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PPPHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Is this thing on?

Yep, dusting ye old blog off again.  

Sweet Sarah said it was time I generously grace others with my randomness and not just her all the live the long day.  So, basically that means that MOM, you get to hear me blather again!  yay for you!!!

So I plan on throwing more things up here, more often.  

For those of you who started your own support group from withdrawl, you may rejoice and rescind your membership dues.  Well, wait.  Don't rescind.  Go to Happy Hour and spend them wisely for heaven's sakes.

Now my first act as Mayor of my little blog is to hereby declare....oh shoot.  I didn't think through that before I started that sentence. [ha!  spoken like so many of our politicians these days].  Anywho, I'll get back to you when I declare something.  

In the meantime, be looking for new blog posts.

I'm actually starting my first few posts with "meant to write about that" posts.  You know, the time I took pictures so I could blog about it later and then never blogged about it?  Yeah, that's what those will be.

L'Chaim,

hs

It's all about Relationships

I keep a post it note taped to one of my computer monitors.  It's dated June 14, 2014.  I hastily scratched it down while I was on the phone with him one day.  While we were talking, their house phone started ringing.  He set down his cell phone and went to answer the ringing landline.  I could hear him answer and his one sided conversation.

"Hello Schweingrubers.....Hi Sharon.  Oh, uh-huh.  Mmm,hmmm.  Saturday?  Yep, let me check......Yep, Saturday will be perfect.  Ok.  Thanks for calling."

Then he was back on the line with me.

"Ok, Holly.  That was Dr. Cole.  She wanted us to know she gave my phone number to another couple today she diagnosed with multiple myeloma.  We're going to meet with them Saturday."  

"Oh, that's good", I replied.  Then I asked, "Don, how many people do you think you and Nance have met with over the years?"

He paused.  "Hmmm, that's a good question, Holly."  He paused again.  "I don't know.  Lots", in his western Pennsylvania accent.

"Well," I said, "I just think it's so neat that you are willing to meet with all of these people.  And that Dr. Cole can freely give your name out."

Another pause.  "Well, you know, I have been hope for a lot of people."  And that's when I grabbed whatever was in front of me and wrote it down.  He continued on, "When I was diagnosed, people didn't survive as long as I've survived."

He said it casually.  Very matter of factly.  Very Don-like.  The same way he would say, "The Steelers are having a good year." or "Well, I have nice legs."  Confident, yet telling the truth.

And this was his truth.  Don was hope for a lot of people.  For over thirteen years, his oncologist would tell newly diagnosed mutiple myeloma patients to contact Don to help ease their fears, calm their anxiety and see living proof it's possible to live a long time after diagnosis.  

He was, indeed, hope to those people.  

What hope had he given people?  Imagine being given a fatal diagnosis.  Being told, many many times....'we're in unchartered waters.  we've used all the different types of drugs there are available to fight this cancer.'  That was part of Don's journey.  He had heard those words before, yet he continued on. He lived his life.  And through his living he became Hope to many, many people.

Don's life motto was "It's all about Relationships..."  Celebrations.  Difficulties.  Life's messiness.  Life's beauty and profoundness.  Don's default starting point, no matter how big or small the conversation, was "about the relationship".  And so it didn't matter to Don that he didn't know a thing about these strangers he was going to meet Saturday.  He'd start with the relationship.

We were on the phone when he said it.  But had I been at his house, on the floor propped up next to the fireplace, like many other times, he likely would have posed it as a question.  "When you think about your life at the age of 74, what do want people to have received from you?"

He liked questions.  Kept a bucket of them in the living room.  When he thought of one, he dropped it in.  Questions are what formed the basis of getting to know scads of college women over a 15 year period.  Deep questions.  Silly questions.  Questions meant to open up space between people and allow time and fears to be suspended.

-If you were a bridge what kind of bridge would you be and why?

-If you could change your name what would it be? [In 1993, he answered "Buck".  The name stuck ever since.]

-If you could relive one year of your childhood what would it be and why?

-What's the theme song of your life right now?

I adopted this very same technique when I started in my own career in the same profession.  Questions are the ultimate icebreaker.  They're the perfect way to get a group engaged with each other.  Questions allow others to get to know each other more quickly.  And you know what happens when you ask questions?  You LISTEN for answers. Don was a listener.

And when you listen, really listen, to others it allows for a relationship to develop and grow.

