Tis the season to paint your lawn green

Around here some lawns at this time of year get sprayed green or pink. We first saw the green last year while browsing real estate web sites, so we thought it was a miss-guided attempt to make the house more appealing during the brown winter time. Then we saw the pink one. Was that supposed to be festive, perhaps for Christmas?

Turns out it's just winter fertilizer treatment. There are two lawn treatment companies in town--one uses pink, the other goes with green. So a mundane explanation, but it just goes to show how seriously people take a good-looking lawn. Because, you know, that stuff is expensive.

I was actually glad at about the end of October when everyone's lawn turned brown all at once one morning. Because then they matched mine. And then the weather turned colder, and even the weeds died. Yay!

I wish I'd taken Hilary's advice in the spring and just spent the money for a spreader and the stuff you spread with it. But I went with the cheaper alternative and chose the weed n' feed that you attach to your hose for spraying. Guess you get what you pay for. And I wish I'd taken Marisse's advice to check out library books on lawn and garden care a little earlier. It turns out lawns really do need more care than just mowing--although, seriously, that should be enough!

About mid-summer I was seriously looking for weed killer. The crab grass was taking over, along with a pot pourri of little disruptive plants whose names I don't know. I tried weeding by hand, but it felt like a task from a Greek myth--you know, like Aphrodite telling Psyche to separate the mountain of mixed seeds. I'd work for a good hour and only clear a few square feet. And it didn't improve the look of the lawn. In fact, it just looked scarred, like an acne-ridden face that's been picked at the way the dermatologist and your mom say you shouldn't.

So when manual labor doesn't work, you turn to better living through chemistry. The only weed killing options I could find were (1) weed n' feed spray, which sounds good except the instructions claimed it shouldn't be used more than twice a year (clearly inadequate), and (2) Round-up type herbecides, which kill ALL plants. Guess that's for getting rid of sprouts in your driveway or rock-and-gravel bed. So I just suffered lawn envy through the late summer and fall.

In the fall I finally got around to reading a couple of library books on the subject. Apparently a lawn doesn't really need weed killer, other than that spring pre-emergent stuff for crab grass. It just needs water and fertilizer to stay strong. When it's strong it keeps out the weeds on its own.

So if I were a really dedicated home-owner, I'd take this opportunity to get a jump on a good, healthy lawn for next year. But since we may be moving, I'm not so motivated to spend the money. On the other hand, I could go cheap with home-made remedies. One of the books I read was all about homemade, organic lawn treatments, for every kind of lawn ailment. The thing is, the treatments I'd need call for beer or whiskey. Uchenna didn't think I should buy those kinds of ingredients, even if not for personal consumption. I was just as glad, since I didn't want my yard smelling like a brewery.

And anyway, the snow has fallen now so we can't even see the lawn anymore. Out of sight, out of mind. We'll just shovel the walk and call it good.

A Trip to Philly, part 2

The Abbott kids at the Museum of Natural History. Sharks and elephants and mammal exhibits, oh my.

So a loo-oong Thanksgiving weekend, Christmas preparations, Facebook, and various other concerns have distracted me. But let's get back to the story, especially since I left off right in the middle.

We figured since we were on the East coast, we had to visit people we never get to see. We had two options: Josh and Megan's family in Washington, D.C. or Uchenna's sister's family in Brooklyn. His dad is staying with her, also. Two destinations, roughly equal distance in opposite directions. Only time to visit one. We picked Josh and Megan.

Probably we should have got everything set up long before we even went to Philly, but there were so many variables we didn't know--like how the conference would go, did he need to stay to the very end?--that it was hard to pin down arrangements too early. And besides, we figured we could set up things online at the hotel. Except it turned out we couldn't get online at that hotel. We even ponied up the extra fee for Internet access, but somehow their network didn't work with our computer. Fortunately the hotel does have excellent customer service, along with their fluffy towels, and they didn't charge us the fee after all.

Bless Megan's heart, she helped us get our train reservations, and she stayed flexible and accommodating through all our "well, I'm not sure, let's see how it will play out" dilly-dallying.

