C.J. Cherryh's Blog, page 12

Repair stopped—for the day—

We have spent 3 days fixing a wiring problem in our attic, which is one of those low-profile roofs, requiring a body to be jockey-sized. Or smaller. Today—noonish—we got the sucker. When wiring has to connect across an old ‘addition’ boundary, ie, old to new section, strange things can happen, especially regarding accessibility of things.

In this case we had a three-way switch that wouldn’t three-way successfully, and it wasn’t possible just to pull all the wires (which were trapped at the joining of old section to new) and rewire. It was a matter of logicking it out, involving about 8 wires, including what are called ‘travelers.’ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multiwa...

Travelers carry current to a second switch in the system—say you want to be able to turn on the same set of lights from two widely separated switches, at opposite ends of the kitchen.

Well, after a great deal of pretzeling and misery—the problem lies in a broken wire. And we now have an on-off from either end of the kitchen, in a switch plate that also serves a fan and used to serve an overhead light. Now we have sleek in-ceiling lights in place of the old fluorescent fixture with the broken wire, and the kitchen is acquiring color — more paint—and light. Lots of it.

Meanwhile the city has decided (by throwing darts at a board, I think) to repair certain east-west streets in our 2 mile section, at random intervals, and to also lane-restrict some repair work in alternate lanes on the north-south arterials, and if you think you have successfully escaped those, up on the east-west arterial, they have blocked the left lane without warning people to get over soon enough, which results in traffic lines piling up blocking off people who have just escaped the east-west restrictions crossing the likewise bollixed-up north-south arterials.

Can you say—city traffic management and our broken wiring system do seem to have a lot in common. I hope by tomorrow it too may have found a resolution, as we did by replacing one 15′ length of house wiring.

His catness, AKA the Night Fury, has taken up residence in the kitchen at night…

He views with felinest dissspleasure the removal of the cabinetsss and the ffflloorrr…

His food is in another room, but if you go in there in the small hours of the night, you will find him parked in the center walkway, to be sure nothing else leaves and the thieves do not make off with us all…

So I start the day on a mission…

Get another can of salmon paint from Benjamin Moore, a can of Vintage Apricot from Ace, get mouse eliminator for the garage (they’re back!) and food for stirfry, plus pick up the T-molding for the thresholds from United Flooring.

I head for the grocery, and am greeted by a dark store—and people with flashlights. Power is out. Apparently somebody hit a power pole, bad news for them and everybody in blocks and blocks. All the freezer and cold counters are wrapped in plastic, they’re STILL out of the bacon I want, and the vegetables are in an area remote from windows, where flashlights are the rule. Just as I finish veggie shopping, we get lights back, and I get bean sprouts, which have been drawn back for protection in the cold -locker.

On to Ace—and they’ve suffered the same, ditto flashlights—though four blocks on. Then I try to get to Benjamin Moore store, and Cyber Sally informs me there are two in British Columbia. Hello? I happen to know there is one somewhere south of me, about 10 blocks. So a phone call to Jane (I knew this would be a day, so I actually charged my cell phone) turned up the addy, and I got that. Then on to the flooring people, where we do have one of the orders, but the other will arrive in the afternoon.

Back home, we are getting wired—the ceiling, that is. I have been coughing for weeks because of the dust from mudding, but I think we are approaching the end of that. Then there is the issue of my lost glasses, which are being replaced, but I don’t have them yet, so work is a little difficult.

We can begin to see light at the end of the kitchen…but the cabinets will be the last thing to arrive. Life is a lot easier now that we have water in the kitchen, however, and I can cook.

Adventures in paint…

As in—shades of adobe. Which (a light version) is what the kitchen is. After looking through every paint chip in Spokane, we settled on a color from Benjamin Moore, which went perfectly with the cabinets we are not now getting.

By sheer luck and the fact we had to match other things, it still does go well with the other cabinets we ARE getting.

But—we need a lighter shade to go with it. We picked out a color called ‘soft music’ —which on the chip is a sort of apricot. We optimistically bought a gallon of it. When it went on the wall, it was flaming pink. Which is horrid next to adobe. Would it dry closer to color? Nay. It got worse.

So—back I go, to Ace, from whom we had bought this Kensington-Clarke ‘soft music’. They tried again. The mix was still baby bottom pink. I suggested they analyze their own color chip with their color-matching device, and it showed something different than the colors the machine was putting into it. Oh, joy. They tried matching it, but it was a dead dull color still slightly pink. So back I go this time with a painted strip in our MAIN color, and ask them to analyze that and match it. Well, it sort of works. A color called ‘something peach’ sort of goes with it in a lighter way—and so we are testing that on a strip WE are going to take to Lowe’s to compare to the door sample of the cabinets we ordered, to be sure that the minute difference in tones is not going to be godawful…

I am getting very weary of driving to Ace. I am getting even wearier of paint matches that don’t, and they are calling Kensington to tell them that their computer program has a glitch in it on this one color—the one we need. What, in all the paint chips in Spokane, are the odds that we would pick the one color I have EVER seen that far off from what it’s advertised to be? And Adobe is a pure bear to try to match. So we are hoping with two paints of the same brand and base that they WILL go ok with the doors, or we will be back at it again.