In the short six months since he has passed, I've picked up my phone to call or text him countless times.  Each time, it was to ask him a question.  From very specific advice in my work to more trivial ribbing questions about his beloved Pirates/Steelers?  

Perhaps I'll start my own question bucket, if only because it'll make me a better listener.  

Buck Gruber, you are surely missed by many.  We remember you on your birthday.  And today I will pose a few good questions to others in your honor.

Sitting on Don's Memorial Bench "It's all about relationships" is inscribed in the bench.

Hauling Rock

This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year.  I finally finished it.

Basically, I was born to haul rock.  Bred for it, my daddy always said.

Pretty much I am.  I'm also genetically disposed to collect rock too.  Can't haul it, if you don't collect it.

Anywho, see these pallets of brick?  Yep, we volunteered to move these to Sweet Sarah's parents house.  It was a win-win.  They got free brick, I got them out of the backyard.  

Easy cheesy, right?  A nice Sunday afternoon loading, followed by a nice dinner at her parents' place.

This picture shows us with one pallet loaded.

We're feeling pretty good here.  Pallet loaded.  Keep on movin'.  I was BRED FOR THIS!!!!  Oh, also...if you look closely at my nose you'll see a divot.  That would be a biopsy divot for what later turned out to be a nice healthy scoop of skin cancer.  WEAR YOUR SUNSCREEN PEOPLE!

Did I mention the humidity was 129thousand percent?  And EVERY LAST LITTLE brick was encrusted with mud and worms and centipedes?  This picture was immediately taken after the above picture.  Still one pallet loaded.  And yes, that's a Budweiser St. Paddy's Day hat on my head.  Don't judge.  Free is free!

At this point, we're still smiling.  And hopeful, we will have this brick out of the backyard by the end of the day.

But lo!  An angel of reason appeared [her name is Sweet Sarah] and gently pointed out that the hitch of the Highlander was just a mere two inches off the ground with only ONE pallet loaded.

Time to assess.

Post assessment, I determined we would re-distribute the weight of the first pallet aaaannnnddddd.....KEEP ON LOADING!!!!

But lo! The angel of reason RE-APPEARED!  She gently pointed out that even with the weight re-distributed the trailer was no SUDDENLY close to the ground.

SIGH.  Time to re-assess.

The angel of reason was right [she usually is, but don't tell her].  The SUV nor the trailer could handle any more weight.  

Dang it.  This was supposed to be a ONE DAY PROJECT!!!!  

[If it all turned out happy and easy, what would I write about?  And what would our would entertain our mothers?]

Well, let's just say this didn't end the way we had hoped.  It was a TWO Sunday afternoon project, in which we had to bribe our niece's fiance to help us finish.  It also cost us two trailer rentals, major tire ruts in the green grass and the worst of it being Sweet Sarah 3 chiropractor visits, 3 spine specialist visits, 6 physical therapy sessions and countless hours limping around.  

A win-win for sure. They got a patio.  I got a broken wife.

I, on the hand, was bred for it.  

The end.  

Yep, yep, yep....it's been a while

Thought it was time to get back on the blog-wagon.  For all of my faithful readers....I mean, for my mom.  THE reader.  I mean, Sweet Sarah has to live with my running commentary all the time.  I'm pretty sure the only reason she reads my blog is to make sure I haven't publicly embarrassed her and to point out my egregious exaggeration in story telling or spelling errors.  

So, MOM!  I'M BACK!!!!!

Let's see, let's see.....where to begin???  I'm thinking a stroll through my photo library.

So here we go....no telling where this will take us.  

Oh!  I made these.  Completely ROCKED OUT an Auntie Anne's soft pretzel recipe.  No exaggeration here either.  Sweet Sarah told me mine were BETTER than Auntie Anne's.  That's a WIN PEOPLE!

And oh!  We celebrated this lovely lady's 90th birthday!!!!  Ridiculous isn't it?  NINETY!!!!  Her spunk and humor and fun spirit have always been such an inspiration.

I have a new office mate.  Lebowski has decided it's VERY important to be present on the days I'm working from home.  Sometimes his snoring interrupts my conference calls.  I don't mind sharing the office, but he NEVER takes his turn emptying the trash.

And sometimes I have to share with Teddy.  But only when he schedules video conferences during the workday.  [Seriously, this is how he decided to sit in my lap while I was on a video conference.]  And also, don't judge me for having suggestive alcoholic beverage art in my office....everyone gets inspiration to get through the work day a little differently.

