Vacuuming

The best thing ever in the history of the world is happening to me right now. I'm eating natural peanut butter from Trader Joe's (straight from the jar) while our Roomba cleans my floors.

Several months ago, my roommate bought a robot vacuum cleaner called a Roomba. During the first use, the glorious piece of technology failed us by thinking it was stuck under a chair while in the middle of the room. Poor thing.

So my roommate called the Roomba company and they offered her the low low price of $100 for a new roomba upgrade. She jumped at the chance.

Now we own a new upgraded model that is loyally and robotically sweeping its way past my feet. I find myself cheering it on, outloud. "Come on buddy! You can do it! That TV stand is no match for you! You can do it!"

And sure enough, it weasels itself loose and with complete dedication, continues to free the floors of cat hair.

I love this roomba. As I write, my roommate is familiarizing me with her favorite TV shows from the late 90's. While I listen, my house is being vacuumed. My dumb cat runs by, shedding with each step of chubby little body, and the Roomba, in it's magnificence, mocks him.

Tonight, because of the Roomba I get to...

Enjoy a cocktail.

Watch DVDs of a sock puppet show.

Watch my cat struggle between the desire to attack or freak out.

Eat Peanut butter out of the jar.

I love being a homeowner in the 21st century.

It's Curtains for Ya

I may or may not be a domestic genius...but I probably am.

My bedroom windows have curtains, and guess what? I sewed them!!!! No pattern, no preplanning, no real focus at all. But they look great.

Sometimes life smiles on good people. Sometimes planets align and the dice land in your favor. Sometimes fate gently rocks you in her arms and reads you "Goodnight Moon" while butterflies gently brush your feet with velvety wings. Sometimes written imagery gets a little weird.

But one of the most important things I've learned while being a homeowner is that I'm capable of a lot more than I thought I was. I think most people don't even attempt DIY projects, but the more I do, the more I realize I CAN do. I have drywalled. I have ripped up my own carpets. I have even demolished an entire plaster wall. Granted, none of these projects were fun. In fact I've started the tradition of crying uncontrollably during each DIY project. But after I've wiped away the tear stains that have rolled through the plaster dust on my cheeks, I feel strong.

I'm no super woman. Anyone can do these projects. It just takes time...and the desire.

So the curtains in my bedroom are gently blowing in the breeze as I speak. I'm a domestic genius!!!

...Though the disintegrating mortar under the kitchen window will continue to laugh at me. I will get you mortar! I will learn how to point brick!...but not today, I'm scared. Today, I am just a genius with new curtains!

What's That Mysterious Smell?

Lets face it, sometimes your house smells weird and you have no idea why.

Last night I came home. Heaved my bike up the front steps and unlocked the first door. Rolled my Schwinn clunker into the portico. Unlocked the second door. Opened the second door.

Wham.

It hit me.

"What is that smell?" I said out loud, though my roommate had left for the airport hours before.

Let the search begin. I turned every light in the house on with absolute certainty that the culprit would be illuminated. Cat puke, maybe, or a dead mouse. I wanted to be prepared so I imagined the worst.

I vacuumed, dusted, opened windows, looked under every piece of furniture...nothing. The cat playfully rolled around on the floor, grabbing my attention. I glared at him. He glared back, daring me to find evidence to prove his guilt.

Still nothing. So I went to bed.

This morning I didn't smell anything weird. Even this evening everything smells normal. Has the smell gone? Or...(horror scream!) have I become one of those people who doesn't know her house stinks!

My Aunt and Cousin are visiting this weekend. Will they love me enough to be honest?

How to Hang Window Boxes

If you want to make friends with people on your block, work on the front of your house.

Because I don't have the masonry skill to point the brick that needs pointing (look for a blog on that soon though!) and I lack a yard to landscape, my front of house renovation relied entirely on two very capable window boxes.

I've wanted to hang window boxes for months and have even had window boxes sitting my basement just begging to wow the neighborhood (Christmas gift from my delightful Aunt Connie). They're black cast iron, sturdy and adorable! But I just haven't had the time or the know-how to attach them to the brownstone beneath the window sill. According to my contractor cousin, Geoff (not Jeff), it takes a special drill bit and special screws and blah, blah, blah (I loose concentration when people talk about tools for too long).

So, I went to Lowe's to see what help they could offer.

Not much.

But I did have a hilarious interaction with one employee named Dave who advised me to seal the screw hole with "Cah-ahleck".

"What is cah-ahleck?" I asked.

"It's this white stuff that comes in a tube and you use this gun thing to squeeze it out into cracks and stuff." He answered.