And…best-laid plans of mice and men…

Or in this case, the cabinetry, the one thing on which we had based all color and design choices…

Fell out from under us.

Turns out there are some real problems that did not turn up, which we found out at the last moment, quality issues that are a no-go, hidden costs, and various other things we wish we’d known back when.

So on the very day we were set to order cabinets, we have to go looking for a replacement that will fit in with our other choices, some of which are pieces we already have in-house.

This involved, shall we say, a cost overrun, aka, some Alkaseltzer moments. We decided, well, this is once in a lifetime—let’s just do it.

It still looks like a good choice this morning, after a two hour session ordering stuff and figuring out costs. That much we can say. We do love the alternative. But—aagh. As I sit here with no cabinets, a stove that is trully a free-range range (it’s frequently not where it was yesterday, as we work on the floor) and a fridge that is finally in fairly permanent position—no sink, no water, no drain in the kitchen—we hadda do something. It will take 4 to 6 weeks to get the cabinetry in. WE HOPE to make it by Christmas. Right now we only have paths through all the sacks and boxes in the living room…

Cutting floor tiles (vinyl) for closets and pantry…plus holes for water lines and plumbing…

This is where you’re real glad you paid attention in geometry.

Doorways where you have to leave a 3/4″ slot for a threshold are another joy, fitting tile under doorway frames, etc.

The good news is it looks great. And the wall, formerly pinkish, now plays off that grey/rust and reflective tile (slate pattern) and looks a proper salmon, headed toward orange, which will look great with our cabinets.

We are very happy with the flooring. CoreTec(h) is the brand, Empire Slate, which is ‘waterproof,’ or as waterproof as a floor is likely to be. The table saw is my little toy, and yes, I’m careful. There are many ways to get hurt, one of which, I swear, is to use the ‘safety guides’ the manufacturer provides. A, you let the saw power up and sing a steady note before trying to use it, B, you use the metal/measure/guide clamp rail to assure a straight feed. C, if you aren’t using B, you have a pencil line and you use your ears. If the saw whines, you’re wobbling out of true: listen to the saw and keep it singing a single pure note. D: if you do all the above, it’s not likely to buck or kick back, but if it does, don’t reach to steady it—back up, hands off, and just let the lumber fly where it will. F. And if you have to saw something tiny, use a push-block of wood, not your fingers. G. Wear a mask and safety goggles or glasses. Most injuries come from D, F, and G territory, plus uneven ground, crowded setup, not planning the EXIT of your board with plenty of room, poor lighting, and beer. I learned to use this as a kid, and it’s my favorite power tool: I’ve cut with a handsaw, and a table saw is ever so much nicer.

We have the fridge and dishwasher now sitting on new flooring. Only 300 more square feet to go. We have to bring in another batch from the porch to let it assume room temperature before using. [We’ve had it sitting under tarp, on skids to protect it from rain.]

We have painting to go; plus the flooring; then roof vent and ducting, wiring for lights; then we start thinking about cabinets, countertop, and backsplash orders. Countertop can’t be ordered (measurements) before the cabinets are all in; ditto the backsplash. We have the sink; we have the faucet on order; and we’re now beginning to see the kitchen we’ve planned starting to have floor color, wall color, and such, with appliances moving into place where they will fit.

Progress on the remodel

The floor is ready to be re-floored. The ceiling is painted except for some cleanup and the bit where Scott (our carpenter) is ready to remove the old vent fan that doesn’t vent; then we are going to install 3-4 recessed lights, and also move the ceiling fan over to center in the dining nook created by the addition (midway) of the broom closet and gadget storage. There will be a light in that, too. We are also asking for a fan light installation in the living room near the fireplace. Jane’s evening spot is in the heart of darkness at that end, and she wants light.

We’re going to CFL floods for the lighting, low power and a lot of light.

Then we finish the walls at least in the kitchen area, and cabinets start happening, sink side first. A vent will have to be cut in the roof, and the microwave and its cabinet installed, then the pot/pan cabinet, the fridge garage, and a cabinet turned into rolling storage—the area near the range is right next the basement stairs, and we want that last cabinet to roll out of the way, if we need to move large things into or out of the basement. The sink side will include a desk and chair, which will also have a counter, and make a work surface for sitdown things such as cookie-creation.

We will not actually have a sink until the cabinets go on: I am getting a hot water tank for undersink, to deliver truly hot water. And then the backsplash will go on, which is combo ceramic and glass tile in copper and grey.

Still camping out. No sink. Water from the tub…

Our sink arrived. The poor UPS guy had to schlep what’s labeled ‘team carry’ pkg up two sets of steps.

We have much of the ceiling painted. Some of the walls. We have the broom closet mostly built.

We are gaining weight from fast food and from the fact I’m cooking in a microwave mostly.

