Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Daffs!

I have daffodils!!



You know what that means!  Spring is not far away. 

Soon, I'll be digging in the dirt and spending way too much money and planting bunches and bunches of flowers. 

I can't wait!!


Monday, February 13, 2017

And Away We Go

I hadn't intended to buy any plants yet.  I was just going to go into the garden center to look.  To see what they had.  Not to buy.  Just to look. 

If you know me at all, you know that I have no will power.  Not when it comes to plants.  None whatsoever. 

These two followed me home.


The yellow one is a Gerbera Daisy, and the other is a trailing pansy.  I put the trailing pansy into a hanging pot right outside my back door.  I'm going to put the daisy on my front porch.

I've been itching to get my hands in the dirt again, but it's too early in the year to plant anything just yet.  So, I did the next best thing.  Remember how I'd sprayed weed killer on my front yard a week or so ago? 



Over the last few days, I've been getting out there and just pulling them up by hand.


I've still got a lot of yard to go, but maybe it'll hold me until I can get my flower beds going. 

Maybe. 





Friday, February 10, 2017

Eye Candy Friday

It's been a while since I've done one of these posts, but here you go. 

Supervisor Ronny has to pass by the lake on his way to work.  No, I don't know where he lives, and I wouldn't tell you if I did.  I'm already invading his privacy enough just by sharing this. 

Anyway, he drives by the lake on his way to work, and every so often, he'll stop and take a picture of the sunrise.  This is the one he posted yesterday, which I shamelessly stole from his Facebook page.  


My apologies, Ronny, but this one was too beautiful not to share. 

Thursday, February 09, 2017

The Chicken Hawk

A couple of days ago, Beverly sent me this picture of my dad doing a little target practice with his trusty cap gun.


My first thought was, "Awww, Dad with his cap gun."  My second thought was, "What's up with those pants?"  Seriously, who dressed him in dad pants as a little boy?  Almost every picture I have of him as a youth shows him wearing dad pants. 


Almost every picture I have of him as a dad shows him wearing dad pants. 


Maybe he was just very long waisted.  Or high waisted.  Or whatever.  He always wore the dad pants.  When he wasn't wearing boxer shorts, that is.   Which is also a very dad thing to do. 

Anyway, back to my story.  This is my dad as a boy doing a little target practice with his trusty cap gun. 


When my dad died back in 1995, my sister was home on leave from the Navy, and my brother came home on emergency leave from the Army.  I had three days of funeral leave from work, but I took a couple more days off.  I'd have loved to take things a bit more slowly, but due to time constraints, we kind of had to sort through his things in a hurry. Before we started, my aunt cautioned us not to fight over his stuff.

"Stuff is just stuff," she said.

And we didn't.  We didn't fight over anything.  A few weeks later, when we got his life insurance payout, it ended up being a bit more than we expected.  I was telling a coworker about it, and she asked, "Who got the money?"  I told her we'd split it four ways, and she acted like she'd never heard of such a thing.   But why wouldn't we?  I can't imagine not splitting it evenly amongst us.  Is my brother less my dad's child than I am?   Is my sister more my dad's child then my other brother?  Why then would only one of us get all the money?

But I digress.  We started sorting through his things, and the way we did it was this:

We'd pull out an item and if only one of us wanted it, then that person got it.  If only two of us were interested, those two would flip a coin.  For the things that held a lot of sentimental value that all of us might have wanted, we laid out a grid on the floor and numbered each square from one to four.  Because there are four of us.  We'd set one item in each square and then draw numbers from a hat.  Whatever number you got was the memento you received.  It was the fairest way we could think of to do it.

I didn't say anything at the time, but I really, really wanted that cap gun. 

During the round when said cap gun was laid out in the square, I reached into the hat, silently praying, "Please let me get the cap gun.  Please let me get the cap gun".  When the numbers had been revealed and the dust settled, I didn't get the cap gun.  I ended up with Dad's pipe stand.  Imagine Charlie Brown saying "I got a rock," and you will understand the tone and inflection I used when I said, "I got the pipe stand."  At almost the same time, my older brother --with the same tone and inflection --said, "I got the cap gun."

I looked at Russell.  He looked at me, and I said, "Want to trade?"  He did, so we did, and we were both happy.  It was then that I told my siblings the reason I wanted Dad's cap gun so badly. It was because of a story he'd told me once, and it is my favorite of the stories he told me about his childhood. 

That is the story I am going to tell you now.

