Windows!

Today was long. Especially long for my father-in-law, Kenny. He's the one in the green shirt on the outside of the hole that used to be Cowen's window.










You are all sufficiently aware that I know nothing about construction. However, Kenny informed me that this job was not something he would do again because instead of the bricks being 8 inches thick (like all the other brick he's worked with), they were 10 inches thick. This made it very hard to cut through them as the saw didn't go all the way from one side.

Notice the dust.









A little more dust.

















A whole lot more dust. This dust is now coating every surface in my house. I'm not sure what to do about that. Clean now or wait until after the sanding is done. Clean after each. Sit on the floor and cry like a baby. Wait--I just need a few more nights of good sleep and it won't seem so overwhelming.

Of course, by then, the dust might have become a permanent fixture in my home.









This is Kenny cutting on the outside of the house. It looked like really brutal, back-breaking labor. Like I mentioned, he said it was something to try once and never do again. He saved us lots of money though, as we didn't have to hire a professional concrete cutter. THANK YOU, KENNY!!!













I'm sure Kenny was also frustrated that our house wasn't wired that well, and the breaker kept . . . whatever it is a breaker does when it pops out and stops allowing electricity through. I contributed to the whole project by staying in the kitchen and pushing the breaker back in every few minutes. Being Kenny (he's a LOT like Timothy or rather, Timothy is a LOT like him), he didn't act frustrated--but deep inside, I'm sure it was frustrating.










And more dust.

















After cutting, the bricks had to be hammered/pulled out.




















Cowen loves finishing the basement. He is in boy heaven. Here he is demonstrating his hammering prowess.
















This is the concrete block Cowen used as a hammering board to hammer all the small pieces of concrete into smaller pieces. Miraculously, he didn't manage to hammer his toe.








Timothy mixing mud . . . I mean, grout. Nice hands.















Cowen's new window!!














Cowen sanding. Apparently, there are still numerous coats of mud (I think it really is called mud--but I'm not sure) to put onto Miriam's new dry wall before the new walls and ceiling match the old ones.

Did you ever see such a contented boy?? The only injury he's sustained is a hole in his foot where he stepped on a screwdriver when he wasn't wearing his boots. Since then, I haven't had to remind him to keep footwear on at all times.









The downside. The major, major downside. This is Emeline's room. Notice that three children are in this room.

As a parent I've come to realize many things. 1) locking your children in their own rooms at night has advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is you can lock them in and then pretend that you don't have children. The disadvantage is that if you try to get them to sleep anywhere but their own prison cell . . . I mean room . . . then they are TERRIBLE about going to sleep. I visit Megan's sometimes, and she puts her kids to bed with their doors open and the hallway lights on and her children NEVER LEAVE THEIR BEDS. How did she teach them to do this???!!! Lindsay Ann brings Hailey over and puts her to sleep in my bed and never worries about Hailey getting into anything. How is this accomplished????

As the kids will be sleeping all together in Emeline's room for the next few weeks--I'd appreciate any advice you have in this area. Like usual, I lost my temper tonight with them and spanked them and like usual--spanking had no affect. It never does. One of the many reasons I'm against spanking.

That's about it for today. I wasn't feeling well, so I had a hard time just going through the motions of being awake. I did manage to get bread made and put a nice supper on the table. I also got some grading done. Oh yeah, funny story--I received a post from a student who said basically, "I know real professors at real universities and they are all smarter than you and they think your comments are lame." I'm not sure why he's upset with me, but my question is this: if he thinks I'm a fake teacher at a fake university, what does that indicate about him that he's paying for a fake diploma? Just a question.

I'm off to bed now. After I fold some laundry and yell at the kids a little more. Just kidding. I'm repenting and will whisper to them. That should work.


Don't be misled by the charming smile. Demons, all of them.