“Lower Your Standards”

When we bought the New House 9 months ago, we were warned by the home inspector that there was some water leakage in the basement. He advised re-grading and if that failed than a B-Dry system. We re-graded that first summer and decided to wait until Spring to see the extent of the problem. Well, at the turn of the thaw we definitely had some water in the basement so when we went to the home and garden show last weekend we signed up with a couple of places to give a free inspection.

The first guy is from a fictitious company called Everdry that has 21 stores in 14 states as the salesman told us half a dozen times. Flatly, he was an ass. Wouldn’t let us get a question in edgewise – a real “stick to the script” kind of guy – and stayed for an hour and a half trying to sell us on the most expensive waterproofing system they had for a total of over $11,0000. I laughed at him. I tried to be polite about my laughter, but omm, ok, maybe it didn’t work.

The second guy from a totally real firm called STAY DRY was awesome. The kind of guy you want to do business with. And even though we have some different values – he’s an ex-marine with a USA flag sweater who has religious symbols on his business card – I totally liked having him around and would pay him hard cash in a heartbeat. Plus he called me ma’am and I thought it was kind of sexy. Whoulda thunk that by the time I got old enough to be called ma’am I’d like it? In any case, his price came in at $5750.

We have, however, decided to take a pass on the whole thing. A friend of mine advised me about a year ago to lower my standards. I forget what I was complaining about. But she’s the type of friend who can say that kind of thing and I will consider it carefully. And in the case of my basement that only gets a little bit wet and only in the Spring, I have decided to lower my standards, relegate some older towels and a tablecloth to mopping up water, buy a good box fan (our current box fan died in the course of doing its basement-drying duty), and lower the humidity threshold on the dehumidfier. Maybe in 5-10 years, or if the water creeps into the living quarters part of the basement and not just the workshop with the concrete floor, we’ll actually need to pay out the cash, but in the meantime, we’re just gonna make do.

Classics Reading cont.

My continued foray into classics have included:

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe: A definite winner. Totally readable even 360 years after it was written. What I like most about this book is its very different worldview from current times. By “modern” standards it’s sexist, racist and – perhaps worst of all – not environmentally conscious. For all that, I like it. It really sounds and feels different than modern books. Interestingly, I found the religious tone to be right on target with current American mores. Hmmmmm……

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson. Absolutely charming. A children’s classic about two kids from different backgrounds who find their soulmates in each other and create a fantasy kingdom. Realistic and earthy, this one rings true at every turn. A beautiful, quick read and a nice reminder that you don’t have to use sex or a have potty mouth to make a good story.

Now I’m headed back to Star Trek and some favorite re-runs for awhile…

TBBDCHJLST

The title of this little piece is my confirmation code for the Johnny’s Seeds purchase of shady woodland mix and the two types of sunflowers that I threw in for good measure – the Sonja variety and a firecracker dwarf variety (I plan to plant them at the posts of my fence, alternating between the two varieties around the fence).

I can’t tell you how close I came to bagging the whole seed thing, but then I got this cheerful gardening advice email from my friend J and I beat back the throngs of nay-sayers in my own head and I did it! Silly for a grown woman to be afraid of a flower.

Fare Thee Well

This past weekend we had a Fare Thee Well party for my cousin G. This is him, with grandma. It occurred to me that I’ve wished rather a lot of people in my family and work life fare thee well over the past year.

I’ve had one uncle and one uncle-and-aunt-combo leave Michigan – for Ohio and for Florida (my other two uncles left Michigan long ago). Two other cousins left for Florida and Chicago in the past two years.

Cousin G. is leaving to take work in North Carolina – where the benefits of the weather have to be balanced against the fact that most of the buildings on the campus he’s headed to are named after traitors from the War of Southern Treason. He took along with him a solid gift certificate to Outback and a quart of the best chocolate milk this side of the Rockies

In addition, I’ve known three colleagues in the library world leave Michigan in the past year. None for “not liking” Michigan, but because there weren’t any jobs here.

It’s rather a sad time. We’re having real trouble keeping talent, and even more attracting it. I hadn’t noticed until now just what a down-turn Michigan is in, instead the incremental problems just crept in and were accepted. We’re in big trouble. And Granholm and Co. are preparing to cut the state budget even further. This might be a good time to mention Hubby and I are state employees.

