Welcome Home!

Considering that what's we talked about doing if the City didn't approve our variance, I figure that's as good a way to start this new blog as any. And since most of you know what 'Welcome Home!" refers too, you'll understand why we were unsure how to feel when we got the okay from the City to continue along.  House renovation? or DVC?

DVC would have been nice, but in the end, this will be where we live until it's time to pack it in for the final big trip, so we may as well make this place the way we want it to be; to put our stamp on it and call it ours.  And so we will.

Eventually.

Maybe.

If I can ever get into the ground to start excavating and drilling for piles.

You see, I had my sewer and water contractor by on Friday to scan and locate my water line that runs from the front yard, under the house, and all the way back to the utility room in the far south west corner back there, where it comes through the floor and where we read the water meter.  Grant brought his hi-tech looking scanner wand and the transmitter that gets clipped to the closest hose bib or spigot - in our case we have one just around the front corner by the cedar there, no, the other way, yeah, that way, around the corner, and down just a bit, can't miss it.

He started out at the curb-stop - the City's circular brass valve that lives just under the grass in the front yard with the large bolt-like fitting in the centre - you've seen them before:

This one is now blue, no longer brass, with a red ring around it. 

No, it doesn't have an STD. That's just how it is these days.

and then, like some voodoo magician, he waved his scanner wand thing back and forth and it emitted a tone that changed pitch as he passed over the water line buried some 8 feet or so below.  The higher the pitch, the closer he location of the scanner to the buried copper line, and on the scanner there's a screen that also registers depth of signal, so he can tell approximately how deep the line is buried.

This is Grant.  He's too tall for this job. My back hurt watching him.

So back and forth he went, and every so often he'd spray a mark of blue paint to track his progress.  After about 5 minutes or so here's what he left behind:

A blue line that seems to curve right into my grade beam layout...

Like a good professional, Grant couldn't or wouldn't be held to anything he had laid out - the onus is on me to verify actual locations within 3 feet ON EITHER SIDE OF THE LINE! 

WTF?

A 6 foot swath?  I could have done that! And I didn't need a fancy scanner and transmitter!  I know where the line starts - its back at that blue and red target thingy back there, and it runs more or less straight to where it pops through the basement concrete floor in the utility room way back there! Hell, if I'd had known I needed to stay 3 feet off that line...

ah, nevermind.

it's done.  we have a line.  And so what if Grant won't lay his credibility on the line? (pun intended) The reality is we probably couldn't hit the water or sewer line with a 10 foot pole if we tried.

Actually we will try - but it will be a 20' drill bit, not a 10' pole - and if we hit the water line it will be like Old Faithful, and if we hit the sewer line, well, let's just say the shit's gonna hit something, and it won't be a fan...

Speaking of sewer line, I measured from the clean out inside the basement this morning, and it should be coming under the basement foundation almost 5 feet from the corner of the house.  And it should be buried in the same trench as the water line...

Grant's location line

Grant's line is not 5' from the corner - it looks like its coming around the corner...

sigh.

Let's find a contractor with one of those hydro-vac trucks that shoots a big jet of high pressure water into the ground to make a hole, then uses a gigantic vacuum on the back of the rig to suck up the mud.  

Hey!  Where's Ken when you need him?

A Bunch of Little Things

It's been a mixed bag of late-Spring weather this past week or so - days that seemed much like summer gave way to rolling thunderstorms that lit up the evening sky with purples and greens and left behind streets littered with branches and then we got days of steady dreary rains - the kind we certainly do not need as swollen rivers are still an issue and bloated beaches have claimed the cottages and houses that line their shores.  But it all serves the greater purpose I suppose, as the lilacs out front can attest, as they shot up at least two feet with the mixed blessing that is our weather.

We spent last weekend in the brutal summer heat washing and sanding and staining the deck, and it looks better than new - well, maybe not quite that good, but it's certainly better than what it was before the back breaking work.  It's now a cafe au lait type of colour, and not the aging silver-grey that those green pressure-treated deck boards turn when you leave them to their own devices.  I made up a pair of crumbles with the rhubarb I picked - one with blueberries, the other with strawberries, and I'm not sure which was better - if I had to choose I think I'd go with the blueberries though it's not fair to force one into such dilemmas.  I'm not sure you can find a more refreshing dessert after a days work than a rhubarb crumble with a scoop of vanilla ice cream melting through its golden crusted toppings.  But if you'd like to share a recipe, I'm sure I'd be up for the challenge!