Can I just say I love trains? We need more trains in this country. We decided to take the train from Philly to D. C., because it was less time than driving but less expensive than flying. We got to the big 30th St Station early, because obviously we're used to dealing with airports, but we didn't need to stress. Security and check-in was very low key. I was also a little worried because I'd heard trains can run late. But this one left at the scheduled minute on the dot.

One odd little thing--someone was shooting some kind of movie there in the cathedral-like station. A couple of times we tried to cross to the other side, and people posted around the perimeter would herd us back out of the area. Then a pack of guys dressed in riot gear with FBI printed on their backs would go trotting across the station with great purpose, then stop and meander casually back. The other passengers were saying to each other, "I thought something big was going on when I saw all the FBI." It was funny to watch.

Another good thing about trains: space. Plenty of space for luggage, wide seats, good leg room. All very comfortable. And we were just in coach class, nothing fancy.

Josh and Megan and the kids met us at the D. C. station. It was too cold to browse the monuments, and we were trying to decided what to do when one of the kids REALLY needed to go to the bathroom. So the parents dropped us at the Museum of Natural History and went to park (they'd had to bring both cars to fit us and them). Cell phones are great for meeting up again--except when you don't hear it ring. Josh and Megan were looking for us for about 20 minutes, calling the whole time, before we saw them. They were probably thinking, "Great, my children are here somewhere among the crowds and sharks and woolly mammoths."

I love the D.C. museums! Cool plus free, how can you beat that? I was so shocked when we moved away from D.C. and realized that most museums, especially the good ones, ask you to pay them before they let you in.

We stayed the night with Josh and Megan. And by the way, if you haven't been to see their house yet, you're missing out. Craig and Ellen came over, too. We had a great night of visiting and catching up!

The next morning Josh got up way early to get us back to the train station, so we could get back to Philadelphia in time to make our flight. Thanks Josh! Going from the relaxed, spacious train straight to the tense, cramped flight only served to highlight the contrast between these two forms of transportation. I'm asking, seriously, what's keeping us from becoming more of a train-going people?

After our 8-day trip, plus our day of trains, planes, and automobiles (don't forget the two-hour drive from the airport), we were glad to get home. That's when we noticed that our oven had fritzed out. But hey, the rest of the house was still standing, so we can't complain.

A Trip to Philly, part 1

(Uchenna looking at Independence Hall, and wearing the hat I got him. It was cold in Philly!)

You know how Grandpa likes to say that flight is still an experimental form of travel? Most flights go very smoothly, but some seem more experimental than others.

Our flight to Philly got delayed by weather. In fact, it was raining so hard in Philadelphia that we (and a couple other planes we could see out the window), circled for over an hour, then had to make a side trip to Scranton to refuel. Then we came back and circled some more. The turbulance tossed us around a bit, of course. As we were enjoying a rollercoaster-type drop, I saw the guy across the aisle reviewing his safety information card.

Fortunately, we didn't have to put it to use, and we all stumbled gratefully off the plane about two hours later than scheduled--and made a bee-line for the bathrooms. They wouldn't let anyone use the plane bathroom because we could be cleared for landing any moment, for two hours. Also fortunately, in front of us was a group of loud women from New Jersey who had great humor and boisterous laughs, so the trip seemed more like a good story to tell and less like an ordeal.

So why did we go to Philadelphia when the DeMarcos aren't there? Because Uchenna had a conference, which is really our main excuse to travel anywhere. It's a great deal, since we only have to pay for one flight ticket, one person's meals, and no hotel. That said, the trip is still not free, so I guess we won't be getting a big T.V. this year. Uchenna is trying not to be heartbroken.

On the topic of costs, we've noticed an irony about hotels: the more expensive the hotel, the less they give you. A lot of basic chain hotels these days provide free internet, breakfast, and a fridge and microwave. Big, fancy hotels don't. They may have some nice details, snazzy lobbies, and perhaps more comfortable beds, but the rooms are basically the same (at least the ones we book; I'm sure they have amazing suites up somewhere near the top floor). So let's see--higher price tag for thick, fluffy towels or lower price for internet and breakfast. Hmm, tough decision. We're just more practical and cheap than classy, I guess.

