Another snow day during which we still have power

I've received more alerts of potential power outages in North Carolina than in any other place I've ever lived, even without adjusting for the fact that I've lived here for a relatively shorter time. Despite this, we've only experienced a few brief power outages. The current snow storm has been no exception; I've received approximately three warnings about a possible loss of power, and here we sit, warm and well-lit. Beyond the presumptive closures of almost everything, here's what happens when it snows here:

 Our tiny pine tree was bent with the weight of the snow and ice, but recovered nicely after being brushed off and coaxed upright once again.

 Cyril was gravely displeased with the weather. Here he is being carried in the front yard to find a place to relieve himself. 

Cyril was much relieved (pun intended) that we could move the yard waste bin and reveal a small patch of grass for him. 

 Once we came back inside, he was very willing to let me try on his winter hat in progress. 

The cats' desire to frolic in the out-of-doors has been conspicuously absent this morning and afternoon.

The yard that time forgot

We bought our house in the dead of winter, shortly before a record-breaking stretch of low temperatures and snow in the Triangle. When we moved in, we estimated that the back yard hadn't been raked in several years and the front yard had been relatively untended for almost as long. Apart from my successful stint at succulent husbandry, my track record with plants is not good. My somewhat confessional post about the series of Clyde plants I'd nurtured and killed preceded the demise of what at that point was the current plant by just a few short months. Given this history, when it came to tackling our yard I did what any smart person would do and called my mom. Enthusiastic at the idea of being able to transform our yard into something that would quickly become an important stop on any house and garden tour in Durham, she asked for some photos. Sobered at the images of an overgrown disaster in the front, and a scorched-earth-style sand pit in the back, we discussed how best to proceed. As we made plans to tackle the front on her upcoming trip to Durham, she packaged some hostas and a fern from her yard into a Priority Mail box and they were on their way. I managed not to kill them in the few days between their arrival and hers, and we went to work!

Things we did:

• Removed another trash bag's worth of poison ivy from the front yard
• Trimmed the "grass," or what passes for grass in our front yard that is comprised of plants we've tentatively identified as Virginia creeper, mint, crab grass, a small amount of residual poison ivy, and approximately 1,000,000 as yet unidentified weeds
• Dug out four dead or dying shrubs
• Positively identified, rescued, and trained the fig tree that Lynn attempted to demolish in the fall because she thought it was unsightly
• Mixed in some compost into the dirt in front of the house and planted the hostas
• Planted two ferns in the corner by the fence
• Came up with a clever watering scheme that involved using the water from the dehumidier each night to water the hostas in the front yart, and each morning to water the herbs and ferns in the back yard

The results: 

The fig tree! This is after some pruning and also training the three branches to form a trunk. It's starting to look like a proper tree. You can almost see the baby hostas in a line behind it. 

Through circumstances that are beyond the scope of this blog post, I have recently augmented my cicada knowledge, and can tell you that the insect husk you see here on one of the fig leaves is a scissor-grinder cicada, which is, if not annual, more frequent than the q13 or q17 year cicadas that are frequently referenced. 

This Fresno pepper is the only one we've harvested so far this year. There are some flowers on the plant as of this post, so fingers crossed for more.

I candied two green figs! I wasn't sure whether birds would eat them once they were more ripe, so I decided to go for it. They are pretty mild and mostly just taste like sugar with a faint fig undertone, so I'll be hoping for ripe figs for the next batch. 

Reflections, new directions, and pet photos (!)

Tonight is the residency graduation ceremony at many OB/GYN programs across the country, and marks approximately a year since I finished residency and and we moved across the country. I've struggled a bit to get back into the swing of the blog, in part because we've gone through a tremendous number of transitions this year and I think we've hardly had time to process one before another is upon us. I posted earlier this spring about the evolution of the blog, but it was a bit of a half-hearted attempt that left me feeling even less certain about the direction going forward. Here's a short list of some of this year's transitions that I'm hopeful to share more about in the coming year.

