Frame I

I had two huge worries when we started this project. Well, besides money. And besides getting so frustrated that I'd just up and quit. The first was setting the posts into the ground. The second was framing the roof.

Happy to say, the first worry has been taken care of.



JT's best bud came today for a playdate. If there's anything more challenging than trying to construct a fort with one whiny little kids it's...Well, you get the picture. Strangely enough, JT looked upon his friend's attitude and altered his own. Maybe because it was his fort. Maybe because he saw how annoying he could be. Either way, it was really nice working with him today.

In other news, toxic-chemical-soaked 4x4s, toxic-chemical-soaked 2x8s and 2x6s (toxic chemicals are heavy), one seven-year old, one eight-year old...I know it's not all square and plumb, but it's beautiful to me! I couldn't get the top plates on because they were too heavy for me to hold up and screw in with the 8-yo tentatively holding on to one end. Hopefully the man can help this weekend.

One alteration we made is visible in the front. The fort is supposed to be 8'x6', but 2x6s don't come in 6' lengths. The plan was to screw the suckers on and cut them to fit. But, once they were up, we realized they'd make a great porch. Of course, the entrance is supposed to be on the side, but we can rig a sliding panel (ala the myriad livestock gates I made with my uncle when I was in high school) on that wall.

The post ends are also not level. I really didn't see how it was possible to dig holes and make measurements such that I could cut them to size before they were up and attached. I'll have to go up there with the jig saw once the top plates are up.

We were out of wood and patience, so we called it a day. Since then, I've spent the last couple of hours writing a chapter on the different types of walls. Stone, masonry, dob, sod, timber-framed, stick-framed--who knew there were so many? I haven't made up the worksheet, yet. I need to make sure it isn't too overwhelming. Maybe I can present it in stages--tents and solid walls, then timber-framed and stick framed.

But the next step is to get JT some work boots. He's been asking for some, and I'll do about anything to keep that good attitude going!

I am seriously beginning to look forward to the day JT goes to college and I can claim the fort as my own.

I just have to figure out how to frame the roof.

Fits and Starts

Work on the fort has been touch and go. Monday we tackled the ground-breaking. JT discovered that breaking ground is stinkin' hard work. We cleared off the grass and dug two post holes and called it a day as far as physical labor goes.

That doesn't cover the drama. JT's never been diagnosed ADHD, and if he is, it's probably fairly mild, but boy-howdy, Monday was a pain. Every two minutes I had to tell him to get working. Yeah, it was hard, but so is a lot of stuff he's happy to do without problem. I was tired, it was hot, my allergies were acting up, and he was under the impression that if he quit working, I'd do it for him.

After the millionth shoulder-droop-sigh-of-despair (you know what I'm talking about?), I sent him to his room and told him that for the next half-hour he needed to write about his fort to his grandma. I went up there half an hour later, and he was twenty minutes into a new Lego creation. Which he spent the rest of the day frustrated with because the Legos hated him and wouldn't stay together. I seriously considered taking the Legos away, but I figured that was punishing me more than him.

At least the yard looked all right.



I sat down at the computer and came up with a worksheet on four different types of foundations. He had another sheet of paper's worth of questions to answer. Here's the source material:



Here's the sheet of questions:



Guess how long it took him to finish. (Hint: three hours!)

He was frustrated, I was frustrated...I decided something needed to be done. So I called the base clinic to set up ADHD screening. Guess what. They won't screen for ADHD unless the parent can get an education professional to fill out the forms as well. So, if I wanted to take time out of the school year to do this, or if I worked full time and sent him to after school care, or if I worked even part time and sent him to a day care, they would talk to me. But the fact that it's me that's home with him all summer and every day after school means they can't do anything until school starts.

I still hold that I did not hang up on the lady. I hung up on myself. If I hadn't, I'm sure the nice lady would have immediately transferred me to mental health.

Tuesday, my wonderful friend, Evangeline Denmark, called and requested JT's presence to entertain her Chunky (who isn't) and Monkey (who is). I was able to have a relaxing lunch with my husband and our friends who run gotquestions.org. Then I brought JT home, I went upstairs for a nap, and he got on the internet without permission.

The screensaver now has a password.

And Evangeline said it was the most relaxing day she'd had in a while.

The in-laws come tomorrow, so today was dedicated to getting the house in some kind of order. JT helped as cheerfully as I know he can. Late morning, we went for a bike ride wherein we saw this:



We came home, ate lunch, and started work on the backyard. All the sod we'd pulled up had been drying under the tree, so JT stuffed it into bags and hauled it to the gate while I edged, mowed, and weeded. That was enough work for one day, so we hied ourselves to the nearest Josh & John's wherein I partook of chai ice cream (kinda bland) and he got chocolate chip (yummy!).

When we got home, he reminded me we hadn't hung up his dying-zebra-baseball-rack. So we did.



