Is just saying "Thank You" enough?

No. Not in this case.

You know, it’s not that hard for me to think back six and a half years to my first day as an assistant principal. I remember very clearly that I did not know what the hell I was doing or more specifically what the hell I SHOULD be doing. As a teacher you have plans – yes they may change – but overall you have plans for the day that you follow. As an assistant principal you can TRY to make plans like schedule meetings, observe teachers, etc. However, I learned very quickly that, for an administrator, all hell breaks loose the minute the students step on campus so you might as well forget about all those “best laid” plans. You end up putting out fires (not literally thank goodness – well maybe once) and dealing with what my administrative team and I lovingly call “shisnick”. You catch my drift.

When I came in with my brand new shiny name tag that advertised my position as an administrator, all I knew was that I wanted to support the teaching and learning inside the building. Ok –that is such a pat type of answer and sounds like BS and something the school board would want me to say. I’ll be honest – I just wanted to survive and not be burned at the stake. It’s one AP and a whole bunch of teachers and one wrong move and – ZAP! Sizzle.

When my plan to retire began to seep out, one of the teachers that I supervise said she would like to organize a lunch or dinner at a restaurant before I retire. She said, “I will reserve a room or something.” I said, “Sure!” and then I immediately thought – you expect people to give up time out of their weekend to come to a restaurant and spend time with me???? Forget a room, a booth would probably suffice. Maybe a few would show up. Those that have no life. Maybe. Unless they had reruns to watch. Or a needlepoint to finish. Or toenails to clip.

 But my teachers did show up on a Sunday afternoon just to let me know I would be missed. The word “overwhelmed” doesn't even begin to cut it. Flabbergasted is closer but still not enough. Wow. They could have sent a card, could have just given me a hug in the hallway, could have clapped their hands and said to themselves – thank god she’s retiring. But they came out. Instead of Christmas shopping. Instead of trimming the tree. Instead of baking Christmas cookies with their kids. They came out.

We laughed, cried, and reminisced, all while I soaked in the company. Great company. And as I sat there with these fantastic people I questioned myself, “Why am I leaving all this?” Then I remembered…the shisnick. Which causes the stress, which causes the frowns, which causes the wrinkles, which causes Patti to want a face-lift.

I will never forget this get together though. Now remember “never” is not as long as it used to be for me considering my age. But I repeat, I will never forget this because it required the sacrifice of time. I have had the incredible pleasure and honor to support the most amazing teachers. I really get choked up just thinking about it. They are so frickin’ good at what they do. They inspired me every day and to be honored by these incredible educators means I made a difference. Had an impact. Meant something. And that, ladies and gents, is what life is all about.

To all my teachers and colleagues -  Thank You! I love you guys and will miss you.       

But definitely not the shisnick … 

Crown Moulding...who said we needed this anyway?

Oh that's right. It would be ME! 

I know my readers (all 2 of you) have been waiting with bated breath to hear how the crown moulding installation went in the master bedroom. Well I won’t disappoint. It had the makings of a debacle.

Crown moulding + math challenged amateurs + non-square walls = a fudged up mess

We tried to read and become educated about it – really we did. My husband bought a book entitled Crown Moulding and Trim – Install it Like a Pro! (not making this up). Of course the book was confusing as hell but we did take some tips from it, such as the suggestion to make templates of the corner angles. We had some leftover moulding from another project so we did just that.

Armed with our templates, our plan was to cut a 16 footer on both ends of the moulding and put that across the smaller end of the room. We used the templates as a guide, measured twice, held our breath, brought the blade down and cut the wood.

After having to go back and cut it smaller 2 more times ( our mantra was “better to cut long than short”) we decided to nail the sucker up. Now I know most of you do not know my husband, so when I say that if one or 2 is good then in his mind 30 must be better. He nailed that sucker up there with a nail gun every 8 inches on top AND on the bottom. But I figured – no problem I can fill in the holes and repaint. Easy fix. We had templates –it’s all good.

Now came the real test. Matching the corners with the next piece. I had heard about fake corners that you can buy, but we were hardcore and going for the artisan touch of real 45 degree angles. No cheating for us. No siree bob! Besides, we had templates remember?