I'm so close to being finished with medical training - That's right, folks, it's really happening. For those you who thought I had been in college for the past 17 years, you should stop lamenting my slow progress and start celebrating the fact that in that time I have earned three (3) degrees, one (1) certificate, three (3) medical licenses, four (4) DEA numbers, including a special one for prescribers of medication assisted treatment for opiate use disorder, two (2) bilingual provider certifications, and eligibility to take my general obstetrics and gynecology board exams this winter. I also have a job. I think it's okay to let you all know at this point that I'll be joining my current division of general obstetrics and gynecology as an assistant professor in August. In the coming year, you can expect more thoughts about medical education, work-life balance, and the challenges of providing health care in the prison system.

The weather here is completely different - And it turns out that biking with seasons is a whole different ballgame. It's one that I had blissfully and intentionally forgotten while living in the Bay Area. Aside from the occasional rainy day, I could count on being able to use whatever portion of my free time I desired to ride a bike. Although the fall and early winter in North Carolina were seemingly designed for cycling, the "spring" and "summer" have been nearly indistinguishable and have involved temperatures and humidity that make me hesitant to leave the house walking, much less cycling. Despite this, I have lots of cycling goals for the year to come, so you can look forward to more NC scenery views from the saddle.

We have an extremely anxious dog - Walter's entire life was chronicled on the blog, and it still makes my throat catch a bit to see his name as a label option for each post. Cyril, too, has struggled with the loss mightily. He had some significant anxiety issues when we adopted him, and they worsened appreciably after the attack. It turns out that veterinary medicine offers some of the clearest evidence that medications for anxiety change lives. Our little dog is a patient at the NC State Behavioral Medicine Clinic and in addition to the equivalent of doggie therapy, he is now on lots of anxiolytics. He is making great progress, and you can anticipate some reflections on the challenges of a totally differently high needs dog from our last one.

Eighty-five years of questionable decisions in our house - The "what were they thinking" posts will not stop. I have a back log of "before" and "in the midst of it" photos to share, including some demolition photos from what we have been calling "the forbidden bathroom" due to it's lack of non-rotted structural support. This week will also mark the start of the first professional work on the house.

Suffice it to say, there is a lot going on right now and so I'll share some photos of the pets relaxing to remind you (and me!) to do the same.

Cyril loves relaxing in a lawn chair. He tends to cycle between the sunny grass, the shady grass or pavement, and the lawn chair as his temperature needs demand. 

Eli is perhaps the most effective pet at reminding me to take a break. Here he is, seemingly saying "Now it is my turn to use the computer."

This is not some high-tech cat bed that we are using now. It is a high tech washing machine that the cat is using as a bed. I may or may not have started placing a folded bath mat in the washer for him to sleep on. In my defense, it needed to be washed anyway...

Return to Step 1: There was/is more stuff on the floors than you could possibly have imagined

Work on the house is, as you might expect, somehow both fast and slow at the same time. Although things are accomplished every day, and we are making plans for some of the huge changes (hello, new roof!), it often feels like parts of it will take forever. Like the floors.

You'll recall that I posted about removing the horrifying flooring early. We pulled up carpet in the whole downstairs, and removed some random paneling and plywood that were on the floors also. This revealed some incredible peel-and-stick tile in the living room, dining room, guest bedroom, and the entire upstairs. Lynn is basically an adhesive removing machine with the heat gun as her bionic hand, but it is slow work! Let this be a lesson to everyone - If you have nice hardwood flooring and don't want to refinish it, put a layer of something that is easily removed, like weird wood paneling or plywood down on the floor before you semi-permanently adhere linoleum to it. You will be happy you did if you later recant your objection to refinishing, and I would argue that if you could refer people to this blog that it would actually increase the resale value of the home. What are a few small nail holes between friends?

NB: If you use giant nails that leave 1/4" holes in the wood, no one will like you. You have to use something small that doesn't require a hammer, a pry bar, and a miracle to get out without leaving a huge chunk missing from the floor. 

