Have you ever noticed that when a new house was going up in the neighborhood the framing and shell seemed to pop up overnight and the finish work took forever? Well, not so with Sparta. If you have been with me these agonizing months (wait, years) then you’ll know the infrastructure (electrical, plumbing, etc.) and walls took forever. The finish work, relatively speaking, seems to be proceeding posthaste. This is exciting and begs the question, “Where to put this behemouth when I’m done?”. Well, I was hoping to make some progress on that by travelling to southern California this week to check out possible destinations (Anza-Borrego and Julian), with a side trip to the annual Vintage Trailer show in Palm Springs. Those plans were dashed by the passing of an old friend and his memorial this coming Wednesday. Can’t miss it.
Here are some pics and their captions will help tell their story:
Remember. I am following the 4 “Rs” here – re-use, re-cycle, re-store and re-fuse to spend money unnecessarily. Ha!
Sometimes, while blogging, I feel like the old Maytag repair man – I’ve the loneliest job in the world. I will figuratively throw these missives out into the sea, wondering what, if any, distant shore they make landfall on. “Is anybody reading? Does anyone care? Hello our there! “.
And then it happens. A nibble – my bobber bouncing slightly, my pole tip twitching. And then a full strike, my reel spinning as I grab my barely attended rod. (sorry for the tortured and slightly vulgar metaphor). Unfortunately, I usually just catch the bottom-feeders with inspirational observations like:
“I have learn several good stuff here. Certainly worth bookmarking for revisiting. I wonder how so much attempt you set to make any such excellent informative web site.” or
I guess it doesn’t matter what we call it. If it meets this definition, Let’s call it art – “The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.”
Besides, it’s fun and sometimes (esp. in the right light) pretty. The grounds around Sparta are filled with such expressions and, occasionally, they inspire me. But today I must go from the sublime to the monotonous and deal with sanding. For that I have called in the reinforcements. Cristina has agreed to help me with that drudgery. Lots of old cabinets to bring back to life.
Sparta satisfies both sides of my brain, calling upon my artistic and technical abilities. Such as they are.
OK, guys. This is where the rubber meets the road…a moment of truth…a time to learn if my plan is solid. It is time to find the tub drain and position the bath.
Way back when, I tore up parts of the rotted floor. While doing so I replaced the waste line for the bathtub. Then, when I put down new 3/4″ subflooring I marked the spot where the drain should be with a Sharpie. Then I put down 1/8″ underlayment and marked the spot again. The passage of time, dirt and foot traffic has left that black “X” faded and sketchy. So yesterday I grabbed my drill and said “I’m going in”.
I just love it when things turn out like I planned.
I woke up this morning thinking about time, or the lack thereof. No, not time in the ” I can’t get things done” sense. More like time in the “this won’t happen” sense. More of a existential view. There is a cruel irony as one gets older, at least for me. Minutes can take hours and years, mere months. As I greeted my therapist the other day we made small talk. She couldn’t believe it was already February. I was flummoxed by it being 2019. I told her that the passage of time accelerates in proportion to how long we have lived. The older the faster. She said she had never thought of it that way. She is 28. My contemporaries are thinking, “Thanks, Captain Obvious”. She will see. Life is like vacations. You get your two weeks off, go to Mexico and for a couple of days float aimlessly in the pool with the time flowing nice and orderly, predictably. You’re thinking, “I should go to Isla Mujeres. I hear the snorkling’s great”. Then you slip off your raft, swim to the bar and have another pina colada thinking “tomorrow”. Next thing you know you’re packing your bags, tossing the brochures and Isla Mujeres is on the top of the pile mocking you. “Damn!”.
So what does this have to do with trailers? Nothing, other than adding a modicum of urgency to my efforts. Here is what my laser-like focus has produced over the last week or so.