Are you there, God? It's Me, D.

Dear God(dess/Allah/Yahweh/Buddha/Vishnu/Takuskanskan/Zeus, et al.),

Seriously, what have I done to offend thee so? I'm not trying to dismiss my imperfections - and they are many - and I'm not trying to sit in judgment of others when I write this (truly!) - but am I as bad as the Tony Haywards or Rush Limbaughs of this world? Because I bet their houses haven't been under construction for four years, and I have to wonder - pretty much every time I pick up the paper and see a stream of viciousness, vile, and oil spewed forth to sully this beautiful world you all have put together - you know, the one I have devoted my entire career and much of my "free time" trying to protect from the whims of these crazy creatures called "humans" you chose to invent for reasons I'm sure you don't remember anymore, either - I can't help but feel a bit of resentment about their (respective) $18 million reward for overseeing the biggest environmental catastrophe in the Gulf and five house compound complete with a miniature version of the Biltmore Library - an offense to those who actually seek wisdom and truth if there ever was one.

I'm not even asking for a 24,000 ft2 mansion with cherubs dancing on the ceilings of my library or an $18MM golden parachute and transfer to Russia. I'd just like to finish a 500 ft2 addition without going into bankruptcy or the insane asylum. But while we're on the subject of libraries, I would also like to be able to sit on our worn out sofa to read a book without ending up covered in cat hair, although I know the vacuum is clearly under my control (I'm just saying, if you could engineer a cute and furry cat that doesn't shed, that would be perfect - and that bald sphinx cat thing clearly had to be a joke in response to someone else's prayer who fogot to specify that they wanted a cat with fur that didn't shed. I'm guessing they didn't realize your penchant for specificity, which should be obvious from all the laws you've set forth. So, while I'm thinking of it, if this new cat didn't want to naturally shred the furniture, yowl at 5am for no reason, or use its bodily functions as a means of expressing displeasure, that would involve major bonus points.) (But let me be clear, I can totally live without my dream cat - that's more of an extra-curricular project if you're interested. I'm here about the addition. But you know how I always digress.)

I remained optimistic when you sent that weird tornado-like storm through our neighborhood yesterday and took down half the trees in the area that the power would be on in time for the drywall guys to come in today and sand the mud so we can finally paint, so we can finally put in the floor, so we can finally put up the glass block wall and finally move on with our lives. I did not ONCE complain about not having A/C last night - not even silently, in my head. If you were listening, you would have heard my usual optimism saying "Well, at least there's a cool breeze tonight! Could be worse!!" You saw me reading my book on the roof garden by glowstick - you did not hear me complaining! You heard me enjoying the night air and the sounds of your multitude of chirpy insects (I'm sorry if flicking that spider off of me offended you - i'm sure it didn't get hurt, though). And when the power finally came on at 7:45am - right before the 8am deadline to let the drywall guys know whether they could work today - I thanked you, but was not surprised. I knew you would come through.

It's when I heard the transformer behind the house explode as the power shut back off at 8:15 am and stayed off, despite my pleading with you on actual bended knees to turn it back on before 9 am pretty, pretty, pretty please with sugar on top, pleeeeeeeeease!! and yet off it remained and then, to top it off, the drywall guys now can't come to work until Tuesday, that I was reminded of Job's most famous line: Oh God, why hast thou forsaken me?! I'm sorry, I know that when Job said it, you were gravely disappointed, and so you're probably none too pleased with me for thinking it, either. But there's only so much the human spirit can endure, you know?

I know, I know, I'm a drama queen. You made me, though, so you get what you pay for, I guess. But seriously, consider this a formal petition: please, Lord, let my project go. I'm sorry if I built it on a sacred burial ground or the font of your perpetual anger. Like Eve, I didn't really know what I was getting into here - I was lured by the slick talk of a snake and a heavenly (i.e., Dwell-worthy) design. You would have fallen for it, too, had you been facing the real estate market of 2006 when you made this decision. But anyway, I'm really, really sorry, and I beg your forgiveness and I know there are googles of things that are vastly more important than the construction plight of one silly girl (and boy) - wars, floods, famines, diseases, etc. - seriously, I get that and feel guilty for even bothering you about this. But if you have a little extra time - just a second - we could use your help in bringing this project to closure before I lose my mind. I'm not even asking for a return of all my previous good fortune seven-fold (besides, if we had 7 cats, I think the boy would move out, so one is cool), I'd just like peace.

