life

painting, staining, and tiling, oh my! (kitchen, pt. 8)

/ abby hummel / 8 Comments

We have put our noses back to the grindstone and accomplished some great feats in our DIY kitchen remodeling progress. I think by condensing picture updates I’m telling myself the project isn’t taking that long. Right… 

Anyway, this weekend we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day. This is great, because I love St. Patrick. (Here’s a quick recap of his life from last year.)  However, I couldn’t summon the strength to get excited about corned beef and Irish-style fine adult beverages this year. While this might be because it’s been unseasonably warm in Iowa, I’m guessing it’s because I exerted myself laying tile.

Yes, I was tiling. We have done a lot of work in the kitchen lately. This update is way overdue! Do you remember the blue wall? It’s no longer offending us with it’s brightness. We’re all cream, all the time now. Aaron’s height comes in very handy for painting rooms with vaulted ceilings.

All the backsplash tile is installed and grouted. The new wood around the island is in the middle of the stain-and-seal process, and the brackets are ready to install. (We also desperately need trim here. I know, I know.)

And what is this? Our garage looks like the tile department of a hardware store!? Get out of town! 

In order to get started on the tile project, we had to clear the whole kitchen floor. This means Aaron had to disconnect the stove and shuffle the appliances out of the way.

 We ripped up the carpet (a two-person, four-hand job, so no pictures), chipped up the cork and linoleum floors underneath, and started laying down concrete backer boards.
Incidentally, I was in a tank top the first night we did this and got concrete and fiberglass from the boards scratched all over my arms and neck. I was entirely miserable for about 24 hours, but then the real work began. Aaron says his thinset mixtures look like milkshakes.
True to our usual form, we would start these projects after dinner and work into the night while wearing clothing that’s pretty much inappropriate for the job at hand. (For further examples, see my skirt and bare feet in Part 3 and Aaron in part 7.) I’m also in flip-flops:

As frugal and responsible homeowners, we found encouragement to continue improving our home while listening to the Dave Ramsey radio show playing in the after-dinner time slot. It was motivating to yell “We’re (going to be) DEBT FREE!” every time one of his callers gave a debt-free scream. (Aaron, however, called the debt-free-except-for-the-house guests “cheaters.”) Our resolve to work late would wane about 10:30, when we both found ourselves really, really annoyed by the host of the next show. We may have just gotten tired then. The late hour may have had something to do with it, too, but we would get really cranky and complain about the radio programming while wrapping up our work for the day. Anyway, this was basically what we did every night from last Saturday until now, when we have ended up with this:
 I really wanted to find rectangle tiles to make a herringbone pattern, but tiles of that shape were out of our budget, so we used Rialto White tile in 12′ and 6′ squares. Since we’re extending the tile into the dining room – I mean, even two educated adults can’t manage to keep white carpet under the table clean – we’ve only laid half the tile, and I’m going to put the grout on for these tiles this afternoon. We won’t have the fridge and stove back up until Monday afternoon at the earliest.

Since I was laying the tile while Aaron slaved at the tile saw, I ended up in all sorts of strange body contortions trying to protect my knees and spent several hours a night doing the equivalent of deep lunges and squats. So I feel like the lower half of my body might fall off at any point today. And like I said… we have more than half the total square footage to go.

Installing the tile has been a much bigger project than we expected, but it’s pretty enjoyable and it looks AMAZING. Every time we walk past the work already completed, one of us says “This is unbelievably better!” Considering that the previous kitchen flooring was dirty, ugly, dark, thin carpet, I bet anything could elicit this response from us. But for now we’ll just revel in the excitement of an upgrade!

(PS: Wanna catch up on the kitchen work from the very beginning? Read all about it here.)

Rendering unto Caesar

/ abby hummel / 5 Comments

Since it is the adventure of self-employment that gives me more free time and makes our taxes just slightly  more complicated than last year, I’m the one hacking through our year-end statements and getting ready to prepare our yearly tax returns with Turbo Tax as Uncle Sam’s April deadline looms in the distance. While setting up for this process, I have already succumbed to emotional eating (too much coffee, leftover pizza, and hazelnut wafer rolls, if you must know) and am now listening to classical music in hopes that it will bring a sense of calm and classy-ness to the day as I accomplish the task at hand.

Naturally, the quote that comes to mind in these times is from the Gospels.

“And Jesus answering said unto them: ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ And they marvelled at him.”
– Mark 12:17, the king james version.