Of course the boy was no where to be seen during the deck renewal process - and I can't really blame him - it's not exactly kid-friendly work, nor is the job of sufficient size to warrant an extra set of complaining hands.  Though to his credit he did help me dispose of half the pile of branches as I fed them into the hopper of the yard shredder.  Honestly that machine scares the hell out of me - maybe I'm a bit more cautious after having had the table saw and my middle finger become so well acquainted - but still, no God-fearing person in their right mind would knowingly feed branches into a hopper that suddenly latches onto the woody stem and swiftly swirls it around and around while the hidden spinning knives inside its belly mince the shards into bite size wood bits and deposits them at its feet.

That's just wrong.  Or incredibly cool if you're twelve. I think he was disappointed I wouldn't let him feed the beast. Or over heated. Or both.  He asked if he could get a glass of water.  That was the last I saw of him all afternoon...

I called the City on Thursday, wondering if our building permit was stuck in the bureaucratic vortex of the Planning Department downtown, like so many of my commercial ones, and Joanne answered and asked me if I had a sixth sense, because it had just arrived on her desk from upstairs! I told her I had a feeling it was ready - and she filled me in on the outstanding balance and I said I'd be down before 4:30 to pick it up.  She called back a few minutes later to say that she couldn't locate the plans that were to accompany the permit - but if I wanted I could still get the permit and pay for it.  I thanked her for the heads-up and said I'd be down late Thursday or first thing Friday.  It's nice to have the level of personal service I get when I deal with the folks in the Planning Department - I know many of them by name, and some, like Joanne who it turns out is the next door neighbour to a family relation, have become like family themselves, and we share stories when we meet and catch up while I wait for my appointments with the permit techs.  On our way down to get the permit she called once more to say she had found the missing plans, and when I picked everything up from her, I thanked her for her help, and she laughed as she shared the spectacle of a great deal of the office staff buzzing around looking for "Reid's Plans"  I'm not sure many people have had that kind of personal attention from this staff - but I'm very grateful for it.

So it's all systems go for the renovation now - time to book the trades and verify the window and door orders; revisit the plans and make sure the elevations and layouts are going to work as I designed them so many months ago.  This past Saturday was spent in the yard with a string line, measuring tape, marking paint, flagging tape, a bundle of lath for stakes and my copy of the plans - already folded and worn and marked up the way a set of blueprints should be. So far so good. I'll post soon with the beginning pics.

Sunday was Father's Day, and around here that also means its Manitoba Marathon Day - so it was an early rise and shine for 2 of us - Karen and I registered in the 10K this year - due to her less than hoped for performance at last year's half marathon where she hit the wall at mile 7; and my first ever instance of plantar fasciitis a few months ago - we decided that while we maybe couldn't run, we certainly could walk, and so we joined 14000 other runners and walkers and helped make the day another amazing success!  Kudos to the amazing army of volunteers who make the event such a fun and fantastic way to spend Father's Day. In keeping with our family tradition - we returned home and woke the boy and went out for breakfast and enjoyed the pleasure of his company.

Tonight after dinner we watched some old trip video of our first visit to Orlando back in 2001. I can't believe the mini-man was ever that small, or that cute!    It was so much fun revisiting those days: our first ever visit to the Magic Kingdom with him in his stroller, having to carry him and hold him during the afternoon parade; the way his face lit up at all the magic and make believe around him (and yeah, us too!) and it was so tremendously satisfying to see the deep bonds he shared with us back then - the ones we take for granted these days in the midst of teenagerdom and a never-ending growth spurt, but which we know will always reside there, in part because of the times we've shared together and the decisions we've consciously made to strengthen those bonds important to us all.  He watched the 2 1/2 year old him with a mix of pride and embarrassment (we've all been there before) and allowed his mother to miss that part of him that she's lost forever but which she keeps alive in her heart, and when she needed a hug he was there to give it to her.

You sometimes wonder during weeks like these, where so many things are happening at once, whether anything you're doing is really making a difference.  Is spending a Saturday staining the deck or weeding the flowers or shredding trees really what we should be doing, or could we be doing something more worthy with our time? Is this renovation going to take us to where we need to be, or are we just chasing our tails trying to capture something eluding us?  Before tonight I don't know that I could have told you, but after I sat out by the fire and listened to the quiet evening and watched the family of blue jays playing together through the treetops, I thought about that little boy in the video, holding hands with his mommy as they played in the resort pool with the "Big Water" fountains shooting up to shrieks of pure delight, as they turn and wave to "Daddy" and the video camera, his entire face lit up in one gigantic genuine smile,   everything is exactly how it's supposed to be, and I wouldn't change one little thing.

Have a great week!