"Oh, you mean caulk?" I offered.

"Yes, cock." he bashfully responded.

We blushed then uncomfortably went our separate ways.

So by the time I left Lowe's I had a new masonry drill bit, 3 1/4" long masonry screws that can hold up to 500 lbs each and a renewed sense of confidence in Geoff's advice. But when I got home I discovered that my Porter Cable cordless drill didn't have enough "gusto" as they say in show biz.

So, back to Lowe's (for the 4th time this week) to rent an electric drill that, according to the rental guy, drilled through iron.

This guy is a liar.

It took a total of 3 hours to drill 4 holes. And the 3 1/4" long screws were out of the question, so I convinced myself that if "cah-ahlecked" properly, 1 1/2 " masonry screws would be totally sufficient.

And my window boxes look darling!

Helpful Tips to Remember:

Use a masonry drill bit and make sure it's the one you need to drill the correct sized hole for the screw you're using. I used a 3/16" drill bit for my 1/4" screws.

If drilling into brick, drill into the mortar.

If drilling into brownstone, become a person of prayer.

After drilling the hole and before drilling in the screw, squeeze a little bit of caulk (or whatever you want to call it) into the hole to protect it from erosion.

Updates

The School with the banner "We Made Adequate Yearly Progress in 2005" has replaced the banner with an advertisement for the school's Spring production of "The Wiz". I will not be attending.

The Rooster has grown more daring and has taken to sitting outside the bathroom window, taunting my cat.

The Rooster in My Backyard

I have a rooster in my backyard. It crows early in the morning. When it crows it wakes up the neighbor's baby. When the baby cries it wakes up the other neighbor's dog. When the dog barks it wakes up my cat. When my cat screams it wakes me up. When I yell at the cat I wake up my roommate. What a way to start the day.

The first time I heard the rooster crow was about a week after I moved in. It was a sweltering August day and every window was opened as wide as it could go. The stale city air lazily meandered into my bedroom as the early morning light peaked over the flat rooftops. My dreams, as always, were filled with walls to paint, carpets to rip up and ceilings to mend...a dreamworld uncomfortably close to reality.

Just as I was demolishing a dreamy plaster wall and desperately gasping for a dust-free breath of air, a rooster popped out from behind my door. My dreams are weird, but this was ridiculous. I raised my hammer to scare the rooster away and simultaneously jerked myself out of my dream and back into my bedroom. I lowered my arm (still raised at the rooster) and re-closed my eyes when the sound came.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" or more realistically, "Er-er-ahh-err-errr!"...every 37 seconds.

Seriously? Did I just buy a house next to a rooster? Did I SERIOUSLY just move next door to a rooster? In the middle of the city? A ROOSTER?!!!!?

The answer? Yes I did. And he made it through the winter. This spring he is back with a vengeance! Like the phantom of the Opera, reeking havoc in the theatre, this piece of poultry roams the concrete plots of back "yard" mercilessly claiming his authority.

Maybe I should find a nice single hen to keep him company. Think they sell that on Craig's List?

Is This a Good Neighborhood or Not?

My realtor was kind enough to educate me on the signs of a good neighborhood so I kept these things in mind while house hunting. I made sure my house wasn't within a few blocks of a quick check cashing place. Apparently this is a sign of low-income neighborhoods. I also steered clear of sneakers draped over telephone lines. Apparently this is a sign of drug trafficking. I made sure my new address wasn't near a cheap take-out beer joint. Apparently this is a sign of drunk homeless people. And I made sure my house didn't share the block with any abandoned houses. Apparently this is a sign of low-resale value.

But I recently discovered a nugget of beauty. A sign I had completely overlooked and upon discovery was almost too entertained to be disappointed in my choice of housing location.

The local school proudly displays a giant banner over their front door. This banner has a message so powerful that some school administrator went through the trouble of going to the local print shop, proudly scribbling down the desired words and punctuation, waiting with bated breath for the day they could pick up the finished product, then meticulously mounting a 15 foot ladder to drill holes into the tough mortar of the school's brick exterior. This gem of a message, this proud exclamation states that (and I quote), "WE MADE ADEQUATE YEARLY PROGRESS IN 2005!"

"Adequate" progress? Is adequate progress actually banner worthy? Is it something you want to brag about? And what about the 5 years that have taken place after 2005 or the countless years before 2005? The fact that this school was proud enough to print a banner with this message and cap it all off with an EXCLAMATION POINT t brought to mind one thought: Apparently this is a sign (literally) of a really bad school system.