When my dad was a boy, thirteen years old, he was out at his Aunt Annie's house.  I know they'd lived with Aunt Annie for a while, but I don't know if this was then, or if they were just visiting.  Dad was dressed up in his cowboy outfit, and had been playing in the front yard.  He sat down on the front steps and was watching the chickens scratching in the dirt.

Just then, out of the sky swooped a chicken hawk, talons extended, ready to grab a helpless hen.  Reacting swiftly, my dad whipped out his cap gun and shot the hawk.  Of course, being only a cap gun, the hawk was unharmed, but the noise frightened it away, and the chicken was saved.

Dad was so proud that he'd saved Aunt Annie's chicken.

My dad was born in 1926, and spent his formative years during the Great Depression.  He didn't have a lot of toys, so it's no wonder he took such good care of that cap gun, and the holster he carried it in.  I have it now, carefully packed away, and I'll always treasure it.

And my dad went by the nickname Cowboy for the rest of his life.


Wednesday, February 08, 2017

Muses And Mojo

I know, I know.  It's been a while.  Oh, I've had stuff to blog about, but when I sit down in front of the computer, Calliope deserts me.  Work has been difficult, and then all the nonsense that has been going on around the country.  It's tiresome, and I'm tired.  No, beyond tired.  Weary.  Tolkien would style this as a weariness of the world.  That deep set, down in your bones, soul crushing fatigue. 

I wasn't planning on blogging today, either, but there is that one crazy coworker who, if I go too long without blogging will chase me down, wring my neck, and say, "BLOG, darn it!!"  Wracking my brain, I finally thought of something to blog about, and spent all afternoon mentally composing what I hoped to be a fascinating post.

However, when I got home, all that went out the window, for there in my mailbox was a package.

"Ah," I said.  "It's my package from Amazon."  But when I pulled the package out of the aforementioned mailbox, turns out it wasn't from Amazon at all.  It was from my friend Lisa.  And what was in said package?  It was some yarn! 



Thank you, Lisa!  Mwaaa!

There looks to be enough of the pink to make myself a pair of socks, too.  The purple is just a bit too fuzzy for the blanket, so I might make a hat out of it.   There should be enough for a kid's hat at least.

Oh, but that wasn't all.  Hidden under the yarn was this:


Viking socks!  See the girl at the bottom with the long pigtails?  That's me.  When I was a girl, Laura Ingalls was my hero.  I wanted to be just like her.  I wore my hair in pigtails for years.  At one point, I even took to calling my parents Ma and Pa, until my mother made me quit.  "It makes us sound like hicks," she complained. 

Thank you again, Lisa.  That is the perfect little pick-me-up. 

As if that weren't enough, my knitting mojo has also deserted me, for the most part.  I managed to finish this scarf. 


It ended up being a little shorter than I normally like scarves to be, but it isn't for me anyway, so that doesn't matter.  It's going to end up in the charity box.  I really like the color changes on this one.  With it being finished, I went back and picked this one back up.


This is the first ball of Scarfie that I'd bought -- the one with all the knots.   I'm going to put this one into the charity box, too.  I figured whoever gets it won't care that the color changes aren't as smooth.  It's still going to be warm, and that's what counts. 

My sock continues apace.  I've finished the leg and am ready to start the heel flap. 


I finally got around to watching Age of Ultron.  Civil War makes so much more sense now. 

OK, time for me to go do something about this weariness of the body, now that my soul has been restored. 



'






Friday, February 03, 2017

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like

Spring!

Yeah, I know, I know.  It's still winter, and will be for some time yet, but spring is coming. 

I saw some daffodils blooming on the way home from work yesterday.   When I went to Wal-mart this evening, they are busy getting their garden center ready.  I feel like a kid with my nose pressed against the window of the toy store.  Only it's the plant store.  Watching.  Waiting...

Waiting for them to put the plants out. 

The nice thing about dealing with annuals is that I can try new things every year.  This year, it will be these. 


I've never grown freesias before, so this will be an adventure. 

I think I'm going to have to replace my gardenias that I planted last year.  I'm pretty sure I killed them with wasp spray in my never ending battle with those demons from Hell.  Now that, hopefully, I've got those holes plugged up, I won't be dealing with wasps this summer, and I won't be killing my plants with insecticide.   If, though, the wasps find a way back into that area, I'll deal with them first, so that I don't inadvertently kill more gardenias.

When I'm finally ready to plant again, I'm definitely going to do a better job of prepping the soil.  Last year, when I bought the gardenias, I had no idea I'd be planting them in a rock pile.  Next time, I'm going to dig good sized holes, sift all the rocks out, and add topsoil to that area.