Anyway, we thought Philly was dang cool. I think Uchenna wants to move there--but he might be happy to move to any city after living in a small town. We were right downtown on Market St. (okay, that justifies the hotel's cost), and I loved walking by the river, looking at the stores and sampling all the restaurants. In fact the trip sort of turned into a restaurant tour of City Center. Plus, there's this great Reading Terminal Market just a couple blocks away--a lot like Lexington Market for those of you who remember Baltimore.

(In front of the Benjamin Franklin bridge and the Delaware River. Can you see the scarf Mom made me while she was here? Total life saver!)

I called one of my former college roommates who's from there; she invited us to dinner on Sunday and told us how to navigate the subway (it's called the Septa System, which to me sounded too much like septic system. Do people say the words out loud before the inaugurate a new acronym?). Then on Monday showed me the Penn's Landing, took me along the quirky shops on South St., and introduced me to Philly cheese-steak. You know, the important things.

(That's the real Liberty Bell, crack and all. Somehow I thought it'd be bigger, and encased in glass)

Of course one day Uchenna took the afternoon off from conference sessions and we toured the historical sites. Uchenna hadn't been there before, and the last time I went I think I was 12 or 13. As with that first trip, I was struck by how small everything was--such as the room where they drafted and signed both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. But as the park ranger for the Liberty Bell said, these were things and buildings created for everyday use. They may be small, but the ideas are big.

(For a smallish room, a lot of big, historical things happened here.)

Don't get attached

So here's an interesting little development: Uchenna's company announced that it is shutting down the Ponca City facility. All positions not directly connected to the refinery (a total of 700 jobs) will be reviewed and/or relocated. Yup, that includes us.

As you can imagine, the town is a-buzz. No matter where you go, that's all you hear people talking about. We're all comparing notes about the effect on this small, one-company town, for one thing. Because it's not like just 700 people will be leaving, they'll be taking spouses and children as well. Schools will consolidate--though many teachers are company spouses, so maybe the reduction in kids and the loss of teachers will sort of balance out. In our not-very-big ward, sixty people are directly affected, including most of the leadership.

Besides the sheer number of people leaving, those affected are a good portion of the professional population in town, those with more education, higher wages, and good health insurance. Retail, restaurants, and all the other support services will shrink, presumably. My friend at church, a doctor's wife, wonders if she's going to want to stick around this future ghost town.

Imagine roughly 700 houses coming on the market at once with no reason for anyone else to move in. We have a friend who had been renting and was now in process of buying. When the announcement came out, he called his boss and said, "I have a house under contract. What do you recommend?" His boss said, "I'd cancel the contract and walk away from the earnest money." So he did. The realtor said that, in fact, all of their contracts have, one by one, just been cancelled.

Fortunately, when the company relocates personnel, they promise to buy the home if the homeowner can't sell within three months. They're going to be buying a lot of homes. They promise to pay fair market value, at a guaranteed minimum of what the homeowner originally paid. Shwew. It's not like our house would have appreciated in the last nine months anyway. We're also glad we weren't, like, super motivated and went around making upgrades or repairing the roof or anything. This is one time that lack of effort and responsibility actually paid off.

I should say that fueling all the speculation is the company's lack of specifics. This announcement was just a heads-up; details will come at the end of January. But when jobs are "reviewed" that really means "cut." Which positions? And for those relocating, where are they relocating to? And when? Houston and Bartlesville are the two main possibilities (Bartlesville is just an hour due east of Ponca City. There's been a lot of traveling between the two sites, so a consolidation does make sense). But the company has facilities around the country.

Just so you know, we're 85% - 90% confident we'll keep our job, but 100% sure we'll be moving. Bye-bye pretty house.

It's almost over

Okay, I don't have a sign in my front yard, and I haven't called anyone to promote any position (though here's a big, proud shout-out to all of you Californians doing those hard things for the "Yes on 8" campaign). Also I complain loudly about the candidates' commercials. But I'm proudly wearing my "I Voted" sticker. Some of us have the best of intentions, but registering to vote and finding our way to the polling station is about all we can handle. So we're proud of what we do accomplish.

