A weed less ordinary?

Every few weeks I like to go over to the Adelaide property to walk around and see what's growing. Monday night after dinner the weather was beautiful, so we took the kids outside to play for a bit before bed. I decided to put on my rubber rain boots and walk over and see what was up while Dave pushed Simone on the tricycle and Tate ran around. The rubber rain boots are essential for a walk on the property — in the spring it was always muddy, but now there is so much growth that I need them to protect my legs from thorns, sticks and bugs.

It's very green over there right now. Most of the dirt is covered with weeds and foliage, so when there are flowers they pop out very clearly. As expected the orange daylilies were blooming all over the property – in the front, the back, along the fences – everywhere. A great surprise were the sunflowers that are growing. I counted five of them randomly scattered about. They are going to be gorgeous when they bloom. I missed the irises in the back – they had already flowered and died. But, the peach tree!! Oh… the peach tree!! It looked green and healthy, and its limbs were filled with fruit! Last year there were four scragily-looking peach trees that bore no fruit, but we took down three of them and only left the one for some privacy and shade. Well, whatever we did made this little tree super happy and it's just fruiting like mad. Problem is the limbs are all really high. But I guess I'll figure out how to get the fruit down later when it's ripe.

What really caught my eye was one plant in the middle of the property with bright pink flowers on top. So bright, you couldn't miss this plant. The second I stepped up to it, I stopped dead in my tracks. Looked long and hard at the leaves and thought, "Nooooo!! It couldn't be?!?!?!?!" "Could it?!?!?!" The leaves looked like this…

Yup. Pot leaves. Marijuana. But flowers? Do pot plants flower? How would I know? The only times I've seen pot up close it was already rolled into a joint, and my only experience with pot plants are from watching endless episodes of Weeds on DVD. I really had no idea what I was looking at. But it was not a total surprise to see a plant that might be marijuana on this property. Mr. D was a known recreational pot smoker. One neighbor upon returning home from work would find Mr. D sitting in their backyard staring at their koi pond and smoking away. Yes, he would just wander into the neighbor's yard and light up… he thought it was no big deal. So, could he have been growing it in his backyard? Hell, yeah!!

I grabbed a leaf and walked to my neighbor's who stopped cold when she saw it and yelled, "No way!?!?!? Of course he was growing it!!! Is that really pot?!?!" I didn't know. So I went home and showed it to Dave. His reaction was the same, but he told me to go inside and google until I had an answer.

Well, in just a few minutes it was clear that I would not be the Nancy Botwin of Barrington. But instead I was growing Cleome the number one plant commonly mistaken for marijuana. My dreams of a crazy and wild summer were squashed by google and a shitty weed that was not weed.

But I've got sunflowers and peaches. Just as fun, right?!?!?!

Anniversary

We've owned 6 Adelaide Ave for one year today. It's also been a year that the regal kitty Matisse has been gone. Here's a quiz...

Question: I'm drinking wine tonight because I'm....

A: celebrating!

B: sad Matisse has been gone a year.

C: shocked an entire year has gone by!!

D: all of the above

A special thank you to Dave.... for buying the great wine tonight; for believing in my crazy plan to buy this nutty house and teeny, little lot; and for designing us an absolutely amazing new home!! I love you!!

Many Empty Calories

UPDATE 6/12: Thanks Maya for the "Looking good!" and ass slap - I did the extra loop today after your motivation!!

Wherever I go and whoever I see, the topic of conversation always turns to "the house". How's it going? Where are you at? When are you going to start building? My stock answers are as follows: It's going good! We are done with design and ready to start construction drawings! We hope to start building soon!

This is usually enough of an answer for most people. But those who know me well, know that there is more there. They hear the stress and see the angst I'm feeling because there is not a slew of people pounding nails on our dirt patch right now. I get the much needed sympathetic look and words of encouragement. And lately I've been getting this… "You are being sooooo patient!"

I started thinking about that. Patient. How am I doing this. Being patient. I've decided it's the cupcakes. I'm eating my stress away.

