the joys of home ownership

We’ve been our house for a little over a year now. It’s our second house. The first one was an older three-bedroom, brick house. It had lots of charm: hardwood floors, old wood windows, six-panel solid-wood doors, and radiator heat. The kitchen and bathroom had been remodeled before we moved in. We lived there happily for nearly five years.

When my wife got pregnant, we knew the house was going to quickly become too small. The driveway barely allowed enough space for us to get in and out of our Liberty, so we knew getting a baby in and out would be nearly impossible. The yard was small. The street was busy and sloped and cobblestone. And we hated our neighbors.

Additionally, the old wood windows were drafty. It was impossible to pull a car into the garage. The basement was unfinished and we knew that eventually, having only three bedrooms and one bath was going to be tough on our future family. We also wanted to move closer to our parents so that they’d be closer to the baby. We only lived 5 miles from where we grew up, but the drive could take as much as 30 minutes.

We searched for and found the perfect house. It was a four-bedroom, 2 ½ bath brick house on a cul-de-sac. The driveway was two cars wide and the garage was useable. It needed some updates (we knew we would miss our more modernized kitchen and bath), but it had a lot going for it. Or so we thought.

We moved in on December 30, 2003. Because I work for a financial institution, I had to work on Saturday, January 3, 2004. On that day, Pittsburgh received an unusual amount of rain. Had it snowed, we might have been okay. But it didn’t. It rained. Buckets.

My wife and I were in the finished basement of our new home unpacking photographs. I looked down at the box I was unpacking and the carpet around it looked darker. I thought maybe the shadows were playing tricks on me at first. Then I stood up from the couch I had been sitting on. Instantly, my feet we soaked. I grabbed the box and moved it to higher ground. Then we moved the couch away from the wall and noticed that the carpet was floating. The basement began flooding.

The previous owners had lived in the house for 46 years. The basement had never flooded in that time. Or so they say. Since that day in early 2004, we’ve had water in our basement 7 or 8 times. In the last year and three months. Pretty incredible odds. I should play the lottery. Or maybe not. I didn’t win anything in Vegas.

Our flooding has never been all that bad. I’ve seen people on the news who have water on their first floor. We usually only get water about an inch deep and it eventually makes its way down the drain in the laundry room. It still sucks. Now that spring is coming, the basement stinks. You can smell it when you come in the front door. We keep candles burning to remedy that issue.

I went through a phase where I hated the house and just wanted to move. However, in that same year and three months, we have remodeled the kitchen (it is beautiful), removed carpeting in four rooms to reveal the hardwood floors (five if you include the basement, which isn’t really finished anymore and is concrete under the carpet), and painted those four rooms.

Our daughter’s nursery is one of the rooms we repainted. My wife’s aunt painted the most beautiful mural of a meadow and a pond for the room, with clouds on the ceiling and a tree in the corner. The tree’s trunk is actually a small shelf my wife’s uncle made. And I refinished the hardwood floor in there. The floor looks great and I want to redo the floors in the other two upstairs bedrooms too. Next on the list though is the bathroom upstairs. It is the ugliest shade of pink I’ve ever seen, complete with a pink bathtub.

I’ve learned a lot in that time too. I’ve learned that although we were honest on our disclosure, the previous owners (a seemingly sweet older couple) were not. I’ve also learned that homeowner’s insurance will cover a stopped up toilet, but not groundwater that leaks through the foundation (stupid people are rewarded, but acts of God are your responsibility). I’ve also learned you can’t get flood insurance if you aren’t in a flood plain.
More importantly though, I’ve learned that you can’t stop Mother Nature. This spring, I want to dig down to the foundation to see if I can’t do something to stop the water from coming in. I have also learned that there are more important things in life than a leaky basement. I’ve been learning that for nearly ten months now.

flowers in the Valley

We got up pretty early that Saturday morning and left the Luxor for the Rio to hit the breakfast buffet. From there, we took off for Death Valley. Myself and 8 of my college buddies made a trip to Las Vegas on March 17-21 to celebrate two of them who won’t be bachelors much longer. I didn’t go to any nudie bars and I didn’t see any shows; topless or otherwise. I did lose about $60 on slots and split my bets (lost 2, won 2) on the second day of the Final Four Tournament. But had Kevin, Wolfe, and I not gone to Death Valley, I think I would have been disappointed in my first trip west of the Mississippi.

The drive from Vegas to Death Valley was quite long and it was further extended because of flash floods last August that washed out a good portion of California Highway 190. The detour brought us to the town of Beatty, NV and the Beatty Visitors Center. Beatty isn’t the smallest town I’ve ever been in, but it seemed almost as much of a ghost town as Rhyolite, our first stop in Death Valley National Park. It was an interesting little historical side trek on our daytrip in the park, but not the reason we had driven over 2 ½ hours.

