We Can Do It!

Have you ever had one of those weeks when everything around the house seems to malfunction at once?!

Well, last week was one of those weeks for me. Fortunately, none of the items in question - leaky sink and toilet, continuously on outdoor light - required a big fix. They're the kind of things that drive you crazy instead, and more often than not, it required perserverance instead of skill to fix. In the case of the sink repair, it 'just' required trips to three hardware stores to find the correct replacement stem for the handle - for a Delta faucet that's only two years old.

Then we had a motion sensor outdoor light that was suddenly constantly on. Since the light operates by a photocell, not a wall switch, Smithy and I were kinda clueless about how to fix it. A phone call from a cranky neighbor gave me the push I needed to figure it out. (She wasn't crazy about the light shining into her bedroom window for two nights in a row.) Did you know that power surges from thunderstorms can trip a motion sensor light? And that the first thing to do is turn off the circuit breaker for the light? Well, now I know, and the light is fixed. The running toilet is still a work in progress, but I'm on the right track.

In the process of searching the web for how to info, I stumbled into the Be Jane website. There's some frivolous stuff there; at some point several months ago I believe they offered pink tool belts for sale. (Just because I'm a woman, it doesn't mean I intend to 'accessorize' with a freaking pink tool belt! If anything, I'm a city dame so black would be just fine, thanks.) But beyond the girlie slant, there's some really really helpful 'how to' sections with good clear pictures. And they describe the steps clearly without being condescending or overly technical. It's definitely worth a look.

So the other night I was telling (boasting to) my friends, Louis and Kathy, about fixing some items around the house. I know it wasn't rocket science by any means, but I was proud of the fact that I did it myself. Both of them are very skilled house renovators, among other talents, so they understood the pride. Louis, joked that I was turning into Rosie the Riveter. I happen to adore Rosie, as shown at the top of the post.


However, did you know that that's not the real Rosie?! According to Wikipedia, that image has mistakenly become known as Rosie the Riveter, but this image by Norman Rockwell is the real Rosie.
For more interesting info on the Rosie the Riveter campaign during the war effort, read HERE, and for real life women working during the war effort, and source of the fantastic black and white photos, see HERE.

What's not to love about Rosie?!
A real, healthy looking, tough cookie of a woman, and she's actually eating for heaven's sakes. So in the span of a few days, I've learned how to fix a sink, a toilet, and a light, and I've acquired a new female icon. Not bad!

My Wild Kingdom

Do you ever stop and wonder...
what design and lifestyle bloggers' own homes look like?
Do they live as glamorously as the homes and images they portray?
Is life all about icy cold cocktails, pristine furnishings, witty banter, and fabulous frocks?
In a word, NO.
Not that this is exactly a design blog, and I don't try to present myself as living glamorously, but just no.

Darlings, there's a good reason why I like to get lost in the (assumed) elegance and style of an earlier era. Some days it helps me forget about the realities of actually living in a house from roughly the same time period. You see, my little nonagenarian cottage has more residents than I usually like to admit to in polite company. Besides Smithy and me, and the canine trio, from time to time there is evidence of creatures like this in the basement:

Which, over time, and with enough imagination and lots of icy cold cocktails, have turned into something more like this:

Rodent Of Unusual Size

from The Princess Bride

Now, I like to think of myself as a tough cookie.
A salt of the earth type.

But when actual vermin have been sighted, I revert to my suburban, upper middle-class roots, and start shrieking.

Sadly, Smithy seems to be a sudden and most emphatic believer in feminism whenever an assault on the four-legged foes is mentioned, so it looks like I'm on my own. He is not at all like this:
But then, I don't look exactly like Buttercup either...

Most of the exterminators I've spoken with so far are going to cost something akin to a couple of mortgage payments, so this is beginning to look like a DIY project out of my worst nightmares.

Because of these guys
I can't in good conscience use the typical poison bait blocks.
I'm just not willing to risk it.

Not to mention the potential impact on some of my less often viewed neighbors like these guys:
And last week I had a vivid dream with lots of these guys in it. Let's not talk about the dream symbolism...
*Elizabeth's comment reminded me that we occasionally have seen an Eastern Kingsnake hanging out in the boxwoods. Even with the delectable treats in the nearby basement, we haven't been able to convince it to become a permanent resident.
So it looks like it's time to put on the proverbial 'big girl panties', suck it up, and deal with the rat bastards.

I'm envisioning kitting myself out in something like this:


with an inspirational t-shirt like this:


so I can begin the eviction process.

Friday is D-Day - if I can psych myself up enough.
If I'm not back by Monday, send a search team to the basement of Chez Dame.

And if things get well and truly desperate, we might just have to get a cat. (Noooooooo!!!!)
Unfortunately, the canine crew is, ahem, not fond of cats - at all.