Opossum in Olathe

Thanks to a cup of Science Diet Advanced Fitness and a trap I borrowed from my boss, we finally discovered what the dogs have already known.

There comes a time when autumn asks, "What have you been doing all summer?"

Today is the First Day of Fall and for the first time in my life, I'm torn between welcoming it with open arms, and telling it to come back a few weeks later.

I love everything about this time of year, but it never lasts as long as I'd like. When I stand outside our home and look at all the outside work that remains to be done, I can't help wishing we had a little bit more time.

Nonetheless, there's no denying progress has been made. The title of a 6.28 post was "1 down, 16 to go" and now—a little over 3 month later— it's exactly the opposite. As soon as we can get that one remaining window in, we'll start scraping, priming and painting the house a still-to-be-determined color.

As nice as it is that Diggs can do it all,
things like this make me nervous.

After the scaffolding was in place,
this window turned out to be pretty easy.

I've learned to snap pictures while saying "Be careful!"

We thought this window would be fairly easy, but turned out there was so much wood rot that we had to pull off an entire section of stucco (not sure why I keep saying "we")

Somehow, the stucco stayed intact and we were able to nail it right back to the house!

An outside view of the project
(the tush ain't bad either)

Lincoln always has to be in the mix…

…while Lewis is content to read on the sidelines.


At last the big guy is in...his other 2 buddies turned out to be easy.

Our weekend in words and pictures

Highs in the mid-70s. Resisted the urge to hit up all the garage sales and estate sales. Ripped out carpet in 3 rooms. Installed windows #9 and #10. Purchased a new back door. Hacked into it to install a Doggie Door. Stepped in dog poop. Mowed the lawn. Drank a lot of coffee. Drank a little beer. Made 4 trips to Home Depot. Made each other laugh. Saw a SOLD sign go up on neighbors' house. Wondered who would take their place.

Dreamed out loud about all the things that will happen in this house—and the people who will call it home.

WE'VE HAD IT!
On Wednesday evening, frustration (and odors) got the best of us. We ripped out all the carpet in the living room.

Saturday morning, the dining room.



Sunday morning, the upstairs hallway.
(I'm proud to say I did this job all by myself)





One of two windows we installed this weekend.
I deemed these the "scary windows."
(you'll see why below)





This sill was totally rotted out…



…and Diggs had to rebuild it.







(a pause to admire my handsome boyfriend…)


(…and the things he does)

The apparatus used to install the aforementioned "scary" windows.



Diggs is amused. I am not.



Our new back door.

Lincoln figures out how to use the Doggie Door
(then promptly scours the area for crumbs of food)

Keep it to yourself

Long story, short: Lincoln has cancer and Digger and I have decided to treat him with chemotherapy. Have we carefully thought it out? Yes. Is it also an emotional decision? Yes. Do we care what anyone thinks about it? No.

We rescued Lincoln from the Topeka Animal shelter last May. And I mean rescue in the most literal sense—he was scheduled to be euthanized the following week. In spite of—or maybe because of—all his quirky, annoying, 75-lbs of licking and butt-wiggling ways, we adore him.

Other than the vet specialists, we have not asked anyone what they think about our decision. But it's fascinating how many people feel, not only compelled, but obligated, to share their opinion anyway. Or at least offer a complimentary eye-roll, smirk or under-the-breath comment.

And I've found that reactions really have nothing to do with whether people love dogs, hate them or are totally ambivalent. "I just wouldn't put my dog through that pain" says one. (Well, guess what, he's not IN pain). "I would just let him live out the rest of his life peacefully" says another (he's only 2 years old). Which just goes to show that people really aren't commenting on our specific situation, but rather just sharing what they would do if faced with the same. Which would be great. If we asked, and if we cared.

In a post about her sons moving back home (The boys are back in house), my friend Molly writes in her blog:

Our 20-something sons are moving back in for awhile for a bunch of reasons, none of which are anybody's business but our own.

I enjoyed this when I first read it over a year ago. But now, I get it. I would never dare to imply that dogs are on par with children, and the enormous responsibility of being a parent. But damn it, right now our dogs are the only life forms that Diggs and I are accountable for and it's nobody's business but our own how we carry out that responsibility.

We made a conscience, well-intended, researched decision that involves our own time, our own money and doesn't affect anyone but our little family. Judgement is not welcome.

However, advice and suggestions on stripping wallpaper are appreciated.

Bad Ads: #1

Over the years, I've made a habit of collecting magazine ads that I both love and hate. Not for any particular reason; sometimes they give me inspiration, sometimes they make me laugh, and most of the time they remind me I'm not as clever as I like to think I am.

Check out this gem below:

  

My first thought when I saw this ad: "Damn. I forgot to schedule my weekly shaving party with my girlfriends. I think our color will be.…pink… this week. "

I especially love the girl on the far right, who has her razor poised and ready to use. Once all the laughter subsides, of course. 

Man's Best Friend...until you piss them off

Poor, poor Lincoln. Had a mass removed from his paw last week, but wouldn't leave the darn stitches alone. Layers upon layers of padding, gauze and tape—even covered with a baby sock and sprayed with bitter-tasting stuff—could not stop him from chewing, biting and tearing it all away and ripping out his stitches. So after a week and several trips to the vet, we've finally landed on something that's worked.

But boy, oh boy, does he hate us. All those sayings about how dogs are always happy to see you and they love you unconditionally? Those dogs probably didn't walk around with a plastic satellite dish on their head that takes away their peripheral vision and prevents them from going up and down stairs or jumping on the bed—two of his favorite activities.

If I could have a conversation with Lincoln, I'd let him know that it's for his own good and we just want him to get back to normal. And that we're sorry the bump on his paw turned out to be cancer. And that we're gonna do everything we can to help him get better. And that we love him.

1 down, 16 to go...

So progress on the house has taken a little longer than expected. Turns out, after getting off work, eating dinner, and walking the dogs, energy & ambition levels are fairly low. Throw in a wedding, a vacation, girls' nights, golf tournaments, and time is nowhere to be found.

I guess you could say we aren't letting this house get in the way of living our lives.

This weekend, we got the ball rolling. Simple, casement window on the north (shaded!) side of the house. We'll try and get the other 16 installed next weekend.

Ta-duh...finished product!