Uchenna was so disgusted with me (in a sweet, loving way of course) because I didn't vote in the last presidential election. Whereas he stayed up to 1 in the morning to watch the election returns, and then was so upset with the result that he couldn't sleep that night, I (living in Utah but still registered in California) found getting that absentee ballot just too complicated. In the last mid-year election I had a Utah driver's license, but apparently you can't wait until just a week before the election to register.

So he knew if our family was going to have a voice in this election, he was going to have to do some gentle but persistant prodding. Good thing, too, because just registering is one of those notorious multi-step processes. Okay, registering itself is very simple, although the deadline is about a month before the election, so you have to think ahead (which, as I said, was a problem I'd had before).

Before you can register in a new state, though, you have to have a local driver's license. That always takes some doing. Here, as long as your old license hasn't expired, you don't have to take a test (shwew!), but I did feel like it was a test to find the armory, which houses the local DMV most mornings. To pay your $25 and get your picture taken, you then go to the tag agency, on the other side of town. I knew where that was, though, because I'd registered the car there. Good thing, too, because to get your driver's license, you first have to get your car registered in-state.

Here's a sidebar question: what do you do with old license plates? We seem to be getting a little collection of them. I guess we can just trash them, as we did with the Tercel plates (they were so rusted we ended up ripping them off the car in sections). But something so official, and, you know, metal, doesn't seem like it can go so casually into the trash. Like there should be a designated collection site or disposal ceremony or something. Just kidding. Sort of.

For a yet further digression, I'd like to point out that, as this state only gives you one plate, which goes on the back of the car, we have a blank spot on the front that feels a little weird. A lot of people around here put in something decorative, supporting OSU or OU, for instance. And there's the ever-popular OSU and OU combined, with the words "A house divided." I wonder how that would go over with BYU and UofU.

But back to voting. I did it. Maybe next time I'll even volunteer at a polling station. Or put up a sign. Although I'd be tempted to post the democratic presidential candidate with the republican senetorial candidate, or vise versa, just to show how independent-minded I am. Or to confuse people. But would they think I'm making a satirical, mocking statement on the whole system? Maybe I'd better just stick to voting and not get carried away.

Winterize your home in 10,000 easy steps

(A view of fall colors out our front window--lovely, but the cold is coming)

The other day we noticed that our neighbor had blankets over his flowers. It looked a little weird and we thought, "hmmm." But then we checked the weather, and sure enough a freeze was forecasted. Yup, it's frost time.

We don't have flowers to baby, but our tomato and pepper plants seem to be enjoying the cooler weather. At least they've both finally got a couple little fruits coming along (I thought tomatoes were sun worshippers, but next year I'm sticking them in a more sheltered --ie shady--spot). So why let frost cut them off in their prime? Not having blankets we were willing to sacrifice, and since the plants were in containers, we just pulled them into the kitchen. Hey, it's sunny in here. How long can we trick them into thinking it's still production season?

With the coming of cold, we also thought we'd better winterize the house. We've heard that that's something responsible homeowners do. So we googled for details, and now I wonder how any home survives the season. The list of tasks went on and on and on, and I didn't even know what all of it meant (like shutting off the AC water valve. Do we have an AC water valve?).

As we looked closer, though, we realized that some things were just helpful (to get better energy efficiency or to get the yard ready to hibernate), others were important (to keep the pipes from bursting, for instance), and some were downright essential (like making sure the furnace doesn't blow up). So while I'm sure it's all good, maybe we can pick and choose a little bit.

But I'm still intimidated. I'd like to use the fireplace for more than a photo backdrop, but suddenly it seems so dangerous. Do I have to get the thing professionally checked, or can I just rely on our carbon monoxide monitor? And how about the furnace? We opened it to clean the filter, like the manual says to do, but it didn't look anything like the diagram in the manual. If it didn't have the brand name on it, I'd think we had the wrong manual, like maybe the one for the bathtub.

