In a mere 20 days, our first born touches down at MSP and we get to meet Emily. Yay!  Three short days later, our baby marries Jeff.  Yay!   But before that, we have the small matter of completing the bathroom renovation. Started in November 2011, although discussed since July 1995, we are finally approaching critical mass.

Given the ridiculous amounts of rain falling here, not to mention the mudslide at 694 and Lexington today, we’re happy to report that the orange water barrier membrane thingie is now in place in the new bathroom and we’re ready to set (the tile).

We took a break for mother’s day, but when the aromatic flowers did a number on my allergies, we set them on the porch.  Makes a meta frame worthy view, no?  That frame once held the stained glass window that’s now in the bathroom (see previous post).

Will we complete the bathroom in time? Someone has his doubts, but not me!

You know the guy on the DIY show “Bath Crashers”? The guy whose mission it is to crash and trash bathrooms, transforming them into stunning, functional and modern living spaces? He’s a Minnesotan who ambushes homeowners while they’re home improvement shopping. How he managed to miss Gene — who makes countless trips to various hardware stores every week — is beyond me. The Minneapolis Star Tribune says the Bath Crasher host, who lives in Minneapolis, “remodeled 91 bathrooms in 2010 and very nearly ran himself into the ground doing it.” We’re remodeling one bathroom (down from two) and we started five months ago. The clock is ticking. Family members (yay db and em) inspire us to make it “Bathtastic” (another DIY show) before their arrival, two short months from now. The original plan was to remodel the 1950s era bathrooms when we bought this place 15 years ago. Two high school graduation open houses, undergrad and grad school graduations came and went. But we’re determined to complete this before the first wedding (those two short months from now referenced above - yay eb and jd). Here’s our progress to date.

The way it was. Paneling, mismatched fixtures and all.

Goodbye toilet and tub

Goodbye vanity

Hello Percy!

Finally! The stained glass window of a window we commissioned and hung in our first house in Maryland, now installed in Minnesota. More significantly, the lights are installed as well and Gene’s putting up the first piece of ceiling (I helped).

Now for the Rube Goldberg-esque shower piping:

Framing in the shower walls.  Look!  Gene built a bench!!

Insulation time!  It is Minnesota after all. And it will make it quieter too.

Before drywall:

The trickiest piece of drywall:

Some of the drywall installed!

But we still have time to observe visitors to our back yard — we have tenants in the wood duck house Gene put up last fall!  Here’s the dad:

And finally, we were happy to be indoors when this wall cloud passed over the Stone Arch and  35 W bridges last week.

I’m listening to pundits (who are, it seems to me, rarely if ever right) telling me that Gingrich winning South Carolina’s primary is actually a good thing for the President so I’m trying to be upbeat.

Then, I hear that Rick, don’t Google his last name, Santorum is speaking at a Florida church today. First, I ask myself, “why don’t churches lose tax exempt status when they promote partisan political candidates?” and then I say, wait a minute, the preacher at the church in question is the one who thinks “Gays make God vomit.”

This give me pause for a two reasons:

1. God vomits?  He (well, she) is God — wouldn’t she be able to control vomiting? What the preacher said was homosexuality makes God want to vomit. Well if God wants to vomit, that’s her prerogative I suppose. Personally, now hold on to your cookies, this is a big revelation:  I’m against vomiting.
2. Wow. Gays are powerful!

If only one of the above points is true, I hope to god it’s the second.

In recent months, I’ve begun to think more about Richmond, Virginia than ever before. I’d passed through there a time or two but, beyond remembering that my cousin Sanfred’s mother-in-law was Selma Fink of the Richmond Finks (right, Fred?), I never gave it much thought. Now, however, three things have coalesced in my consciousness and they all revolve around Richmond. Happily, none of these three things relate to Eric Cantor who, alas, “represents” that district in Congress.

Rather, what brings me to write about Richmond is a wonderful young person by the name of Emily May. More on her in a bit. First the other two ditties about Richmond.

On yesterday’s CBS Sunday Morning, Bill Geist, as only he could do, shared his experiences on the Tacky Lights Bus Tour of Richmond. ‘Nuf said. See for yourself if you dare.

Today, I happened on a podcast that introduced me to Elizabeth Van Lew, a Richmond woman who, during the Civil War, feigned insanity and was the city pariah. So convincing was she, that no one suspected she was running a spy ring for the Union. They called her “Crazy Bet.” After the war, she met General Grant who thanked her for her service. Once he became President, Grant named her Postmaster. And why not? She had certainly proven her abilities at delivering messages. She’s even a member of the military intelligence hall of fame. At the time of her induction, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t oxymoronic. Further making me a fan of this woman is the fact that she sponsored and opened a library for African Americans in 1876 Richmond. I can only imagine what died in the wool confederates made of that.  If I’ve whetted your appetite to learn more about Elizabeth Van Lew, you can read more about her here.

