Home improvements are finally on the horizon: my loan was approved last week. On Monday, the roofer came to the house to help me pick out the shingle color (slate) and the gutter color (charcoal). I spent most of Sunday afternoon in the suburbs, driving around to address after address provided by the roofing company to check out shingle colors. I thought I had it all planned out: a taupe-y color called Barkwood was my pick. When I told the roofer on Monday, he poo-poohed that idea and told me "shingle colors look totally different depending on the color of the house." So my trip to the burbs was a total waste of time. Still, I made him crawl up on the roof with a big swatch of Barkwood to prove to me that he was right. He was. It looked awful. He put his color pick up there--a shingle called Weathered Wood. Not bad. Then I remembered my friend Lisa and her advice. Lisa is an artist, architect, and designer, and I bug her all the time with questions about the house. I'd asked her to recommend a roof color, and she said, "soft, warm grey. Definitely." Really? On a red brick house? I doubted her. Still, I said to the roofer dude, do you have anything in a warm grey? He rooted around in the back of his truck and pulled out a grey swatch. "This one is my favorite," he said. "Slate." He climbed up, threw it on the roof, and Voila! Lisa was right...again! Tomorrow I have to call to set the roofing date. There's no turning back now.
Next week, I have a mason coming on Wednesday to look at my chimneys to see if they need any tuck pointing. Next Friday, the electrician comes to install the bathroom fan. It's going to be pretty crazy around here this year. I have a long list of things on my house to-do list, and it's getting longer. I came home from work the other day, and I couldn't open the front door. I went in another door, but I couldn't open the front door from the inside either. The old knob has finally given up. It was then that I really noticed how warped the 1935 door is. Looks like I might have to add that to the list. You know, I'm a little concerned that the house has realized that the loan was approved, and now it has just decided to stop trying to hold its old self together. Things could get ugly fast.
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Thursday, September 20, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Kidnap Your Professor
A few weeks ago, I received an email from one of my summer study abroad kids. She's involved in a student organization at school, and they were trying to launch a new fundraising event for Homecoming. She was writing to me and to a handful of other professors to see if they'd be interested in helping in an event called "Kidnap Your Professor." Here's how it works. Somebody from the organization comes to your class and explains that the group is trying to raise money for a big homecoming event. If students in the class put enough money in the red bucket the student has brought to class, their professor will be "kidnapped" one day during the semester; in other words, class will be canceled for the day. Several professors signed on, so whichever class raised the most would win and their professor would be nabbed. Oh...they also promised to give the winning class a pizza party on another class day. I thought it was a fun idea, so I said "sure, sign me up."
On Tuesday, the student organizer visited both of my composition classes. She is an international student from Estonia, cute as a button, and she did a great job of being over-the-top enthusiastic about the whole event. I thought it was extra charming when her nervousness caused her to refer to the homecoming float they were going to build as "the floater." She left the room, leaving behind the red bucket. Despite her enthusiasm, my 9:30 class raised a whopping $5 to have me kidnapped. Things were worse in my 11am class: the organizer made her speech, left the red bucket, and, at the end of the class, there was not a single red cent in the red plastic bucket. Nothing. Alas, I won't be kidnapped any time soon.
I don't know how the other professors did, but I did hear that somebody raised $10 in one of his classes. I've decided that it's okay that my students didn't donate. While they might not have shown team spirit on the whole homecoming event thing, they didn't rush the bucket with wads of bills in hand, eager to rid themselves of me for a day. That's right: it's all about me and my continual attempts to spin things to keep my little ego from being bruised. Maybe the organizers should consider a Kidnap Your Students event. I know quite a few professors who would dig deep and donate to have their students disappear for a day.
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On Tuesday, the student organizer visited both of my composition classes. She is an international student from Estonia, cute as a button, and she did a great job of being over-the-top enthusiastic about the whole event. I thought it was extra charming when her nervousness caused her to refer to the homecoming float they were going to build as "the floater." She left the room, leaving behind the red bucket. Despite her enthusiasm, my 9:30 class raised a whopping $5 to have me kidnapped. Things were worse in my 11am class: the organizer made her speech, left the red bucket, and, at the end of the class, there was not a single red cent in the red plastic bucket. Nothing. Alas, I won't be kidnapped any time soon.