The people who lived here before loved rocks.  I'm not kidding.  They are everywhere.  A couple of weeks ago, when I was moving my spider lilies, guess what I found.  That's right.  Rocks.  Out in the middle of the yard where no rocks ought to be. 

But there they were.  I'm beginning to think I should name my home Rockytop. 

Even though I'm not in Tennessee. 


Thursday, February 02, 2017

Dogs On Thursday

It's been a while since I've done a Dogs On Thursday, too, so here you go:


Yes, I've only got a picture of Rylea.  Even after 5 1/2 years, Jesse is still camera shy.  Even after 5 1/2 tears, I can't pet him without him ducking.  I can't put on my belt without him ducking, and heaven forbid he see me with a stick in my hand.  I just wonder what the poor feller went through before I adopted him. 


There's something I've been considering lately.  It's been just over 2 years since I changed my hair color.  It used to be medium ash blonde.  Now, it's dark auburn.  I like the color, but I'm considering going back to a lighter color.  The main reason for that is, my roots are almost completely gray now, and the darker my color is, the more my roots stand out between colorings.  I'm thinking if I lighten the color, they won't be so obvious.  Yes, I know they have that root stuff, but it costs almost as much as a regular bottle of dye. 

I'm kind of bummed that Walmart has stopped carrying my color.  I've been ordering it online -- along with my gel and conditioner and lactose enzyme supplements that Walmart no longer carries.  That entire sentence is kind of pointless, and I'm not sure why I even wrote it...

The question is, go to a lighter red, back to blonde, or more towards what used to me my natural color of brown?  What do you think? 


Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Whiskers On Wednesday

It's been a long time since I've done a whiskers on Wednesday post, but it occurred to me this afternoon that I might not have too much longer.  Time is running out.  Squeaky is getting old, and I don't know how much longer we'll have her with us.  These days, she spends most of her time either sleeping, or doing this: 


Just looking out the window.  Watching the world go by. 

Oh, look, here is some knitting. 


My cousin has been going through some more of my Aunt's things, and today, she posted this.  It is a copy of my great-great grandfather's naturalization papers



It was pointed out that the typewriter wasn't invented until 1868, and this paper is dated 1851.  That is correct.  I imagine the original was written out in longhand.  I also imagine that once typewriters became widely available, old records were copied on them, much the way we are digitizing old records today. 

I apologize for my posts being so dull here lately.  Really, there just hasn't been anything going on that is worth writing about.  I go to work.  I come home.  I watch TV.  I go to bed.  The next day, I get up and do it all over again. 

Maybe something blogworthy will happen soon. 




Monday, January 30, 2017

Going To The Store

Normally, I go to the store on Fridays, when I have to go into town to do all my payday errands anyway.  This past Friday, I didn't go because...well, I can't remember why, but I didn't go.  No worries.  I had plenty of milk.  I'd just go Saturday after work.

Saturday was a beautiful day.  Sunny, blue skies, cool breezes.  I left work, got into my car and started driving.  I got almost home when I looked around and said, "What am I doing here?  I was supposed to go to the store."  Oh, well.  I'll go home, change clothes, then go to the store.  But, you know me.  Once I'm home, I'm home.  Needless to say, I didn't go to the store Saturday, either.

Today was one of those Murphy's Days at work.  Whatever could go wrong did.  We had a lot of people out, and Group Leader Theresa came and asked me, "Are you going to need [the other sub-brazer] over here?" 

"YES!" I replied. 

"Well, I'm going to move her over there," Theresa said.  Um, why'd you even ask if you weren't going to listen to what I said?  She's bad about that. Saturday she asked me if I knew how to do such and such job.  I told her no, and she told me to go down and do the job I'd just told her I didn't know how to do. 

Back to today, stuff just kept going wrong, which meant they had to skip a few orders.  That put the sub brazers behind from the get go.  I jokingly told Theresa, "This is how you give your brazers gray hair!"  Not much she could do about it, though.  We can't send bad parts out the door, you know. 

Eventually, Murphy's day finally came to a close.  I went out to my car and just sat there for a long time debating whether I really needed the things I said I needed from the store -- mainly milk.  My life seems to revolve around when the milk jug and the dog food bag runs dry.  Did I have enough milk for breakfast?  Maybe I'd just skip milk with my breakfast.  Maybe I could go tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow would be a better day at work.  Then again, maybe tomorrow would be worse. 

I finally told myself that I might as well go and get it over with.   Off to the store I went. 