As we lifted the moulding that would be at a 90 degree angle to the one already installed (with the gazillion nails in it), we would soon see that the theory of using the templates must be for those people who actually knew what they were doing. It did not fit. Not even close. Undeterred, we decided to try the other side of the wall. We dragged ourselves back to the saw, cut another piece of crown and headed back to what now is becoming the torture chamber instead of the bed chamber. We had templates damn it. Surely it would fit like a puzzle piece. Nope –  a gap the size of the grand canyon. 

Hmmmmm…. After calling a meeting of our two great minds it seemed that possibly there was a reason why people use those pre-made corners. It is a called self- preservation. So…we headed back to the store. We are starting to be like Norm from the old TV show Cheers. They scream our name when we come in. Anyway, we caved in and bought four corner pieces that the molding would slide into. This would give the illusion of a finished corner without the profanity, twelve trips back to the saw and back up the ladder, and might possibly save this marriage.

Now – what to do with the piece that had all those nails in it? Well, we had to pry it off the wall and pull out each of the nails. I was able to salvage it and we could reuse it. Although I did put my husband on a nail diet after that and we went with one nail every couple of feet. Even WITH the pre-made corners, installing crown moulding is not a cinch and not for those faint of heart. However, we completed the project and once again did not shoot each other with the nail gun – although it was tempting.

Two days (total 9 hours) and a lot of caulk and wood filler later, the crown is up and lookin’ good. And as for those templates? As we relaxed our aching back and neck muscles with a glass of wine by the fireplace, we had great joy throwing them into the fire and watching them go up in smoke. I also threw in the book for good measure. Burn baby burn. 

Whoever invented this is a genius!

Before it was ashes.

How do you spell R-E-L-I-E-F?

Thanksgiving Break – that’s how.

As I bask in the glory of having the week off for Thanksgiving I contemplate one of the oldest arguments in regards to educators and public perception. Vacation time for teachers.

People who work in the private sector (businesses, banking, medical care) think teachers have it made. Summer off, 2 weeks at Christmas, a week at Thanksgiving and Easter. And they are right – it is the single best part of the job, and if an educator says that the rewards from teaching children outweigh this perk, they are lying. Don’t believe them. It’s the time off that makes the job appealing and do you know why?????

Because we would all be insane WITHOUT this time off. You would have psychiatric facilities full of teachers and administrators mumbling incoherently and swatting at imaginary things in the air. Really – we would all be cuckoo. And why would this happen?

One word. 

One single word... 

Children.

OK, now if you have children you are thinking MY precious brood would NEVER do ANYTHING to aggravate a teacher. And that may be the case. Maybe. However there are enough children out there that do not have the same self-control as your darlings and these children cause mass chaos for the teachers and administrators. We all are prematurely grey IF we have any hair left by the time we have completed 10 years in this profession.

Me in 2000
Ready to educate the world

Me in 2014
Who said children keep you young?

Now don’t get me wrong. Teaching children has its rewards- for sure. It

just seems that nowadays there is an imbalance between the warm fuzzies of watching children learn and grow and day to day struggle to maintain control of not only the classroom but of your own frustration.

Think about it – we stuff 32 children into one room and as a teacher you have to not only teach the content but also keep control and as we like to say in the current vernacular – keep them “engaged”.

What happens in your own house on a rainy day and you have your, let’s say, two children home for the day? Tell me they have not driven you nuts by the time 5PM rolls around. Now multiply those 2 by 16 –don’t let them watch TV, sword fight, build legos, dress up dolls or watch a Disney movie. It ain’t pretty.

Teachers deal with rolling of eyes, talking back, sucking teeth, directions completely ignored and sometimes even profanity thrown at them. And this is on a daily basis. So when you think about how teachers are “spoiled” because the time off they get, I want you to consider doing this:

Invite every child in your neighborhood over for a rainy day (must be at least 20). You have the sole responsibility to keep them engaged in learning activities for 6 hours (no cheating by turning on Sponge Bob). Then, when it’s time for your 20 minute lunch, you must scarf down your food while never taking your eyes off your wards for fear they will begin a Tater Tot war, bully someone, or watch porn on their cell phones (not making this up). Good luck. You will surely be in the liquor cabinet as soon as they leave.

