"Staging" was pain in the butt, it's true, but there was also finishing the niggly little things that you never get around to that now had to be fixed. To be honest, most of the "nigglies" didn't have to be addressed but I wanted them finished.
When you spend so much time making a great home it would be remiss to leave silly little deficiencies for the new people to look at for years.
As it transpired, I was pretty happy with the way the place looked on the day of the open house. Tracy worked tirelessly to get the place looking its best and Tanner and I work equally as hard keeping each other occupied.
It probably would have been better to wait a couple of months as, those of you that know our street can attest to, our street looks way more appealing when the leaves are on the trees. But, as I said before, circumstances dictated an immediate sale.
A princely sum of $849,000 was decided upon and on the Wednesday before the Sunday (which was the "open") on the market it went.
You have to leave when there's an open house and unfortunately the "open" coincided with Tanners nap time. So we drove, and we drove, and we drove. To White Rock, it turned out, and a fun time was had by all. That would be everyone else in White Rock except us. Tanner was as miserable as sin. Who could've blamed him?
The "open" was finished at 4 and the house was sold by 7 and Tanner was asleep by 7:10.
Glad that day's over.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Packing
Before we can buy another home we have to sell our present abode. To facilitate this we have to "stage" our house. This is an acronym for Stuff, Take, Away, Get, Elephant or something like that. We had to get rid of a bunch of crap so that the potential new owners could visualize their crap where ours used to be.
Luckily, I had been unsuccesful in selling the cube van, although it didn't seem lucky at the time as we were getting pretty skint. On the other hand, if I were to analyze this even further, it would become apparent that selling the truck would have given us some breathing room and maybe "5930" (our new house) might have been sold by the time we started looking.
So stage we did, this entailed loading up the cube van with stuff from all ove the house and then moving it to an empty garage. This garage is also on the Sunshine Coast, Roberts Creek to be precise.
Never leave a couple of Karens in your house to help you "Stage" it. I know that eventually we would be leaving but that doesn't mean we need to empty the kitchen drawers of everyday cooking utensils. I'm sure that the new people can envisage their measuring spoons in a drawer without ours having to have been removed.
2 weeks before the open house and me vacuum packer has gone! WHAT'S A MAN TO DO?
It seemed to me that there was a lot of stuff gone already and once we got rid of all the furniture from the student rooms there wouldn't be too much stuff left. Really how much more stuff is there?
You know where this is going.
Luckily, I had been unsuccesful in selling the cube van, although it didn't seem lucky at the time as we were getting pretty skint. On the other hand, if I were to analyze this even further, it would become apparent that selling the truck would have given us some breathing room and maybe "5930" (our new house) might have been sold by the time we started looking.
So stage we did, this entailed loading up the cube van with stuff from all ove the house and then moving it to an empty garage. This garage is also on the Sunshine Coast, Roberts Creek to be precise.
Never leave a couple of Karens in your house to help you "Stage" it. I know that eventually we would be leaving but that doesn't mean we need to empty the kitchen drawers of everyday cooking utensils. I'm sure that the new people can envisage their measuring spoons in a drawer without ours having to have been removed.
2 weeks before the open house and me vacuum packer has gone! WHAT'S A MAN TO DO?
It seemed to me that there was a lot of stuff gone already and once we got rid of all the furniture from the student rooms there wouldn't be too much stuff left. Really how much more stuff is there?
You know where this is going.
Sechelt
Well here we are, no posts for quite some time and so much has changed.
Circumstances dictated a major change, so our plans to move to the Sunshine Coast got, shall we say, accelerated, moved up, just a tad.
Not being one to harp on the whys or wherefores let me just say that it took only 2 trips to the Sunshine Coast before we found a place that we both decided was "the one".
All that was left to do was to pack and move.....
Circumstances dictated a major change, so our plans to move to the Sunshine Coast got, shall we say, accelerated, moved up, just a tad.