This is early days in this project...

The heat gun in action!

After the heat gun, the industrial vat of coconut oil makes an appearance. It does a remarkably good job of un-sticking the last little bits of adhesive and the dog loves it! 

Ultimately the floors are lovely. Unclear whether they are stained different colors in different rooms, but we can work with that. 

Progress in the living room...

Massive progress in the study!

Step 0: Address some small plumbing issues

One of the ongoing challenges of the house is the plumbing. Similar to other systems, (e.g. the electrical system and the decorating system) some corners had been cut over the past 85 years of rentals and repairs. Notably, before we moved in, the line between the house and the sewer was not working. This resulted in a rather unsavory situation under the porch and at another point in the crawlspace that has since been remedied.  This required digging up the front yard!

The digging was delayed by freezing weather, but fortunately was complete before Snowpocalypse (pictured here) came to Durham. 

Although that was the largest thing, we've had a few other plumbing issues come up.

1. It was clear after our home inspection that one of our bathrooms had enough water damage/rotting wood in the floor that filling the tub might result in a sort of cable-less elevator situation riding downward into the crawl space. We weren't sure whether the tub/toilet/sink in that bathroom had an ongoing leak, or whether it was old damage. We've subsequently had the toilet and sink cleared, and are deferring use of the tub until we can replace the subfloor and flooring and make sure that the walls are made of something other than mold.

2. The upstairs bathroom is just the sort of endearing space that I love and that normal height people cannot comfortably navigate. We've been somewhat uncertain as to whether water leaks from the fixtures here also, and so have limited usage in that bathroom.

Good luck peeing standing up, gentlemen over 5' tall...

3. The other downstairs bathroom, which we referred to as "the functional bathroom" prior to confirming it was safe to use the toilet and sink in the other downstairs bathroom, is also a work in progress. All of the fixtures seemed to work, which we considered a win, but there was only a tub and no shower. Eli, who likes to drink from the tub preferentially, did not mind, but it was not working well for Lynn and I. 

Although Lynn has done the lion's share of the house work, I did participate in the conversion of the tub to a shower! I learned more about plumber's putty and pipe joint sealant than I ever really wanted to know, and can now recognize "the plumbing guy" at Home Depot. Prior to completing this, I was drawing a "quick" bath each morning before work, which is not really a thing that people do... Now I've installed the shower and Lynn has hung the shower curtain, which was really the much more significant task. We removed a hideous cabinet from the wall and have learned a great deal about mounting things to plaster. 

 The faucet removed from the tub. You'll notice that part of the metal is spontaneously disintegrating because it's so old and corroded. That curved water spout piece was the closest we had to a functional "shower" for a few weeks...

Eli looks disparagingly at the disassembled faucet. 

Removing the cabinet revealed several interesting prior paint choices in the bathroom. You can also see where there was a different shape of window previously. 

The upside-down bathroom cabinet is a temporary stand-in for pantry shelves!

And the shower works!

Step 3: Remove the ugly/dangerous/dirty things from the ceilings.

It had not previously occurred to me that there were so many ugly/dangerous/dirty things that could be on ceilings. I think I'd imagined that anything dirty would fall down from the top of the room, rendering the floor filthy, but somehow leaving the ceiling pristine. Not so. The original ceilings in our place are bead board - planks of wood with rounded edges and a groove in the middle such that it looks like twice as many smaller boards. On top of the [undoubtedly lead based] paint on these gems was a layer of wallpaper (likely with asbestos), and then eight inches of cobwebs and random wires and extension cords, and then a drop ceiling. As those things have come down, we've only found one hole in the ceiling, and it's small. 

Work-life has been busy, so this step has been almost entirely conducted without me present, but still consulting on the phone and demanding constant photos of the progress. Here's how things are looking:

The bedroom with the drop ceiling tiles removed, but with the frame still up and the wallpaper underneath. It almost looks like a geometric pattern, but it's really just water damage...

The ceiling revealed, including a small hole...

