Deck is done - Who's ready to party????

After the pressure washer incident and injury, Phil finally got us on track after two - count 'em - two 60 mile round trips to get it fixed. 

What about those nasty furniture covers? Generic spray mildew remover, soap and water, scrub brush, elbow grease, some sunshine and see what happens...

Before

After

And that mildewed, disgusting, "maintenance-free" composite deck?

Before

 After

We may have a pressure washer, but cleaning this massive deck and all the items on it was still back-breaking work. Take a look and see if it was worth it! I think it looks pretty damn good!

Before (mid- April)

After

Before

After

Before

After

You probably think I'm crazy to have white cushions outside. Even though we keep them covered, they still manage to get dirty. Actually, going white was one of the smartest things I've done. When we bought the furniture about nine years ago, the cushions were a dark, burnt sienna-type color. After 4 years, they naturally faded and looked worn. I bought white, sunbrella material online and took the cushions and material to a guy that makes custom cushion covers for boats. It wasn't cheap (about $700) but he did a fabulous job. With white I never have to worry about fading and can use the mildew cleaner that contains bleach. They are now 5 years old, and I bet I can get another 5 years out of them.

P.S. Phil's arm finally stopped bleeding with the help of a gazillion butterfly stitches and gobs of gauze and bandages. It's a tough contest as to who, between the two of us, is the most clutsy - we both seem to excel in this area.

Next project -
Take a look at our lower patio.

Shameful. We were perusing the clearance section in Lowe's tile department and lo and behold...cheap (really nice) indoor/outdoor tile! At $.63 each we (meaning I) couldn't pass it up. Phil is probably saying to himself, "Do I have to have another hernia operation to get some rest around here?" Well, after lifting twelve boxes of these tiles he may need another trip to the doctor!

Stay tuned. Where Patti and Phil renovate or revive - shisnick follows! 

Spring cleaning...are we having fun yet?

We planted this 29 years ago. It was about 8 inches high then.

There are lots of reasons why people both love and hate spring in Georgia. On the positive side, the flowers are a painter's palette displaying the glory of nature renewed. The weather is becoming pleasant and people and objects are "thawing out".  We human hibernators are coming out of our caves to enjoy the sun's warmth. It also means school employees are getting near the light at the end of the tunnel. YAHOO!

The downsides of spring are that if you are afflicted with allergies you are most likely spewing, hacking, watering and all the other gross things that the pollen will cause you to do, yard work is back on the weekend schedule, and those five to ten pounds packed on from lollygagging on the couch watching the Food Network now need to come off before donning the bathing suit. I, for one, love spring and the opportunity to be outside. However, spring means some heavy duty work.

We installed a composite deck about 10 years ago thinking that there would not be any maintenance (at least that was how it was advertised). Unfortunately we purchased this material in its pioneer stage. It certainly had not been perfected yet - meaning THEY LIED ABOUT THE MAINTENANCE!

So for now, our renovating (or reviving) will focus on getting the deck, grills (note plural, as in three -  remember my husband with the nails in the crown molding? If one is good then 30 must be better? Same concept with tools and grills) and outdoor furniture ready for summer. Everything needs a spring cleaning. And by the way - best gift I ever gave my husband...a pressure washer. If you own a home and don't have one - get one. You won't be sorry - except of course when the water bill comes due.

"Before" pictures say it all:

In the winter, even the fans (plural again as in three...sigh) get covered.

Maintenance-free my ..."foot"!

Is that disgusting or what? Combination of tree gunk, dirt, pollen and mildew.

The three grills waiting for summer barbecues.

Under the blue tarps is wood for the fireplace, which has to be carried off the deck to the edge of the property. Who needs a gym when you can get an arm workout for free in your backyard? Should have made more fires this winter.

So here's how I see it. We buy covers to protect the furniture so we don't have to clean the cushions, grills etc, but then we work like dogs to clean the covers. Does anyone else see this as stupid?