And this???  Well, these two are the CUTEST TWO IN-LAWS you ever did see!!  It was a 3 year old birthday celebration and they were RIGHT THERE ROCKING IT OUT!  Love them!

And Sweet Sarah almost peed her pants she was so excited about being in Chicago the same weekend as the NFL draft.  That was a ton o' fun.  [A little commentary:  while I'm in full support of taking safety measures because of head injury, this seems a little extreme to me, don't you think?]

I suited up for the combine, but somehow my lightning speed and towering height didn't get me much.  I'm back among the common folk, slogging it out during the work day.  

And for a finale, how about the way we roll at a Spann Family gathering.  CLASSY, CLASSY, CLASSY!  

Until next time!  

Master Bath Renovation

On January 1, we marked four full years at The Drayer.  It was well past time to take our 1980's bathroom through a transformation.  I had been plotting this project for a while---looking forward to the end result, but dreading part of it simply because it was going to be a BRILLIANT project or a complete disaster [more on that later].

As luck would have it, Sweet Sarah got very sick the day before we were scheduled to start.  While, I don't think she wanted to be sick, I do think she was secretly relieved she wasn't being dragged through this project with me.

Ok, so let's look at what was in front of me.  In typical Drayer fashion, I was starting with a Kaminski.  This is the verb/adjective/adverb/noun we use when un-doing or re-doing any of the projects of the former owners of The Drayer.  Think lipstick on a pig.  

Here's a quick example.  

 This is what was revealed when I removed the commode tank.  Really?  REALLY?!  They took off 238 square feet of wallpaper and left this attractive swath for me.  Yep, a Kaminski move.

Oh!  Here's another one.  Found behind the towel rack.  

Right.  So, that's just a bit of what I was going to attack.

So here's some before pics.

The marble shower is great.  We also love the cabinets and counters.  

Remember this shot.  It's critical.  Oh!  And that's said towel bar hiding the beauteous wall paper.

This is a shot from the commode corner.  I believe the wallpaper was lurking behind me just waiting to be discovered.

Beautiful cabinets, right?

At first I didn't mind the wall color.  It felt clean and bright.  But Sweet Sarah was having none of it.  Even when we looked at the house she said it felt cold.

The longer we lived here, the more this nasty grouted tile grossed me out.  I won't even bless you with a close-up.  Nasty. Nasty.  And no amount of scrubbing or bleaching or vinegaring or Pinterest-ing concotions helped.

Thought I'd throw that back in.  Blech.

Ok, so here's where the project starts.  I started with wall paint.  It must be known...I LOVE to paint.  LOVE, LOVE, LOVE till my daddy takes my t-bird away love it.  In fact, I have completed a painting project every January 1st since 1999.  Rooms in my house or helping friends. Yep, it's just something I've always done.  I love to paint.  And I'm good at it.  No tape, no cheater tools.  Just me and my 3 inch brush trim, trim, trimming away on New Year's Day.  Have brush will travel.

ok, don't you DARE judge those disheveled shelves.  You can't really see the color here, but you can tell how different the cabinets look with the new color.
Oh!  and don't judge the burned out bulb.  PEOPLE!  I have priorities, you know.

Here's a better shot of the color.  This is two coats and the walls are done.  

Next up....brilliance or disaster.

Painting the floor tile.

This is me prepping the tile.  This is where it was a matter of degrees between brilliance and disaster.  After much sifering, I decided we weren't quite ready to rip out all of the tile and replace it.  [yes, yes, I was going to semi-Kaminski and put my own lipstick on this pig!]  Don't get me wrong, it'd make all the difference in there to put down a new floor, but the frugal mennonite in me would rather not go that far if I don't have to.

So....I did a little research and I learned it can be done.  Besides, as I justified to Sweet Sarah, while she sat on the couch curled in the fetal position and sounding like she may have deposited a lung during her last coughing jag, "What do I have to lose but my time? " If it doesn't work, we replace the tile.  If it works, I've saved a few thousand dollars.  Sounds like good economics to me!

First, I had to sand all of the tile.  All of it.  Let me remind you, how MUCH tile that is.  Scroll up five pictures.  Go on.  Scroll, scroll.

You're back?  SEE!  It's a LOT of tile.

