House Remodel!

For the last few months, we've been preparing for our house remodel. It's taken so long to get to here that it can hardly seem possible that we've overcome all the obstacles: party sewer lines, shared water mains, choosing an architect, figuring out financing. Figuring out financing AGAIN.

So many things!

Day one actually happened two weeks ago. I'd meant to post on this blog all our progress periodically, but, well, life gets in the way!

The story so far:

The contractor has cut out square holes in the concrete in the basement and dug down in preparation for the footings that will need to be put in in order to strenghten our supports, to hold up our bigger upper story. The back deck has been torn down and the unexpected concrete steps that emerged from under it has been jackhammered away. The contractor cut into some plumbing in the basement (of course, it's impossible to tell what's under there until you cut it away) that causes our kitchen sink to drain into a hole in the basement, rendering our kitchen sink and dishwasher unusable til it's resolved.

Sigh.

I will be grateful when it's done! It should be fine tomorrow...

Above is our current upstairs with holes cut in so the contractor could reach the utility chimney, which is coming down (we're switching to a side-venting furnace).

Tad and I have been working hard the last few weeks to move all the stuff out of the upstairs and our closets so that the contractor can get in and do what he needs to do...

Phew!

More to come.

A visit to Foster Farms

Philip Foster Farms, that is: http://www.philipfosterfarm.com/

The boys started asking if I could chaperone months ago. My initial understanding was that we were visiting a chicken factory. I was pretty sure that after that we would never eat chicken again.

Philip Foster Farm, though, is a historical site near Estacada. The kids were split up into smaller groups and we visited station after station, grinding corn, loading up a wagon, washing clothes, building a log cabin and more. The kids loved it. You can see Colin waiting his turn to grind corn, above.

I had a spirited group of seven boys and three girls. One boy in particular was... well.... spirited. The blacksmith was so annoyed at his lack of manners and inability to stop doing things that he'd been told that he simply refused to talk for long stretches. Ack.

By the end of the tour, I was pretty tired of taking this child aside and having stern words with him and trying to not turn into a total witch.

At lunch, we regrouped with the other students and chaperones, one of whom was Tad. He seemed surprised that I'd been stuck with a group all on my own. By contrast, his group had a total of four adults squiring around a much more manageable group of eight kids.

!!!!

O Possum!

Colin and Ethan love digging holes. I think they might just like an excuse to get really, really dirty.

They spent much of Saturday afternoon digging a hole that they claimed would trap Joey, the cat.

On Sunday morning, Ethan ran out to see what they might have caught in the trap. Imagine my surprise when I heard him shouting that he'd caught a baby possum!



Initially, we put some sticks into the hole and left it to see if it would climb out on its own, but it didn't.

We got the critter into a container.



In the meantime, we'd raised enough of a ruckus to alert all the neighbors, one of whom shared some advice on who to call for advice on what to do with it.

Dove Lewis was kind enough to refer me to the Audubon Society, who suggested that we release the baby near where we'd found it at dusk, to increase its chances of being found by mama. Interesting fun fact: she advised me to give it water and fruit-flavored yogurt.

She also affirmed to me that I hadn't simply grown possum mommy goggles and that it really was as cute as I was imagining it.

Apparently, they used to nurse baby possums (but no longer did it) and that the staff really enjoyed doing this. She gave me the okay to handle it, but perhaps with a towel for protection.

Look at that cute thing!

That evening, we gathered up all the neighborhood kids and carefully tipped the possum out of its box. Imagine the squeals of a half dozen little neighborhood girls: "How cuuuuute!!!" (yes, my thoughts exactly)

Inwardly, I hummed the tune to Born Free as we all watched the baby possum realize that it was now free and scamper away.

Run for the Arts

Last week, in iffy weather, the boys ran for Run for the Arts. It's an annual event where they beg friends, family and neighbors to sponsor them in this fundraiser.