Rhyolite ghost town

I consider myself an outdoorsy-type. I don’t hunt or fish, but I like to hike and camp. I’ve never gone backpacking, but I really want to and before I die, I’d like to bike the GAP Trail from Pittsburgh to Washington D.C. However, nothing I’ve ever seen could have prepared me for the beauty of Death Valley.

When we stopped at Hell’s Gate, the view of the valley below reminded me of something from a Hollywood movie. It almost looked fake; like a backdrop. The day had been pretty much overcast with a mist of rain and temperatures at Rhyolite were in the lower 40’s. Down in the valley, however, it looked as though the sun was trying to poke its rays through the blanket of clouds. The basin had water in it and along with the salt deposits, it looked as if there was snow on the valley floor.

The View into Death Valley from Hell's Gate

And then there were the wildflowers. We had heard reports in the news back home in Pittsburgh that wildflower growth not seen in over 50 years had sprung up in Death Valley. To see it in person, it looked as though there were seas of yellow and green in an area not known to support so much life. We took a couple of other side treks... we stopped at the Harmony Borax Works, had a beer and chicken fingers at the saloon at Furnace Creek, we hiked Golden Canyon, and we stopped at Badwater, the lowest point in North America. If we had more time, we all would have like to have seen more of the park, but given that the park is over 5,200 square miles and we only had about 8 hours, we got to see quite a lot.

A sea of flowers

The aroma of the flowers was like walking into a floral shop

Vegas is an interesting town and I’m glad I went, but I actually wish I had spent three days in Death Valley and only one day in Vegas instead of the reverse. I had a great time seeing all of those guys, but the best of it was the 12 hours or so that Kevin, Wolfe and I spent in the rented red Camry seeing a beautiful part of America.

Play Ball!!

The Pittsburgh Pirates open the 2005 season on April 4 at home against the Milwaukee Brewers. Being a Pittsburgher, I have been a Pirates fan my whole life (note: I am also a big Yankees fan. Call me a front-runner if you like, but I became a Yankee fan at about age 10 when Don Mattingly played first base and the Yankees never won a World Series. I too think Steinbrenner is a big jerk, but until the owners can all make a decision to level the playing field, that’s not going to change. The Yankees are my second favorite team (I have a cat named Jeter) and since the Pirates suck (but I still love them), the Yankees give me something to root for in October).

I’ve never been to a home opener, and this year will likely be no different. There is an early season game I want to attend, however. On April 15th, the Buccos play the Cubbies. I’m not going in the hopes of seeing Mark Prior pitch (he’s out with an elbow injury anyway) and the steroid-pumped Sammy Sosa was traded to the Orioles. The reason I want to go is plain and simple: the Pirates are giving away a Jason Bay bobblehead.

I collect bobbles. Specifically, I have every Pirates player bobblehead that was given away at PNC Park. I have a few other bobbles (a Nittany Lion standing in Beaver Stadium, the first Penguins Mario Lemieux giveaway), but I collect the ones they give out at PNC Park. Some of them are “Players Who Don’t Play for Pittsburgh Anymore” (Brian Giles, Jason Kendall) and some are Hall of Famers (Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell). Some fit the “What?” category (Manny Sanguillen). Regardless, I have one of each of them. I even have both Josh Gibson dolls (they gave away both the same night and I actually traded one of my two Pittsburgh Crawfords Gibson bobbles and $20 for a Homestead Grays bobble).

I am hoping my daughter ends up a fan of baseball. My wife is, so there’s a good chance. Last month, I bought her a pink Pirates onesie and shorts outfit at Wal-Mart for her to wear to some games this summer. We took her to her first game last September 24th. She mostly just slept, even through the post game fireworks, but it was sort of magical to me. I hope it was the start of a summer family tradition. I won’t bog my daughter down with how to box score a game (I can’t even do it well myself) or a lot of game theory, but I hope she learns to love the game.

In addition to the Bay giveaway, there are three other bobblehead nights this year. There were no player bobbleheads given away at PNC Park in 2004 and it didn’t matter much anyway. My wife and I only made it to two games last summer: the night before my daughter was born and that night in September.

As for the Pirates themselves.... I am guessing this will be their 13th consecutive losing season. I’ll still go see them play though, and I’ll root against the visiting team. I’d love to see the Pirates in it into October, but I think that’s still a few seasons down the road. Maybe if they are better by 2010, my daughter will have a greater love for the game.

Her first Pirates game

just my $0.02

While I’m thinking about it, I’m going to make my first political/religious opinion posting. I may get some negative comments on this (that is, assuming anyone ever reads this), but too bad.

I think Terri Schiavo has a right to die and I think the media and the politicians should stop making her life a circus. I’ve been saying for a long time. First, let me address the politicians.