All said and done – teaching has become extremely difficult. But I know if I asked my teachers if there is any other profession they would choose they would look at me like I was crazy. They are dedicated, caring, and amazing individuals who are on the front lines everyday trying to educate this next generation. It’s not easy and it’s not always pleasant. So throw them a bone, cut them some slack, and let them enjoy the time off without resentment. THEY HAVE EARNED IT!

Helllooooo? Is anybody out there?

Don’t ask me why I pose these questions at the beginning of my posts. It’s like I expect someone to answer them. I know there are a few (very few) people who read my ramblings I’m throwing out into cyberspace, so mostly I guess I’m talking to myself. You know there are places they put people that do that.

Well I thought this week would be a good opportunity to review the master bedroom budget. I pulled a projection of $1000.00 out of mid- air when I first posted about undertaking this renovation. I knew that $1000.00 was basically all I could afford so I needed to make it work. Did I make it? Ummm not quite. But I will be pretty damn close. Here is a synopsis of where the money has gone up to this point. All costs are approximate. 

1.       I have been able to save money on the furniture for sure. There is NO WAY this bedroom could have been transformed on this budget without saving the furniture. But refinishing the furniture required the purchase of primer, paint, and other supplies. Cost: $50.00. That’s a helluva lot better than $3000 for new furniture. Although now my husband has to have hernia surgery (I’m not kidding) probably from lifting all this furniture. By the time the hospital bills come I could have had new furniture from Ethan Allen. I’m an idiot.

2.       Prepping, priming and painting the walls sounds like a cheap fix, and it is compared to purchasing other items, but paint is no longer an inexpensive commodity. I remember (back in the Dark Ages) when a gallon of paint was $8.00. Now, a gallon of paint is more like $27 - $30. Cost: $120.00

3.       The new headboard (Wal-Mart online) was definitely the most expensive purchase for the remodel, however the old brass headboard will sell for at least $100 on Craig’s list. Cost minus the resale of the old headboard: $279.00

4.       The chevron patterned storage bench (Wal-Mart online) Cost: $100.00

5.       Accent table (Target)  Cost:  $95.00

6.       Lamp shades (LampsPlus) for my mom’s lamps.  Cost: $100 with shipping

7.        Mirror (HomeGoods) for dresser. Cost: $129 minus $20 gift card and $10 rewards coupon = $99.00

8.       Window coverings (Bed, Bath and Beyond) Cost: $79 less $20 gift card Cost: $59.00

9.       Crown Moulding (Lowes): $150.00

Total: $1,052.00

Not too shabby. Yesterday I finished up the armoire and I hope we can get the headboard attached and some things moved around the bedroom today. Once everything is in place there may be some extra costs for some bracketless shelves or art work that is not included above.

Oh by the way … I did not win the Blog Cabin (I can’t believe it!) and it doesn’t look like I won the Urban Oasis. WTF. However I AM waiting to get a call from Nicole Curtis telling me I won the Don’t Hate, Renovate Sweepstakes. I’ll let you know as soon as I get off the phone with her. She should be contacting me the week after Thanksgiving – just in time for Christmas.

Hey Nicole – after your call, let’s do lunch!

Should husbands and wives procreate AND renovate??

Iffy.

You know the old book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus? In my opinion, there is a reason they compared men to Mars, which denotes being “out there” or crazy, and women to Venus which has the connotation of beauty and grace. Makes perfect sense to me. Now, I’m not about to bash men. Truly I’m not. Some of the best times in my life revolved around the opposite sex. However, when you decide to take on a renovation with your man, you are stepping into dangerous territory or simply put, stepping into doo—doo.

Phil and I do pretty well in the beginning and then slowly we start to wear on each other’s nerves. And it’s all his fault. For sure. Remember I’m from Venus. Perfect. Never annoying. Always delightful. He’s from Mars. Irrational. Weird. Three heads. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. It’s not that there is any yelling - although we are probably both yelling in our head “IDIOT!” -  just exasperated looks and a whole lot of mumbling under the breath.