One thing for sure, we know we need to wire one of our smoke alarms back in. See, one night about 3 am we woke up to that annoying, piercing beep that smoke alarms emit every thirty seconds when they're low on batteries. So we dragged over a chair and Uchenna tried to take it off the ceiling. He wrestled it and wrestled it, and that stupid beep wouldn't stop. About the time he realized that it was actually wired in to the house's power supply (so it won't just twist off, and of course has no battery to be low), I noticed that there was a little light blinking down near my feet--a CO monitor plugged in. That's where the beep was coming from; apparently it was letting us know that it was malfunctioning because it was old.

Our only defense for being so slow is that we had been awoken at 3 am by an incredibly annoying, piercing beep. But you may be thinking, as we sometimes do, that we're not adult enough to be responsible for a house (I'm not even mentioning the times we left the garage door open all night, or the time I left the water on in the hose with a nozzle and the hose burst and flooded our neighbor's yard. Fortunately it was during the heat of summer, and they were grateful for the extra watering). Uchenna says sure there's a lot to do, but now that it's frosty he's SO glad to have a garage and not have to scrape the car in the morning. I guess that means that, in spite of everything, there are perks.

Geese really do honk

When we only had to mow the lawn every two weeks, the temperature wasn't hitting the upper 90s anymore, and we could leave the door open without inviting in swarms of flies, we knew summer was on its way out. In St. Louis the air felt positively nippy, but on our return Oklahoma was still warm (lower 80s). Three drizzly days, however, seem to have kicked off autumn for real. The rain is gone, but the nippiness has settled in.

We thought about turning on the heater, but we're holding out a little longer and just piling on socks and sweaters. We brought out a big, floppy blanket to cuddle under while watching TV. It may be a long winter for Uchenna--he feels smothered by all these clothes. In his opinion, you should always be able to wear shorts and t-shirts around your house; anything else is just cold.

We've seen other unmistakable signs of autumn (rather than just absence of summer), such as flocks of geese flying in that v-pattern you always see in cartoons or paintings. They really do that, and they honk like crazy, too. We seem to be in their air-traffic pattern. The other day, geese were flying overhead and letting everyone know they were coming through just as a train was also going through town, letting everyone know that it was passing by (as it always does, multiple times per day. We don't live near the tracks, but you can hear the whistle no matter where you are in town). The geese and the train seemed to be talking to each other, or maybe trying to out-honk each other.

Also, I was looking at the leafy trees surrounding our yard, and thinking that while there are a few leaves scattered across the grass, all those leaves up there still have to come down. While cutting the grass for probably the last time this year (red letter day), Uche attached the bag and sucked all the current leaves. That's pretty slick! But now that mowing is over, we think, raking may soon replace it as the unending task. We did invest in a rake, but I'm wondering how well I could wield the power blower. I never could pile up the grass clippings with it--everything just blew everywhere--but maybe leaves will be more cooperative.

Besides raking leaves, I wonder if there are other things we should do to winterize the house. I'm sure I won't like the heating bills, but I'm glad we have a garage this year, for the first time ever. Yay garage!

Mom and Dad

Before we went to St. Louis, Mom and Dad came to visit for about a week (I know I'm going backwards in time, but I've never been very logical, chrono- or otherwise). It was fantabulous.

Of course it's wonderful to spend time with people that you love and enjoy being around. But it's more than that. Those of us who move around a bit have fractured lives; each new residence has new people, places, activities, issues, much of which isn't really connected to any earlier time or place. When you've left pieces of your self/life scattered across the country, constants or moments of integration can be really comforting--you know, looking at pictures and remembering how it felt to live in that room (to paraphrase an author whose name I can't remember), or reading through papers written by your former scholarly self and remembering that you were such a person.

So imagine how much better it is to have living, breathing people who also happen to be the fundamental constant from the beginning of your life--your parents--come be a part of your current life, if only for a few days. To see the home you've created for yourselves, and to approve. It's pretty great.

