Now What's He Doing?

 

Good gravy! Bob's so full of projects that it'd make your (or my!) head spin! (*1) Now what's he doing?

Yes, it involves our stairway. We've lived here for just about ten years (a decade!on January 3rd...) and Bob has always said he'd make us a lovely railing in an effort to help us ascend to the dizzying heights of our second storey. 

And now he's sprung into action, making good on his word. 

See that lattice work at the top? That's all that's been between us and precipitously plunging to an untimely death for lo! these ten years. This lattice was erected in the midst of a snowstorm, shortly after we moved in here. There was nothing- NOTHING!- on the edge of the landing. It's bad enough that I suffer from extreme fear of heights but one day our then-dog Jules started backing out of the room at the end of the landing and all I could think was, "My god! Our beloved dog is going to die!" So we dug out these two pieces of lattice that were stuck in what was then the carport and hastily installed them. And there they stayed for ten years! At least it worked...

The first thing Bob had to do was level off all those white vertical slats that the house's previous owner had sawed off at oddly irregular heights. That accomplished, Bob then added a top member and wide upright boards to offer a place to screw the plates that will hold the railing into.

Looks better already! Bob has a really great idea for this whole project. The railing is going to be a simple metal bar but the screening at the top that will replace the lattice... Just you wait! I'm really excited!! It will be magic! (*2)

(*1) I mean, I can vacuum and clean up assorted animal poop with the best of them , but Bob DOES things like re-roof part of the barn and make driveway gates and chop up thirty cords of fire wood. Big stuff. Things I can't do! But I've been entrusted with spackling in nail and screw holes and probably painting. I can't hurt myself on those things...

(*2) Remember how wonderful the gate was that Bob made me for my birthday? Well this will be amazing in a whole different way. Stay tuned.

Stair Master!

Congratulations to Robin the Good! She finally mastered descending the stairs! Robin was ace on running up the stairs but going down had eluded her. It was that first top step that was a killer. She'd dangle her paws over the edge and make frustrated moaning sounds. It was imperative that she learn to go down the stairs as she's getting bigger and heavier: Lil' Robin has gained 10 pounds since she came to live with us. I was at my absolute upper weight limit for picking her up as she is heavy AND squirmy. (30 pounds and growing at her last vet appointment.)
Bob worked very diligently at assisting Robin in mastering the stairs. He began by carrying her down the stairs and putting her down, then carrying her down except putting her down on the third lowest stair and then half way down... until finally she just did it. It was such a conceptual leap; you could see the gears grinding in her head. But she committed and the next thing I knew, she was halfway down. You have to imagine that her legs are very long and still ungainly- her back end tends to overtake her front end. But she did it!
Now, of course, the stairs are a great source of fun and entertainment. Up and down and up and down; great exercise and great help for her coordination. (Sometimes, she can't find her brakes in time and over shoots and crashes into things like trees and glass doors. Ouch.) Thank god for carpets (even ugly, stained carpet) as it makes for better traction that wood.
Today, we're having a puppy play date so we're expecting utter exhaustion come this evening.

A Trip-ney to the (Nu) Whitney

This is a screen shot of new Whitney Museum of American Art. You may well remember that I do not take my camera anywhere on trips; why bother? So many other people take better photos! I'd rather enjoy my day...
Anyway, Bob and I and our good friend (and artist and art dealer) Ellen piled into her Prius and hit the streets of Chelsea (after surviving traffic jams coming and going), secured parking and walked on the High Line for a few blocks- always a treat! until we ran smack into the new Whitney Museum. Somehow, it had looked more impressive (from the outside) while under construction, but the above shot- with the aid of sexy evening lighting- looks pretty smart. We were able to skip the line which snaked around the block, as Ellen is a member, but to our chagrin, no guests were allowed on her pass, so we ponied up $44 for Bob and me. Kinda steep and I was already feeling a bit peeved...
But we proceeded into the cavernous main hall to take an elevator up to look at art. In my humble estimation, the main lobby looked like an airport terminal and there was not a painting or sculpture to be seen. And the elevators either weren't working or were being used for some other purpose, as there were throngs of people sort of standing around, staring at the closed doors. We opted for the stairs.
These particular stairs led us up three flights and then sort of landed us in another lobby. There were uncomfortable looking people holding some sort of meeting in a glass partitioned office space and it's a good thing they were on view, as there was still no art to be seen. And this is three stories up. Or options here were stand in front of the still seemingly implacable elevator doors (more throngs) or climb more stairs. Deciding that the cardiovascular benefits of climbing further stairs was a fine idea, we set out trying to find the stairs. It became apparent that the design of this new museum left a lot to be desired. The floor plan is not at all intuitive, and they seemed to like to hide the stairways. There were many cul-de-sac office hallways and a few dead ends before we located the stairs. And climb we did, on stairs that hardly seemed intended for use by paying customers, as they were sketchily painted and sort of service-entrance underwhelming. (I get the fact that the entire architectural message here screamed "Industrial!")
When we finally ascended to floor seven or eight, we realized that our timing was poor as the major opening show was closed and the next block buster was being installed. We had paid full entrance to see mostly permanent collection; which is fine as they have a swell collection, but we couldn't help but feel a tad gypped. (Yes, I think that's now a politically incorrect term... sorry!) There was a good show of an African American painter, Archibald Motley, (great name) who painted jazz age crowded pictures. We enjoyed the decks that cantilever out from the building and the views of lower and mid-town Manhattan were truly stunning (and on a picture perfect nary a cloud blue sky sort of day) but Ellen pointed out that she had wanted to walk further around the building on the outside, and the decks sort of dead-ended. The entire floor plan seemed to give art a back seat to office space and hallways and "staff only" signs. The circular revolving doors were damned heavy, too! A helpful security guard set one spinning for us...
I think I'm trying to reinforce that the impression of the actual building wasn't optimal. The three of us were a bit disappointed; you do want to be wowed for the initial visit to a major museum and so many people had raved. I felt cheated at having shelled out $44 and not been warned that several major gallery sections were closed for install. We did enjoy an interesting meal at the cafe on the top floor: a tripod of fish croquettes in a bean salad and really nice sauce. Best part of the trip! And lots of art world chatter and fine company! But I hate to say that we won't be paying a repeat visit any time soon.