Not being one to harp on the whys or wherefores let me just say that it took only 2 trips to the Sunshine Coast before we found a place that we both decided was "the one".
All that was left to do was to pack and move.....
Friday, February 26, 2010
The evil deed is done.
Left it way too long to write stuff down but here goes.
The evil deed is done.
After a couple too many comments about how Tanner had “modern” hair, I decided that it had to go.
Auntie Karen made a valiant attempt at shearing the little fella. An attempt, I might add, that came with strategy.
The strategy was to bathe him in the kitchen sink and cut his hair while he was in there. I only caught the end of the adventure and entertaining it was.
I walked into the kitchen to see Tanner in the sink with Tracy trying to entertain him and Auntie dashing in and out with scissors flying left and right. All things considered, it turned out pretty well, the “Spock” sideburns had gone and the back didn’t cross his collar anymore.
Spock Sideburns
3 weeks later, “Spock” sideburns were back and he was looking like Isaac again. For those of you that have never met Isaac he has the quintessential “modern” haircut.
Nothing wrong with the way Isaac looks but it’s his choice. If it was my choice, Issac too, would have a “normal” haircut.
Isaacs "modern haircut"
So that’s how we ended up at Brentwood mall looking for the kid friendly barber/hairdresser, not sure which one it is.
After wandering around for awhile, he likes going up and down in the elevator anyway, we found the place.
It was really cool actually, the chairs looked like the rides outside Safeway and there were lcd TV’s playing Dora.
Dora is “Dora the Explorer”. Tanner’s never seen it, so I knew it was going to be no help.
Unlike with last episode at the shearing shed, he didn’t scream when I put him “in the chair” but it didn’t take long.
As soon as he saw the shears he obviously had flashbacks to the lovely Vietnamese lady (and I truly mean that, she was really nice) and the screaming started.
The cool looking seats (I opted for the red racing car) had no seatbelts which is, in my opinion, a major design flaw. So I had to manually restrain him, which started of as just keeping his arms down and then progressed to holding his head still with both hands.
Now, the shears don’t hurt, not in the slightest, and I think he realized that. As the torture went on he would stop crying as soon as she lifted the shears away from his head and then start as soon as they touched him again.
I could see in his face that he had gotten to the point where he knew it wasn’t that bad and really, it didn’t hurt at all "but I’ve started so I’ll finish" he thought to himself. He was crying for the sake of it and I knew it. Now kid , I have the upper hand, this is it, it’s a haircut, it’s not surgery, get over it.
And then she changed weapons, out came the scissors “oh no” I thought.
Then the real screaming began.
He was fine as soon as I took him out of the chair and the nice lady even laminated a lock of hair.
“see you in six months” she said “not if I can help it” he replied.
Hey! Yesterday you could only say cookie!
Maybe I imagined that last bit.
So here's the final product, ignore what's in his mouth, but check out the gel at the front. Needless to say, we don't do that.
The evil deed is done.
After a couple too many comments about how Tanner had “modern” hair, I decided that it had to go.
Auntie Karen made a valiant attempt at shearing the little fella. An attempt, I might add, that came with strategy.
The strategy was to bathe him in the kitchen sink and cut his hair while he was in there. I only caught the end of the adventure and entertaining it was.
I walked into the kitchen to see Tanner in the sink with Tracy trying to entertain him and Auntie dashing in and out with scissors flying left and right. All things considered, it turned out pretty well, the “Spock” sideburns had gone and the back didn’t cross his collar anymore.
Spock Sideburns
3 weeks later, “Spock” sideburns were back and he was looking like Isaac again. For those of you that have never met Isaac he has the quintessential “modern” haircut.
Nothing wrong with the way Isaac looks but it’s his choice. If it was my choice, Issac too, would have a “normal” haircut.
Isaacs "modern haircut"
So that’s how we ended up at Brentwood mall looking for the kid friendly barber/hairdresser, not sure which one it is.
After wandering around for awhile, he likes going up and down in the elevator anyway, we found the place.
