Progress is Our Most Important Product

(I didn't know until I googled it just now where that phrase came from.  But Jerry liked to say it.)

So anyway, some more progress on the Getting Things Accomplished front: Jim from the Friends of the Library came back this morning with a lot of boxes, and the dining room is now clear of books, and the library now has lots of odd things to sell in its book sale (hope someone likes the Russian-Serbian phrasebook.  What was I thinking in 1982 when I picked that one up?).  I was, as my mother would say, ruthless, culling books that I've carted from one domicile to the next for the past thirty years, never looking at them except when I put them in a box or took them out of a box or put them on a shelf or took them off a shelf to put back in a box. If I couldn't sell them on Powell's website, off they went to the library.  I realize there's always other options, like eBay, but I've done that before, and it's not worth the effort it takes to list them, sell them, mail them and hope for payment - by the time I was done, with the exception of a Julia Child first edition I sold right at the time the film version of Julie and Julia came out, I've never made enough on selling them to make it worthwhile.

(Some things I couldn't part with, though.  The Little House books.  The Poldark novels.  Seven Little Australians.)

Right before noon, Steve arrived to see the scariness that is the basement, along with the rest of the house.  Actually, he said the big issue is the foundation (no surprise), but the rest of the house is fine.  Mighty fine, of course, when it comes to the gorgeous woodwork and decorating my honey did.  I will have to take pictures soon to post on this blog, to brag on my honey.  So the things I had Steve make note of to give me options and estimates for are the basement in general; the weird "dirt room" next to Jerry's tool room, where the dirt foundation in the basement was never walled off at all (I think some sort of wall in there would be a good idea); a general inspection of the roof to make sure no other tiles need replacing in addition to the corner I already know about; the stairs to the porch, which are rotting; possibly larger and better-placed gutters; a landscape timber that needs to be replaced; the laundry sink, which is really old and needs to be replaced, plus the drainpipe keeps clogging; various plumbing things (toilet, sink) in the upstairs bathroom; and possibly painting the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom.

Of course, things might look different once he gives me an estimate, and I might discover some things aren't quite as urgent as others.  Clearly the foundation is job number one.

I called the chimney cleaners after Steve left, and arranged to have them come out next week to do the annual cleaning.  We usually had that done in September, but I don't see any reason to wait - it's not like I'll be building fires in the fireplace between now and then, unless global warming screws up the climate even faster than it already is doing and it snows in August.  And maybe not even then - the fireplace was one of those Things That Jerry Did - I think of that fireplace, I think of Jerry crouched down in front of it lighting a fire for us, and then snuggling up with him on the couch under a blanket waiting for the room to get warmer.  And then still snuggling up even when the room did get warmer.  A fire in the fireplace without him would be no fun at all.

I told Pam, the woman on the phone, who I was and what I wanted done - she asked if they'd done our chimney before, clearly not finding my name on her computer, and I realized the problem and told her "It's probably in my husband's name..." - and then she found it, and I had to ask her to change the name to mine, and told her why, and she spent the next five minutes sounding shocked and horrified and sad - it's a family-run business, and her husband, the owner I think, has been out to the house several times, back when they were tuck-pointing the chimney, so they know who their customers are, I guess, even if, in her case, she hadn't met us in person.  I suspect I'm probably telling people I have no need to tell - Pam, Jim from the library - but I don't seem able to stop myself.  It's like I want to shout it at everyone I see, people I pass by in the store, people on the street, I want to yell at them and say, Don't you realize the world has come to an end??? Don't you realize life is over??? Don't you realize what an empty place this world is now???  Why aren't you all just standing around crying???

Off to Sears after lunch, to pick up the two 35-pint dehumidifiers I ordered on line this morning to replace the defunct 50-pint dehumidifier.  I figured the smaller ones would be easier for me to lift, and I was able to get them into the basement and operating - plus I can put them in different areas at the same time.  Seamus said he'll get the old one out of there for me, so I don't have to lift it myself, which I appreciate.  We also have an old gas-run lawn mower we bought  a long time ago from a guy who refurbished lawn mowers.  It didn't last long, and eventually we bought an electric one and ran it with a very long extension cord.  Then Jerry started his master plan to plant the yard with native grasses, so no more mowing... and now the yard's an overgrown jungle only part of the way towards Jerry's goal.  I think this weekend I'll go out there, slathered in bug spray, and try to trim things back a bit.  Anyway, the old lawn mower will also go the way of the dead dehumidifier, along with an old black and white TV that's been in the basement since we moved in, the dead bread machine, and who knows what other dead appliances that are hiding down there.

So that was it for accomplishments today, I think.

Just saw an item on one of the entertainment blogs saying that Andre Royo has been cast in the next season of Fringe.  Oh, I must tell Jerry! I thought.  He'll like Bubs showing up on the show he likes to call "Fringgg."