Let's Build a Stairway to the Stars!

A fine example of things that go flap in the night! Bob and I are laying in bed and it's 9 or 10 degrees outside with the wind picking up and howling. And there's that crash-crash-crash noise again as a swell of wind lofts the louvered door on our whole house fan. Neither Bob nor I had remembered that this had been an issue the last time a stern wind blew... and there goes the heat in the house.
The whole house fan trap door is, of course, inconvieniently located above the stairway where the ceiling is at its highest. The ever intrepid Bob had to wedge the ladder across the hall and out over the stairs... it looks just awful but I'll take his word that it's safe. But I'm an expert at bizzare household accidents so maybe I'll just go hide when he ascends to the heavens.
And speaking of freak accidents I had a lulu the other day. After visiting Mommy (who is in a convalescent facility) I stopped to get a cup of coffee. I walked all of ten feet from my car to the door and maybe another twelve feet to the counter, where I tried to order a cup of French Roast, but settled for regular. I walked back to my car and attempted to locate my keys. After and exciting hour of turning the car and every article of my clothing inside out, I felt as if I had entered the Twilight Zone. I even borrowed a pair of plastic gloves from the counter teenagers and went through three giant garbage cans, thinking maybe in a pre-occupied moment I had emptied my pockets and teh keys into the trash. They weren't there and it was a hideous enterprise and very much a piece of bad performance art.
Finally, I admitted defeat and called everyone I know who lives (somewhat) locally. No one was imediately home, but my sister Beatrice and her sidekick/life partner John valiantly agreed to drive down and rescue me, if not my car. I finally connected with Bob who was instructed to meet us at Baetrice and John's house. In the meantime, a phone call comes in to Dunkin Donuts and I hear the counter teenager saying that I was still there. Apparently a man who was in line behind me picked up my keys and drove home (an hour away!) with them. At least he realized his error and was gallant enough to drive them all the way back to East haddam and the Dunkin Donuts. Along with two bottles of wine and some really good homemade biscotti. He felt that bad!
Alls well that ends well but never stop in East Haddam for anything as there has to be some bad energy there. This is not the first time odd things have happened to Bob and I at that intersection...

Gratuitous Cute Dog Photo and a Quick Fix

That's Jules asking, "Are we there yet?" while we were staying at our interim house. He's been a real trooper- not even a year old and he's had all kinds of crazy experiences (including being brought to Connecticut from Kansas by flying monkeys when he was only eight weeks old). Fortunately he's adaptable and seems to take it all in stride. That's what he gets for being an artists dog!
One of the first repairs we made at 965 Jeremy Swamp Road was to put up an emergency railing by the stairway. The previous owner had seen fit to saw off the railing leaving absolutely nothing between here and there. (We think this was to more comfortably squeeze the bath tub up when he put in the second bathroom). In any event, Jules loves to play on the landing and I was panicked to think that he (or a beloved friend) was going to simply misstep and plummet over a veritable precipice. I located some lattice stashed by the side of the house and Bob screwed it to a couple of pieces of wood and Voila! Tragedy averted.

It's not a permanent- or particularly lovely- solution, but we don't need to worry about this accident waiting to happen.