If there are not cupcakes in the house, there are cookies. And if there are not cookies, there are brownies. But there are rarely brownies, because there are almost ALWAYS cupcakes!! I had convinced myself I was doing it for the kids. Kids love cupcakes, they'll be so happy. But I finally realized, it is really for me. Homemade nutella frosted, buttery good sugar topped from Whole Foods, or Shaw's cheap mini-cupcakes. It's cake and frosting and they are all yummy! The problem is I'm eating them all. I'm less stressed, but stuffing my face with sugar, butter and white flour is playing havoc with the numbers on my scale. In retaliation against my ever-growing waistline, I've started walking to combat the negative effects of my stress-reducing-cupcake-stuffing.

So if you see me out walking and sweating with a determined look on my face, don't ask how the house is coming. Just tell me I'm looking thin and you don't notice the cupcakes on my ass at all. Because I'm going to need all the encouragement I can get to make it back into my skinny jeans. And if you see me at Shaw's buying the cheap mini-cupcakes, make me put them down and then tell me where to go to buy even better mini-cupcakes. Because I still really NEED the cupcakes.

Thanks.

365 Days

Today marks one year ago that we made the offer, counter-offer, received word that our offer was accepted and then signed a purchase and sales agreement. We are in a bit of limbo right now with the house, so I don't have a lot to say on that front, but I couldn't let today go without a shout out.

I'm having mixed emotions about a year gone by. It certainly doesn't feel as if it's been that long. But, if you told me a year ago that we still wouldn't be in construction right now, I'd have slapped you in the face. Hard. Seriously... really hard. You would have cried.

We have finalized the floor plan (it's fan-freakin-tastic!) and are working on windows right now. We are not doing a traditional double-hung centered in the room type thing, but are exploring a much more modern window treatment with lots of glass and interesting placement.

We just need time. Time where Dave can concentrate on our house and not his clients. It will come. I hope that it comes soon.

For now the house lot sits, waiting, and growing some amazing flowers. The tulips came up by the dozens a few weeks ago and had me out there every few days picking armfuls.

Between now and the beginning of construction, I think it's time to pick up where I left off in the story of how this all came to be... I left off here at the closing. And there is still a lot of story to tell.

When I see someone cry, I usually cry too.

This afternoon while heading out to approve a client's proof at the printer's, we drove by our dirt patch. We do this often. It's good to check in on it, see what's happening. Which is nothing right now. It sits quietly, patiently waiting for backhoes and cement and wood and nails.

But today, it had a visitor.

Someone I didn't recognize was sitting in her car across the street looking at it, while I had stopped in the middle of the road a few houses away to talk to some of my neighbors. She backed up and pulled away, turning the corner toward the water. I followed, I was curious. She then turned down the lane behind our house, got out of her car and headed toward our dirt patch. This got me more curious, so I turned the car around and headed back to the front of the property to see if she was walking around. She was. I pulled over, rolled down the window and nicely asked, "Can I help you?"

"Oh, I'm just looking around. I used to live here," she said. "Cathy?!?!" She smiled widely with my recognition of her and walked over to the car to talk.

It was Mr. D's girlfriend. The one who lived with Mr. D for almost 30 years and loved him dearly. She had come to just look and think and unexpectedly we both ended up in the street, holding hands, looking at the patch of dirt where her house once stood and cried. She wasn't crying out of sadness for the missing house. She was crying over her missing life. Her life with Mr. D, her peace, her contentment. Her memories of the animals, the trees, the flowers, her love.

She talked about the animosity and trouble she received from Mr. D's family, some of it which is still not settled it seems. I didn't understand every thing she said, but I understood her grief. Her grief over losing Mr. D, and her grief over what ensued after his death. She said it was actually easier for her to see the empty lot, than her old house. The empty lot spoke of promise, new life, new love and happiness. She was so glad to learn, way back when we bought it, that it was going to a young family and someone from the neighborhood, that knew her and Mr. D.

I was very relieved to hear her speak those words. I knew she was still in town and that she occasionally drove by to look at the house, and I worried that it would upset her to see the house destroyed. It turns out that the destruction of the house has begun to help her heal, and bring her some closure that she so desperately needs.

I hope that by listening to her today and sharing her tears I helped give her a bit of peace tonight. Because, by listening to her today and sharing her tears, she gave ME a bit of peace tonight.