Yours truly,

D.

The Butterfly

I have so many things to write about the house, but none of them are particularly inspiring. So, per the urging of a friend of mine, I am sharing with those few of you who still read this blog a little story I related to her regarding my journey home yesterday.

I was riding the metro home, lodged in my turbulent head, feeling like crap (ill, old, wondering what it's all for), when my eyes happened upon the most beautiful butterfly resting on the very bottom of the divider by one of the doors. This was around Pentagon station. Despite the stops, no one else seemed to notice this majestic yellow and black bit of fauna that had inexplicably left its more appropriate context for this industrial world. And, as it didn't once flap its wings or move the slightest bit despite the shuffling on and off of the passengers, I thought it might well be dead.

As we approached my station, I got up and walked over to the butterfly and just as the train stopped, bent down to see if it was alive and to try to take it off of the train. As I gently reached out my fingers, suddenly up and away it flitted, and a frantic effort to catch or direct the butterfly off the train ensued. There I was, chasing a butterfly about the train car, trying to get both of us off before the doors closed. And everyone's sullen spaced-out faces suddenly came alive with the surprise adventure playing out before them and I could feel the collected hush and tension - everyone rooting for me to help this poor creature escape, while also thinking I was slightly batty. There were oooos and finally ohhhs as the butterfly miraculously latched itself onto my waist and I was able to dart out the doors just before they closed.

And there the butterfly remained as I walked home trying to shelter it from the wind, past the quizzical stares and smiles of passing strangers. It was a little ragged at the bottom of its wings, and clung to me all the way to the house. I thought it might be at the end of its life and just couldn't bear to think of this beautiful creature dying alone on a subway car. So I transferred it to our tomato plant in the hope that it might eat something (not knowing, exactly what butterflies eat, but having seen some in the zoo eating fruit). I went out an hour later and it hadn't moved and as I was terrified that it would be knocked from the leaves by the wind, we plucked the leaf it sat on and placed it on the more sheltered lavender cotton plant, which is closer to a patch of moss, so that should its end be nigh, it would not drop down onto a ragged concrete sidewalk but onto a soft green space as would be more appropriate.

This morning I went out, holding my breath, but the butterfly had flown away.

Finally, Hope!

In today's Post Express, I find hope for our contracting woes:

OMG - I have all of those symptoms!! Well, except for "Obeah" and "Blocked Ways," which I don't know the meaning of, but if they're related in any way to all the others, I am very likely exhibiting those symptoms as well.



I am on my THIRD CONTRACTOR and I definitely have PROBLEMS and I am ready to GET HELP. If you're looking for me on July 27 after 8pm, you know where to find me.

Our life, in pictures

If you can't see this very well, click here.

If Only We Were Contractors

What we have accomplished in the last 30 days, on top of our other full time jobs:

1) Powerwash and stain fence and shed. Install hooks to hang family of bicycles, thereby proving viability of architect's plan (as improved by builder) for all 3 bicycles to fit in shed and disproving husband's disbelief on this point.

2) Plant 2 ginormous trees. Prune trees and shrubs in front, plant annual vegetable crop.

3) Plant tree and 10 shrubs for neighbors to thank them for putting up with the crap they've endured for the last 3.5 years.

4) Run all audio wire and cable for addition.

5) Installed new microwave (okay, we really only helped our friend on this one).

6) Scheduled repairman for new microwave's terrifyingly squealy and smoky convection setting.

7) Called animal control on neighbors regarding feral cat problem; first response from City in years to delight of entire neighborhood.

8) Tried to schedule inspection of fireplace only to discover that permits expired 10 months ago for lack of work. Pleaded with City Code Department to not force us to reapply all over again lest I end up in insane asylum. Pleas heard; permit reinstated; asylum avoided. Scheduled fireplace inspection. Passed inspection - we are now batting 1000 for inspections in 2010!

9) Freecycled all the tile samples getting in everyone's way to the delight of all.

10) Finally picked and ordered wood flooring.

11) Left several (unreturned) messages with HVAC guy to please, please, PLEASE come finish this project.

12) Demo'ed the stairs. Again, not us, but amazingly kind friend. (For all the woes of this house, the one positive constant is the warmth and love our friends have shown us over the years in pitching in. Warm fuzzies to all of you!)