I don't know how the other professors did, but I did hear that somebody raised $10 in one of his classes. I've decided that it's okay that my students didn't donate. While they might not have shown team spirit on the whole homecoming event thing, they didn't rush the bucket with wads of bills in hand, eager to rid themselves of me for a day. That's right: it's all about me and my continual attempts to spin things to keep my little ego from being bruised. Maybe the organizers should consider a Kidnap Your Students event. I know quite a few professors who would dig deep and donate to have their students disappear for a day.
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Monday, September 10, 2012
Deco and Dessert
New things come in some pretty fancy packages--this month, at least. My friend John, a former student of ours named Liz, and her husband, Nate had a swanky brunch at the Hilton Netherland Plaza Hotel in downtown Cincinnati.
The hotel is a real jewel of a building--a French Art Deco jewel. The hotel opened in 1931, and according to The National Trust for Historic Preservation, the main lobby and mezzanine sport "a half-acre of rare Brazilian rosewood, extensive use of German silver, and a stylized Egyptian decor reinforced with delicate floral motifs. There are also exquisitely detailed frescoes, ceiling murals, an original Rookwood fountain with a pair of matching seahorses, and the refined Restaurants at Palm Court, which includes Orchids at Palm Court—voted as the top restaurant in Cincinnati (Zagat, 2012) and one of the top 100 restaurants in the US (OpenTable, 2010 and 2011)." Our super swanky brunch was at Orchids. Here's the restaurant.
Here're some lobby details.
The brunch buffet included (hang onto your hats) a meat carving bar serving roast suckling pig and prime rib, an omelet station, a salad table with five or six amazing salads, a breakfast area with eggs Benedict, Belgian waffles, bacon, and sausage, a country-style section that included fired chicken and au gratin potatoes; a bloody Mary station; a seafood table with shrimp, smoked salmon, and smoked trout, a bread table with muffins, Danishes, sweet rolls, and dinner rolls; and a dessert table: cobbler, three kinds of cake, four kinds of tarts, chocolate covered strawberries, and several kinds of bar cookies. It was the most extravagant display of food I've seen in one place ever. I was glad I took inventory of the options before I loaded up, or I would have been carrying five plates back to the table instead of one. I'm pleased to say that I stuck to the salads and seafood, though I don't guess that any of it was lo-cal. I am not pleased to report that I ate four teeny tarts and two chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. They were fabulous. Brunch wasn't cheap, but it was really yummy.
Afterwards, we walked upstairs to see the lovely Hall of Mirrors. It's supposed to be modeled after the Palace of Versailles. See what you think:
Here's the real Hall of Mirrors in France:
I was just reading that the Cincy Hall of Mirrors is said to be haunted. A so-called "Lady in Green" is said to wander around the Hall of Mirrors and Mezzanine level of the hotel. According to hotel lore, the lady's hubby was a construction worker who was killed in the building of the hotel in 1930. Legend has it that his body was never recovered, so now the Lady in Green wanders the halls searching for him. I can report that I did not see her today.
We wandered into some other really cool rooms and marveled at the deco details. One room--I think it was the Continental--had these amazing lights all around the room:
All in all, it was a lovely way to spend a September day, even if it was a diet-buster of a new thing.
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The hotel is a real jewel of a building--a French Art Deco jewel. The hotel opened in 1931, and according to The National Trust for Historic Preservation, the main lobby and mezzanine sport "a half-acre of rare Brazilian rosewood, extensive use of German silver, and a stylized Egyptian decor reinforced with delicate floral motifs. There are also exquisitely detailed frescoes, ceiling murals, an original Rookwood fountain with a pair of matching seahorses, and the refined Restaurants at Palm Court, which includes Orchids at Palm Court—voted as the top restaurant in Cincinnati (Zagat, 2012) and one of the top 100 restaurants in the US (OpenTable, 2010 and 2011)." Our super swanky brunch was at Orchids. Here's the restaurant.