Once, I sanded, I started the painting.  I was using a concrete garage floor paint.  It was challenging to say the least.  And remember, how I said I loved to paint?  Well, two things.....this project temporarily tempered my love to paint.  And this garage floor paint has the consistency of stain.   So painting it on a vertical surface was more of a challenge than I anticipated.  And because it was so thin, it also guaranteed that two coats were absolutely necessary.

 Here's an action shot.  I think Sweet Sarah ventured upstairs for a few minutes before retreating downstairs.  Kind of a duck  and cover action on her part.

Trimmed and ready to roll.

This is the first coat.  You can see how thin and spotty it is.  I spent several hours on my hands and knees on this cold tile.  To say I was stiff the next few days is an understatement.

Once I got the first coat down, I came up for air and headed down stairs to relax a bit.  Sweet Sarah went up to check out my progress.  Just as I was sinking into my chair I heard

"Oh gosh.  Oh goodness.  BABE!!!!!!"

I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.  Away to the stairs I flew like a flash.  Tore down the hall and looked at the sash.

Yep!  Those are kitty prints.

It appeared that since I had vacated the room Teddy thought he should inspect my work.  Oh!  And look out the window too.

Check out his path.  

From the door to the toilet.  On the toilet he leaned to the sash.  Clever.

I tried to get him to recreate the shot.  He was having none of it.  

After recovering from Teddy Beuhler's adventures I was ready to start a second coat.

Actually, I'd like to say it was that easy and quick.  I waited 24 hours to put on the second coat.  The second coat went on much easier, but still didn't instill complete confidence in me that it was going to work.  It didn't appear that it was adhering to the tile and hardening like I thought it would.  But I pressed on.

Two coats down and then a seven day waiting period.  SEVEN DAYS!  Clearly, the scientists at Behr paints don't know I have the patience of a gnat.  And can't wait seven days for ANY project I'm working on.  Luckily, that little thing called work got in my way, so the seven days clipped by pretty well.  Sharing the guest bath the size of a closet, not so much.

The other factor that added to my patience quota was not having all of the supplies on hand to complete the project.  We were waiting for the shipment of our rock wall to arrive before we could put the finishing touches and call it a wrap.

Now, I'd like to say that Sweet Sarah and I installed stacked stone rock by rock to create the beautiful wall you see below.  But the truth is we installed stacked stone panel by panel.  All six of them.  Check it out!

Ok, give us a little credit.  While we werent mixing mortar and hand selecting each rock, we did have to pull out the circular saw and measure and use liquid nails and everything!  And in spite of the fact that not a single wall in The Drayer is square, we were able to trim and level and get this done with only three band aids and two sets of steri-strips.  Oh yes!  It was one of those, it happened so fast and I didn't even know how I did it moments.  But you know, go big or go home!  I got not one, but TWO fingers.  Right through the pads of my index and middle fingers.   I can't be sure, but I think Sweet Sarah had to put her head between her knees for a moment.

You know, most women couldn't have stood it.  Luckily, I'm not most women.

Once I got the bleeding stopped, we were back on track and we really couldn't believe how easy it was to install.  And I'm still impressed with how realistic it looks.  I mean think back to the fake brick paneling that we used to slap up in the 70's.  Wow, home improvement you've come so far!

So, all in all the projected lasted over the course of about ten days.  Not too bad.  And not too shabby results.  I'm still worried about the floor.  It has continued to harden over the last week.  But I'm just not sure how it will take the wear and tear.  I guess time will tell.  For now, it's just lipstick on a pig.  Except this time, the lipstick was done right.

See what you think.

Homegoods rocked out the accessories selections!

I made these shelves for $9 each.
And my basement Michael's store is always helpful to put displays together.

I will add another shelf over the commode, but Lowe's was out of the pipe I needed.

Tomato Jam???

Yep, you read it right.  Jam.  As in a derivative of jelly.  Out of tomatoes.  Not kidding.

So stick with me here.  

Sweet Sarah and I had dinner at our local Peachtree Tavern the other night.  And in sweet, southern fashion they were serving seasonal fried green tomatoes.  They were heavenly.  Cooked perfectly, just like my grandma used to make.  But what really put these babies over the top?  A dollop of tomato jam.  

I had never had tomato jam before, so I was curious as to what type of flavor it would have.  It was the perfect mix of sweet and savory.  I knew I needed to figure out how to make this goodness.