It was really cool actually, the chairs looked like the rides outside Safeway and there were lcd TV’s playing Dora.
Dora is “Dora the Explorer”. Tanner’s never seen it, so I knew it was going to be no help.
Unlike with last episode at the shearing shed, he didn’t scream when I put him “in the chair” but it didn’t take long.
As soon as he saw the shears he obviously had flashbacks to the lovely Vietnamese lady (and I truly mean that, she was really nice) and the screaming started.
The cool looking seats (I opted for the red racing car) had no seatbelts which is, in my opinion, a major design flaw. So I had to manually restrain him, which started of as just keeping his arms down and then progressed to holding his head still with both hands.
Now, the shears don’t hurt, not in the slightest, and I think he realized that. As the torture went on he would stop crying as soon as she lifted the shears away from his head and then start as soon as they touched him again.
I could see in his face that he had gotten to the point where he knew it wasn’t that bad and really, it didn’t hurt at all "but I’ve started so I’ll finish" he thought to himself. He was crying for the sake of it and I knew it. Now kid , I have the upper hand, this is it, it’s a haircut, it’s not surgery, get over it.
And then she changed weapons, out came the scissors “oh no” I thought.
Then the real screaming began.
He was fine as soon as I took him out of the chair and the nice lady even laminated a lock of hair.
“see you in six months” she said “not if I can help it” he replied.
Hey! Yesterday you could only say cookie!
Maybe I imagined that last bit.
So here's the final product, ignore what's in his mouth, but check out the gel at the front. Needless to say, we don't do that.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Little Boy Lost
We went to "Kindagym" at the Trout Lake Community centre today.
It's a fun thing for the kids to do, huge room, well, gymnasium, I guess. Not familiar with gyms really, so I guess they're all big rooms. Anyway, big room with lots of cool toys. Backyard kind of toys, large things, made of plastic, multi-coloured, cool stuff if you're less than 3 feet tall.
Tanner had made a beeline for the "castle". Not a multi-coloured castle, a grey one, but made of plastic nonetheless. There's a door and a slide and a turret and everything.
He was having a great time and I was just talking with another dad, when I looked down.
There he was, bottom lip wobbling, but not really crying, looking up at me and the other dad.
"What's the matter pal?" I asked
He garbled something that was totally incoherent.
Josh (the other dad) said ""what's up buddy?"
This was obviously a more recognizable question and not spoken in a foreign language because the response came back.
" I, I, I can't find my mum"
Now that he had said it out loud there were tears.
You have to bear in mind, that in a room where there are 20 or so adults and he's talking to the only 2 fellas, Finding his mum was a daunting task for me and Josh.
Even a 3 year old knows that you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But do 3 year olds know what "strange" means?
The look on his face when I ventured my next question told me he hadn't, but he did now.
"What does she look like?
The look said "ah, this is what they mean by strange. That dude's 285lbs, talks funny, and asks stupid questions. That has to be "strange" "
I wasn't sure if he was listening so I had made another attempt.
"Can you see her?" I asked gesturing around the room from my 6' 2" vantage point.
There was a plastic castle obscuring his view.
He'd stopped sobbing at least. Totally bewildered by the stupid questions, I guess.
I have to say that it is quite awkward trying to talk to a kid you don't know. I thought about rushing over and scooping up Tanner in an attempt to say "Look, it's okay, I'm a dad, I'm not strange" but I didn't. I just asked the same stupid question again.
"What does she look like"
No answer. I wanted to ask "what is she wearing? Is she Blonde? Brunette? Redhead? Is she fat? Thin? Is she cute?
I asked again "what does she look like?
No sooner had the words left my mouth when the quizzical look fell away from his face
"she, she, she, looks, she looks, she looks like my mum."
"Of course she does" I said
It was at this point Josh took over, picked him up and started walking towards the woman who was obviously looking for her child.