The past and the future unexpectedly collided in the present, and I'm thankful to the fates that put us together today.

Bye-bye Big Pine

What a nice treat to see someone show up when they said they would and work a straight 3.5 hours only stopping when the job was finished. Well done North Eastern Tree Services. Thank you.

Where once there was a house...

... now there is none.

Just a half hour ago La Machine was turned off and Big Guy stepped down form his perch declaring this lot... CLEAR!

I'm in shock. A job that we were told would take two days, then seemed endless as work started and stalled on an hourly basis every day, is finally done. It took 14 days. But we now have a clear, flat lot. Big Pine still needs to come down. But with the house finally gone, they can now come in and do their job.

There's more to say about this process (well, bitch about really), but I think I'll save that for later and right now, I will celebrate.

No champagne in the house, wine will have to do!

Cheers.

The Smallest State in the Union

Rhode Island is a very small state. Everyone is linked to everyone else by a friend, a family member, the mailman or the guy who slices cheese at the supermarket deli counter. There is a guarantee that your massage therapist will tell you you have to meet Robin who just moved to Barrington because "you two would really hit it off", only to meet this Robin just a few weeks later at your neighbor Laura's holiday party. {True story. And we really did "hit it off." She's very cool.}

There is also a guarantee that at your uncle's funeral, you will talk to your cousin about your demolition project and all the trouble you've been having and have him ask who you are using, then hang his head down, shake it profusely and say, "No. No. Noooooo. Not them. Please tell me your not using them?!?!"

When we were looking at demolition contractors Dave called some well-respected general contractors he works with very regularly. We were given some names, called them all and got bids. The biggest company we called came in with the lowest bid that was also a fixed bid - the other candidates were only a bit higher in their pricing, but couldn't guarantee dumpster costs and said "well, it'll probably cost this much for dumpsters, but it could be higher." It made sense to use the big guys who were cheaper and came highly recommended by a great general contractor who had used them to demolish a large, waterfront home here in town several years back.

So we hired them, inspections went smoothly and then we hit the permitting process and everything began to fall apart. Problems here. Problems there. Problems, problems everywhere. I began to wonder how we could have been recommended a company this bad, by someone we know and trust. It didn't make any sense. Was this just our job? Everything that could possibly go wrong just would?

I know your saying right now, "But they came and knocked-down the house. What's the problem?" Well, they came Tuesday around 10:30am and then left at 12pm. So they worked for 1.5 hours. In that time 95% of the house was knocked down, which is good. But then they left that heap of twisted metal, splintered boards and broken glass to sit overnight. After only working for 1.5 hours. Did I mention that… 1.5 hours! Then the guy Dave deals with over there had the nerve to call and ask for another 1/3 of the fee. Nope. Sorry. No more money for you until the giant dangerous pile of rubble is gone. He and Dave fought a bit about this on the phone yesterday morning before we left for the funeral.

{Site at 12pm on Tuesday}

So, there is my cousin James shaking his head in total disbelief that we've hired this company and now Dave and I are starting to sweat a little in our fancy clothes as to why he is having such a strong reaction. It turns out that my cousin and his ex-wife, Gina, are friends with the guy who owns the demo company. He and Gina grew up together in the same neighborhood and we got the backstory: the company was owned by the father, who died just a couple of years ago, and the son (who is friends with my cousin) took over the company. This finally all makes sense to me now. When the job was done for the guy who recommended them to us, the demo company was being run by the dad. It is now being run by the son and obviously they have very different working styles, which is well-known among his friends.

James then told us, "Call him and tell him your my cousin. Things will be very different. You'll see. Totally different. Make sure you call him and tell him. Do it!!" Now, my cousin is a big guy. He tells you to do something, you do it. Gina also said that she would call him directly and if things still weren't OK, she'd call his mother for us!! She then rattled off his mother's phone number which she knows by heart, and laughingly told us we should call her too. She'd "slap her son upside his head" if she knew what was going on.

Wouldn't that be great… his mom comes by a job site and starts yelling at him for a crappy job he's doing for clients in Barrington and when he asks how she knows this, she's says we called her house and ratted him out!!! Oh… but that would be fun.

