A while back Harry and I resolved to post about movies we saw. We haven't, largely because we don't go out to the movies much - there is so depressingly little to lure us out and away from evenings of Netflix and HGTV. We do belong to the Bryn Mawr Film Institute, which offers interesting things that don't get shown at the cineplexes. . .
We did recently see there a film I completely adored: I Am Love It was one of those rare movies that had me at the first image, and held me tight until the credits finished rolling. It's lush and gorgeous visually and provides the kind of voyeurism into how the rich, foreign and beautiful people live that underlay my (adolescent) love for movies (think Titanic), but is written and directed in a way that speaks to my adult Film Buff(The Sorrow and the Pity). It's intelligent, complicated and sexy, and even though I agreed with Harry on the way home that several of the actions that turn the plot were not believably motivated (one character, when (gently) informed of his mother's infidelity with his friend, falls and fatally cracks his skull) it had nothing to do with the experience of watching it. I didn't even think "Oh, sure!" until it was over.
I don't think Harry liked it as much as I did, but both of us want to see it again.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Sweat Equity Kitchen Project - Posted by Harry
After we had moved into our new house in late April, Sally discovered a small overlooked detail that we'd failed to notice on an initial viewing, a home inspection and a pre-closing walk through --- no dishwasher! How could we have possibly missed such an important appliance? It may have been too late for hindsight or regret, but we weren't about to spend our "golden years" slaving over a sink and getting "dishpan hands" Remember that ad campaign? Maybe not because no one has dishpan hands anymore. EVERYONE has a dishwasher.
So we decided we would buy and install a dishwasher ourselves and partially remake our kitchen on the cheap: a DIY project that entailed ripping out our old and hideous formica counter top and sink, and replacing with new butcher block counter, new stainless steel double sink and fixtures. Although Sally and I had done many other home projects before, including gutting rooms and removing walls and other structural challenges, we had never specifically done a new kitchen counter, but we agreed the project and scope of work seemed within our skills and energy. It seemed like something we could do.
Sally got us the dishwasher and sink on line for a combined cost of about $150 and the sink fixtures came from Home Depot. At Ikea we ordered an 8-ft and a 4-ft birch counter top. We got the 4 foot piece, but after 2 weeks of waiting for our 8 foot piece and getting further aggravated with washing dishes in 9-degree heat, we decided to buy two more 4 foot pieces of counter top and at least get our project underway.
Sally has been watching a lot of HGTV and DIY channel. She was ready. But last Friday afternoon and Saturday morning Sally had corrective laser eye surgery, and then Saturday morning/afternoon we picked up the two additional counter tops at Ikea. So our kitchen project did not really begin until Sunday morning. We estimated one day for the job. The job was pretty much finished by Tuesday afternoon when the plumber left with a check for 285 dollars.
I'm not going to bore you with all the details of our project, but just give you a sense of our overall mood, our setbacks and triumphs. After all, renovations and projects on HGTV are always sped up, not in real time, and most significant obstacles, like unplanned for trips to get hardware, tools or lumber, Wawa lunches, and especially tempers, are glossed over on those shows. Sally and I --- sans designer and contractor --- are the real world, either because we have confidence in ourselves or we lack the $$$ or both.
We're also talking mid-July here. Temperatures Sunday and Monday were well in '90s.
The first obstacle on Sunday morning was shutting off the water line to the kitchen sink. This should have been a no-brainer because the shutoff is usually under the sink, but it wasn't so I needed to trace the valve in the basement water pipes. Once I was able to locate I could shut off the Hot but not the Cold. Impossible. We then needed to turn off the Main which of course removed our shower and toilet and everything else. Then we tore out the kitchen counter and sink and whatever cabinetry got in the way. Somewhere following this dirty and sweaty labor, I had to drop off my son at the train station. He skedaddled.
Next came the counter top. Sally and I did a fine job of cleaning and getting everything level and we traced the sink with a template. However, the somewhat thick birch would not cut with my jig saw which is what a rep. at Home Depot said would work (from herein I will refer to "Home Depot" as "HD" not to be confused with the innovative early 20th century symbolist-modernist poet, Hilda Doolittle.
HD Trip Number 1 (about 4pm): PVC plumbing and double sink drains and other sundries. app. $100.
Did I mention it was hot and we hadn't eaten and we had no running water?
HD Trip Number 2 (about 6pm): This was to buy what I belived would be a bigger and better jigsaw (about $30.)
OK, we were still unable to cut the joined counter tops. Jigsaw blades were either bending or breaking. Hey, we figured we could at least reconnect the water lines and call it a day.