It's a fun thing for the kids to do, huge room, well, gymnasium, I guess. Not familiar with gyms really, so I guess they're all big rooms. Anyway, big room with lots of cool toys. Backyard kind of toys, large things, made of plastic, multi-coloured, cool stuff if you're less than 3 feet tall.
Tanner had made a beeline for the "castle". Not a multi-coloured castle, a grey one, but made of plastic nonetheless. There's a door and a slide and a turret and everything.
He was having a great time and I was just talking with another dad, when I looked down.
There he was, bottom lip wobbling, but not really crying, looking up at me and the other dad.
"What's the matter pal?" I asked
He garbled something that was totally incoherent.
Josh (the other dad) said ""what's up buddy?"
This was obviously a more recognizable question and not spoken in a foreign language because the response came back.
" I, I, I can't find my mum"
Now that he had said it out loud there were tears.
You have to bear in mind, that in a room where there are 20 or so adults and he's talking to the only 2 fellas, Finding his mum was a daunting task for me and Josh.
Even a 3 year old knows that you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But do 3 year olds know what "strange" means?
The look on his face when I ventured my next question told me he hadn't, but he did now.
"What does she look like?
The look said "ah, this is what they mean by strange. That dude's 285lbs, talks funny, and asks stupid questions. That has to be "strange" "
I wasn't sure if he was listening so I had made another attempt.
"Can you see her?" I asked gesturing around the room from my 6' 2" vantage point.
There was a plastic castle obscuring his view.
He'd stopped sobbing at least. Totally bewildered by the stupid questions, I guess.
I have to say that it is quite awkward trying to talk to a kid you don't know. I thought about rushing over and scooping up Tanner in an attempt to say "Look, it's okay, I'm a dad, I'm not strange" but I didn't. I just asked the same stupid question again.
"What does she look like"
No answer. I wanted to ask "what is she wearing? Is she Blonde? Brunette? Redhead? Is she fat? Thin? Is she cute?
I asked again "what does she look like?
No sooner had the words left my mouth when the quizzical look fell away from his face
"she, she, she, looks, she looks, she looks like my mum."
"Of course she does" I said
It was at this point Josh took over, picked him up and started walking towards the woman who was obviously looking for her child.
Friday, January 29, 2010
The Saffir-Simpson hurricane scale
I thought there should be a rating scale for diapers, you know, like the Richter scale for earthquakes. Richter didn't seem appropriate, more for farts really. As when sitting on a wooden park bench and someone at the other end lets one go, does it rumble the slats or not? Of course there could be a Richter component but that starts to get complicated.
Then I thought of the Saffir-Simpson scale which is used to measure hurricanes. Mmmm, there's wind, rain and damage. That could work, so here it is.
Category 1 hurricane
75 - 95 mph winds
Damage primarily to trees and un-anchored mobile homes; some coastal flooding.
Category 1 Diaper (1 baby wipe)
75 - 90 grams of poo
Damage limited to small pellet sized poo balls. No fluids present.
Category 2 hurricane
96 -110 mph winds
Some damage to roofs, doors, windows, trees and shrubbery; flooding damage to piers.
Category 2 Diaper (2 baby wipes)
96 -110 grams of poo
Damage has arrived in larger quantities than Category 1, damage detectable by faint odour as the event passes by. Damp from peeing.
Category 3 hurricane
111 - 130 mph winds
Some structural damage; large trees blown down; flooding near shoreline and possibly inland; mobile homes destroyed.
Category 3 Diaper (3 baby wipes)
111 - 130 grams of poo
Damage easily recognized by the aroma wafting around the room/car. Substantially greater quantities of pee. Diaper makes a thud as it hits the bottom of the garbage can.
Category 4 hurricane
131 - 155 mph winds
Extensive damage to doors and windows; major damage to lower floors near shore; terrain may be flooded well inland.
Category 4 Diaper (4 baby wipes)
131 - 155 grams of poo
Saved up a whole days worth of eating for this one. Last nights dinner easily recognizable, what's that? Oh, blueberries. How can you smell this bad? Good grief, it's almost to the top of the diaper. Makes a squishing sound from the pee.
