Me No Think Lead Smell Bad

So there I was sitting around complaining about how my stomach hurt, when the Goose chimes in: "Your stomach wouldn't hurt so often if you'd let me paint the front door."
 I suppose the bewilderment and incomprehension was somewhat apparent in my expression because she went on; "We've needed to paint it for a while now. We haven't even thought about the Feng Shui of this place since we moved in. I'm sure the Chi isn't what it should be and we need to start putting things right and the entry way is the place to start."
Nodding like a Bobble-Head doll, I just uttered a long drawn out "Because?"
"Because, if we want a balanced flow and harmony throughout, then the entry has to be complimentary to the essence of this house's situation, and right now it isn't. Our door is south facing and it's white. Southern exposures need warm colors, fire colors actually, to attract and channel positive Chi  into and through the house. Get it?"
Puzzled, I mumbled, "My stomach hurts cause there's jacked-up Chi in the place? I thought it's because I eat and drink too much."

Getting the can opener ready...

Her voice dripping with exasperation, Goose replied, "Something like that. And as long as you're at it you need to replace that molding around the door where the previous owner's dog chewed it up."
Now Painting a door is one thing, but removing and replacing things like molding in a one hundred and thirty year old house is just asking for trouble. And while it is true that some nasty little dog had seriously mangled the molding flanking the right side of the door, actually doing something about it was just going to open a can of worms and I told her so.

The Can of Worms  rears it's ugly head

Not that it did any good, so I dutifully took the door off it's hinges and started prying off the old molding.
"Goose, there's a can of worms in here." And sure as hell, there was. For starters, either the door or the jamb was completely warped and out of square, so the last guy to work on it had kind of custom cut the casing to hide the fact that the door was tilting inward by about ten degrees and could only actually stay closed when the lock was really only catching the edge of the dog chewed molding. Then much of the molding we weren't going to replace turned out to be dry rotted and crumbling, the whole thing pretty much held together with thick white coats of paint.


Now the door is original to the house, or at least old enough that the pane of glass in it is wavy cause it dates back to a time before they could make very good sheet glass, so we don't want to replace it. The point is, it took a lot of cutting and fitting to make it look right

Getting down to basics

Meantime, I had the door out on the front porch resting on sawhorses. There was a century's worth of paint, (at least five coats) with the original apparently a nice Confederate Gray. I was busy sanding away, removing lumps and bumps,smoothing and shining and making the door better than it had been in years when out of the corner of my eye I saw the Goose approaching. Wanting to impress her with my diligence and hard work, I bent into my sanding raising a bigger cloud of dust than ever.
Suddenly, I felt a stunning blow as the sander was pulled from my hands and whomped up against the side of my head...
"Dickhead!" shouted the Goose " That door is covered with lead paint and you're standing there breathing it all in. You're going to become a drooling idiot  and it's going to serve you right." 
Now Goose doesn't usually compare me to a giant choad unless she's really put out, so I thought about it for a moment before I replied, "Me no think lead smell bad."
Well at least that made her laugh, and we ended the day with my wearing a respirator while she dabbed here and there with her mighty Dyson, clearing the air as we progressed.

Balance and Harmony are revealed

In the end, I custom cut replacements for the rotted molding and Goose's unerring eye for color resulted in a pretty good looking entry, as you can see in the pictures.

The right sort of Chi clustering at the entry

"So now that the Feng Shui has been adjusted and the Chi is flowing better, how's your stomach?" asked Goose.
"Not bad, but it could be better"
"What you need is a nice cup of Chi"
"Chi for two, huh? You don't think a Martini might be better?"




Live Long and Prosper,
Fish

The Big Calamari (Cocktail sauce on the side, please)

The original state. Not bad for 130, but maybe a little 'work' is in order.

Lots of pictures and few words in this post. We had the house painted, you see.
Sure, I know there was lots of talk about us painting the place ourselves, but after standing out in the hot sun for fifteen minutes deciding where and how to start, the Goose and I decided to have a quick Gin and Tonic to revitalize ourselves and the next thing you know, there's a painter standing in the living room making golden promises about how his work will 'rejuvenate our home'. The details about how we reached that point are still somewhat hazy, but rest assured we soon had a contract and were due to start work by the first of the week.

So Mike the Painter set to work on the place,

scraping and scrubbing and caulking,

no nook or cranny too small to escape the notice of his assistants.

While Mike himself attends the details.

Progress...

And more progress

And Behold!

The Old Place in all it's new-found glory!

I can't complain. The paint work is good, but it's just not what I envisioned. You can't really see it in these pictures, but there are still lots of lumps and bumps even after days and days of scraping. However after talking to many people, it appears that lumps and bumps are all part of the old house experience. Evidently actually stripping and smoothing and getting down to original wood is more than just a paint job, it's something akin to the painting process for the Golden Gate Bridge, and only slightly less expensive.
And I have to say, the place looks really good from the street. The painters used plenty of caulk and replaced a few odd pieces of siding and the quality of the paintwork itself seems top notch, so I think the old place is good for another ten years. 

'But what' you may ask 'does this have to do with an appetizer popular in many Italian restaurants'?
Well, I'm gonna' tell you. 
The other day I was perusing the news of the weird and I noticed a blurb about fishermen and a Giant Squid. 
You know what they say about 'inquiring minds', so I linked on over to it and behold, it was the coolest video ever of sharks snacking on cool white chunks of fresh calamari, straight  from the fisherman's net. In fact I think I'll link to it here so you can see it in all it's splendor:

Now again you'll ask, what's all that have to do with anything? Well, since we sold the old house I'm beginning t feel like that squid in the video. I swear to God, every time I turn around someone wants a bite of me. The painters took lots of my dough, but that's nothing compared to the vampiric real estate agents. I could have painted this house twice for what those blood suckers charge. (Need to throw in a quick edit here. If I could have given the whole real estate commission to the incomparable Madonna Moody, Realtor extraordinaire, it would have been money extremely well spent. But Oh No! The commission has to be split between a couple of useless brokers and the swine that represented the buyers.)   Then there's the escrow and title companies,  in league with everyone from the loan servicers down to the overnight couriers. There's insurance companies, and even termite inspectors. Not to mention the city wants ninety-two bucks for a permit so I can put up my workshop. The death of a thousand cuts I tell you, or at least nibbled to death by the Sharks and their pals the Lampreys.

So that's what Calamaris have to do with this house. I'm just a Giant Squid and everyone wants a bite of my cool white flesh. 

But this is all giving me pause, and reminding me that there's nothing in the house for dinner. I think I'll grab the Goose and pedal on down to Rocky's. They have real good beer there and I can get a plate of Calamari with cocktail sauce on the side.

Live Long and Prosper,

Fish