They flew in to OKC Tuesday night and met us at the hotel. OKC is two hours away, after all, and by staying overnight we could go to the temple in the evening and then see the Bombing Memorial the next morning. That memorial museum is pretty powerful. Seems like any museum is a combination of information and experience, with the emphasis tilting either way depending on the purpose. In a memorial like this the information is mostly a tool to take you through an experience. Some of us cried all the way through it.

After recovering from travel on Thursday, Friday we explored the town. Well, through his walking Dad explored the town quite thoroughly. But we also went to the Marlan Mansion, our own version of Hearst Castle: a local (obscenely rich) oilman fell in love with lavish villas while on vacation in Italy, then came home and built one for himself. You walk around the ornate furnishings, grand salons, and extensive private apartments and think, "What the heck is this doing in a little out-of-the-way town in Oklahoma?" Then we went to the Standing Bear museum and learned about the six closest tribes, a little of their culture and sad history. It was a full day, so we went to dinner (at the restaurant the company always takes the people they're recruiting).

Saturday and Sunday was Conference, which it sounds like you all enjoyed as much as we did. Between sessions on Saturday, we decided to leave the house (which was making us feel too cooped up), went to a park by the lake (which was too windy), and finally ate our picnic snacks at another park by a little stream (which was just right). And on Sunday we had dinner with the Meldrums, so Mom and Dad got to meet some of our favorite people.

Monday I drove them to the airport, where they set off for even more adventures.

Meet me in St. Louis

Some things I learned this week:

1. While I've heard for years about the uber-prestigious medical school at Washington University, St. Louis, MO, I didn't know how striking the collegiate-gothic campus would be. I looked around and said, "This is the sort of place where people wear suits (not the students, of course, but the grown-ups)."


2. The business school at WashU includes a lovey hotel for their executive education program with seminars and conferences and all that. How many business schools house a hotel?


3. I alway knew I loved hotels that provide a good breakfast; I now know I also love hotels with a "Guest Pantry" stocked with complimentary snacks, a fridge with drinks (non-alchoholic, of course), microwave, etc.


4. When a fire alarm goes off in a hotel at 3 am, not everybody leaves the building; and of those that do, not everyone remembers shoes, jacket, or room key (though between the two of us, we got all those essentials); also, some people wear funny things--like boxers with a suit coat.


5. Even though St. Louis, MO, isn't listed among the top 50 biggest cities in the U.S., it has a city park bigger than NY's Central Park.

(In Forest Park, St. Louis)



6. The park, called Forest Park, was originally the site of the 1904 World's Fair (remember that old movie with Judy Garland, "Meet Me in St. Louis"?) and is surrounded by gorgeous leafy neighborhoods with houses that look like they could have been in the movie. Gorgeous!


(That big building behind me is the Art Museum--not too shabby)



7. In its 1293 acres (really, it goes on forever) the park has a free history museum (pretty cool), a free zoo (not a skimpy zoo, either; the penguins were up-close and awesome), a golf course (not the sort of thing I'm personally into), a beautiful art museum, tons of open fields and ball fields, enough paths to keep you biking for hours (looks like it--I didn't put that hypothesis to the test), gardens, streams, ponds, fountains and a variety of bridges, and (yes) an actual forest. I think there's other stuff, too, that I didn't get around to seeing.


(I never could get myself and the animals in the same shot)



8. The roads that go through the park twist and turn and get you all turned around and confused. I'm just saying.
   
9. A one-day conference that goes from 8 am to 9 pm is really a two-day conference that's been crammed into one day. And even if you have a lot of cool stuff to see and do, if you're by yourself you begin to feel the need to talk to someone.


10. The neighborhood, Dogtown, in which I set the opening of my book is not one of the pretty ones, which I figured, since it's by the old factories. But it is surprisingly close to the river and downtown. On the map it looks way out there (and if you can only get around by walking or horses, it would seem pretty far), but you can actually see the Arch from the top of the hill.