It is always the KJV diction that sticks in my head for this passage, and I’m getting very distracted by the word “render.” In this context it means “return” or “give back,” but I’m amused that it can also describe the process of separating fat from meat by the application of heat. Though the double meaning may be unintentional, it seems like an apt picture for this process. We will soon know how much “fat” the government will claim for 2011!

(That exclamation point is supposed to be ironic. I am not actually excited about this.)

giving up

/ abby hummel / 4 Comments

A little over a week into Lent, I’m surprised at how scattered my thoughts about self-denial and repentance remain. I suppose it’s not a very fun thing to think about. At least with the other “big” Church season of Advent, we prepare for the revelation of Word made flesh while planning holiday menus and anticipating the spiritual experience of getting loads of loot. Not so with Lent! For nearly two thousand years, Christians have spent forty days in repentance and self-denial preparing to observe the most extreme series of events in human history: Jesus’ undeserved betrayal and gruesome death that make way for the eternal victory of His resurrection.

It can be rightly said that this is a special season of grief for sin and brokenness in ourselves and the world, and turning away from these things back to God. Of course we should seek repentance at all times, but that doesn’t make Lent irrelevant. There is much to gain in approaching this corporately and systematically — or, to use the evangelical lingo, “in community” and “intentionally.”  Compared to our full observance of Christmas (and sometimes Advent), we evangelicals tend to tend to sweep Lent and Easter under the rug. Perhaps this is further evidence of our own brokenness, indicating that we don’t always take the the death and resurrection of Christ as seriously as his birth.

My thoughts and convictions on this topic are still not fully formed, but mostly my point here is that these forty days are a special time of examining my own heart and orienting myself more fully towards the gospel. In giving up small things – this year, it’s sleeping in past six o’clock and using the computer after dinner – I’m more aware of how much I hang on to and how much Christ gave up for me. And I’ve failed at one or both of these things every day. This teaches me even more about my own rebellion and powerlessness, and how much I must cling to God in all things. I want Lent to be a big deal because these tangible experiences help break me out of my own fallen perspective and emotions. Rightly understanding my own state of helplessness and defeat is the only way I can rightly understand what the gospel means. In Lent, when I turn my heart towards sorrow for sin and grief for all that brokenness has wrought in my life and the world, I gain a deeper understanding of St. Paul writing: “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive!” and the traditional liturgy stating: “Thus we proclaim the mystery of faith – Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ is coming again!”

Though “giving up something for Lent” alone is meaningless, with a contrite heart the tradition of fasting and denial teaches us about surrender, sacrifice, and salvation. These lessons are profoundly valuable. I’m glad to be observing Lent this year, because I know in “giving up”  little things  to make room for greater devotion to God, I’m learning more about giving up entirely.

“…whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” – Matthew 10:39, esv.

falling through the ice (a little adventure)

/ abby hummel / 4 Comments

One of the many things I have learned about The Wild Outdoors since marrying a hunter is that whitetail deer shed their antlers every winter. During the spring and summer those antlers grow back a little bigger and then the deer are ready for targeting during the fall hunting season. Finding a great set of antler “sheds” in the woods is a bit of a consolation prize for a hunter. It’s a way of saying: you didn’t get the big buck, but since you found his antlers you know that he’s still around. Maybe you’ll get him next year when he’s even bigger!

This unusually temperate winter provided us a gorgeous weekend full of bright afternoons and temperatures near 50’F. Aaron was going “shed hunting” on Sunday and I decided to accompany him. The weather was warm, the sun was shining, and I was excited that we would be outside together for a few hours. I knew we would walk and laugh… and maybe we’d even get to talk about our feelings! My hopes were (unrealistically) high as I bundled myself up in warm layers and drove out to a special hunting spot.

After parking the truck on dry ground, we had to cross a river before reaching the deer’s usual habitat where we hoped to find the elusive antler sheds. I wore special boots that came up to my knees since the ice was cracking and we expected to fall in and wade across part of the shallow water. The plan would have worked, but our crossing point in the river just wasn’t that  shallow.

Yes, I fell through the ice into the waist-deep river. Aaron helped drag me out, and after replacing the wading boots with regular shoes, we took a few pictures.
This accident only strengthened my resolve to find a great set of “sheds,” so I stuck it out for several hours of walking. Unfortunately our search was in vain and my icy plunge was the most exciting part of the story. Maybe we’ll have better luck (and stay drier!) next time!