Sunday afternoon, I watched Captain America: Civil War on Netflix.  I was watching it, and some things just weren't jiving for me.  There were a couple of new characters, and some story inconsistencies that just weren't making sense.  Where did those people come from, and what was going on here?  I asked on Facebook if I'd missed something, and sure enough, some of my friends told me I needed to watch Age of Ultron first.  Well, that explains it.  I hadn't seen Age of Ultron. 

I checked Netflix, but they didn't have it.  I checked Amazon.  They had it to buy, but not to rent.  Since I like to have the physical copies of my movies, while I was at the store this afternoon, I wandered over to the electronics section and found the two movie set. 


I promptly added it to my collection. 

I had several of the Marvel movies, but when Cody left, he took most of them with him.  Now I have to start over.  I have these two and Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 

I think I'm going to turn in early tonight.  I was up late last night watching a documentary on the six wives of Henry VIII. 

Marvel comics and Henry VIII -- that's just who I am. 

Saturday, January 28, 2017

SCORE!!!

My cousin Billy found the holy grail of ancestry!  This is Peter Magnus Gunstream and his wife Mary Alita Gunstream.

Peter was born in Sweden on November 8, 1816 and came to America in 1836.  He landed in New York, New York on his 20th birthday.  He brought with him a tool chest and a Bible.  He met Mary Alita Davis in Louisiana, and they were married on August 11, 1842.  Their first two children, Gustavus (my great grandfather) and Belinda were born in Louisiana. 

The family moved west and settled in what would later become Wood County, Texas in 1847.   Peter grew rice, wheat, oats, and sorghum.  In the years leading up to the Civil War,  he foresaw the need for both a lumber mill and a grist mill.  Peter build a dam and formed a pond, then he bought an 8 foot overshot water wheel, and soon the two mills were in operation. 

On November 15, 1852, after receiving permission from the U.S. Postmaster General, Peter opened the first post office in Holly Springs, Texas.   Peter was also the first county commissioner for Precinct 4 after Wood county was organized in 1850.  Sometime during his life, he apparently ran a cotton gin as well. 

Peter and Mary had 8 children, two of whom died in childhood.  After Mary's death, Peter married Mary Rogers, and they had two children.  Peter's third wife was a widow named Ellen Winkle.  They had no children. 

Peter died in March of 1882, and is buried in the family cemetery overlooking the old homestead and what is now known as Gunstream Lake. 

Source:  Wood County

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Upheaval And Weeds


If you know anything about me at all, then you know one thing I do not like is change.  Seriously.  I have been eating the same breakfast and lunch nearly every day for well over a decade.  Rearranging the furniture causes me serious stress.  I don't even like buying new clothes.  I'd just as soon everything stay the same forever.  And ever.

Ever since we got back from Christmas break, I've been in a state of upheaval at work.  My supervisor, Supervisor Nate, is moving to a new job.  Still with the plant, just a different position.  He's been training for the last two weeks, and Supervisor Calvin has been over my area.  Just about the time I get used to working for Calvin again (I've worked for him before, a long time ago), I found out that starting next week, Supervisor Mike will be our supervisor.  I'm kind of feeling like the proverbial frog in a blender here lately.

This afternoon, Mike came over and spoke to a few people on the line.  He thought he was going to get smart with me and asked, "Where are those Dallas Cowboys earrings you usually have in your lobes?"

"In the drawer, right next to your Seattle Seahawks earrings,"  I shot back.  Figuratively speaking, that is.  Supervisor Mike doesn't wear earrings.

All right, then.  Upward and onward...

To some of you, this may look like a lush, green lawn. 


The reality is, it's a yard full of weeds.


I can see at least four different kinds of weeds.  There may be more, I don't know.  I had to run into the store after work for dog food, so I went over to the garden center and picked up some weed killer.  It's Ortho something or other.  Supposed to be safe for grass.  We shall see.  I'm determined that my front yard at least will look nice. 

Since I was outside taking pictures anyway, I thought I'd show you some of the other goings on in the yard.  Here you have a photo of my roses.  What you can see of them anyway. 


I really pruned them back pretty hard, since they had been let to run wild for who knows how long.  I'm not finished with them, but I think I'll leave them alone for this year.  I need to research some more, since I don't really know what I'm doing.  I just cut away the branches that were rubbing or crossing each other, and tried to open up where it was really thick in the middle.  I hope I didn't kill it. 

In this picture, you can see some of my daffodils coming up. 


I put them all in this bed last year. 