11. The Gateway Arch is huge-normous! You cannot fit a person and the whole arch into one photo.

(You can barely see Uchenna as a tiny figure, with portions of the Arch)




(Ahh, here's one way to get your picture with the whole Arch--go for the model in the museum underneath)

12. You might think the Arch just sits on a little park area overlooking the river, but that simple grassy area is completely deceiving--underneath is a big ol', cool history museum, complete with theaters and animitronics. It's called the history of westward expansion, which you know is basically the history of the whole country.
    
    

    (In the hidden history museum under the grass)



(We love finding references to our own history in national contexts)

13. While it may not be in the top 50 US cities right now, historically St. Louis is one of the most important places in the country: Louis and Clark launched from there, Oregon Trail pioneers went through there, it had a bunch of industry, it was the northern-most navigable place on the Mississippi, it hosted the World's Fair and the first Olympics in the US, plus the whole Charles Lindburgh and the "Spirit of St. Louis" thing. Just remember that all the western cities except San Francisco (like L.A., Denver, Seattle, Phoenix, Dallas and Houston) were either non-existant or cattle outposts, so St. Louis was the unchallenged dominant western city.
    
14. You can go up inside the Arch to the top if you're willing to spend $10 per person, so we figured we'd catch it next time.

Plumbing--it's not so bad

In an apartment if something breaks or drips and if it's bad enough to justify the hassle, you call maintenance. So in our last place, we called the office when in February the heater wouldn't light and again when we discovered a lake under the kitchen sink. But that dripping sound coming from behind the bathroom wall we just ignored. After all, it wasn't an immediate problem (though I bet it'll become quite an issue in a few years), and besides, what do you do about a drip inside the wall? Break the wall open? I thought at the time, gosh I'm glad I don't own this place.

When you own the house, on the other hand, and you discover a puddle forming in a random spot on the bathroom floor, you just have to face it.

Dabbing at the dribble with paper towels, I traced the water source to the back of the toilet. Shwew. At least it wasn't some subterranean leak were were dealing with. And it appeared to come from the place where the water from the wall goes into the toilet tank. Shwew again. Considering the alternatives, that's probably the best place for a toilet to leak.

I hesitated to tell Uchenna because I knew we'd have to call a plumber and spend money. My instinct was to stick a bucket (or in this case an old margarine tub) underneath and empty it periodically. Fortunately engineers don't think that way.

Uchenna didn't know much about toilets' inner workings, but he's nothing if not confident. He immediately went to investigate, opening the tank, checking out the flushing mechanism, pinpointing the defective part, and shutting off the water source. He even used his iPhone to take pictures.

Since I didn't get around to telling him about it until 11:30, when we were going to bed, we waited until the next evening to go to Lowe's, where we spent a fruitful hour in the plumbing section. That's a section I have never visited before. Good thing he took those pictures because the many replacement parts, while cheap (yay!), can be pretty confusing in all their variety (but I'm not posting these helpful pictures because they're just not that interesting).

On Saturday, we pulled out the defective guts from our tank and replaced it with the new set-up. And it works. No more leak. Amazing.

So with our new-found knowledge we went after the gurgling sound from our other toilet. Turns out we'd both been ignoring it. Also turns out it's incredibly cheap and easy to fix. Replacement flapper --$4. Confidence as homeowners -- priceless (as long as nothing really big breaks).

Birthday Weekend

I've been wanting cake. Reading the cakewrecks blog will do that, even if you don't want the particular example being featured. So a birthday seemed the natural way to satisfy the craving.

But here's the thing: you can't eat birthday cake all by yourself, or even with just your loving spouse. Candles seem a little pathetic at that point, not to mention singing. I know this for a fact, because I tried it last year. That was a great birthday, with a ride on the ski lift over the fall-colored mountains, followed by dinner at a lovely restaurant. But I shouldn't have tried to squeeze cake in, especially since I'm the only cake eater in this house (though recognizing that, I was at least smart enough to buy a little-bitty, two-serving speciman).

So this year I opted for a party as a setting to share cake. It started small enough. I figured I'd invite two couples that we've gotten close to, and their kids (which aren't many). We'd do it Sunday night, because it'd be low-key. Oh, and let's invite that new couple; they need to meet more people. And the friend that I walk with, and her family. She's so much fun. How about that other sister who's been so sweet and welcoming. Let's invite our next-door neighbors, who brought us cookies the very first Sunday we were here. Being neighborly doesn't come naturally to me, but here's a chance to work on that. And finally, that friend from Uchenna's work, the single guy who got hired the same time as we did and gives Uche a ride home every night.

