matociquala: (bear by san)

  1. Discover burned out microwave light

  2. Fuck around for two months

  3. Get screwdriver, remove light cover

  4. Remove burnt out light

  5. Discover no appropriate lightbulbs in house

  6. Order lightbulbs

  7. Leave light cover and screw on counter for four days

  8. Open package of ordered lights

  9. Install light

  10. Discover cover is greasy.

  11. Set screw down on gray and black granite counter

  12. Wash cover

  13. Put cover on light

  14. Cannot find screw

  15. Cannot find screw

  16. Cannot find screw

  17. Cannot find screw

  18. Go to toolshed, get thing of random screws

  19. Try similar size screws

  20. Find one that nearly fits

  21. Install light cover

  22. Take care of other household tasks

  23. Tell scott_lynch funny screw story when he gets up

  24. Sit down to tell internet funny screw story on laptop at kitchen counter

  25. Spot missing screw ten inches away on countertop

Yes, my counter needed cleaning. It was on the list. 
matociquala: (bear by san)
The adventure of a lifetime! with squirrels.

(reposted from Patreon)

This is Ace. Ace is a dog, fondly known on the internets as the Giant Ridiculous Dog.

He's a Briard, which is a French shepherd breed.

Ace loves a few things in life: walks, cheese, car rides, carrying stuffies around the house, herding sheep, his soccer ball, and chasing squirrels. He's had a vendetta against all squirreldom since one bounced an acorn off his head back in 2009.

He has not forgotten.

Today, as we were going outside to play some kickball in the fresh snow, Ace ran over to the large lilac bush that dominates our dooryard. He had located a miscreant squirrel lurking in the bush--no doubt calculating how to get to the bird feeder on the porch roof, which is what squirrels spend 95% of their processing power on.

The squirrel, who was safely high in the rather large bush, made an extremely poor life choice. It decided to jump down and run for it.

The reason this was such a poor life choice is that, as you can see, there is approximately one squerrel's depth of snow on the ground currently.

The pursuit was on! My own little patch of BBC, with the David Attenborough replaced by me yelling at the dog to "Leave it!" at the top of my lungs while lunging after him, the squirrel floundering through five inch drifts, and the dog--soccer ball still in his mouth!--in hot if slidy pursuit.

Spoiler, the squirrel lived to pass its poor judgment on to its offspring.

The fluffy little rodent made it to the driveway that our semi-feral plow guy (more on him later) had plowed not five minutes before, and finally got some acceleration as it headed for the pine trees on the other side. The dog tripped on the berm the semi-feral plow guy had left at the edge of the asphalt, and tripped... soccer ball still in his mouth.

And I caught up with him a half-second later.

Then we had to play a game where he checked EVERY SINGLE BUSH on the property for rodents before he'd agree to come play kickball, which was the original purpose of the exercise.

So about that plow guy. He sort of came with the house, you see. The previous owners opined that he was somewhat erratic, but they weren't sure how to make him stop. Or even get him to reliably cash checks for his services.

Sometimes he does a great job. Sometimes he plows about half the driveway and wanders off. He's nice, though, and when you basically live in an episode of Newhart, you kind of have to roll with the punches and accept the hand you're dealt.
matociquala: (criminal minds bad shirt brigade)
In keeping with everything else about this 112-year-old house, putting the window screens in is three times harder than it needs to be--and they're even replacement windows (thank cod) not wood framed ones.

Specifically, I just spent a fruitful hour prying the full-height storms off the outside of the house (they're the kind you take off with a screwdriver), dealing with petrified weather stripping, painted-in frames, and the terrifying moment when this five-foot-tall window finally comes free and is teetering over your head.


But now I can open my windows now.

And I am feeling much better.
matociquala: (lion in winter broken because you're bri)
Today, I have conformed to Yankee stereotype and mended a stone wall. I didn't take a before picture, but suffice it to say that it was slumping, and on the verge of total collapse.

Here is the "after" photo:
2011 11 27 004

The mended bit is on the right, in shadow. As you can see, the original wall-builder subscribed to the "stacking" method of wall construction, whereas I am a "wedger." This was in part necessary because the "stacked" wall is three feet thick, and the two external stacked courses contain a heap of haphazardly piled rocks between them, so once the stacked course failed, the interior heap started to collapse as well. So I used big, flat rocks placed sideways for containment, and wedged the heck out of the bottom.

The wall on the other side of the yard needs mending too, but I think I might do that tomorrow.

At least I'm getting plenty of exercise.
matociquala: (criminal minds garcia plan b)
Today, [ profile] thecoughlin and I converted this:

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 001

Into THIS!

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 016

As you can see from the state of disrepair of the original plaster and lath ceiling, and the fact that somebody chunked a whole bunch of cheap wallboard up over it at sometime in the 1970s or 1980s, this is not the first time this issue has occurred.

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 008

Ebear the Headless Ceiling Repair Gunner.... ([ profile] thecoughlin down below, trying not to inhale too many mouse turds...)

It turns out that I was right: the problem was the overflow drain, and in particular the fact that the gasket around it had petrified.

The culprit:

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 026

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 024

But hey, I got to tear down a ceiling today, and get a face full of mouse shit and old sawdust and bent nails (we dug out a pretty substantial mouse nest in the process). Other trophies recovered from the space under the tub include a petrified bottle of Nair, some cleaning fluids, and a certain number of (waterlogged) feminine hygiene products (in original wrapper and otherwise pristine condition).

And a piece of mouse artwork:

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 029

In conclusion: Nair if you dare wear eye protection!

2011 11 05 Pantry ceiling 007
matociquala: (new england bare trees winter manchester)
According to my mother, there are still nearly half a million people without power--she wasn't sure if that was in Southern New England, or the whole region. It's getting hard to tell the nor'easter damage from the hurricane damage from the tornado damage around here--just how long has that tree been down?

The roads are mostly clear, though there are shattered telephone poles and wires everywhere. The gorgeous old magnolia at my old place is a total loss--down all over the driveway, completely destroyed. It's not the only one.

We had a totally unrelated incident last night. Apparently the tub leaks... which I found out around midnight last night when I went downstairs to the pantry and found water dripping through the ceiling. So this week's extravaganza is getting that dried out, and then Saturday we'll probably pull down the ruined ceiling panel and see what exploded. Ah, the simple joys of homeownership.

At least I didn't turn on the ceiling light and electrocute myself. That would have been embarrassing.

And now I have to go do yoga and write a lot, punctuated by taking the dog for a walk. Or two, since my new town is so tiny that one lap around the outside is only about two miles.

March 2017



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