yesterday morning and when I reset my bedside clock I turned off the daylight savings time. On accident. And because I was groggy and didn't note exactly what time it was.)

Fell asleep hard on the sofa. I can usually go right back to sleep when I crawl into the bed. Not tonight. I was doing my version of counting sheep - in my mind I was making new flower beds. Digging. Mulching. Replanting my amaryllis bulbs. Where to replant the daisies? Leave the hydrangeas right where they are...
Dad crept  into my thoughts. Now I am wide awake. Dad will be 92 years old next week. May 15. He has surprised himself by living to his birthday. Ever since a hospital visit in late January that ran into February Hospice has been in place to help care for him. He has around the clock sitters. He doesn't get out of bed by himself. He has a very hard time feeding himself as his hands no longer have strength. Going to the bathroom is getting to be more and more of a challenge. Breathing is getting more challenging, too.
I have nine siblings. My Mom is alive and will be 92 in September. We all have our own relationship with  Dad and we all have different perceptions of his situation. We all have our own opinions about his care.
These last 3 1/2 months have been a roller coaster for Dad. Some good days. Some really bad days. Bad days are starting to win. I think that some of my siblings, and even my mother, want to pretend that Dad's good days are pain free. Not true. Just ask the right questions.
Dad is tired. His heart is weak. His body is weak and wracked with pain. His breathing is becoming more difficult. I know these things because I ask Dad how he is feeling. How did you sleep last night? Why were you up and down last night? Where does it hurt? How is your breathing? Where is your oxygen?
Dad's memory is slipping. Slowly. In the last few weeks he has used these phrases more and more, "Whatever", "What will be will be". As if he is letting go of the concerns of this world. And that is okay.
I know that he is not going to get better or recuperate. I ask Dad how he feels because I want to allow him the opportunity to not be so stoic. He doesn't always have to feel good. It is okay. He doesn't have to be strong or any certain way. He doesn't have to pretend for me. He is old. He is weak. Some days he is miserable. That is okay. My gift to him is to acknowledge his pain. Not pretend it isn't there. Not pretend he will get well.
My Dad is sweet. My Dad is gentle. My Dad is kind. My Dad used to be strong and clear thinking. He isn't any longer. That is okay. I want him to be comfortable. I understand the price. Even before January Dad would fall asleep anywhere. Anytime. There is more medicine involved now and that equals even more sleep. It is the price of being comfortable. That is okay.
I place no expectations on my Dad. I don't expect him to feel well. I don't expect him to leave the house. I don't expect him to feel better. And if he does. Then I am happy and surprised. And glad. But if he doesn't. It is alright. If you ask you will realize even on his good days his body hurts and he just doesn't feel good.
I think there is a grace in dying. For the one that is actually dying. For the ones who get to witness it. I do not want to pretend this is not happening because I will miss a blessed opportunity to be fully present to Dad's gift of dying. His gift to me is to let me be a witness to his life. My gift to him is to acknowledge all the good in him and let him know just how much I love him. My role has changed from being his child to being his comforter.

Good day.

It was a good day. Started with Uncle Jay and his merry men showing up early. I got to the YMCA for a sweaty workout.

Today Uncle Jay worked his small miracles.

French doors leading from the old parts to the new parts were installed today. 

My glass block windows were installed in the bathroom. I. Love. Them. 

The afternoon got bizzy. I had to think quick and act fast. Laundry room floors = kitchen floors. Decided this afternoon. Need to put in laundry floors soon so we can place water heater, washer, and dryer. Drove to town to the tile store and picked out a nice, light, neutral, 18 x 18 tile. Panic attack on the way home. Oh my. Is this the right decision? Kitchen won't be renovated for a few years. Yes. Right decision. Don't look back. 

Home again. Invoice from roof company. Need insurance form filled out for old roof. Hail damage. Drive back to town to deliver check and have roof man fill out form. Done. Drop by plumbing supply. Arrange delivery of 50 gallon natural gas water heater. Done. Back home. Call tile store to relay amount of tile we need. Ordered enough tile to finish the kitchen, too. In the future. Done. 

Lagniappe = gas company just happened by because it was time to replace old gas meter. Done. 

Whew.

End of day. Uncle Jay and the merry men worked on facia  board. 

Facia board. 