One of the causes of these frustrations we have while working together is lack of communication. Women in general use words (lots of them) to communicate. Usually more than a man wants to hear. Phil is a man of few words, unless he is watching the news and then it’s a free-for-all peppered with a lot of profanity. So, while working together sometimes he thinks I can just read his mind about how to help him lift something, or where to shine the flashlight, or which wrench to hand him, or maybe I just happened to ignore the fact that he was in the crosshairs of the spray paint. Honest mistake, really.

He is an efficiency expert. I’m the opposite. It’s Oscar and Felix from The Odd Couple all over again. Yet we managed to gut a bathroom and completely re-do it and somehow remained man and wife. It was touch and go though. But when we finished and stood back and looked at our work, we were proud of each other and also secretly thankful one of us didn’t shoot the other with the nail gun. I know that behind the scenes in the new show “Fixer Upper” that Chris and Joanna Gaines must call each other an ass under his or her breath every once and awhile, or at least roll their eyes when the other one isn’t looking. They CAN’T be that happy right? I think it’s a plot to make the rest of us look like failures as renovating spouses.

The reason I’m bringing this up now is that we are nearing the end of the master bedroom renovation. We made it through the dresser mirror installation – barely. Is it my fault that it took me such a long time to decide where to hang it? Yes the mirror is huge and he was holding it up all that time by himself. Hmmphf. Small detail. At least it is to someone from Venus.

However, even with that small glitch it’s been going pretty smoothly, but shark infested waters lie ahead. It’s time for the crown moulding. Crown moulding means that I will be an integral part of the installation, meaning I’m supposed to hold the other end. It’s inevitable that I will silently be asked to read his mind and will fail to do so thus resulting in a calamity.  Uh oh – a nail gun is involved in this. Maybe I should wear a suit of armor. 

A sneak peak at the progress we have made... together.

BEFORE: a hot mess

AFTER: sleek, and contemporary

Which would YOU choose? Wisdom or youth?

My husband, I, and another couple had a belated birthday celebration for me this weekend. We went out to a lovely restaurant for dinner and then enjoyed some wonderful entertainment in the lounge. I had a great time – really I did. Danced with my husband, had great conversation with friends, received presents – that’s always a plus. But despite the superb company and awesome food, I found myself continually watching the 30 to 40 something women who were in the restaurant and discovered I was becoming envious of them. I hated that. I don’t want to be jealous of anyone – well except maybe George Clooney’s new wife, which should be allowed – because I realize I’m extremely lucky. I am a decent looking, overall healthy 60 year old with an acceptable body, and a family who loves me. In between my bites of salmon, I began questioning why I was obsessing over something that they had that I could not have – namely youth. Obviously, this is something over which I have no control. I began to ponder, should I be thinking, as the old saying goes, “It’s better than the alternative” and just be glad to be alive? I started to do some serious reflecting and have been asking myself how I can get over this and accept where I am and who I am at this time in my life. I want to get to the point where I don’t long for the past or how I looked in the past or miss having a “presence” as opposed to being invisible yada yada yada. I need to stop whining in my head. Why can’t I be satisfied that I have two beautiful children and grandchildren, a good marriage, and have had successful careers? Is something wrong with me? Is too much of my self-esteem tied up with looks as opposed to brains? Man, if so, I guess I’m shallow. Like an evaporating puddle. Maybe I need an intervention.

For a nanosecond I wondered if the women in the restaurant looked at me and were envious of the wisdom gained throughout my years. Not a chance. Let’s be honest. They don’t even look at me let alone long for my wisdom and experience. Did I notice 60 year olds when I was their age? Heck no. In our society we put so much more emphasis on looks than we do on wisdom and obviously, in my own head, I have fallen into that trap. Shame on me.

My sis and me at the Club Med in Cancun. I was a whole 23 years old. We were "hot to trot". 

This is a work in progress and on a very personal level. On a practical level I believe it’s a waste of time to desire something that is unattainable – meaning turning back time. And I hate to waste time – ask my children. My sis and I have deep, but humorous, discussions about aging all the time. Neither of us is real fond of being in the aging process. Unfortunately, we have yet to convince each other that life is better in our 60s. We try though – we really do. However as I edge towards my retirement from education I do feel a bit of a spark as far as the possibility of learning something new and the excitement of a new challenge. Could this possibly replace the aspects of youth that I miss? Like dancing all night, having mind-blowing sex, or believing the world is my oyster?