Those are spider lilies surrounding it, which I want to move, and I still have several more patches to move or thin besides these, so as you can see, I will have plenty to share.  Anybody who wants some, just hit me up and I'll hook you up.

My next project will be to work on my crepe myrtles.  No, I do not intend to commit crepe murder, but they definitely need some work.  This one is probably the scraggliest of the lot.  


I'm going to see what I can do to shape them up some. 

Wish me luck.  I've never dealt with crepe myrtles before.















Tuesday, January 24, 2017

One Of Those Days

This is one of those days.  It happens every now and again, and it happened again today.  What is it that is causing me such distress?  I'll tell you.

I can't think of anything to blog about.

All day at work, I was trying to think of something fascinating to tell you about, but I couldn't.

I thought for a moment, I could tell you about this guy.  If you've been reading my blog for a while, you might remember this story.  If you haven't, well, there is the link above.  I caution you, though, not to have young children hanging over your shoulder if you choose to read it.  It's nothing vulgar, but is a bit crude.

What I didn't tell you is that for weeks after that, he tried to catch me looking.  I'd be working, and he'd walk by and turn around really fast to see if I was looking at him.  Another time, I was watching a guy across the aisle, and this guy walked right in front of me, then turned really fast to try to catch me watching, but I never was.  That went on until he got moved back to second shift.  

I wasn't just going to rehash an old story.  I was going to tell you that he got moved to day shift when we came back from Christmas.  So far, he hasn't acted like he remembers me, and I've been ignoring him.  Suits me just fine.


Then I thought I could tell you how I pruned my roses back Saturday evening.  However, I hadn't gone out and taken pictures, and it's kind of dull without pictures.  And I though I would tell you about how my daffodils are making an appearance, but again, I didn't take pictures.

Or I could tell you how I made my oatmeal just a bit too soupy yesterday morning.  I poured the last little bit of milk off into the dog's bowl, but the cat decided she wanted it.  The cat got it.  The dog knows who is boss. 


Oh, yeah!  I'll tell you about this!  I got to work this morning, and one of the mirrors in the bathroom was missing. 


Makes me wonder what kind of wild parties they have on the night shift.

BTW, the soap dispensers have been broken for weeks.  Replacements are supposedly on order.  However, given that one of the sinks has been broken for upwards of 15 years, I'm not holding my breath on that. 

Well, I could have told you all of that stuff, but today was one of those days when I just couldn't think of anything to blog about.




Monday, January 23, 2017

Weekending


I'm back!  I know it's been a while.  I'd meant to blog, but I didn't.  Then I meant to blog again, but I didn't.  And I'd meant to blog a third time, but I didn't.   So, here I am today.

Truth is, I came home from work Friday, turned on C-Span and watched all the inauguration stuff. I got so caught up in it, that I just didn't take the time to blog.  Of course, I'd missed it live, being at work at the time it all went down, but they replayed most of it.  The only inauguration that I got to see as it was happening was Bush (43)'s first one.  I'm not sure why I was home from work that day, but I was.

Anyway, back to this week, after staying up way too late watching all the pomp and ceremony, then getting up at 3:30 to go to work Saturday, I was a bit brain dead by the time I got home.   I don't normally blog on Sundays anyway, so there you go.  And that brings us to today.

And here we go...

My cousin has been posting more old family photos.  I stole these to share with you.

This is my grandfather's brother, Uncle Charlie.


If I remember right, and I'm sure Beverly will correct me if I'm wrong, Uncle Charlie was the third child of my great grandparents.  He was a very handsome man.

This is Uncle Mag, my grandfather's oldest brother.  Again, I think.  I have all this written down somewhere.  Uncle Mag definitely has the Gunstream look about him. 


My great grandparents had 12 children, but only five lived until adulthood.  My grandfather was the youngest, so the oldest three were grown and having children of their own by the time Pappaw came along. 

This is Pappaw and his closest (in age) brother Louis Clyde. 


My other cousin Billy found that one online somewhere, but I haven't been able to find where he got it.   He said it was on the Quitman Public Library website, but I can't find the photos section on there.  I mean, there is a section labeled photos, but I can't find these.  My ludditeness is showing again. 

Finally, this is my great grandmother Harriet Burford Gunstream


and my great grandfather, Gustavus Adolphus Gunstream. 


I'd seen the picture of Great Grandma Harriet before, but it took me until just now to realize that was chair behind her, and not her hair.  Billowing out behind her.  In a frizzy pouf. 

All this time, I'd thought I'd gotten my mop from her. 

