Lots has been goin' on

and I'm pretty tired lately. The renovation is going on schedule, and I hung the entire ceiling this weekend, something I wasn't planning on doing, but once I got started it was pretty systematic. Ten sheets of drywall overhead can cause Chaplin-esque moments as I'm trying to control dead weight directly above me with 2 deadmen who sometimes have minds of their own. I figured that if I hung it right then finishing would less of a pain in the ass, but there's no avoiding that either way.

Mixed in a 'cross race today (DCCX) and had a great time, but given my abject lack of training, especially a dearth of interval work, I cramped massively toward the end of the race. When I finished it was all I could do to rub these cramps out, as they were in opposing muscle groups and relief on one side was met with pain on the other.

So that's it. Work is work, it's Sunday, and here we go again.

Little by little

The office move is substantially complete, though I still have some boxes to finish unpacking.  The volume of work is steady but reducing in intensity, and the space is arranged in such a way that we can see virtually everyone in the studio, with no major visual blockage.  There's some cool volume to the space that really feels different than a standard office floor.  It's going to turn out quite a bit better than I expected.

The open plan has its downsides, too, as I was on a phone call and everyone was giggling in a way that became irritating, and I almost resorted to the old "Hey let's cut this out and get back to work because we're too busy to laugh" speech, the standard management mantra.  Until I saw the source of the amusement, an image of the newest father in the office proudly holding his day old infant in his arms.  Only this infant had the photoshopped head of another poor bearded soul in our office, an image so unsettling that my irritation dissolved into peels of laughter that joined the chorus.  There were no innocent bystanders here.  I still laugh thinking about it, and was in tears as I was describing it to the fam at dinner.

I asked the perpetrator of this heinous and hilarious crime not to post the image on the wall as I will not be able to suppress laughter if I were to look in that direction, which is and will be often (pardon the butchering of the pluperfect--or is it subjunctive?).  Next source of entertainment will be one these cool Air Hogs Havic Heli's buzzing around.

Don't eat spicy Thai food for breakfast.

What is the deal with the UPS ad campaign, the whole "Whiteboard" scheme, with mullet boy pitching their wares?  As far as seven heads go, this may be more of an elongated pageboy cut.  Regardless it's ugly, and memorable.  Certainly successful in that regard.

MNF is on in the background, and it's mellow in the house tonight.  Yesterday while the 'Skins were flaying the Eagles (YEEHAW) the game was on in the background while we installed a beam into the new opening, did more demo, framed the peninsula wall, and traced and reconfigured all of the 1950's era and 1980's remodel era wiring through the kitchen and dining room.  I use "we" in the royal sense, as I was a glorified laborer amongst real pros.   Hank the contractor is a true craftsman, an amazing magician with tools, always working, always moving forward.  My brother in law Bob is a meticulous electrician, also hard-working and efficient.  By watching and observing their ethic I'm able to continue to shape mine.  In addition, despite the small talk and banter that accompanies these all-encompassing tasks we seemed to work well enough together to not have "pass me the tape" or "grab this end" be part of the conversation.  Much of this was unspoken and the work went smoothly.

What wasn't going smoothly was the tempest in my intestines (2nd Sunday in a row now) which I think was bought on by the lingering bug in the house as well as the Thai Basil Chicken (with extra hot peppers) that I had for breakfast before everyone arrived.  Good thing I didn't ride.  By the time I retired for the evening the full blown chills and cramping was underway, and when I closed my eyes under the 3 quilts that I crawled under all I could see was a psychedelic millieu of vibrating color.  This did not bode for a good night's sleep.

Needless to say I cut short my day at work after my son's school called me around mid-day and told me that my son was sick.  After picking him up I laid down to "rest my eyes" and next thing I knew it was 4:30 PM.   I guess the rusty chassis is trying to tell me something...

Sunday morning

Typically on a Sunday morning, especially one so beautiful in the fall as this, I'm out on the bike.  In the past five years since I got back on the saddle it's become a ritual touchstone of the weekly cycle.  Lately, during 'cross season, I'm headed to a race (about 5-6 times a season).  The usual comment at the end of the ride to the disparate group of friends is "Have a great week", knowing that we'll see each other on the next Sunday ride.  It's a comforting routine, and helps reset my attitude for the coming week.

So when I'm sitting on the computer writing about riding while I should be coming out of Rock Creek Park with 100 others, it feels a bit strange.  I was planning on a shorter ride today, since Hank and my brother in law Bob are coming today to help me remove a masonry pier and reset a beam to keep this kitchen renovation ticking along.  On a free day we can get a lot done.

Instead when I woke up I felt like I had been run over by a truck.  Two of four humans in the house are fighting serious head/chest colds, and I'm not one of them, thankfully, yet.  After a long road ride yesterday, soccer, and tearing out the subfloor to prep for the hardwood (in addition to some more wall demo), this morning my body said uncle while my mind planned on joining some neighbors for a spin into the park and a rendezvous with the Sunday group until about 10, when the calvary was to arrive to conquer this pier.

So here I sit, with intentions of a younger, more energetic man belied by the creaking, aching body of reality.  Can't do it all.  Oh well.

Back on the road

The morning is open tomorrow--lately I've put in a short ride since soccer season is upon us and take out the 'cross bike just to open up the legs a little...

Tomorrow is an afternoon game so the itch to get back on the road bike needs to be scratched.  It'll be nice to feel fast again, to stay out for more than an hour or so, since riding the cross bike on pavement, while a good workout, is not quite the same.  Definitely plush, though.

Lumber Liquidators in the late afternoon, then me and my SkilSaw will get acquainted again as we do a number on the old flooring and subfloor in order to usher in the new hardwood.  Sunday will be more demo, this time of the vertical nature.  The portion of the wall that used to be the exterior (before the addition was built in the '60's) is right smack in the midst of circulation.  Tearing this out won't be easy, as the brick and block load bearing masonry construction of the '50's makes for quite sturdy construction.  That's what 10# sledgehammers are for.

Feline playground

The rest of the ceiling is down now, and after Hank left I did some more demo work and laid out the recessed lighting housings.  The more I can do means the less he has to do, ostensibly reducing the costs of this whole project.

One of the side benefits of doing renovation work in the house is the opportunity we humans give our pets to figure out new ways to explore the abode.  Our three cats are in heaven now, with the ability and opportunity to climb up into the rafters anytime they please for this next week or so.  Our Pavlovian response to their yowling when they want to go into the attic can take a break for a little while, as their access is now unfettered, for the time being.  Feline attic patrols are good, since they are voracious hunters and they tend to keep the rodent population under control.

Living sculpture:

I don't have a picture of their darker side, which was revealed to me this morning on my way to the car in the driveway.  Every once in a while they bring some prey home to us, leaving a dead mouse or bird on our stoop.  I have a regular pet cemetery out back now.  Other times they eat too much grass and clear out their intestines, in the manner that certain "cyclocross racers" do the same at certain "races" on this certain "past Sunday".  This morning I found both:  the back half of a mouse vomited onto our walkway.  Sometimes breakfast doesn't quite sit well, does it?