Monday, March 16, 2009

THE FUGLIEST FIREPLACE IS IN THE DUMPSTER. DAMN.

So, Frank has returned from a successful business trip to Nelson. I picked him up from the ferry terminal at about 10:25 last Wednesday night. My two nights or so being able to do whatever I wanted - not so successful. I had started an artsy-quilty-melty experiment to play with while he was gone. The Black Prince's mother returned from her vacation. We had the Balderson's 5-year old cheddar. All the stars were aligned for me to have a perfect few days.

However ... real life intervened and totally screwed up my well laid plans. Firstly, we had snow. AGAIN. The first three flights out were cancelled and the fourth - well, let me put it this way.  Frank rebooked his flight, ending up on the last flight out at approximately 4:30 by which time the snow had almost completely melted - at least enough for me to drive in it.

Head on home from the harbour. Eat Balderson's and have a glass of wine while sewing. Make a few phone calls, e a few mails, ignore Skype due to a plethora of people with screen names that when spoken out loud sound pornographic and wonder why they don't get a life of their own. Poke around with stuff, bore myself into a comatose state and go to bed. Next day, an excursion to Ladysmith and a visit to the Wordly Gourmet (thanks Jenny and Cal) and a walk-about. Return to car to head home and cell phone call from Helen, Black Prince the Relentless's mom.  For some reason, she wants HER dog back. We agree to meet at the Crow & Gate for lunch. Thoroughly enjoy a lovely 2-hour lunch with a glass of wine and pot of tea (she's a Brit) and return home where the Black Prince is out of his mind with excitement and Rosie the Chocolate Taunting Temptress heaves a huge sight of relief and settles into her big puffy pillow for a very long, uninterrupted nap. I realize I don't feel so good and end up with a stomach bug that does not go away until Friday - i.e. two days after Frank's return. SHIIIITTT. So much for quality time by myself with just me and some wine, Balderson's, and my sewing machine. No stash used. Hardly any wine consumed.

Felt much better by Friday afternoon and continued to improve, so Saturday's dinner with our dear friends Patti and Nolan at the Wesley Street Restaurant went ahead as planned. Oh my God. What a fabulous restaurant. What fabulous food. What wonderful friends to have in our lives after nearly 20 years of missing out. The hostess/sommelier chose for us a perfect Pinot Noir (last week's choice was also a Pinot Noir from a different winery) and I look forward to Frank's next birthday in April with great anticipation. He has suggested that we try to go there once a month. TRY? I'm in for once every two months! But, being a dutiful wife (no women's lib here), I'll go there once a month if he really, really wants. After all, I did promise to "obey".

So far for the past couple of weeks, no measurable stash used. Not even thread puked up by one of the cats. I am beginning to think that "using my stash" is just an euphemism for spending time in my sewing room, watching what I want on TV and playing with the laptop. (Or doing diddly-squat and not having to justify it!)

Pictures to be posted in a bit. The greatest news! The fugly fireplace is gone. Toast. History. Derbish (don't ask - or do, if more info is required or you are in need of a good laugh).  And we have a new roof. The roofer had a dumpster delivered for the discarded roofing material. Informed us to put stuff in it, because he wouldn't be filling it. (My regular reader will remember that Frank recently painted ... and I recently washed, waxed, polished, dusted, vacuumed, etc. everything I could get my hands on. Well, those same decorations, ornaments, objets d'art, pictures, windows, walls, picture frames, picture glass,  etc. ad infinitum now require a repeat of ... oh SHIIITTT BUGGER DAMN!)

Anyway - the roofer finished today. (We really hope he brings his wife here for coffee or a beer one day - we liked him. We are keeping our fingers crossed for his wife Sherry whom we have never met - she just had a total hysterectomy and lumps were found in her breast.) The last of the fugly fireplace is in the dumpster, the dusting etc. have commenced. Dinner and wine have been consumed - and even though I know that when I get up tomorrow, I will be spending time with the Beam vac - that goddawful fireplace will never again have Christmas stockings hanging from it and that makes me very, very happy.  New garage doors are to be installed tomorrow. No more rotten/frozen veggies and fruit stored in the garage. Added bonus - there's a tax credit ... great.

Oh. Except ... The flooring will need to be replaced (throughout the house) ... and the ceiling needs re-crumbing or whatever that spray stuff is called (in at least two rooms - no sparkles please).  And the wall where the fireplace was needs painting ... and on and on and on -  but I AM happy. However, I could be ECSTATIC if ... the kitchen were ... the flooring ... new windows ... french doors ... carpeting ... 

WHERE THE FUGLY FIREPLACE WAS ...




WHERE THE FUGLY FIREPLACE IS ...




AND ... futhermore ... I don't understand why my photos end up at the top of this blog and I have to move them myself - no cut, paste, copy, insert or whatever. Just appear at the top of the blog and make me crazy trying to line them up (anal retentive) where I (bold, underline, italic, big font) want them.

If my long-lost friend ELM (formerly ELD) is reading this - hugs - and I apologize for being a bitch 40'odd years ago.

Next up may relate to calendars and the daunting task of  blogging EVERY DAY?!!!

Love to my family and friends.

AND THIS IS THE GUY WHO DID IT ...!!!!!! (He has been climbing ladders for me for nearly 35 years.)











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