Because Carrara marble looks cheap...

we're entertaining these two options for the kitchen:

No, your screen is not dirty, our white cabinets are just that mucked up from construction. Nothing a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser won't fix. I say that about the blackheads on my nose too.

Here's a closer look at the option that is probably more B'ton-friendly:

Since our current counter space is about the size of one of these samples, I suggested we just lift two from Home Depot and call it a day. Strangely Woody was not into this idea.

Drywall begins!

This past week a huge truckload of 4.5x12 pieces of drywall arrived! While they are much larger than the drywall that Mike, Eric and Woody put up in the master bedroom this summer, they do lack the certain joo-noo-say-qua of construction fueled by PBR. Healthily, Kenneth and crew don't seem to have developed the close personal relationships with particular pieces of sheetrock that the Brooks crew did:


That said, Kenneth and crew threw down and got a ton done! The hallway and back bedroom look like rooms (or, er, hallways)!


While it is now difficult to find the fridge in the sea of drywall newness, it is not impossible as large chunks of loose insulation are still clinging to it (*shudder*).


The ceilings are up in the living room, dining room and kitchen as well. It is slightly disorienting to no longer be able to see into the attic from the first floor anymore. Still cannot decide whether it feels claustrophobic...or posh.

The heat is on! The heat is o-on!

It's feeling very toasty and Beverly Hills Cop on up in 517 O'Neal! The heat is on! It's o-on! Tell me do you feel it? Tell me do you feel it? Tell...me...do...you...feel...it? The heat is (drum drum drum drum) ON!

Need to dust off your 80s dance moves to join in the celebration? Check out the fine video incorporating hot footage of number 2 recording artist Glenn Frye and Eddie Murphy. Try not to dance...it's impossible. Go ahead, do some synchronizer clapping, let down that mullet, cue up the smoke...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-mU-YSk32I

I have gone up to our thermostat no less than three times and done this:

Then I laugh like Eddie Murphy in "Coming to America." I'm rooting around for either my tribal wear or leather pants to get the full effect going.

Q: What has more cans than...

This endangered and sugary species

The tobacco that launched a thousand prank calls
("Do you have Prince Albert in a Can? Yes. Well, you better go let him out!")

The dance that fueled Moulin Rouge

The soup that fueled Andy Warhol's career (Mmm mmm good!)

A: Our house! And they're not half-full Dr. Pepper cans this time! They're lovely working can lights.


They are operated with these strange plastic wands (like you don't even have to root around for an extension cord to get them to go on).


Woody spent all day yesterday installing many many of them and then flipping them on and off with delirious glee. I was especially tickled that you could flip a switch downstairs and have a light come on upstairs. (Try not to be envious, just try.) The entire downstairs and upstairs of the house are bright! Woody claims the kitchen is as bright as the surface of the sun but I am not entirely convinced he speaks from experience.

Padded room

The renovation process has finally unhinged Woody and I. And being that I shrunk our straitjackets at the laundromat last week, we've decided to have all the walls in the house padded. That way when we cannot possibly take another deliciously rare steak off the grill...d'oh! Optimism has gone and ruined my comedic stylings again. I must start thinking that the plastic Solo cups we drink out of are half-empty.

But for reals, I did have a very no-wire-hangers moment when I returned home and saw this:

Shoveling up fallen loose insulation took up most of my spare moments when we had a leaky roof and the ceiling routinely caved in and dumped the stuff out of the attic. I now hate loose insulation. I think Woody saw me quaking with fear/ loathing and kept soothingly saying "But this is the best kind, I swear." I had trouble hearing him as I was rocking back and forth and repeating "Want the pink stuff, thought it would be the pink stuff..."

The insulation has made the upstairs really start looking like a couple of rooms! Maybe using exclamation points will prevent me from breaking out in a cold sweat while posting these pics!

The process of putting in (as opposed to picking up) loose insulation is actually pretty cool. There are yards and yards of gauzy fabric tacked up to the ceiling to support the stuff they are going to blow in today. It makes the whole place look like considerate and anal spiders very deliberately made their way across the rafters. I have considered going Von Trapp on the material and making a nice dress out of it. But if I do this, insulation will fall down...and I don't feel like going into the fetal position again.


The insulation makes the whole place quieter and cozier and means that drywall will go up next!

Stamp of approval!

We passed rough-in inspection, yahoo! What does this mean? It means this:

and this:


Woody and I can't wait until the Pink Panther and this green-complected cartoon doctor finish our insulation and jolt our furnace to life, respectively. Imagine it -- central heat! Maybe by Christmas!

The return of outdoor lighting!

We had outdoor lighting for a while thanks to Woody's wiring of a motion detector light in the back but with wiring complications it disappeared...now it's back! With the brand spanking new addition of a front porch light! We had planned on sitting out on the front porch and soaking in this fixture's retro charm. However, the mint juleps just didn't taste the same when the temperature dropped below 40.

On guard!

Here Woody prepares to parry with some poultry over our Thanksgiving visit to Maryland. We both spent most of the time in the kitchen as we hadn't touched one in a while. Apparently there are these new-fangled machines that let you cook inside and don't require fiddling with a propane tank. I was told they're called stoves. Don't ask me, I think it's French.