May I Vent?

I know, oh I know that there are those so much worse off than I am.

Women with cancer

Women in abusive relationships

Women that are homeless or on the verge of losing their home

Mothers with children that are ill or overseas fighting this endless war

But, May I vent anyway?

First, I have found that the older that I get the more that I crave a peaceful existence. I am reminded every day of the Frugal Gourmet who would end his show saying: "I bid you peace". Wow, how simple, but how powerful.

I don't need nor do I want a lot of material possessions any more. I want an orderly comfortable home, good health to me and mine, and peace.

Peace.

Freedom from melodrama

Freedom from conflict

Which seems to be the one thing I am not allowed to have. (Don't we always crave what we don't have?)

I don't know if I have mentioned the money pit that I inherited from my mother. It is a vintage apartment building in a very up and coming neighborhood in Chicago. I am sure at one time it was quite the showcase of the neighborhood. When you look closely you can see the shadows of her graceful youth

The ornate moldings. The huge oak mantles above the fireplaces. The built in china cabinets in the dining rooms. What was once a grand sweeping staircase in the hallway. The marble in the entryway.

But not all of the apartments have these things. Over the last almost century and a half, many things were replaced or just removed.

These days, everyone wants green and modern. Not the echo of an ornate past.

So once again we have tenants moving out. Tenants that have not paid their rent for the last couple of months. Tenants that have no reluctance to leave a fithy apartment behind.

Did I mention that I never wanted this building?

That it makes no profit?

That it breaks even only when everyone pays their rent?

So I am off to check out "the building". To paint. To sand. To pray that people pay their rent.

To pray the housing market improves so I can sell it and after paying off the sizeable mortgage and debt, distribute the small proceeds to my siblings.

And maybe, just maybe, be at peace.

TA DA!

The finished bathroom! The pics really don't do it justice. It is so calming, so peaceful that the past three weeks of living out of a suitcase, inches of dust on everything and many thousands of dollars later were worth it.

Now excuse me, I think I need to sleep in the tub

During

HOT DAMN! A WALL!

Demo

And to think I was considering staying here while they did this

Before

The before pics:




You're welcome

And Pat Benatar Played on the Radio

Today is our 29th Anniversary.

Hard to believe how quickly the time has flown.

I better watch the cliches....any minute now I'll be calling people whipper snappers.

So the SgtMaj is driving to Minnesota for his 37th class reunion. I decided to stay here and let him enjoy his reunion without worrying about me.

This way he can party with people he hasn't seen in almost four decades.

And visit his daughter that he hasn't seen in 10 years as well. I know I would just be in the way and it would be awkward.

So I will be celebrating our anniversary at the Westin with room service and a glass or three of wine.

Happy Anniversary Old Man. Party Hearty and Be Careful.

Where's Ethel When You Need Her?

We've been staying at Staybridge Suites for the last week while the great bathroom rehab begins. (Before pics soon). While the breakfast fare has been a bit lacking, the hotel is comfortable and extremely clean.

Maybe a little too clean now....

I decided to do a little laundry last night (free, btw). They had brand new front loading washers and since I was still reeling over the fact that they were free, I didn't read all of the little stickers posted on the washer.

Like the sticker that said to only use 1/2 the regular amount of detergent.

Yep, that one.

So when I returned to switch everything there was soap suds oozing from the washer. And I mean oozing.

So I think I can just fix it myself by grabbing a few towels from the pool.

No, that didn't work.

I finally had to admit defeat and throw myself on the mercy of the front desk clerk.

And I made the Sgt Maj finish it since I was too embarrased to show my face again.

It took three washings to get all the detergent out.

All I needed at that point was Ethel.