After a little research and reviewing of recipes, I learned that this jam is best made with season ending tomatoes.  Once I found a recipe, down to the farmers market we went to buy some tomatoes.  

I used this recipe which I found on Pinterest.  

http://www.garnishwithlemon.com/2013/10/10/sweet-and-tangy-tomato-jam/

We have been finding all kind of uses for it.  Grilled cheese, apple tomato jam sandwiches.  Pulled pork sandwiches.  I even made little danishes.  Crescent rolls from the pack, a schmear of tomato jam and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese.  Delish!

It's Fall Y'all!

That's right!  Fall at The Drayer means many, many things.  First and foremost, all things pumpkin.  And I do mean ALL things!  Cookies, waffles, pancakes,.....wait for it, wait for it......english muffins!  OHMYLANTA!!!  Have you all been as blessed as us to discover these seasonal little rounds of bread heaven?  Well, if you haven't don't go looking for them.  It only means more for me!

Anywho, back to fall.  The cool, crisp, air immediately brings on my nesting instinct.  And given the fact that nearly every third night this summer has felt like a fall evening, it's amazing I haven't burned through a case of harvest spice candles.  Who's with me on this one?

So the nesting thing?  It's serious.  It immediately requires that I change out all chajtkes in the house.  Goodbye all things summer, zesty, happy, sunshiney, bust-me-up-outta-this-house-been-cooped-up-all-winter so I must put out gerbera daisies and vibrant color garb that inspires me to garden.  No hard feelings, but it's time to GO!

It's like a Miracle Mile Christmas Display window change out around here.  There's planning and designing.  No two years can be the same.  There's perusing and sifering on design and style.  One minute it's summer in here, the next minute The Drayer is seven layers of Harvest Paradise.  Up from the cellar basement come the totes of packed away knickety knacks that make you want hot cider and the urge to dunk your head in a bucket of water to come up with an apple.  What?  No?  You don't feel like that when you see fall leaves, smell apple goodness-ey candles?  That's just me?  Whatever.  Just whatever.  

Ok, back to the nesting thing.  Pretty much you can also bet the farm that fall requires me to take on some sort of new craft.   Sometimes these are nice and easy, slap some hot glue on a dried flower, tie a bow on it, call it a day projects.  Other times....well "Woe unto those that reside at The Drayer!"  Sometimes, shall we say, I might get a little over the top.  [typically, this type of craft tend to comes around Christmas and revolves around the annual Sister Christmas Craft.  Or as my brothers-in-law lovingly refer to it "Christmas Crap".   A post for another day, but let's just sum it up with it's all about the competition].

And what did this year's creative juices bring forth, you ask?  Nothing to crazy or creative, but I'm pleased nonetheless.  Basically, I reproduced an idea I snarfed off Pinterest.  I had everything on hand so it was easy peazy and not one single breathing being steered clear of the creative aura I was exuding.  [happy thoughts this year!]

I've had this Ikea easel gathering dust in the basment since our wedding reception.  [Yes, I inherited a gene from my grandmother that requires me to keep anything, and I DO mean anything, that might result in an opportunity to use it creatively in a craft.  My grandma used to keep the stryofoam tray from her hamburger meat.  And guess who learned how to sew on those trays?  Yep, yours truly.  Mom, that may explain my really, really incompetent sewing skills!  Epiphany!!!!  But those trays also came in really handy as paint trays.]  I digress.  

Said easel.  

I decided to chop off the legs to use the chalkboard over the mantel.  [Sweet Sarah would insist that SHE chopped off the legs using the compound miter saw.  She LOVES that thing.  Of course, who doesn't?] 

Here it is with no legs and the first seasoning treatment.  I had forgotten how messy chalk is!  After two seasonings it was a fairly decent chalk board.

Then I chalked this.  

It turned out pretty cute.  But when I put it on the mantel against our yellow walls the frame looked awful.  Sweet Sarah suggested I paint it gray.  So down to the Michael's store I went.  And by Michael's store I mean the basement where there may or may not be enough crafting materials and chajtkes to outfit a store.  

Ahem.  

I didn't have gray, but a quick mixing of what I had on hand and Voila!  Gray-ish.

Here's the finished mantel.  Looks cute and I'm excited to have this handy little chalkboard to use after fall too!

Gotta go!  Chocolate chip Pumpkin Cookies in the oven!!