Mr. Macho and Uncle Jay relaxing at end of day. Have I said 'porch' recently? I don't think so. But there it is - the porch!

Light rain is falling. Going to crash tonight. Lots of adrenaline expended today. 

Construction catch-up and flubbed super moon pics.

Haven't posted construction photos since, what? Thursday? Friday? Nothing happened Friday but today stuff was accomplished. The housing inspector was here this morning. Doing whatever housing inspectors do.

I think I took this pic on Thursday. Tub installed.

Thursday. Duct work. Installed. 

Today. Monday. Windows. Installed. Hall door. Installed. 

Patio door. Installed. Thanks to Uncle Jay and his trusty side kicks, Russell and a new one today - Drew. 

Uncle Jay promises more good progress this week. Two words. Dry wall. 

  

We had some thunderstorms move through this afternoon followed by a pretty steady rain. It cooled the air. I am thankful for that. Sleeping should be slightly more comfortable tonight. 

Snapped this last week. There are pink and blue blossoms. On the same hydrangea bush. Are you getting that I really love my hydrangeas? They equal birthday time 'round these parts. 

Friday. Mediterranean pasta salad. So yum. 

Friday night moon. Obviously I can not take long exposure pics. Ha. Whatever. 

I've got a great camera. Just don't know how to use it. If I keep taking pictures I will know how. One day. 

*****

Oldest sister, Stephanie, and husband are traveling through today. We will meet up with them and Paulette at the local Japanese steakhouse. Umi's. Sushi. Another yum. 

Tomorrow Stephanie and husband are driving to see Mom and Dad. I will send along some VHS tapes that I am getting rid of. One of them is Steel Magnolias. Mom wanted that one in particular. Dad reminded me on Skype this morning not to forget his Johnny Marzetti. It is that beef-a-roni type casserole that I made a few weeks back. I froze lots of little containers for Mom and Dad. I think he is looking forward to eating it. He has a birthday coming up. But I will write about that later. 

I think I will go treat myself to a cool shower before we go out on the town with the sistahs. Be sweet. 

Whataweekend.

The weekend has been berry, berry good to me. Friday night I opted not to go to the Market Street Festival concert. In the past we have enjoyed the Friday concert. I hadn't slept well the night before and I was planning to run the 5k on Saturday morning. So, no go on the concert.

Saturday. Cinqo de Mayo. Daughter's 11th wedding anniversary.
We rose early in the morning. Little bite to eat then off to the race. It was a good run and I came in second in my age group.

Yep. I am a badass runner. It is my opinion that everyone that crosses the finish line is the winner. I run. I win. You run. You win. The ladies that took an hour to cross the finish line. They win! 

After the race we strolled the streets of the festival then came home. Out of town Son and his wife drove up. They visited the festival but didn't stay very long. 'Cause it was hot. Mr. Macho's sister came over for a quick tour of the state of construction. Then it was time to get ready. We all cleaned up and headed for parts east. It was Lauren's First Communion Day. It was a grand occasion. She looked so beautiful and angelic. She remembered everything she was supposed to do. She seemed very pleased and happy with the day. It was lovely. 

 Lauren is right in the middle. With her pink ribbon.

Enjoying cake at the reception.

Lauren and her BFF. I love this picture. 

Lauren with Fr. Deecy. 

I wish I could take the good feeling from the day and bottle it for her and when she got older and I got older and we had a quiet moment I would open the bottle and we would remember the day and how it was just right. And she would know that I thought she was so perfect and lovely and their was goodness all about her. 

******

After the reception for Lauren we grabbed a bite to eat and drove home. It was late but I still made a blender of Killer Margaritas. To celebrate. Cinqo de Mayo. And they were good. And then we crashed.

***

Sunday began with a leisureliness that felt good. We enjoyed a cooked breakfast with Out of Town Son and wife. After that we sat on our patio and had a good visit before Mr. Macho and I had to clean up for, yes, another church service. Great nephew, Whitt, was baptized today and we were so happy to be a part of the large family gathered to celebrate the day. Whitt is a beautiful baby and he was so good during the long church service. 

OOT Son and wife took their leave while we were at church. We sure enjoyed their visit and can hardly wait to travel down and see THEIR construction project. An entire new house! 

****

It has been an altogether successful weekend full of family and memory making. And holiness.