by jphilo | Jun 14, 2013 | Daily Life
News flash!
The Philo School of Home Repair is proud to announce that the hall and stairway remodeling project which began in April of 2012 is finished.
Done.
Complete.
Looking good.
Ready for use.
A wonder to behold.
To be sure, the effort began with an initial spate of optimism and took 12 months longer than expected, ravished our bank account, and proved to be sexier than any home remodeling project in recorded history. These days, we call the finished product our personal stairway to heaven. (Cue Led Zeppelin music here.) It’s so heavenly, the man of steel has created his own mantra, which he repeats whenever he ascends or descend the stairway:
Oh, it feels so good on my toes.
Oh, it feels so good on my toes.
Oh, it feels so good on my toes.
He’s right. The carpet runner does feel good on the tootsies. And the hardwood floor in the upstairs hall is much cleaner and brighter than the blue-gray carpet it replaced. But, me–I’m just glad it’s finished and am ready for lavish compliments. In case our stairway to heaven as rendered you speechless, appropriate responses are listed below. Please choose one and leave it in the comment box:
A. That’s the best looking stairway I’ve ever seen.
B. If you ever think of selling your house, contact me first. I’ll pay double the asking price.
C. Send all future remodeling project bills to me.
D. All of the above
by jphilo | Dec 17, 2010 | Daily Life
The spirit of the grinch invaded our Christmas tree this year. Our saga began the Sunday after Thanksgiving, the day we traditionally decorate. It’s early, yes, but I like to get the tree and garland up so there’s extra light in the house, a mood-booster as the nights grow longer.
But our pre-lit tree, such a clever idea some years ago when first purchased, was a major disappointment as about 1/3 of the lights didn’t work. Hiram was bummed, so I tried to help by volunteering to pick up lights and string them on the bad branches. The little trick worked like a charm and we finished decorating. All was well for a week until some of the other pre-lit branches quit working.
Now, our tree is a blotchily lit spectacle.
My inner grinch rises when I look at it, but there’s no time to take off decorations, string more lights, and replace the ornaments. Of course, some beautifully wrapped presents – or any presents, for that matter – would have distracted attention away from the tree. To be perfectly accurate, there was one present beneath its untwinkling boughs. Hiram brought it home last week and plopped it down, a wide open, unwrapped box. “It’s for you,” he explained, “don’t look inside. When I objected to being home alone all day tempted by an open box, he sealed it shut with a single piece of masking tape.
Then he asked, “Is that better?”
Yesterday, I finished the Christmas shopping. One store offered free gift wrap, so I scored big there and shoved those packages under the tree as soon as I got home. Then I placed a package of nicely coordinated papers, stickers, notes, and ribbon purchased at Target next to the unwrapped box. Usually, I’m too cheap to buy pretty paper, preferring to shop the after Christmas sales and then forget where I put the paper by the time the next Christmas rolls around. I thought the pretty paper would be good motivation to wrap presents while watching Christmas specials on TV. Except our TV only gets one channel. So I’ll watch my Netflix DVD instead.
House, Season 2.
The grinch made flesh, if ever there was one. Should be quite the present-wrapping party in our living room tonight. Coordinated paper, life-threatening diseases, tree lights dying by the hour, and a pill-popping doctor diagnosing what’s wrong with the world.
Anybody want to come and join the fun?
by jphilo | Dec 21, 2009 | Reviews
St. Elsewhere, one of my all time favorite TV shows, debuted when I was pregnant with our son and ended when our daughter was in utero. The quirky story lines, the antics of the talent-laden cast (including Mark Harmon, Denzel Washington, Ed Flanders, Howie Mandel, Ed Bagley, Jr.), and irreverent tone were perfect medicine during the years when our son was hospitalized more times than we can count. Maybe it was gallows humor, but one scene with the reoccurring patient, Mrs. Hufnagel (played by Florence Halop) and the belly laughs started coming.
This fall, somebody thought I might like House. (Yes, the show’s been on for several seasons, but I’ve never been a quick study.) Since it stars Hugh Laurie, a favorite actor of our whole family since we first saw his rubber face on Masterpiece Theater’s Jeeves (Steven Fry) and Wooster (Hugh Laurie) series. One episode, and I was a fan. House has the perfect balance of medical finesse, multi-dimensional characters and humor.
No doubt, some of you are incredulous. What about ER or Gray’s Anatomy or even Scrubs? Well, ER’s too blood and guts for my squeamish stomach, and Gray’s Anatomy is too much soap opera. Scrubs tickles my funny bone sometimes, but parodies get old fast.
But Hugh Laurie as the crotchety, pain pill popping, and brilliant diagnostician is fascinating. His character, so different from the vacuous 1920s socialite Bertie Wooster he portrayed convincingly, proves his acting ability. My hope is to watch the previous seasons and see how the series develops, so I have plenty to keep me busy.
St. Elsewhere kept me sane during our son’s medical adventure. Maybe House will keep me sane during what is shaping up to be a very cold, snowy and lengthy winter. If that happens, Hugh Laurie gets my vote for sainthood.
St. Housewhere. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?
by jphilo | Jan 5, 2009 | Family
Our extended family celebrated Christmas this past weekend. Though the holiday will go down as historic for a number of reasons, including the ice storm that kept us together an extra day, the crowdedness of this gathering will always be its defining feature.
The crowdedness included: twelve people, their overnight bags, and enough groceries to feed five thousand; presents for the gift exchange, the white elephant exchange, and the ex-monk shower; three dogs, complete with doggy beds, food, and treats; and scrapbooking and art paraphernalia for the family craft day. But if the family stuff had been limited to the above list, we would have been comfortably crowded, nothing more.
But this Christmas coincided with Mom’s decision to break up housekeeping. So in addition to the normal holiday flotsam and jetsam, Mom contributed boxes and boxes of heirlooms she’d sorted and designated for kids and grandkids. Add to that the invitation for her five grandchildren (aged 16-27) and three children and spouses (ages ambiguous) to go through cupboards and closets to take what they wanted, which resulted in many more boxes of her household goodies in every nook and cranny of our house.
My nephew left Saturday morning with his car stuffed to the gills. Yesterday my brother, his wife, their two daughters, and Mom left with a pickup truck and an SUV crammed so full of Christmas treasures, they looked like the Beverly Hillbillies. Then my sister and her husband drove off, so loaded down there wasn’t even room for an extra carafe of coffee.
Our house was down to four people, but towers of boxes filled the bedrooms. The rest of my week will be devoted to making room for all we received this Christmas. The piles for the landfill and Good Will are growing and the towers of boxes are shrinking. With each item I take from the boxes, I see the dearest memories of my mother’s long life now entrusted to my family’s care.
Emotions crowd my heart, and I breathe deep. I can do this for her, I think. And so I will.