To those of you who came to our wedding, this may sound like a familiar sequence of events. If care is not taken, it may become our modis operandi.

I tend to be slap-dash about planning and logistics, but fortunately Uchenna is not only detail-oriented but also very serious about entertaining. How many pieces of cake will you have, he asked. And how many people are coming, exactly? Some people may want more than one piece. Yes, you do have to count all the children. He also reviewed my spread: You need more to drink than a bottle of Sprite, and better get another box of crackers. Because when everyone shows up, he told me, you can't say, Oh you came. They will say, But you invited me.

Good thing he gave his input, because (1) I was focused on the artistic part--the cake, which took up most of Saturday (I had fun, but don't look at those butterfles too closely), and (2) everyone came. Turns out it was the perfect amount of food for the perfect number of people. And the kids finally put our back yard to good use (thank goodness for perfect weather).

You're probably thinking that these little guys (mini bundt cakes cut and arranged strategically) are slugs. But think of them in context of the butterflies and you'll realize that they are in fact catepillars. When I made them I laughed and laughed. Probably not a good sign.

One last birthday note: I had originally said, let's have a party instead of gifts and going out to dinner. In Uchenna's mind "instead of" became "along with." So I'm very excited expecting a grinder attachment for my KitchenAid. It should come in the mail any day now. Whoohoo! Oh, I also have a lovely card and bouquet of roses on my table. (Happy sigh) I love birthdays.

Labor Day (vol 2)

In our last exciting episode we found ourselves in rain-soaked Oklahoma City, but well fed and settled into our hotel. By the way, we found the hotel through hotwire.com. The funny thing about that website is that they tell you the general location of the hotel, a price, a list of amenities, and some hotel chains they work with, but they won't tell you the actual hotel you're booking until after you've booked it. It's cheap, but it's non-refundable. So getting the hotel felt like a adventure all by itself. Fortunately, it turned out fine, despite its hard-to-find location behind Office Depot.

Saturday got started a little late. I had run over to Target (also right next to the hotel--I'm telling you, weird spot) for milk and cereal and so forth (we were in an extended-stay hotel--though I don't think 3 nights is that extended--so we had a fridge and stuff), and we actually sat down to breakfast at noon. Oops. Oh well, it was vacation. Then we went to the temple. So we did get that in.

That evening we went to dinner in Bricktown, a downtown warehouse district that's been repurposed into a nightlife restaurant district. Our jazz-themed restaurant looked over the canal and had a live 3-piece combo playing. We walked along the canal and even took a carriage ride. I've always wanted to do that! It was much comfier than I thought it would be, even though our driver had to keep the horse from trying to race the carriage in front of us. Just as we got in the car to head back to the hotel, the rain started again. I wondered about those carriage drivers; the weather must really give them fits sometimes.

On Sunday we found a ward (yay church website!) and drove around a bit studying the map. We'd been getting confused because like every few miles, no matter what highway we were traveling or what direction we were going, we kept running across highway I-44. But after exploring with map in hand, I think we've got a better sense of the city, even that crazy I-44. In the evening we ate dinner at a park surrounding this surprisingly large lake in the middle of town. Late afternoon sun over the water and through the trees is one of my favorite things in creation.

Then Monday we hit Sam's Club (where we showed remarkable restraint) and headed home. I always feel like Millie from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers when I go into town and stock up on supplies--last month we even invested in a double-walled cooler so we can transport perishables. Of course when we got home, the lawn looked like it was trying to swallow the house (you've got to watch that lawn every minute), so after a moment for a relaxing breath, Uchenna took care of that. What a trooper. What a perfect vacation: no conference sessions or interviews or looking at houses and asking essential, insightful questions, or even rushing to graduation. Just sleeping, eating in lovely settings, and exploring. Shwew.