Even with all the cleaning to do, I love this time of year. It's almost like everything has been asleep under the blankets and is now ready to wake up and face the warmth and sunshine.

So let the scrubbing begin!

P.S. Just as I was espousing the virtues of owning a pressure washer the darn pump died. Phil had to drive 60 miles round trip to buy another pump and then severely gashed his arm while trying to replace it. Out of his mouth, "That condo in Florida is looking better and better!" I couldn't agree more.

FANTASY...

REALITY

Standardized testing or torture? Tis the season...

Since we are in the thick of testing season I thought sharing an excerpt from Caught in the Middle - chapter entitled Standardized Torture (testing mania)- was appropriate. In this excerpt I may just make a little fun of test security - just a tad mind you...

Test security is taken very seriously. Unfortunately, there was a bit  of a cheating scandal (understatement) in a school district located in the capital of a southern state which I shall not name (Hint: state begins with the letter “G”) and as a result of this debacle, the ante has been upped in regards to preventing any wrongdoing (i.e. cheating) in regards to THE TEST. 

A school district's dream...

If districts could afford armored cars to deliver THE TEST they would be lining up at the dealership to purchase them. As it is now, the documents come to the school in sealed bins and must be signed for in blood by THE TEST coordinator before they release them. Test booklets and answer documents are considered top secret. The concern is someone (I’m not sure who) will get a hold of THE TEST and peek at a test question. I guess the fear is that this lapse in security may result in a nuclear war or possibly Armageddon. Therefore, each day of testing, teachers are required to sign a paper saying they will give up their first born child or at least an appendage if anything happens to the materials. Really. Then once the testing materials are in the teacher’s hands they must take them everywhere with them – yes even to the bathroom- OR keep them under two locks. Sounds ludicrous, but it’s true.

As the number two pencils begin to mark the answer choices and the administration of THE TEST is underway, you would think things would calm down. Nope. Au contraire mon frere. Things are just starting to get interesting, especially in middle school.

Students sometimes have issues (shocker). Take for instance an incident where a student gets a nosebleed in the middle of taking one of the subtests. Walkies-talkies will start going crazy and principals shift into high gear.

Head Principal: Did any blood get on the answer document?

Testing Coordinator: No, the teacher pushed the student out of the way, pulled the document and secured it immediately. Crisis averted. Student continues to test with tissue up nose and tissue box on desk. Only slight bruise on arm from push. Noted on testing log.

Head Principal: Roger that.

Ok I admit – it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I won’t admit it’s THAT far off.

The day of the Math test means kids will be puking all over the
school. I have held more than one students’ head while they vomit

in a trash can in the hallway. The math anxiety kicks into overdrive and all teachers are on the lookout for pea green faces so they can move the documents out of the way before the student blows his or her cookies. The mantra - SAVE THE TEST DOCUMENTS is the cry on math testing day. Because if the student vomits on the answer document, that answer document has to be placed in a plastic bag and sent to the state. I swear – this is the truth. Wouldn’t you love that job? Being the person at the state office opening up all the plastic bags with puke on bubble sheets? Hazardous work to be sure. Serves them right.

Heaven forbid a few students skip a question by mistake and have to erase all their answers and start over. This will be looked at as an anomaly and the teacher will be scrutinized in regards to possibly changing answers to better the results (this actually happened in that southern state capital that I shall not name – think Coca Cola).

Middle school students can be very tricky about cheating, like passing a jacket back and forth with the answers in a sleeve (true story). So teachers are expected to be vigilant and monitor on their feet throughout the test. That’s right – there is no sitting down and grading papers, reading email or posting on Facebook during the endless hours it takes the students to complete THE TEST. I think the district should offer personal trainers prior to THE TEST so teachers can get into shape for this marathon of strolling in between desks. We wouldn’t want any of them keeling over from exhaustion and possibly falling onto an answer document and damaging it. And if the students didn’t really like the teacher, he or she might be laying there unconscious for an undetermined length of time. Hey. It’s middle school.

Bless those testing coordinators! Hang in there - it's almost over.

