Week 18: Illumination

Lighting is key. Since our bedroom suite is the only completed portion of the house, its illumination is important. Our bedroom blinds were accidentally created when we taped up plastic sheets to protect the windows from exterior paint. These ghetto blinds (covered in blue paint) obscure any true light from entering the room. Lighting existed in extremes: “florescent stadium setting” or “dungeon dark”. My hero, Clint, surprised me one afternoon by installing a dimmer! Now, our sanctuary has those subtle distinctions of “sunrise bright” or “movie theater dim” settings.

Week 17: Musical Cars

With such a large emphasis on home repairs, we neglected our growing fleet of vehicles. We’ve been sucked into a MasterCard ad, where daily life is added up ad nauseum.

Towing: $105. We got a call from a friend who has been storing Clint’s first car, a 1978 Buick Regal, in his driveway…for eight years. He needed the space, and a tow truck was called. We are now embracing the common practice of automotive lawn ornaments.

Mechanic: $230. My Volvo started to sputter a few days later on the way home from work trip. At a Bellevue shopping center, the engine died. More towing and mechanic work followed.

Parking Ticket: $35. The City of Renton left a lovely note on our Mustang parked in front of the house. Its tabs had expired. Although we don’t drive this car, it was recklessly parking without current tabs. Clint moved the car to the back lawn, off of the public street and onto the private grass.

Napa parts: $100. We decide to gift the Mustang to its original owner—Clint’s uncle. With a few new parts and a tabs renewal, the car was as good as new. Clint reluctantly gave the convertible away after some guy-car bonding.

Learning a fun new automotive game: priceless

Week 16: Righting the Wave

Inventors of the 1910s brought us the crossword puzzle and fortune cookie. Innovation with tools, however, was a little lacking. Our house was originally constructed without the apparent aid of a level or plumb. This resulted in “wavy” ceilings. To remedy the rolling wave, Clint measured the height of every square foot in the kitchen and tacked up strips of thin wood in needed areas. “Furring” it is called--not to be mistaken for your local taxidermist. There was no visual change after days of this leveling work. At one point, we just sat amidst piles of sawdust and prayed for endurance.
Drywall, on the other hand, is installed in large sheets and looks fantastic instantly. Clint and his dad put up these gypsum boards and "buttoned up" the kitchen ceiling. It's starting to look like a real room. So, while I complete my crossword puzzle and snack on Asian cookies, I marvel at my iPhone App--a mobile level. All the while, I wish those inventors could have seen the potential of bubbles for aiding the horizontal placement of drywall.

Week 15: Sprucing Up for Uncle Sam

With the hours ticking before Sammy reviews our finances, I embarked on an ambitious itemizing project. Hunting down all of the home improvement receipts felt like a belated Easter egg hunt. Just when I thought I’d found them all, Clint would pull a few from an old coat or jeans. Dresser drawers and kitchen cabinets also hid the paper treasures. Here is where our personalities differ. My receipts are kept pristinely in a purse planner—not a wrinkle or blemish. Clint’s are usually crumbled, torn, and marred with strange colors. After smoothing and squinting to find legible text, I painstakingly entered the tax from each purchase. We can now claim $1062 in sales tax alone from purchases made in 2009. Wow. I refuse to calculate the amount that means we spent in total purchases, but a savvy accountant could divide the 1062 number by .096 and find the astronomical amount we spent at Lowes. We will use our return (if any is offered) to purchase stock in the company.

Week 14: Good Friday

It is indeed Good Friday. After a paralyzing migraine Thursday, I can once again resume life. I'm coherent enough to meditate on the suffering of another, namely Christ. When in pain, I become self-focused. Jesus paradoxically suffered selflessly. For the whining and weakling like me he died. So, on this weekend celebrating the power of his death and Resurrection, Clint and I pause. The frenetic demolition, the skill saw cutting, the ceiling furring--all pause.

"Can anything ever separate us from Christ's love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death?...I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love. No powers in the sky above or in the earth below--indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35-39

Week 13: Wired

In a city obsessed with caffeine stimulation, the Nelsons have found an even more electric source of energy. Clint has completed the wiring in the kitchen. His dad is coming over to inspect the work and check its accuracy. I have always taken light switches and outlets for granted. No more.

Week 12: Dry Cleaning

I was recently working on a grad school paper and doing laundry to feel slightly more productive. Amidst the typing tedium of technical writing, I heard running water. Loud water. I opened the door and was accosted by water spewing directly at me from a small white pipe. This renegade washer pipe had unattached itself. My splash-mountain ride continued until I found the shut off dial. The floor was covered with an inch of water, which I quickly sopped up with absorbent dry goods: towels, sweatshirts, stuffed animals. I tend to think these events are apocalyptic, while Clint calmly fixes the problem. With some twisting and glue, it was good as new. I now understand the concept of dry cleaning at a much more personal level.