We have yet to lay the floor or finish the walls and have no cabinets or sink. Spaghetti water gets emptied into the tub drain.

Food prep area is, oh, about 2×2, meaning the top of the range. Or 8″x8″ if near the coffee pot.

Now orderable—Book of Swords, Gardner Dozois, editor.

I have a story in it: each of us was to choose a famous sword and write a short story based on it. Mine was Hrunting, from the Beowulf epic.

I think it’s a pretty darned good story.

I promised you an account of the eclipse…

I’d studied the weather forecasts for two weeks trying to decide on Oregon, Casper WY or Idaho Falls…and best promises seemed for Idaho.

But hotels were pricing up to a thousand a night in the area.

No way. I priced a Motel 6 in Butte, MT, and yep, about 50 a night. So we went to Butte, ordered pizza; but as related elsewhere, there was something funny about the room—and this motel was packed. Shu in particular was upset. The bedframe was broken and crackled alarmingly when either of us moved. So we tossed the mattress in the floor and were much more comfortable, except Sei found a way under the bedframe. So we’re up at 5 am trying to find Sei, finally get the cats into the car, and Shu burrows under the driver’s side seat, so I have to haul him out, and have to do it with the door shut, lest he bolt off into the dark (he’s black) and get lost in a strange city. THis is where I got bit, and we were so stubborn I didn’t let him go, he didn’t let me go, and we fussed at each other over the extraction of his teeth from my arm and him from the seat bottom.

With that ironed out, we were underway — forest fires had begun to haze the area, and we were a bit worried. But on we went, toward Rexburg, about 20 miles north of Idaho Falls, which would have the longest totality. We looked for a spot to park, and most places were charging 20.00 just to park there, even out in the country, but after getting our tee-shirts (we had to) we went looking for a place to park, and found a mostly ignored dirt road which led to some sort of governmental land, where 2 other cars were parked in a nook in the sagebrush…

They were congenial folk. We set up to wait—sagebrush is very pungent, let me tell you. And we wouldn’t be able to see the leaf-effect of the eclipse in this brush, but we had our spot.

We settled to wait, and had our eclipse glasses—and the smoke had not followed us. The sky was perfectly clear, and our little hill was a great spot.

The eclipse advanced from the northeast corner of the disc, and we could watch it intermittently with the glasses, just checking on it—because it’s still very strong light; and the dark advanced across the solar disc until halfway before we could really see any profound effect in the light.

But after that night began to fall, in the diminishing of the light—sort of like the sunlight on Mars, at the last. And yet there was still warmth, from the faintest, faintest sliver of sun left. It went out, and the diamond ring effect burst out, giving us that momentary flash, then the ring of the corona distinct and white.

Looking around, there was sunset 360 degrees round about, a wind began to blow, in the cooling of the air, and the crickets began to sing. It was only a couple of minutes, but one could be intensely aware that two giant forces were doing a kind of minuet—regardless of us or any force on earth.

Then the diamond ring flash from the opposite side announced that the sun was coming back, and we immediately felt the warmth, just from a tiny sliver.

We broke out Champagne for the occasion, and shared it with the other two families present, celebrated the retreat of the great Dragon that devours the Sun, and went our ways.

The cats slept through it all.

We entered what was surely a nationwide traffic jam, moving at a steady 11 mph all the way to Idaho Falls—we stopped for lunch, in the theory it might break up—ha!

It kept on. There was no avoiding it. We proceeded for the next hundred miles at 11 mph, all the way to the south, near the Utah border, with no greater speed. There was at least one fenderbender—hotels we called (getting the numbers from the GPS) were still jacking prices, and the cheapest was 200 a night. We kept driving. So did most everybody but the RVs, which were setting up in rest areas, and on we drove into the dark.

We were getting entirely punchy and on the verge of pulling off to sleep in the car, when I found a hotel in Malad, ID, which had a room left at a reasonable 50.00. Sold! We declared we were taking it and began plotting a course for Malad.

It’s a tiny town—and a kind of a rundown looking motel, which didn’t take cats, but our promise to leave them in the car (where they would have been ok, with food, water, and litter) touched the soft spot in the motel manager, who installed us AND the cats in a very comfy room with good ac, so comfy we ended up staying there 3 more days, until time to drive to Bubonicon (yep, named for the plague) in Albuquerque. Where we met Paula and Michael and Serge and Sue…

Meanwhile I’d treated my arm with Epsom Salts and Hydrogen Peroxide from the store across the street…and while our cats did no damage, I ruined a washcloth. The doc sketched a 3-4″ swelling on my arm and prescribed Doxycycline, which means no dairy and no sunlight while on the med—the ink line came off on the washcloth I was using for a commpress, so we bought a pack of 4 washcloths across the street (similar quality if not identical) and saved our rep. It was such a comfy room we engaged it for our return trip, and it is now on our list of places to stop.

The arm is fine now.

Shu is quite sorry. He spent several days being super-nice.

More about trip next post or so.