NAH – hell no - but it may make things a bit easier. I’m just bein’ honest. This may take some time…or a facelift (just kidding – can’t afford it!)

Skip ahead 34 years. I'm on the right, sis on the left.

Remember when stripping was sexy?

Getting ready for hot sex and teasing the mate with a bit of strip tease… oh yea. Unfortunately, it’s now a distant memory.  Something to think about in the nursing home for sure. I can still remember it – just not do it! Even if my husband was near blind and the room was completely dark, chances are as I was gyrating around I would throw out my new hip, get a toe cramp or worse yet, trip over the string-like thong. It’s best I leave the sexy stripping to the young folk. So at this age the word “stripping” has taken on a new meaning for me. Furniture. Yep.  That is what age has done to me. Instead of slowly taking off my clothes to reveal lacy, luscious lingerie I’m donning rubber gloves, goggles and a Darth Vader-like mask.

I have undertaken refinishing all the old bedroom furniture as opposed to buying new. This set (triple dresser, armoire and nightstand) is not only made better than today’s bedroom ensembles it’s already mine which means saving a bunch of money. So far this is what have I learned about stripping furniture:

It’s smelly

It’s time-intensive

It’s hard work

When I started this project my husband had found some old stripper in the garage (this is a perfect place for a cheesy joke but I’ll give you a break). He also found all the other supplies I needed because, well – we have everything in our garage that anyone would need for anything times 2, but THAT is the subject for another post. He outfitted me with thick rubber gloves, a special mask made just for filtering fumes, and protective goggles, and told me to go for it.

“I’ll start small”, I told myself and began with the nightstand. Wow – the power of chemicals!!!! I could just watch the paint dissolving before my eyes. 

Then I realized why I was wearing all this protective gear. This stuff would eat away at human skin. It was so cool to watch the paint crackle and bubble. However that enthusiasm didn't last long because basically the stripper does the work of loosening the finish; however the real work starts after the stripper has been lathered on.

Scraping, scraping, scraping. More stripper, more scraping. I had already painted this furniture in the past so there was a layer of paint, primer, poly and stain to go through. Once the wood was exposed it’s sanding, sanding, sanding. After sanding and cleaning you are ready for whatever finish you want to put on the piece. I decided on a satin black. So I put 2 coats of primer and about 2 – 3 coats of paint. Never paint bare wood that has not been primed. Obviously this was not done in one day. This is a multi-day project. So give yourself time. For me, since I'm still working, it was a multi-weekend project.

I had issues with the drawer pulls as well. They were nasty looking and too dark. In my alternate world of unlimited budget that I like to daydream in, I would have purchased some acrylic or Lucite pulls but since I am on a tight budget I decided to spray-paint the knobs. I bought a can of silver spray paint and went at it. And ya know? They look pretty damn good.

 Remember when spray-painting wear the latex gloves and stay out of the wind. Obviously I’ve made both mistakes before.

While we are on the subject of spray-paint…I had brass curtain rods up in the bedroom. I didn’t want to spend the money to buy new ones and did not want brass, so I just spray painted the old ones black.  This would not work if the curtains would be moved back and forth on a daily basis. Because I have blinds behind the curtains, they are stationary and don’t have to worry about the paint scraping off. Take a look at how my husband created a cool way for me to spray paint these little devils. He’s a genius!

With the pieces hanging it made it a breeze to spray paint.

So now the nightstand is done, pulls are done, and curtain rods are done.  The mammoth triple dresser was stripped this weekend and the stripping was definitely NOT sexy! It was a bear to strip. In the midst of all the stripping and scraping I was cussing at myself for not going to the furniture store and buying new. I wish I could blame someone else for this decision (like my husband) however I have to admit it was all me. Sometimes my bright ideas aren't too bright. I will forge on and complete this project but next time I'm going to Ethan Allen.

Ready for primer and paint. YEA!