I would like to add that it is at this stage the task is handed over to the "primary caregiver" as mum (or dad) can't handle it.
Category 5 hurricane
More than 155 mph winds
Complete roof failure and some building failures; massive evacuation; flooding causes major damage to lower floors of all shoreline buildings.
Category 5 Diaper (5+ baby wipes)
More crap than you can count
Holy mother of God, it's leaking out of the sides and running down the inside of his sleeper.
The dog leaves the room in disgust.
Your T-shirt needs to be pulled up over your nose as the smell is making your eyes water.
Forgot to get the baby wipes ready first, hold the kid up in the air by his feet (shoulders still on the changing pad) and reach for the wipes with your free hand. Diaper falls to the floor creating a secondary explosion.
Call for reinforcements.
Reinforcements take a step back as they enter the room.
He hasn't finished peeing, he has now.
No amount of baby wipes is going to fix this. OFF TO THE TUB.
Beer.
Then I thought of the Saffir-Simpson scale which is used to measure hurricanes. Mmmm, there's wind, rain and damage. That could work, so here it is.
Category 1 hurricane
75 - 95 mph winds
Damage primarily to trees and un-anchored mobile homes; some coastal flooding.
Category 1 Diaper (1 baby wipe)
75 - 90 grams of poo
Damage limited to small pellet sized poo balls. No fluids present.
Category 2 hurricane
96 -110 mph winds
Some damage to roofs, doors, windows, trees and shrubbery; flooding damage to piers.
Category 2 Diaper (2 baby wipes)
96 -110 grams of poo
Damage has arrived in larger quantities than Category 1, damage detectable by faint odour as the event passes by. Damp from peeing.
Category 3 hurricane
111 - 130 mph winds
Some structural damage; large trees blown down; flooding near shoreline and possibly inland; mobile homes destroyed.
Category 3 Diaper (3 baby wipes)
111 - 130 grams of poo
Damage easily recognized by the aroma wafting around the room/car. Substantially greater quantities of pee. Diaper makes a thud as it hits the bottom of the garbage can.
Category 4 hurricane
131 - 155 mph winds
Extensive damage to doors and windows; major damage to lower floors near shore; terrain may be flooded well inland.
Category 4 Diaper (4 baby wipes)
131 - 155 grams of poo
Saved up a whole days worth of eating for this one. Last nights dinner easily recognizable, what's that? Oh, blueberries. How can you smell this bad? Good grief, it's almost to the top of the diaper. Makes a squishing sound from the pee.
I would like to add that it is at this stage the task is handed over to the "primary caregiver" as mum (or dad) can't handle it.
Category 5 hurricane
More than 155 mph winds
Complete roof failure and some building failures; massive evacuation; flooding causes major damage to lower floors of all shoreline buildings.
Category 5 Diaper (5+ baby wipes)
More crap than you can count
Holy mother of God, it's leaking out of the sides and running down the inside of his sleeper.
The dog leaves the room in disgust.
Your T-shirt needs to be pulled up over your nose as the smell is making your eyes water.
Forgot to get the baby wipes ready first, hold the kid up in the air by his feet (shoulders still on the changing pad) and reach for the wipes with your free hand. Diaper falls to the floor creating a secondary explosion.
Call for reinforcements.
Reinforcements take a step back as they enter the room.
He hasn't finished peeing, he has now.
No amount of baby wipes is going to fix this. OFF TO THE TUB.
Beer.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Marinated Leg of Lamb (butterflied)
1 leg of lamb, 6 to 7 pounds, boned and butterflied
For Marinade:
3/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup minced fresh rosemary
1/4 cup minced fresh thyme
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons anchovy paste
7 or 8 large cloves garlic, crushed
Trim off any excess fat from the lamb and place it in a 9-by-13-inch pan. Whisk together all the marinade ingredients in a bowl. Scoop out and reserve 1/4 cup of the marinade, and pour the remainder over the lamb. Massage into the meat. Cover and refrigerate for 12 to 24 hours.