HD Trip Number 3 (6am Monday morning): I finally located an HD rep in the tool section who advised cutting the counter top "very carefully" with a circular saw. I returned home and the rest of the morning was devoted to doing this. We were making progress.
There were three local hardware trips mixed in with the HD trips.
I installed the drains and part of the fixture Monday afternoon and then got to the plumbing. First of all the main drain pipe cracked --- not a big deal, it could be replaced. The real problem was the Mickey Mouse trap kits I picked up at HD. After our good friend Ken the Plumber installed the sink (and dishwasher drain and lines I might add) I realized that I had needed to purchase contractor grade (not DIY trap) PVC from HD which I would have done but we were running out of time and I had to return to work on Tuesday so we called Ken the Plumber to finish the sink plumbing and dishwasher. I could have finished the sink plumbing myself (not sure about dishwasher having never done one). But TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE. Ken and helper took about 2 - 3 hours to do the job. Figure 2 - 3 times that for me.
And did I mention it was hot?
On Tuesday, after the plumbing was finished, Marnie wired the plug for our dishwasher and I shimmed and mounted later. We are very happy and proud of our dishwasher and countertop :)
I think this project was instructive for the both of us. I came away not feeling we lacked the skills or the desire to do a project (I already knew that, and we can always do the demo and finishing work ourselves and hire contractors when we are pressed for or in a jam or screw something up), but Damn -- we were tired! I just don't have the energy (and occasionally the will) for all that labor. And Sally feels the same way. After all, our combined ages total 120 years. Nonetheless, I still believe we were smart in doing our own contracting and subbing out the plumbing for the kitchen, even if it wound up costing us a little more than planned. But our dream project -- Our Bathroom -- is going to be a different story ;-)
So we decided we would buy and install a dishwasher ourselves and partially remake our kitchen on the cheap: a DIY project that entailed ripping out our old and hideous formica counter top and sink, and replacing with new butcher block counter, new stainless steel double sink and fixtures. Although Sally and I had done many other home projects before, including gutting rooms and removing walls and other structural challenges, we had never specifically done a new kitchen counter, but we agreed the project and scope of work seemed within our skills and energy. It seemed like something we could do.
Sally got us the dishwasher and sink on line for a combined cost of about $150 and the sink fixtures came from Home Depot. At Ikea we ordered an 8-ft and a 4-ft birch counter top. We got the 4 foot piece, but after 2 weeks of waiting for our 8 foot piece and getting further aggravated with washing dishes in 9-degree heat, we decided to buy two more 4 foot pieces of counter top and at least get our project underway.
Sally has been watching a lot of HGTV and DIY channel. She was ready. But last Friday afternoon and Saturday morning Sally had corrective laser eye surgery, and then Saturday morning/afternoon we picked up the two additional counter tops at Ikea. So our kitchen project did not really begin until Sunday morning. We estimated one day for the job. The job was pretty much finished by Tuesday afternoon when the plumber left with a check for 285 dollars.
I'm not going to bore you with all the details of our project, but just give you a sense of our overall mood, our setbacks and triumphs. After all, renovations and projects on HGTV are always sped up, not in real time, and most significant obstacles, like unplanned for trips to get hardware, tools or lumber, Wawa lunches, and especially tempers, are glossed over on those shows. Sally and I --- sans designer and contractor --- are the real world, either because we have confidence in ourselves or we lack the $$$ or both.
We're also talking mid-July here. Temperatures Sunday and Monday were well in '90s.
The first obstacle on Sunday morning was shutting off the water line to the kitchen sink. This should have been a no-brainer because the shutoff is usually under the sink, but it wasn't so I needed to trace the valve in the basement water pipes. Once I was able to locate I could shut off the Hot but not the Cold. Impossible. We then needed to turn off the Main which of course removed our shower and toilet and everything else. Then we tore out the kitchen counter and sink and whatever cabinetry got in the way. Somewhere following this dirty and sweaty labor, I had to drop off my son at the train station. He skedaddled.
Next came the counter top. Sally and I did a fine job of cleaning and getting everything level and we traced the sink with a template. However, the somewhat thick birch would not cut with my jig saw which is what a rep. at Home Depot said would work (from herein I will refer to "Home Depot" as "HD" not to be confused with the innovative early 20th century symbolist-modernist poet, Hilda Doolittle.
HD Trip Number 1 (about 4pm): PVC plumbing and double sink drains and other sundries. app. $100.