Here're some lobby details.
The brunch buffet included (hang onto your hats) a meat carving bar serving roast suckling pig and prime rib, an omelet station, a salad table with five or six amazing salads, a breakfast area with eggs Benedict, Belgian waffles, bacon, and sausage, a country-style section that included fired chicken and au gratin potatoes; a bloody Mary station; a seafood table with shrimp, smoked salmon, and smoked trout, a bread table with muffins, Danishes, sweet rolls, and dinner rolls; and a dessert table: cobbler, three kinds of cake, four kinds of tarts, chocolate covered strawberries, and several kinds of bar cookies. It was the most extravagant display of food I've seen in one place ever. I was glad I took inventory of the options before I loaded up, or I would have been carrying five plates back to the table instead of one. I'm pleased to say that I stuck to the salads and seafood, though I don't guess that any of it was lo-cal. I am not pleased to report that I ate four teeny tarts and two chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. They were fabulous. Brunch wasn't cheap, but it was really yummy.
Afterwards, we walked upstairs to see the lovely Hall of Mirrors. It's supposed to be modeled after the Palace of Versailles. See what you think:
Here's the real Hall of Mirrors in France:
I was just reading that the Cincy Hall of Mirrors is said to be haunted. A so-called "Lady in Green" is said to wander around the Hall of Mirrors and Mezzanine level of the hotel. According to hotel lore, the lady's hubby was a construction worker who was killed in the building of the hotel in 1930. Legend has it that his body was never recovered, so now the Lady in Green wanders the halls searching for him. I can report that I did not see her today.
We wandered into some other really cool rooms and marveled at the deco details. One room--I think it was the Continental--had these amazing lights all around the room:
All in all, it was a lovely way to spend a September day, even if it was a diet-buster of a new thing.
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Monday, September 3, 2012
An Application to Home Improvement Hell
My new thing in August and September has been a real pain in the butt. I'm in the early stages of home improvement hell, and if things go as planned, my agony will be year-long. My fingers are crossed that it will also be pretty great in the end, though.
Last month, I got three estimates from roofing companies for a full tear-down and reroofing, gutters and downspouts included. I knew when I bought the house, fourteen years ago this month, that I'd need a new roof. It only started leaking this year, though, so I shouldn't complain. What I can complain about is the cost: two layers of old shingles, combined with a very steep pitch equals a pricey job. That's where my new thing comes in: a home improvement loan. My county has a program that offers low interest loans for permanent home improvements (in other words, no appliances or pools allowed). At 1.57%, the time seemed right, so I've been spending my free time completing paperwork, making phone calls, and requesting estimates for weeks now. Along with the roof, I plan to have a water damaged walk-in closet redone, have my attic insulated, get a few new doors on the house, and, if there's any money left, start updating my kitchen.
The county mandates that with a "HIP" loan, all of the work must be completed in a year, so I'll be living in a construction zone for a while. My 1935 house deserves some sprucing up. Here's hoping I can survive this act of good stewardship.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Last month, I got three estimates from roofing companies for a full tear-down and reroofing, gutters and downspouts included. I knew when I bought the house, fourteen years ago this month, that I'd need a new roof. It only started leaking this year, though, so I shouldn't complain. What I can complain about is the cost: two layers of old shingles, combined with a very steep pitch equals a pricey job. That's where my new thing comes in: a home improvement loan. My county has a program that offers low interest loans for permanent home improvements (in other words, no appliances or pools allowed). At 1.57%, the time seemed right, so I've been spending my free time completing paperwork, making phone calls, and requesting estimates for weeks now. Along with the roof, I plan to have a water damaged walk-in closet redone, have my attic insulated, get a few new doors on the house, and, if there's any money left, start updating my kitchen.
The county mandates that with a "HIP" loan, all of the work must be completed in a year, so I'll be living in a construction zone for a while. My 1935 house deserves some sprucing up. Here's hoping I can survive this act of good stewardship.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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