Doesn't that just sound awesome?
We're off to Manning for a couple of days and I'm in charge of dinner for Saturday.
This is what I'm making.
There'll be some complaints from Tracy if she spots the mini-barbeque in the back of the truck tomorrow.
she: "what's that for?"
me "dinner"
she "why do you have to take it all the way to Manning?"
me "dinner"
she "Can't you just cook it in the oven, like a normal person?"
me "nope"
At this point Trace will either walk away mumbling or this will go on for 10 minutes or so. Either way I'm cooking it on the mini barbeque.
The marinade came together pretty well. Had to top up the olive oil with a couple of TBSPs of veggie oil. Bought fresh rosemary but unfortunately forgot to find a recipe before buying ingredients.
We have a pretty well stocked cupboard of herbs and I knew I was going with a "Rosemary" marinade, unfortunately, we don't have any thyme, oh well.
Found an extra large ziploc for marinating it in at the bottom of the pantry and noticed a whole box of them at the back.
It was at precisely this moment I thought to myself "maybe I should blow this bag up to see if has any holes in it?". Self thought back "naah, who would put a Ziploc back in the cupboard with a hole in it?".
Self was right, no-one would put a Ziploc back in the cupboard with a hole in it. What use would it be? The whole point of a Ziploc is that it "zips and locks, right?"
Nobody put it back with "a" hole in it, no, not one hole.
This ziploc was apparently a sieve in a previous life poured the marinade in. Out it exited, through more holes than you'll find on a tray of Tim Horton's doughnuts.
The ensuing panic is not worth describing. Suffice it to say, the dog hates rosemary and the Lamb is now resting comfortably inside 2 extra large Ziplocs.
I'll post pictures on Sunday.
For Marinade:
3/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup minced fresh rosemary
1/4 cup minced fresh thyme
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons anchovy paste
7 or 8 large cloves garlic, crushed
Trim off any excess fat from the lamb and place it in a 9-by-13-inch pan. Whisk together all the marinade ingredients in a bowl. Scoop out and reserve 1/4 cup of the marinade, and pour the remainder over the lamb. Massage into the meat. Cover and refrigerate for 12 to 24 hours.
Doesn't that just sound awesome?
We're off to Manning for a couple of days and I'm in charge of dinner for Saturday.
This is what I'm making.
There'll be some complaints from Tracy if she spots the mini-barbeque in the back of the truck tomorrow.
she: "what's that for?"
me "dinner"
she "why do you have to take it all the way to Manning?"
me "dinner"
she "Can't you just cook it in the oven, like a normal person?"
me "nope"
At this point Trace will either walk away mumbling or this will go on for 10 minutes or so. Either way I'm cooking it on the mini barbeque.
The marinade came together pretty well. Had to top up the olive oil with a couple of TBSPs of veggie oil. Bought fresh rosemary but unfortunately forgot to find a recipe before buying ingredients.
We have a pretty well stocked cupboard of herbs and I knew I was going with a "Rosemary" marinade, unfortunately, we don't have any thyme, oh well.
Found an extra large ziploc for marinating it in at the bottom of the pantry and noticed a whole box of them at the back.
It was at precisely this moment I thought to myself "maybe I should blow this bag up to see if has any holes in it?". Self thought back "naah, who would put a Ziploc back in the cupboard with a hole in it?".
Self was right, no-one would put a Ziploc back in the cupboard with a hole in it. What use would it be? The whole point of a Ziploc is that it "zips and locks, right?"
Nobody put it back with "a" hole in it, no, not one hole.
This ziploc was apparently a sieve in a previous life poured the marinade in. Out it exited, through more holes than you'll find on a tray of Tim Horton's doughnuts.
The ensuing panic is not worth describing. Suffice it to say, the dog hates rosemary and the Lamb is now resting comfortably inside 2 extra large Ziplocs.
I'll post pictures on Sunday.
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