Did I mention it was hot and we hadn't eaten and we had no running water?
HD Trip Number 2 (about 6pm): This was to buy what I belived would be a bigger and better jigsaw (about $30.)
OK, we were still unable to cut the joined counter tops. Jigsaw blades were either bending or breaking. Hey, we figured we could at least reconnect the water lines and call it a day.
HD Trip Number 3 (6am Monday morning): I finally located an HD rep in the tool section who advised cutting the counter top "very carefully" with a circular saw. I returned home and the rest of the morning was devoted to doing this. We were making progress.
There were three local hardware trips mixed in with the HD trips.
I installed the drains and part of the fixture Monday afternoon and then got to the plumbing. First of all the main drain pipe cracked --- not a big deal, it could be replaced. The real problem was the Mickey Mouse trap kits I picked up at HD. After our good friend Ken the Plumber installed the sink (and dishwasher drain and lines I might add) I realized that I had needed to purchase contractor grade (not DIY trap) PVC from HD which I would have done but we were running out of time and I had to return to work on Tuesday so we called Ken the Plumber to finish the sink plumbing and dishwasher. I could have finished the sink plumbing myself (not sure about dishwasher having never done one). But TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE. Ken and helper took about 2 - 3 hours to do the job. Figure 2 - 3 times that for me.
And did I mention it was hot?
On Tuesday, after the plumbing was finished, Marnie wired the plug for our dishwasher and I shimmed and mounted later. We are very happy and proud of our dishwasher and countertop :)
I think this project was instructive for the both of us. I came away not feeling we lacked the skills or the desire to do a project (I already knew that, and we can always do the demo and finishing work ourselves and hire contractors when we are pressed for or in a jam or screw something up), but Damn -- we were tired! I just don't have the energy (and occasionally the will) for all that labor. And Sally feels the same way. After all, our combined ages total 120 years. Nonetheless, I still believe we were smart in doing our own contracting and subbing out the plumbing for the kitchen, even if it wound up costing us a little more than planned. But our dream project -- Our Bathroom -- is going to be a different story ;-)
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Semi-Empty Nest
Harry and I have been sharing, if that's the word, our new digs with his son.
Let's call him Tony - for the Latinate genes he inherited from his mother, which give him darkling eyebrows and a overall swarthy mein. ( All of Harry's kids physically favor their Spanish-Italian mom. Harry looks sweetly Irish, a bit pale and gorgeously blue-eyed; those genes got stomped by the dark Sophia Loren-ish appearance of their mother who when he met her was a petite, dark and nervously sultry little thing. . .Sort of like how my Slavic peasant genes were coopted by Ex's Germanic tall and pale persona. . .but I wander.
Back to Tony. Who's been staying in our attic bedroom, ostensibly to look for summer work between his second and third years at college, but actually because ours is the most appealing extra room. Otherwise, there's only his Mom's - near a seashore town with much more seasonal jobs - but it's his Mom's, and I understand she is not shy about getting on his case . . also there is his sister and her Significant Other who are friendly and welcoming, but poor and with not much space.
So it's us, with a new house and a seemingly extra room where he can hang his Grateful Dead Posters and surf the internet in peace.
Duh.
Tony's a good kid, smart and charming. But I worry about him, and I know that Harry does too. It's, what, mid July? and since the end of May all he's done is sleep till one pm, smoke cigarettes (to his credit and my harshness on the subject, on the porch) and skateboard to the occasional job prospect "in the neighborhood," usually returning within fifteen minutes to report that he had gotten an application. That he would fill out - soon, and return - soon. He does this only during the putative work week - weekends he takes time off to hang with his friends.
Harry and I can't be the first parents to notice we have somehow managed to raise kids who aren't the same class we are. I was reared on the cutting edge of rural poverty by crazy people. (Think Trueblood without the vampires or the charm, and not in the south.) Harry's parents were solidly working middle class. We (and all our sibs) arrived at young adulthood understanding that (in my case, thankful that) dependence on "family" was over; and anything gained from that point forward - college, cars, spending money - was up to us. I can't think of single instance when I even considered asking for "help" financial or otherwise from my still very fraught family. Which would have been pointless, in any case, but the point is it did not occur to me. Ditto for Harry. We moved out, got jobs, signed for our own loans, got in trouble, got ourselves out of it. It's what you did when you were old enough legally to "live your own life," to borrow a phrase from my daughter. What she means by this is "I don't have to ask permission to stay out all night, and I don't have to clean my room even if my room is in your house." Harry and I were not unusually together and responsible young folk. We just expected to take charge of our lives when the time came.
