I guess its time to get all the stuff I've written when we had no internet connection onto the blog. Here's the story so far....
Saturday 1/3/09
Planned to leave at 7am, lunch with Linda’s mother and brother’s family for a couple of hours, continue to Calhoun, Ga to stay with Linda’s college roommate and maid of honor at our wedding. Left at noon and spent the night with Linda’s brother, David, and his family in Lexington. Their 7-year-old daughter, Lizzie, drew pictures of us. Linda’s picture showed severe nasal drippage, while mine actually had me with more hair on my head than I do in reality and beautiful long eyelashes I didn’t realize were so lovely. I like that girl. They allowed us to park our soaking wet trailer in their garage.
Sunday 1/4/09
Got up around 7 and went to Linda’s mother’s place for breakfast. Bacon and eggs and brownies to go. 10 o’ clock departure, rainy all the way to Calhoun. Got there around 4 and Nancy had to leave to return to North Carolina at 6. Too brief a visit, but very enjoyable while it lasted and she let us crash there for the night.
Monday 1/5/09
I woke up during the thunderstorms at 2am and finally got up and watched TV at 4:30. Early morning news began at 5 and I discovered that the Georgia happy-face morning news crews are just as annoying as the Michigan happy-face morning crews. I woke Linda at 5:30 to try to beat the Atlanta rush hour traffic, while dodging downpours in the dark with no breakfast. Dragging the trailer beast around Atlanta during the first day back for all those poor employed people was not fun. I was a target for every carpetbagger yuppie intent on cutting in line to cut 15 seconds off his commute time. I called on all my knowledge of Zen Buddhism to remain calm. I believe it has something to do with motorcycles.
Finally past Atlanta, we stop at a Waffle House around 9 o’clock, starving. Truly deep south, with its plusses and minuses. With our car and trailer stacked up like the Beverly Hillbillies, we fit right in. It seems as if everyone else in there has been coming there since the 60’s. Food is excellent and Linda orders grits, which are so good, even I like them. As all the old Georgia folk leave, they call out to the veteran waitress and cook, “See you tomorra, Debbie. Great job, Jimmy.” The pink-uniformed white Debbie hollers, “See y’all later. Take care.” The ageless black cook says, “Good day to you, Mister Jenkins. And to you, Miss Jenkins.” Not everything changed with Obama’s election.
Back on the road, everything goes so well, we decide to stop at Costco in Orlando, two hours from our destination. We stock up on supplies we’ll need the next week. A little while later, I have to slow down because the trailer is fishtailing a lot. I explain it as a result of the construction zone we’re in: grooves worn in the road and all. I eventually decide that it could also have been caused by losing air pressure in one of the trailer tires when it proceeds to shred itself on I-95, an hour north of our destination. Luckily, it happened right before an exit and I got right off and pulled to the side. So did a young guy in a new Ford F-150. As we stopped, he ran up to find out what had come out of my trailer and destroyed his brand new truck. He said, and I’m not kidding, that it was like bowling balls were hitting his truck and he wanted to know what I was carrying. He looked under the tarp, said he was calling the police and claimed that his brand new truck was wrecked. I said “OK.” Because that’s the kind of relaxed Zen-kinda guy I am. Or maybe I was really tired and a little more focused on what I was going to do with a busted trailer full of tools on the shoulder of an exit ramp from I-95 at 7:30 at night in the middle of Florida. I was also kind of amazed that I had managed to destroy the only new vehicle bought in the US in the last month. What are the odds?
Luckily, the crazed Ford owner had a passenger who asked if we had a flashlight. We did, and they couldn’t find any damage on the mighty Ford. They left and we limped the trailer around the corner to a gas station. There, two unusual occurrences and one normal one took place. On the bizarre side, we not only had a wrench that fit the lug nuts, the spare tire had air in it. And as usual, a drunk passenger in an SUV filling up with gas yelled questions and advice to me while I changed the tire. Although I never asked, I now know that he’s from Poughkeepsie, NY and moved to Florida 16 years ago. And there’s no work here, but, apparently, plenty of beer. Works for me. I actually prefer beer to work.
Tire changed, we arrived safely in Fort Pierce. I have to explain that our daughter Erin had given Linda and I a Christmas/Anniversary/I-don’t-want-you-living-with-me gift of her apartment for the month of January. Two of her fellow first-year teachers, Angela and Gregg, had shared a house and Gregg decided to move into his own apartment. Erin moved in with Angela, but since the lease on her apartment ran until February first, she gave it to us for the month. She left the couch, but took the bed. I’d rather she took the couch, but we’ll make do with the airbed we brought. “It’ll be fun! Like camping!”
Anyway, hungry, tired and with 15 hours of car-seat-butt, we arrived at the apartment, dropped the devil-trailer, and went to Angela/Erin’s house, where they had made us a delicious spaghetti dinner with salad and garlic bread. The spaghetti sauce was a famous sauce that Angela had brought back from a restaurant in Huntington, West Virginia and was delicious. Oh, and some Bud Light to wash away the drive and an excellent Pinot Noir with dinner. Also got to spend a little time with Sammy, Erin’s deaf cat. As if any cat listens.
Back to the apartment, inflate the bed, sleep.
This is the great gray beast. Still think it's a good idea? I love the aluminum clamshell awning/hurricane shutters. They are no longer legal to install, since they tend to land somewhere in the mid-Atlantic during hurricanes. We still have them because of their inherent beauty and style. Actually, we are opting to SPEND MORE MONEY (our new mantra) and install impact resistant glass (like windshields in a car) that are tested by ramming a 2x4 into them at 35 mph, followed by 2 hours of 140 mph wind. If they hold, even though cracked by the 2x4, they pass. With them, we don't need shutters. We think that will be a big benefit to any prospective buyers and will, hopefully, increase the selling price by more than their cost.
Here's a tip for all you enthusiastic "git-er-dun" types: no matter how much fun it seems or how much you really want to get something tangible accomplished, before swinging a sledgehammer into a wall, check for plumbing. I missed this stack by a couple of inches and it goes directly to the septic tank. I'd really prefer that the pipe continues to vent out the roof instead of into the living room.
This is bedroom number #2 in the house. My favorite feature is the window to bedroom #3. When bedroom #3 was added to the rear of the house, they moved the outside window from #2, where it was no longer needed, to #3, where it has a fine view of the back yard. That makes sense. However, instead of closing off the old window hole, someone thought it was a better idea to put adjustable shelves in the gap. That way, the occupants of 2 different bedrooms can enjoy the same knick-knacks. Maybe they won a doubles tournament together and this way they could share the trophy. Nice paint job, too.
Here is Dave trying to move a very large refrigerator in through the front door. The neighbors saw us and gave us a hand after I took this.
This doesn't have anything to do with the project, except that it is one of the reasons we're down here! This is the moonrise over the Indian River.