I don’t think Jeb Bush is a bad guy. I think his heart is in the right place. I can’t imagine the pain that Terri’s husband and Terri’s parents have been going through for the last 15 years, and I don’t think Jeb does either. I think he was trying to do what he thought was right. However, I still think his motives are somewhat political. I think George W. is basically being the flip-flop artist he accused Senator Kerry of being however. While Governor of Texas, G.W. allowed legislation to pass that allows terminally ill patients have their support pulled if the family can’t pay for the medical care. So, as I see it, it is okay to keep someone alive in G.W.’s eyes, but only if the money is there. This is the same man who allowed the congressional ban on assault rifles to expire (I’m still waiting for the news report on the bear that was so big that the hunter needed an uzi to kill it). How can someone who supports assault rifles and pulling the plug on economically challenge terminally ill patients stand up and say he’s pro life?

Now for the religious side of the argument. Let me start by stating that I am a Catholic and that I attend church every week. This morning I read an interesting interview on MSNBC.com with a Jesuit priest. He basically said what I’ve been saying (although he had the right background to back his statements up. He basically stated that while a breathing tube may not be an extraordinary way of sustaining life, keeping someone alive with the aid of one is disproportionately burdensome. Therefore, she’s really is being kept alive in an extraordinary way. He also pointed out that in the Catholic faith, death is not ‘bad’. If she hasn’t sinned (or if she has and those sins have forgiven) then Terri is on her way to heaven.
I’d also like to note that she’s not suffering, at least according to the doctors who have actually examined her to make their assessment of her condition. They have stated that she is in a vegetative state (for every expert on one side, there is another expert who will argue for the other side) and that she isn’t really sensing pain or truly reacting to her surroundings. Also, when the body is starved, it begins to shut down different processes. Starving isn’t painful like a bleeding stomach or pancreatic cancer. Terri is being a humanly terminated at U.S. law allows (see: Kevorkian, Dr.)

In my opinion, which is not really important at all, Terri should be allowed to die. In all honesty, she was heading that way herself in 1991 when she suffered the heart attack that caused the lack of oxygen to her brain that put her in this state. And what caused the heart attack? Terri was bulimic. It could be argued that she was trying to kill herself, which is also against Catholic teaching.

My last point is a little scary too. It seems there are about 30,000 cases of people in a vegetative state in the U.S. Why aren’t any of these cases in the spotlight? What makes Terri’s case so special? Is it that her husband and her parents stand on opposite sides? I also read that the parents’ claims that Mr. Schiavo neglected Terri are unfounded. In 15 years, Terri has never had a single bedsore. In 15 years!! The home she is being cared for in wanted to have a restraining order on him. Not because he was abusing her, but because his demands that the home was not providing the best care for Terri was burdening them. Her parents need to accept the fact that in all aspects but the physical, Terri is already gone. God rest her soul.

long time, no blog

So I haven’t done this in a while and I guess it’s a combination of being too busy and knowing that there is no (known) audience. But would Hawthorne have stopped writing if he knew no one would read House of the Seven Gables? I doubt it. So after a long hiatus, I’ve decided to pick up the pen (or keyboard; don’t get technical on me) and start this blog back up.

So my daughter, who is the original inspiration for this blog, is now nearly 10 months old and is crawling all over the house and can pull herself up as well. Having a child is the greatest thing ever. I know that is so cliché, but it’s the honest to goodness truth. Work has been pure hell lately, but by the time I get home and see her smiling face (and my wife’s; she’s as great as ever too), I am so happy to know I have her and work is just a memory.

I can also admit, it’s amusing to me that she started making a “da-da-da-da” sound before “ma-ma-ma-ma”. I know she is only babbling at this point, and my wife would be pretty pissed if I gloated in front of her, but I think it is pretty neat. I need to enjoy these things, because I know by the time she’s 14 or so, things are going to start to be different between us. She is, for now (and for some time), Daddy’s Little Girl. I will spoil her until the cows come home.

Some other things I want to note, more for my sake. I’d hate to think I’d forget this stuff, but everyone says you do. First, she’s an angel. Yesterday, after having a play date with Jake, Emma, and Paige, she hadn’t napped and seemed exhausted. Yet, when we went to dinner at Eat-n-Park with “Uncky Bri” and “Aunt Steppy” she was incredibly pleasant. She’s a hog too... last night she downed a jar of sweet potatoes and turkey and chased it with a large container of apple sauce and still drank most of a bottle. My daughter can eat!! J Also, she’s a lot stronger than I thought a 9½-month-old could be. She kicks hard and she’s able to pull and lift more than I would have expected. Maybe it’s normal, but how am I to know. I’m a first time dad, remember?