So how did it happen that our kids (now all between 20 and 27) seemingly believe in "family money" and expect to be supported in open-ended suburban adolescence - by which I mean they take it more or less for granted that they will be fed, clothed and housed, sent to the dentist, and given tuition, gas and spending money, not to mention cars, until they happen upon a job that will pay rent?
Case in point: my elder daughter, after an expensive art school degree, flirted for over a year with nannying as a profession. Didn't pay much, had zero career potential but it allowed her to spend mornings chasing toddlers around the pool without having to get married or have children first. Harry's elder son spent the summer after his fourth college year parking cars. Okay, there's the rotten economy. And both these two are now in actual jobs. But the point is, both of them (and their siblings) took it for granted they would be taken care of for as long as it took. Coming of age is more about being able to drink legally, than it was a signal of adulthood.
Don't get me wrong, both my girls, and all Harry's kids are all good kids, and we count ourselves lucky in their health and characters and general eventual promise. But the lack of urgency with which they approach taking up the responsibilities of their adult lives startles me every time.
Let's call him Tony - for the Latinate genes he inherited from his mother, which give him darkling eyebrows and a overall swarthy mein. ( All of Harry's kids physically favor their Spanish-Italian mom. Harry looks sweetly Irish, a bit pale and gorgeously blue-eyed; those genes got stomped by the dark Sophia Loren-ish appearance of their mother who when he met her was a petite, dark and nervously sultry little thing. . .Sort of like how my Slavic peasant genes were coopted by Ex's Germanic tall and pale persona. . .but I wander.
Back to Tony. Who's been staying in our attic bedroom, ostensibly to look for summer work between his second and third years at college, but actually because ours is the most appealing extra room. Otherwise, there's only his Mom's - near a seashore town with much more seasonal jobs - but it's his Mom's, and I understand she is not shy about getting on his case . . also there is his sister and her Significant Other who are friendly and welcoming, but poor and with not much space.
So it's us, with a new house and a seemingly extra room where he can hang his Grateful Dead Posters and surf the internet in peace.
Duh.
Tony's a good kid, smart and charming. But I worry about him, and I know that Harry does too. It's, what, mid July? and since the end of May all he's done is sleep till one pm, smoke cigarettes (to his credit and my harshness on the subject, on the porch) and skateboard to the occasional job prospect "in the neighborhood," usually returning within fifteen minutes to report that he had gotten an application. That he would fill out - soon, and return - soon. He does this only during the putative work week - weekends he takes time off to hang with his friends.
Harry and I can't be the first parents to notice we have somehow managed to raise kids who aren't the same class we are. I was reared on the cutting edge of rural poverty by crazy people. (Think Trueblood without the vampires or the charm, and not in the south.) Harry's parents were solidly working middle class. We (and all our sibs) arrived at young adulthood understanding that (in my case, thankful that) dependence on "family" was over; and anything gained from that point forward - college, cars, spending money - was up to us. I can't think of single instance when I even considered asking for "help" financial or otherwise from my still very fraught family. Which would have been pointless, in any case, but the point is it did not occur to me. Ditto for Harry. We moved out, got jobs, signed for our own loans, got in trouble, got ourselves out of it. It's what you did when you were old enough legally to "live your own life," to borrow a phrase from my daughter. What she means by this is "I don't have to ask permission to stay out all night, and I don't have to clean my room even if my room is in your house." Harry and I were not unusually together and responsible young folk. We just expected to take charge of our lives when the time came.
So how did it happen that our kids (now all between 20 and 27) seemingly believe in "family money" and expect to be supported in open-ended suburban adolescence - by which I mean they take it more or less for granted that they will be fed, clothed and housed, sent to the dentist, and given tuition, gas and spending money, not to mention cars, until they happen upon a job that will pay rent?
Case in point: my elder daughter, after an expensive art school degree, flirted for over a year with nannying as a profession. Didn't pay much, had zero career potential but it allowed her to spend mornings chasing toddlers around the pool without having to get married or have children first. Harry's elder son spent the summer after his fourth college year parking cars. Okay, there's the rotten economy. And both these two are now in actual jobs. But the point is, both of them (and their siblings) took it for granted they would be taken care of for as long as it took. Coming of age is more about being able to drink legally, than it was a signal of adulthood.
Don't get me wrong, both my girls, and all Harry's kids are all good kids, and we count ourselves lucky in their health and characters and general eventual promise. But the lack of urgency with which they approach taking up the responsibilities of their adult lives startles me every time.
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