What do you get when you cross a man, a woman, a 250 year old house, and a big green insulation machine? Labor and Delivery, Dole House Style!
SO. This past weekend when I should have been walking in Automattic’s Worldwide WP 5K, I was engaged in another form of exercise instead. Significantly less scenic, exceedingly expensive and 100% NOT FUN.
Saturday afternoon my husband fell through a hole on our back deck. I did not photograph my husband in the hole, opting instead to help him out. But here’s the aftermath. (He’s okay by the way.)
I know you’ve been wondering where I’ve been. While I’d like to offer some excuse, I’d rather brag blog about our latest home improvement project!
[Insert loud applause]
Thank you, thank you. Now. To recap. My husband & I bought ye olde village manse 10 months ago. Maaaaaaany people had looked at this house before us, but turned tail & fled when they realized the amount of work it would require to maintain, let alone restore. My husband & I (dreamers through & through) saw a shining gem of a colonial that with much polishing & SWEAT EQUITY could be Home (capital H).
When we moved in 10 months ago – and that alone is hard to believe, this was our office.
Eight months ago, my husband & I bought a new house. And by new, I really mean 250 years old and in need of restoration. While structurally sound, parts of the house needed to be rebuilt, others merely updated. The kitchen fit into the latter category. It was from the 1950s, the oven didn’t work well, but everything else was fine for the time being. We made the decision to postpone the kitchen until spring, when our tax refund could cover improvements. Last month it arrived. Our refund wasn’t huge, but it would be enough. And in true If You Give a Moose a Muffin fashion, one thing inevitably led to another, and…
9 am and they just left. A family of fifteen. Talk about ANIMALS! By the end of the meal, they’d knocked a tray to the ground, there was food everywhere, and 2 of the kids were pooping in the bushes. And they didn’t even pay!! I turned my back for a minute and they’d run off. I’d try to catch them, but 6 ladies just walked in, there’s a group of 7 due any minute, and a party of 16 this afternoon. You’d think they’d have the courtesy to call in a reservation. But of course not. They are TURKEYS after all.