Who would have thought...?

that my little boy, who was always the tiniest kid in school and the brunt of relentless teasing, would not only grow up to be a National Guardsman, but go on to become a paratrooper and an Army Ranger. Add to that a police officer and a member of the SWAT Team. Unbelievable. Every mother's anxiety nightmare - times two.

 It seems like only yesterday he was playing army in the woods with his friends with his baby sister tagging along. They would all be in cammo and completing imaginary missions and taking care of "the enemy". Anthony was always in charge and his friends followed his lead. Annamarie, his little sister, even had her own little cammo shirt. It's one of the few times he allowed her to play with him. Mostly because he could boss her around and she would willingly follow his "orders". I should have known then that his career path would be service to his country and community. But he was still young and I figured that his interest in wearing a uniform would wane when he became old enough to understand the dangers involved. After all, this was a child that was afraid of the dark. Surely he would lose his desire to be a soldier and/or police officer.

In Iraq

But then when he was a sophomore in high school, September 11, 2001 reared its ugly head. This tragedy had a profound effect on him. From that day forward, he had a resolve to serve his country that was unshakable. Since becoming a soldier, he has been deployed twice and as his mom I hope never again, but of course he would be ready and willing to go whether I like it or not. I seriously doubt those bullies at school would mess with our boy now. Hah!

Anthony is not only a son, a soldier, and a police officer, but also a husband and a father. His dad, sister, and I are very proud of all he has accomplished and the man he has become.

Saying goodbye to sons Kyan and Cole before deployment to Kosovo

America - you've got a good guy watching over you who happens to be turning 29 this week and who, by the way, is no longer afraid of the boogeyman and definitely not afraid of the bad guys.

Happy Birthday Anthony! You are loved.

His sister definitely doesn't follow his "orders" now!

Parking in LA? Mission Impossible

Are we supposed to read this?

Like most big cities, parking in LA is a dilemma. In LA, most cars sport a variety of dents, have doors that have been swiped, bumpers that house a crack or two, or side mirrors that are hanging like dead leaves on a tree. My theory is it's all from the incredibly difficult task of  #1 finding a place to park and #2 trying to fit your car in a spot whose size is more appropriate for a Shriner's clown car as opposed to a four door sedan.

How the hell do they ever get out of there?

Typical dent - this guy got creative and covered it in clear plastic wrap.

Another mirror bit the dust.

But there's more than just finding the opening and squeezing into it.

Once you find the treasured geographical location in which to park, the next step is trying to understand the frickin' signs - and there's never just one. They put as many on that skinny pole that it takes to thoroughly confuse you.

Are you kidding me?

I'm pretty sure I even saw one that said:

No parking except every other Sunday or when there is a full moon, unless you have a chihuahua and in that case you can never park here.

After you take the time to read all the signs and have absolutely no idea if you are legal or not you usually just say "screw it" and do your best not to be hit or hit anything on the way in. Even with all the work you put in to try and understand the signs you will probably end up with one of these...

Obviously parking tickets are a big business here. Most residents are resigned to the fact that half of their paycheck goes to the City of Los Angeles in the form of parking fines. Wonder where the city spends all that revenue? My guess is it they use it to purchase more signs because four on a pole is just not enough.

Postcards from LA. What the....?

Every trip to LA is an experience. It's like it's own little planet out here - unique, freaky and beautiful in it's own way (except for the traffic, which is abominable). I think it's important to have a "go with the flow" kind of attitude and try to appreciate the city for what it is - an eclectic collection of lifestyles, ethnicities and neurosis. But sometimes you just run across things that even the most La-Di-Da attitude just finds a little too weird and hysterically funny.

I have no idea...

What every home needs.

So random

SUPER CREEPY!

I just don't even know what to say about this...

Maybe he's waiting for the rest of his bathing suit to drop from the sky.

Ending my postcard with Having a great time. Wish you were here. Although not really, because my daughter's apartment would be a bit crowded. Happy Easter all!