Strangely enough, that kind of makes me disappointed. 



Thursday, January 19, 2017

Admonished

There I was at work, just a working away, when my coworker came over and asked, "Did you write a blog yesterday?" 

Truth is, I hadn't, because I was just so tired I couldn't think of anything to say.  It was the worst kind of tired, too.  Not because the work day was so busy.  Quite the opposite.  It was because it was so slow.  I'm the kind of person who likes to stay busy, and days like yesterday are pure torture.  I can't stand just standing around, or trying to find stuff to do.  I want to work.  But that's how it was all day yesterday.  By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was sit in front of the TV and do nothing.  Thus, no post.

I told my coworker no, and she admonished me with a shake of her finger.  You should all be thankful, because if it weren't for her finger wagging, you probably wouldn't be getting a post today, either.  I have been totally discombobulated all day long. 

It all started when I woke up sometime in the middle of the night, and the first thing that popped into my head was, "I was asleep!  I was actually asleep!"  And the day just went down hill from there.

One of my coworkers is expecting a baby early next month, so we are going to have a little baby shower for her.  I was mentioning to another coworker that I had to go to the store this afternoon, and it was raining.  All the way home yesterday, I was telling myself to go to the store, because it was going to be raining today, but I didn't go, so now I have to go.  She asked me what I needed to get, and I said, "A gift for [our coworker]".  The one to whom I was speaking looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said, "You know when the shower is, right?"  I said, "tomorrow."  No, it's next Friday. 

She'd told me the date, but for some reason, I had tomorrow set in my mind.  So, yay, I didn't have to go to the store in the rain.  But that wasn't the end of my discombobulation.  As the work day drew to a close, I started looking for my supervisor to bring our paychecks.  It got closer and closer to quitting time, and still no paycheck.  Where was he with my paycheck???  Oh wait, it's only Thursday.  Sigh...

The good news is, there was a package waiting for me when I got home.  In said package was some yarn my mother in law sent me.


It's a really nice wool acrylic blend, and is so soft.  


It's DK weight, too, which I don't have a lot of.  I'm sure I'll find something to do with it.

Sometime between Tuesday and today, I realized I hadn't shown you the ceiling in my half bath off the master bedroom. It's as bad as the rest of the room. 


Yes, that is an actual hole in the upper right of the photo.  There are also several small bumps like the one at the bottom of the photo, just to the right of the lights.  I'm not even sure what they are.  Someone asked me if the previous owners did this job themselves.   I would have to say yes, because I can't imagine a professional doing this shoddy of a job. 

I know when I get it redone, I will be hiring a professional.  Which is why it hasn't happened yet, because those professionals don't work for free. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to browse patterns for DK weight yarn. 




Tuesday, January 17, 2017

My Bathroom

It's a good thing I got out and moved my spider lily bulbs yesterday, instead of waiting until today.  It was raining when I got up this morning.  It was raining when I went to work.  It was raining when I got off work.  It's raining now.  It's supposed to rain all day tomorrow, too.  And Thursday.  And I don't want to talk about it any more.

Since I brought up the subject of my bathroom yesterday, some of you might think I was exaggerating.  So, here are pictures to prove what I was saying.

1.  I know it's hard to see in this picture, but the top half of this wall is about 1/4 inch further back than the bottom half.  It looks like they bent the drywall to make the seams meet.  And, yes, it was stained like that already.


 2.  For some reason, instead of installing the drywall vertically, it seems to have been hung horizontally.  Therefore little lines like this go all the way around the room.  And I do mean, all the way.


3.  The drywall doesn't meet in the corners.   This is the worst one, but none of them are flush.  BTW, this picture is the closest one to the actual color of the walls.


4.  The texturing -- which is awful to begin with -- is very unevenly applied.  You can see here it is very dense. 


Just a few inches away, the wall is nearly smooth. 


5.  Here is an obvious seam between the drywall panels, in addition to the horizontal one going all the way around the room.


As you can see, it's not worth trying to fix what is there, so when I can save up enough money, I'm going to have the whole thing redone.  Completely replace the drywall, get the wiring up to code, and replace the insulation.  I'm sure it has the fiberglass stuff that was popular back in the 60s and 70s.  I want to put that expanding foam insulation in there.  I know it's more expensive, but I think it's worth the money. 

The problem is getting the money.  The good news is, I get to go in early tomorrow to do what we call picking up partials.  What that means isn't really that important to the story.  What is important is overtime.

Yay! 

Besides, who needs sleep anyway? 




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