The bedroom in its current glory. This time it's the air scrubber sitting jauntily by the fireplace. You can particularly appreciate in this photo that the white paint on the walls stops where the drop ceiling was placed. It now gives this wild edging effect wherein there is white paint, and then about six inches of unpainted faux-wood paneling, then a gap with crazy looking wallpaper, then the picture molding, then the ceiling. Somehow beyond shabby chic...

The living room ceiling is the same material, but a slightly different color of blue-gray. Also, there is still peel-and-stick linoleum in there. I think the previous residents kept the linoleum company in business. There are miles of it...

Overall the bead board is in good shape, and it's beautiful. Once it's scraped and repainted (with lead-safe masks, mom, really) it will be restored to it's former glory. 

I'll leave you with a funny list of how this move has altered my search history in my phone seemingly irrevocably. When I type the word "Durham" into Google, it prompts me for the following items:

• Durham Toilet Rebate Program
• Durham dispose of bulky items
• Durham bike groups

In fairness, I did once Google the toilet rebate program after seeing an ad for it on a television in a lunch place. Only in recent weeks have I heard "Do you need a more water efficient toilet?" on a television and thought, "Why yes, I do!"

Step 2: Connect the top and the bottom floors

When the house was built, it was used as a rooming house. Judging from the holes and patches in the walls, it seems that at some point it may have been configured as a duplex. Most recently it was set up as two separate apartments, a larger one on the first floor and a smaller on the second floor. In order to achieve this, the stairwell in the middle of the house was boarded up. There were a series of two-by-fours, two-by-eights, and two-by-unclear-slightly-larger-amounts which were nailed to a frame of two-by-fours, and then plywood was nailed over the whole thing. The general approach to building this separation seems to have been that more and larger nails were better - no need for screws or other building materials that are easily removed. 

The first of the plywood comes up. As an aside, we don't have any lights upstairs right now, so this stunning photo shoot lighting is from a phone and the crack in the "floorboards". 

Lynn uses the sledgehammer to remove another board. She's kneeling on a weird long step/platform that was also built in, presumably for some security purpose I cannot fathom. 

The stairwell revealed!

Completely connected!

I'll have to make a point tomorrow of taking a picture of the sawed-off banister that is hot glued into the wall. 

Step 1: Remove the ugly/dangerous/dirty things from the floors.

There are so many ways to define the beginning of adulthood. Those of us who are still trainees in our 30's tend to spend a lot of time justifying that we transitioned to being "real adults" when we graduate from college, started supporting ourselves and our scholarly endeavors, moved away, became a "real doctor," or completed all of the training necessary for licensure and board certification. I will stand by my insistence in all of these milestones as markers of a truly adult existence, but will qualify that by staying that I've come to believe that there is not really a firm threshold to cross from young person to adult. 

And then we bought a house. As a milestone, it's out of reach for so many that adulthood certainly can't be predicated on home ownership. In the setting of the recent financial crisis, frankly, it seems imprudent to even suggest that signing for a mortgage is a right of passage. Nonetheless, I don't know that I've ever felt more like an adult than when we sat and, rather anticlimactically I might add, signed on the dotted lines and received the keys to our new home. 

As soon as the deed was registered, we started on the massive project that I anticipate chronicling here: restoring a 1933 gem to it's previous glory. There are layers of tile and carpet over the hardwood floors. The paint on the door frames and baseboards is so thick that they appear rounded in places, and there is certainly lead in the deeper layers. There are likely asbestos-filled wallpaper and tiles in many rooms, and although less medically ill-advised, the decor choices in most of the rooms were not good. 

Step 1: Remove the ugly/dangerous/dirty things from the floors. 

 Distressing carpet gives way to bright green carpet pad, which is stapled to thin wood paneling over the original hardwood floors. Oh, and some of what were supposed to be delicate nails holding the tack strip around the edges are actually 2.5" carpentry nails. 

 The first real glimpse of the hardwood floors. 

The shop vac poses jauntily with the fully uncovered hardwood floors.