Shady Woodland Mix

SnakeLady has a distressing record when it comes to plant care. Most plants simply die when assigned by the earth gods to be watched over by me. I forget about them, or over-water, or under-water, or look at them funny, and they give up the ghost. My favorite plants are cactii. You can forget about them for MONTHS with no harm done. Unfortunately, they are as boring as the dirt they thrive in.

This year, my first growing season in the new house, I have decided that I shall grow something. A friend recommended Johnny’s seed catalog and after poring over the catalog for a flower that would

1. Grow in the shade

2. Require minimal care

3. Be pretty

I decided on the Shady Woodland Mix, a lovely mix of Shasta Daisy, Chinese Houses, Farewll-to-Spring, Forget-me-Not, Wallflower, Foxglove, Dame’s Rocket, Catchfly, Toadflax, Satin Flower, Columbine, Johnny-Jump-Ups and Maltese Cross.

My first challenge is in figuring out when to plant it as the catalog does not say.

As I prepare to purchase these seeds, I am attaching images of our backyard in the snow. I’ll update the photos over the growing season and hopefully have something to show for it.

Ghosts of Clean Water Action

The stage: 7:45 p.m. Hubby and I are moving the new-new DVD player from the bedroom to the living room and the doorbell rings. I’m already in my pj’s so I hide in the hallway while he answers it.

“Hi,” I hear a chipper young voice say, “I’m from Clean Water Action …”

I leap from the hallway. “I used to canvas for Greenpeace, come on in,” I say.

In high school I canvassed for Greenpeace through the whole of a very Michigan winter and into the next early summer, about 6 months. I have had a persistent fantasy ever since of how I would treat a canvasser coming to my door. This is my first opportunity. And it was everything I ever dreampt it could be.

“Do you need something to drink?” I ask. “A Coke?” Cause you normally don’t carry water and you are thirsty, walking through neighborhoods and talking to strangers for four hours. She says she’s fine, but obviously grateful to be asked.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” I offer. Cause women especially have a hard time with this in residential areas. When she demurs I tell her to feel free to come back if she has a hard time finding a bathroom later in the evening.

She does her standard sales pitch which starts at $60 and in the interests of being cool I don’t bat an eye, “I can do $60,” I say, all to impress the young canvasser. I write a check.

Hubby’s impressions of me later have me offering to bake her homemade bread, loan her our car to make her rounds, and give her my cell phone in case she needs to call me for anything I forgot to offer, like a place to sleep.

The most important thing is that, 20 years after I stopped canvassing myself, I finally had the opportunity to be good to a canvasser and lay to rest the demons of mean Detroit suburbanites who wouldn’t let me use their bathroom when it was ten degrees below zero and I’d been out in the snow for three hours.

Ah, my karma is good. Today is a good day to die.

Crappy Piece of Crap DVD Player

Last weekend, strolling through Sears as grownups are wont to do on occasion, I found a DVD player for $29.

Twenty! nine! dollars!

Hubby’s first DVD player 6 years ago came in at just over $300. Until our weekend stroll it was our only DVD player, and a fine job it does. A quiet trooper delivering up entertainment and documentary videos from Netflix on a regular basis.

I was so overcome with the prospect of buying a second DVD player for only twenty! nine! dollars! that I snatched it off the shelf, surruptiously looking behind me for the thief who might try to steal such a great deal away from me. I had taken it for granted that all DVD players, regardless of cost, would have the functions that our current DVD player has.

Not ones that cost twenty nine dollars.

It runs like a 57 Chevy tumbling off a cliff. It has the usability features of a piece of cheese (when you press stop and then play it doesn’t remember where you were). The remote has two play buttons, two rewind buttons, two fast forward buttons (what the heck is that?!?!?!?!).

As I was complaining, Hubby asked if I appreciated how he had allowed me to select and buy a piece of crap without interrupting my unfounded joy. I agreed that he had indeed been gentle and patient during the entire crap-buying process. He then smoothly and efficiently took over the return-and-replace-with-a-better-dvd-player process. We haven’t been to the store yet and I already know the minimum amount we are spending. There is no cap.