The fundraiser raises money to get arts exposure for children. Remember the days when we were young and music and art was just something you took for granted? It's not that way any more! It's hard for the schools just to get the basics covered, let alone "frills" like art and music! Our school has to fundraise all year round to pay for things like our full-time librarian, a luxury that many schools cannot afford.

!!!!

In any case, the boys were jazzed to have a chance to make a little difference at the school, to have a part in bringing in some of the programs that they enjoy.

They love assembly, which is livened up with performances by live performances and artists.

Every year, the third graders put on The Portland Play, a musical that tells the story of Portland, from the time of the Native Americans, through Lewis and Clark to settlement and current day -- every child is given a speaking part, a solo or another little moment in the spotlight. The boys still talk about that play -- they loved it so much.

Each kid gets 30 minutes to run as many laps as they can. Both boys ran 11 laps. At a quarter mile per lap, that means that they ran just shy of three miles each. Not bad for a kid with short legs!

They finished tired and very happy and proud and certainly well-deserving of the popsicles that were handed round.

A great program and a very good cause.

Easter Day

We had a terrific Easter Day. We invited the in-laws in for Easter dinner:

It was yummy (is that okay to say myself?)! Prime rib, lovely salad, decadent potatoes, oven-roasted brussels sprouts and yorkshire pudding:

I was pretty pleased with the yorkshire pudding. Having read all the "All Creature Great and Small" books, loads of Agatha Christie and gobs of other British literature, I've always been curious about it. After reading the Joy of Cooking recipe, I was surprised to find that it's basically a German pancake, but without the sweet stuff.

It was pretty yummy!

The day's activities included egg dyeing:

And, later on, a neighborhood egg hunt:

I'd write about the dessert (THREE kinds! Almond macaroons, eclairs and flan!) but I'm feeling too bloated...

Hoping for Snow

So a friend posted a note on Facebook, mentioning that she'd told her daughter that if you wore your pajamas inside out, it would make it snow.

The boys have been all over this, as you can see (what you can't see are the underpants, carefully turned inside out as well). We even got our cute neighbor girls on the bandwagon -- it might just be a matter of telling enough people to get some critical mass to make it actually happen.

Seriously. Bad. Car. Karma.

Okay, I thought I was done with the car issues with the last traumatic post, but sadly no!

It's relatively minor, compared to getting cars stolen and sideswiped, but...

Tad reported the newly-found OLD car (which we'd signed away possession and title to the insurance company, dutifully sending them all our keys) to the insurance company, giving them the address that it was at. They asked him to notify the police department.

When he did, they sent a tow truck to tow the car away, which puzzled the agent that the insurance company had sent out, who called Tad, who, of course, had no idea that the police had acted so quickly.

The impound lot called Tad, wanting him to pick up our car that had been towed away. Tad explained that it was no longer our car, though the insurance company had not yet had time to transfer the registration, so as far as the police were concerned, it was our car and therefore our responsibility to come and get.

Now, mind you, our experience with the Portland Police Department had, up to this time, been stellar -- in fact the officer who took down my report the first time my car was stolen actually had located it for me on his own accord.

This particular officer, though, got a bit cranky with Tad as he couldn't keep up with the chain of events.

Eventually, though, the insurance company talked Tad through the procedure to call the impound lot and officially release the automobile to the insurance company.

After that, my faithful green Honda disappeared from our lives altogether.

Meanwhile, I finally received the title for the new car and trotted down to the DMV only to discover that the paperwork that the seller and I had worked on wasn't going to work. The DMV clerk informed me that I would have to return to the original seller and get him to fill out more paperwork.

"But he's in Bangkok!" I told her. No pity.

Luckily, I had his email address and he provided me his address to mail a package off to. Haven't received it back yet, but I'm ever hopeful. In the meantime, I guess the car's not really yet officially registered to me yet.

Then last week, someone yanked the emblem off the back of the new car.

Dang!

I'm knocking on wood that we are DONE with this all!