Dave did indeed make the phone call yesterday and upon hearing who we were related to, the tone changed immediately… suddenly we would be getting more trucks at our site to make sure we were done before the snow tomorrow and he would look at the bill to see if he could "shave a bit off."

Well… there are no extra trucks today. Still just the one. We were promised that it would all be done today, that did not happen. However, there was great progress made today. All of the house, garage, decks and animal pens are gone. Completely gone. Hauled off to the Johnston Landfill. Still sitting on the lot are some trees and the two sheds in the back. The workers have gone for the day, but they left the big machine and a half-filled dumpster. Both excellent signs that they won't be gone too long. One good thing that has come out of having an "in" with the demo company is there is no more mention of paying them another 1/3 of the fee right now. So there's that.

{Site at end of day Thursday}

I've decided to run all our potential contractors past my cousin James to see if he or his ex-wife or his mailman or the guy who slices cheese at his local supermarket know anything about them. This is Rhode Island after all.

The house that won't go away.

Holy guacamole!!!

When you have two young children living in your house, this is what you say instead of: Holy fucking fuck fuck!!!! Oh, wait… I'm blogging and Tate can't read very well yet… so let me amend…

Holy fucking fuck fuck!!!!!

It's Tuesday night and the house still stands.

Monday morning we were prepared for the start of tear-down, called the demo company and waited a half hour for a call back. We were told that they were finishing up another job and would deliver the equipment later in the day and then get started. So I drove Tate to school and Dave headed off to work. Early afternoon brought about the latest in screw-ups by the demo company. The bond… dun dun dun dunnnnnnn…..

They screwed it up. Are you surprised? I wasn't.

Where they were supposed to list the Town of Barrington, they listed Dave's employer. Yup. Dave's employer. I'm not really sure what a bond exactly is — some type of insurance that the job will be done and done right. Right? But, I do know that it is official and serious. No work could be done without the issue of a new, corrected bond and then a new demolition permit.

Today at noon, that new demolition permit was issued. But tomorrow we are getting snow. Supposedly, a lot of it. Knowing what the forecast was, the demo company called off any work for today — the smartest thing they've done yet. The lot is super small and their equipment and trucks are super big. A snow storm usually brings with it a parking ban and so their trucks, that would need to be on the street, would have no place to sleep tonight with a parking ban in order.

The new "plan" — I use that term loosely — is the arrival of equipment and trucks on Thursday, to be directly followed by house crunching. Friday will be the day to clear the debris, with the tree guys coming back to the site early next week to take out the monster pine.

Meanwhile, the champagne in the refrigerator is feeling neglected and abandoned. I hope to make it feel loved and wanted very soon.

Notification

Along with a new blanket of snow, the house also got a notice. A poster-sized paper, with bold, black lettering clearly stating the fate of the house. A demolition notice.

Part of the town's permitting process is that a notice be placed on the doomed house at least three days before demolition or the owner's will be in violation of the ordinance. We know this. We have a copy of the ordinance. So Friday, three days before the supposed demolition, there was no notice on the house. 3pm… no notice. Dave called the demo company.

Dave: When are you going to get the notice up.

Co.: Oh, we've got three printed out and we are going to be at the house tomorrow to put them up.

Dave: Nope. You need to do it today.

Co.: No, we're going to do it tomorrow.

Dave: The notice needs to be up three days before demo.

Co.: No. Just two days.

Dave: No. Three days.

Co.: I talked to the building guy and I'm pretty sure he said as long as it's up two days before we're good.

Dave: No. It's three days. I'm absolutely sure, it's three days. It needs to go up today.

Co.: No, really, it's fine. It can go up tomorrow.

Dave: Really, it's three days. Would you like to know how I know? I'm on the Zoning Board. This new ordinance came before our board recently. I voted on it. Right here in my hand is a copy of the ordinance. Here, let me fax it to you.

Co.: Oh. Ummmm…. okay. I'll go over there today and put up the notice.

Dave: Don't bother. I've already done it.

