My Kingdom for a Wrench!

Dammit. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit. 

Another (just peachy) variable in the house-building-saga would be the weather. RJ and I both have the day off today and the goal was to finish the soffit and trim on the outside of the addition. But...it's raining. And not like a-little-sprinkle-here-and-there raining. Like, a consistent drizzle and wetness all the livelong day. 

I've gotten a lot better about being patient with the inevitable wrenches that get thrown into this giant undertaking. I am not the world's most patient individual to begin with and I've had to get used to the stopping and starting of a project like this; when often you can't work on the certain project that you want to due to any number of reasons--time, money, assistance, etc. 

But today is slightly more annoying because, in about 48 hours, I leave for a six-week, out of town acting job. My first since the spring of 2013. The first since we've moved into this house. The first since I've put more of myself--physically and emotionally--into this project than most any other project of my life. I don't often miss things, or people for that matter. I'm very good at being by myself. Maybe it's being an only child growing up. But I have a strong feeling that this time I'm going to miss the whole package--the home itself, the working-on-the-home in my spare time, and the person I work on the home with. 

I also HATE leaving a smaller project unfinished. Last fall, when RJ and I were full speed ahead on the house and he'd want to stop for a break, I'd usually prolong mine until I'd finished staining or sanding a particular pile. I like to tie up my little project into a nice, neat bow or I feel mentally unfinished and a little bit sad. Ridiculous? Maybe. OCD? Probably. But you can see why living in a house with a bunch of half finished projects in it has been an adjustment for my particular personality. 

So, leaving town with such a big portion of a project half done is really HARD for me. There's a lot of stuff wrapped up into this place for me. This is serious. This is home. 

Now please excuse me while I go move some lumber into the garage while the rain takes a breather...

Hey, at least I got to do SOMETHING today. 

And I guess these yahoos are ready to come in out of the rain too...

September in Creede. Time Is On Your SIDE. (Get it? No? Keep reading.)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

September in Creede (and at CRT) is like a magical unicorn. You think you'll never see the day and then, out of nowhere, there it is. (Well...I have yet to see an actual unicorn, but I can imagine... Whatever.) Anyway...

The point is: summer is winding down here and my days are slightly more free for other things. Like the house. It's a constant project, people! And we've got about three specific projects going on at the right now, and though I thought about waiting a few more days until one was nearly completed, I remember that this is a blog about the journey, the progress, the process. So I'm writing now.

We've pretty much tapped out the small second mortgage, which is fine because save for a bit more cedar for the interior trim, we've got just about everything we need to finish up the big projects. Since we had company for a wedding a couple of weeks ago, the downstairs bathroom is about two thirds of the way done. You can do everything but take a nice, warm shower in it. And some custom switch plate action has to happen--we suffer for our unique ideas at times--but it's looking real fine.

On Monday, RJ and I finished putting up all but the gingerbread trim on the back side of the addition.

Last piece of long siding on the back!

The gingerbread will go up in that triangle at the top, and will look similar to what we have on the front, which is cream and purple. It's more consuming to make because we'll have to cut out a bunch of little cedar pieces individually. But yesterday, in spite of intermittent rain, we completed the siding and most of the priming on all sides of the addition. I'm not sure I mentioned this the first time around, but the primer is grey in order to make the red cover better. I've probably mentioned this before (I'm at the point in this project where every post is starting to feel like I'm repeating myself.) With bright colors, if you put them directly over pure white, it'll take coat after coat after coat to cover the white. If you tint the primer, you can get the look in no more than two coats. The primer is a bit of a pain. It's oil-based, for-the-outdoors which protects the wood really well from the elements. It's consistency is very thick and though you only need one coat, it is fairly laborious. I can't wait to start with the red. It'll be a easy breeeeezy.

We also took on the task of back filling the last side of the house. When you do an addition, you have to dig out a big hole so you can lay the foundation. Even if you don't have a basement, you still need to dig down so you can at least access plumbing under the house if you need to. The west side was still a pit, filled with random rocks we'd found, and a pile of dirt beside it taunting us with the threat of physical labor. For months. It was a pain to put up a ladder there because there was no even ground to balance on at all. As I was about to give RJ the first piece of siding for the west side, he said, "crap, do you think we should just go ahead and fill this in?" I agreed that we should. It'll make the whole process of putting up siding WAY easier. Off to get a shovel and away we went.  I threw more rocks in the pit (gives the soil something solid to pack down upon) and RJ shoveled dirt on top. This is the definition of hard labor folks. RJ told me a story about being in his early 20s working at the Wolf Creek Ski Area and having a 12 hour day when he just hauled 100lb oxygen tanks, among other supplies a mile up a mountain. For 12 hours. So very Greek. He also noted that he's not 25 any more...

But we did it and it's amazing.

Ahoy! It's dry and even land, Capt.!

The siding went up from there.

Yesterday, in between bouts of rain, we completed the siding on the final side. And as I write this, RJ is finishing up caulking the back side of the house and momentarily, I'll start painting! Then it's "just" soffit, gingerbread, and then onward to lower insurance rates! Wooooooooooo!

More soon, folks...

Taking a break on the back of the truck. Doo too.

This One is for Molly

A few people have asked when the next house blog post is coming, and though I'm working on it, I wanted to get this out first.

A friend of mine from Chicago, Molly Glynn, who I have known for over ten years through other friends and her husband Joe, has passed away this morning from a freak accident. She was struck by a falling tree on her daily bike ride with her husband. I have mostly dealt with death in its most natural state. Meaning someone has been ill, or very old. Something that will happen to us all eventually. This is the first truly tragic loss I have experienced. It happened to someone who was vivacious, constantly working as an actor, had two teenage sons and a marriage to another amazing Chicago actor, Joe Foust.

I can't imagine what he, and their family are feeling right now. The hole, the loss, is inconsolable. I send all the love I am capable of.

When there is nothing to do for it, or help it, all I can think of to try is this: Tonight I will, to the best of my ability, with my fellow actors by my side, help bring the play Hope and Gravity to life. It's a piece centering around a very similar tragic event, and how those around it cope with the truly inexplicable. All I can hope for, all we can ever hope for, is that this helps people understand and connect with the human condition. This is truly what art is for. To bring the everyday, sometimes miraculous and tragic nature of life to others. I will do it for Molly. And Joe. For all of them.

Update: A memorial fund has been put in place for her family. Please consider donating here.

Radiant Molly.
Photo by Michael Brosilow