But the primary reason for writing today, is to encourage you and everyone you know to look at the great work Emily May does. This Richmond native is building a movement to end street harassment. In its first year as a 501(c)3 (nonprofit organization), Hollaback! has grown from 5 to 45 cities. What started in New York City is now in 16 countries in 9 languages. Emily is a social entrepreneur of the highest magnitude. Can you tell I’m impressed? So is Time Magazine. They call her a game changer. Watch this (after the a 15 second ad, sorry): Game Changer: Emily May.  Idea mensch wrote a great profile of her too — http://ideamensch.com/emily-may/.  I’m privileged to be her go-to proposal prep person (a/k/a writer/editor). If you want to have a Happy Holladay…you would do well to donate to Hollaback!  Thanks!

You’d be forgiven if you didn’t naturally think of the connection between politics and plumbing. And I’m not talking “Joe the Plumber” here, although I see that he really is running for Congress (holy Toledo, indeed).

As good old Tip O’Neill said, all politics is local.  And so it is that our home’s infrastructure needs must be addressed. Today.

It’s Election Day in New Brighton and we’ll be casting our ballots for mayor (Bob), city council (Mary and Paul) and school board (John). Yes, really typical first names, I know. Go Benke, Burg, Jacobsen and Hakes! This is Minnesota, after all. But first, Gene is picking up the new toilet we (by that I mean he) painstakingly researched. I accompanied him for an entire day when it came time to actually look at the things up close as opposed to online. Who knew there were so many plumbing places and bathroom showrooms in Minneapolis/St. Paul?

When we bought our house (15 years ago already), we figured the first thing we’d do is update the bathrooms. Then we thought, surely we’ll have them done in seven years, for David’s high school graduation. No? OK, by the time Ellen finishes. Wrong again. Both have completed college and more. So the family infrastructure is solid. The house? Not so much.

We’re making progress though, and helping the economy to boot. The insulation project is finally complete and we were even sorry to see the stucco guy go. He was a cross between Murphy Brown’s “Eldon” and Tom Poston’s character on Newhart. Quite the chatterduck, but also quite the professional. An artisan, and of the same political bent as we.

Now we’ve fixed our sights on the bathrooms. The one in the basement first. Why the previous owners thought it was a good idea to fashion this small space like a sauna (sans sauna), we’ll never know. I guess they were going for “rustic.” Rough hewn wood paneling, duck wallpaper and leaf motif ceramic tiles accompany completely mismatched fixtures. Perhaps they got a deal as purchasers of the first-of-its-kind home Jacuzzi. It’s vintage, circa 1960 and copper-colored. More like rust, actually. Older than my first car, an equally strange beast, was that similarly hued 1974 Gremlin, but I digress.

So now it’s time to unpack the new toilet and see what we’ve got. Then we’ll think more about politics. Locally, that includes talk of a new Vikings stadium with retractable roof.  How about something like this?

Minnesota in autumn: people and animals warm to indoor life. This includes mice. Fortunately for us, Percy is on pest patrol. Unfortunately, it was 3 a.m. when he asked us to move some drawers so he could continue the hunt.

Mouse, what you doin’ in the sewing machine?

Come on outta there!

Gotcha!

Have Smurfs arrived at Pike Lake?

uh oh. is that the hand of Gargamel?

the last of season broccoli and tomato

bye bye birdies!

Only problem: these silly geese were last seen flying North.

A Geezer and Geese

Just an excuse here to post some photos of beautiful people and things.  First up: not your average-looking Minnesota soccer team. These young women are way above average — they’re champs!  Congratulations to Ellen and her teammates.  Don’t be put off by their sponsor’s name — it’s the largest Mexican Bakery in the world.

Next, this bumblebee checking out our broccoli flower!

And now for the young golden eagle on the telephone wires oblivious to the fearless squirrel who seemed determined to stash the walnut he held in his mouth. 

Finally, for now, water on the bench.

Pundits galore waxed poetic over the Arab Spring. Now, finally, some pundits think themselves clever by dubbing Occupy Wall Street demonstrations “the American Fall.”  Not only did they arrive late to cover this legitimate, grassroots movement, but the nomenclature they choose is troublesome. Words matter. It’s almost as if they’re wanting a fall/fail. Why not call it the American Autumn? A time for harvests and, for me anyway, a time of reflection and renewal.

Yes, they’re MacIntoshes. And no, they’re not low hanging fruit. We’re done with that literally and figuratively.

If Steve Jobs taught the world nothing else, it was that reaching and stretching and thinking beyond what others deride and dismiss is not only worthwhile, it is mandatory. Low hanging apples?  Never!

Some people (The Onion) think Jobs was the last American who knew WTF he was doing. But I think Alan Grayson is back and the era of going after low hanging fruit is over. I’m heartened to see my fellow librarians in action. Join us, won’t you?