Tomorrow, that notice should end up in a dumpster along with the entire house. Should. Should end up in a dumpster. There have been too many problems and too many miscommunications for us to feel fully confident that it will really happen tomorrow. But we are prepared anyway. Grandparents are coming to take care of the kids. Tate's staying out of school for the day to see the knock-down. Camera memory cards have been cleared and batteries have been charged. Most importantly, a bottle of champagne is chilling in the fridge, to be hopefully popped open when the gigantic arm of a backhoe smashes through our house.

If a tree does not fall on your property, it does not make a sound.

Screw-ups and false starts are great fuel for the blog. Right? Then, consider this my gift to you. It allows you to read along, while sitting comfortably on your couch, ensconced in a blanket, maybe a cup of coffee or a glass of wine in hand, and laugh while thinking, "Those poor bastards… glad that's not me."

So, I drove Tate to school this morning and we decided to go past the house on our way there. Lo and behold, out front was a ginormous, green bucket truck, a chipper/shredder and a dump truck all emblazoned with the tree services logo. Yeah!!!! They are here. They showed up. They are going to do their job. It was a beautiful sight. I was so excited!! I dropped Tate at school, stopped by the bagel shop to grab a bagel for myself and a muffin for Simone and headed back home to eat. We drove past the house again and the guys were unloading ropes… a good sign.

During breakfast, I decided that when we were done, Simone and I would walk up to the house and snap a few photos of the trees coming down. As breakfast wrapped up, Dave walked through the front door and just moments later the big, green tree service truck drove past… away from the house, the trees and the work. "What's going on?"

Turns out the tree service was only going to take down a huge pine tree at the side of the house. This tree straddles our property and our neighbor's property too. Many of it's branches rest comfortably on the roof of our neighbor's garage. Access to this tree is down the very narrow side yard, with probably only 7 feet of work space before you bump into our house on one side or the neighbor's aforementioned garage on the other, not to mention the fence that blocks a lot of that access area. Did I say that this tree is also really huge. Really huge. And tall. The demo company felt that their equipment could handle felling all the trees on the property, except for this one. So they hired the tree experts with the big green trucks to handle this one pine.

{super tight work area}

Well, big, green truck tree service quoted the price for the tree to come down AFTER the house had been demolished. The ever-screwing-up demo company did not know this, and thought that Big Pine would come down BEFORE the house was leveled. Apparently, the tree could come down today, but it would require more climbing from the tree guys, meaning more time, really meaning more money. After a conversation with their supervisor, the men with the big, green trucks packed up and headed for other trees that needed to be felled.

This was sad.

Stumped

Tomorrow... we get to celebrate.

TEAR DOWN!!!

Well, the beginning of tear down. If all goes right, and the workmen aren't afraid of a little snow shower, the trees in the front yard come down tomorrow and some large equipment gets delivered to sit over the weekend in anticipation of tearing down the house on Monday.

I have some reservations about this actually happening. This house should have been down over a month ago. The demo company seemed to have dropped the ball on the permitting process with the town, and we are only this far along because Dave stepped in, made a bunch of phone calls, set up meetings and made sure everyone finally knew what they needed to do. Part of the process includes notification letters within 10 days of demo, to all the neighbors within a 200 foot radius that the house is being demolished. Those letters did go out…

{Laura happily holding her letter}

I now await the sound of chainsaws and then I will begin jumping for joy! Oh, I suppose I should head out to stock up on champagne. With any luck, I'm going to need it come Monday!

Special thanks to my wonderful neighbor Laura for not only calling me to tell me the letter arrived, but also for humoring me by posing for the cheesy photo.

Silver-lined Toilets

A few days ago, as the clock ticked it's minutes away into the New Year and I drank champagne, we entered the year the house would be built. 2011 :: The Year of the House! I'm also hoping that it will be 2011 :: The Year of Champagne! We have lots to look forward to and lots to celebrate, and I plan on doing so as often as possible. I'm going to celebrate all the milestones in this project, even if they've occurred with mountains of stress beforehand, or precede molehills of crazy afterwards. I'm going to look at the bright-side of all the sheets of plywood and remember that every toilet has a silver-lining. I will not get mired down in the slog of concrete or worry about a rusty nail or two. The crazy will happen - it's unavoidable - but my reaction to it can be of my choosing. And I'm choosing celebration! And champagne.