13) Called City to challenge new tax increase clearly based on a finished addition which clearly does not exist. City appraiser kindly came out for a look and voluntarily retracted increase.

14) Replaced old potrack that required a wall with much improved new potrack which dangles from ceiling. Figured out how to hang new potrack from steel beam. Problem solved in 4 days, start to finish (this was entirely husband's handiwork, so kudos to him).

Here's the special i-beam clamps we found on the interwebs:

And here's the final product:


That's a pretty long list if you knew the hours we were pulling at work, too. So I am very proud of all these accomplishments! YAY US!!

On the downside (because apparently, with this project, there's never just an upside), our actual contractor has put in less time on the project over the last month than we have. And, apparently, we can't get him full time until August because he has a client he was hired by in January whose basement he gutted 2 months ago who he just can't keep putting off. He said this as if to evoke our sympathy, but we stood there speechless, as we hired him a year ago, he knocked down our wall 6 weeks ago, and our entire house is a total wreck...

Sometimes I think I should quit my day job and go into contracting. Here is what you would get from me if I did:

1) A full cost estimate and realistic timeline before the project. You wouldn't have to double anything, because I already would have, and I'll tell you that. So odds are high that I'll come in early and under budget, but if I was still wrong, that's my problem, not yours.

2) I would work solely on your project until it was done. Other people, even if good clients, would just have to wait, unless it involves Rule #6. Everyone would be willing to wait, because my policy will be clear and they will benefit from it, too.

3) I would clean up after myself everyday.

4) I would give you status updates at least twice a week on my own initiative and would not avoid you even if the news was bad.

5) My employees will be treated respectfully and everyone will have health insurance. Also, I will not hire anyone whose work isn't as good or better than mine even if I'm not looking. Which I will be. Good people will work for me because I will pay them appropriately. This means I will not be as cheap as others, but I will not be unfair either, and what you get will be worth every cent.

6) If it breaks afterwards, I will assume that it was my bad and fix it toot sweet.

7) You'll get some homemade cookies to celebrate at the beginning and at the end. And to console you if there's a hiccup. And if you're not happy with my work, then I'm not done yet.

There it is: Seven Steps to Highly Successful Contracting. Now if I only had all the necessary skills...

We Are the Lorax

Here is what we did for Earth Day/Arbor Day/to Celebrate Spring:

1) Go to Alexandria Earth Day. Buy Forest Pansy Redbud for neighbor at Earth Day Tree Sale.

2) Leave Earth Day and go to Merrifield Garden Center's new Gainesville, VA location. Gape in awe at enormous selection - trees and shrubs as far as the eye can see. Hit Heritage River Birch section. Pick out enormous tree. Then pick out slightly smaller but straighter tree instead. Go to ornamental section. Negotiate appropriate size of tree with husband. Bring in Merrifield's outstanding landscape architect, Robert, as mediator. Both of you listen enraptured as he discusses cherry blossom scenes in The Last Samurai. Know this is your man. Husband wins tree negotiation over installation of a Japanese White Pine in the corner. Console yourself with tomato plants and make mental note to purchase your husband a book on Japanese tree pruning.

3) Get a good night's sleep!

4) Knock, knock! Who's there?

Oh aren't you cute?

Oh crap.

5) Have husband dig gigantic hole while you run to Lowe's for compost. Come back to already dug hole for giant birch tree. Nearly kill yourselves getting tree into hole facing the wrong direction. Use each other, the tree, and the hole in a pseudo-Spirograph method to turn tree in correct position. Fill hole.

6) Help your husband dig hole for pine tree. Or not:

Hmm. Go back to Lowe's.

7) Fix pipe.

8) Plant pine tree in correct direction and fill hole while husband plants neighbor's new tree.

9) Water. Enjoy accomplishing massive feat before dark! Go out for tacos to celebrate.

What's green and has a big hole in the wall?

Green roof:

The wall comes down:

That's the face of progress, my long-lost friends. We have been inching forward at a snail's pace for so long, that such a sudden leap forward in a single day really took our breath away - and not just because of all the dust.

I watched the sun set over our new green roof and imagined future dinners al fresco and then came downstairs and pulled out a chair, sat down, and stared at this for awhile. I can see what a huge difference this space is going to make once it's done, and for the first time in 3 years and 3 months, I can really see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now if only we can keep the train on track.