The child then spent the next two hours creating a new cover for his driver. At first, he tried to embroider a "6" onto a slipper-sock. (Not that his club is a 6-wood (is there such a thing?), but the original, lost, cover had a "3" on it and I guess he thought 6 would be twice as good.) When the thread proved to be uncooperative, he just did this:



Two hours. Happily sewing onto slipper socks. I don't get him.

At least he's cute.



Meanwhile, I'm hoping his grandpa will help me set the posts for the fort. 'Cus I don't think I'm going to be able to do it with just JT.

And, yes. I know his shirt's on in-side-out.

The Bar

JT has been extraordinarily self-entertained the last few days building a Lego monstrosity called the "Combinatron 16,000." Sadly, the creation met an untimely death in the bottom of a cold, hard bathtub, but it gave me time to finish a project that was long overdue.

Over a year ago, a neighbor set a six-foot long base cabinet and its matching wall cabinet out on the sidewalk, free to a good home. My husband has been wanting a bar in the basement since we bought the house three years ago. I'm not sure why, since his idea of the perfect mixed drink is hot chocolate and Bailey's. Instead of going down to American Furniture Warehouse, plunking down $300, and getting a pine bar that matches our furniture, I decided to take this base cabinet and...dress it up.

First off, I had to chop several inches off the length. There's only one place we can really put it, and it would have blocked the path to the laundry area and bathroom. JT and I pried one side off, cut about fifteen inches off the top, front, and floor, and reattached the side. We also had to cut a few inches off the bottom, as much of the wood had rotted. Then I built up supports and put casters on the bottom in such a way that it's moderately easier to move the behemoth. The side that was cut from is no longer wide enough to fit the drawers, so I moved them under the left side drawers. The new plywood/backerboard top is screwed in from the bottom so the table top should come off from below. The steel kick-plate is roof flashing I'd used for a kitchen back splash in a previous house, and the paint's all left overs from living room. HD had a sale on slate tile, so a friend and I slathered on the thin-set and put them on.

And there it sat for half of forever. We used to have a real-live lumber yard when we lived here before, but it's gone as HDs and Lowes have sprung up in every neighborhood. I had to dig to find the red oak trim to match the original cabinet. Then I had to dig several months to find the motivation to put it on.

Two days ago, I did. Yesterday I went back and fixed one side, stained it, and grouted the tile. I still need to slather the trim with polyurethane, but it turned out kinda nice.

The slate and the trim. Next time, I need to use spacers between the tiles.

The finish was almond melamine. A strangely cheap-looking finish for a cabinet with oak trim and cool, retro hinges.

I didn't realize the trim reveal on the sides is different than that in the middle when I put in the back rail guide for the moved drawers. It makes them a little off, but the rail was so hard to get out and put back in that I left it. I had hoped to put a mini-fridge in the cubby on the right, but it's proving difficult to find one small enough to fit.

Long before the bar was finished, the wonderful guys who carried it into the basement also hung the wall cabs in the garage. I covered the melamine with garage floor paint I found in the oops rack, then a square of chalkboard paint.

One side holds saws and odds and ends. The other has bench stock (consumables like screws, nails, wood glue). The end got a bit of peg board for some of my g-pa's old tools.

Cool hinge.

Baseball Rack

We put the baseball rack together today. I think most of it will stay together, and JT had fun.

Measuring the sides

Drilling pilot holes

Attaching the mitt and hat brackets

We did go back and screw them in from behind, but I am not convinced these will stay on. When they fall off, I'll replace them with store-bought hooks.

Finished rack

Balls on top, mitts and hats in the middle, bats and bat bags on the bottom.

Painting on the primer

Afterward, he put on a coat of red. He wants go back and paint in black stripes. He also wants brown. Sadly, his mother wants something slightly less violent. I'll let him paint in the black, but brown? Really?

Construction

No, not on the fort yet. I need to be in a frame of mind wherein I'm willing to dig four post holes pretty much by myself and square up the posts. Probably next week.

JT recently joined Webelos, the thing between Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts. It is my great hope that his dad-the-Eagle-Scout will do the boring memorization things with him and I can do the cool stuff.

To wit!

One of the projects was to build a catapult. There were even instructions in the new nifty Webelos book we got. Of course, I'm allergic to instructions, so we used a shoebox instead of a milk carton and chopsticks instead of pencils. But it works!



He wanted to build a birdhouse next. Bor-ring! One of the recommended projects was a really simple shelf. I decided to up the ante and build a baseball equipment rack. He heard my description and ran for his safety goggles.

This is good practice for the fort. He got to use the jigsaw for the first time and both drills (because I'm also allergic to keeping the cordless drill's batteries charged). He liked the drill, except when we had to use the doorknob bit. He was less impressed with the loud jigsaw. We eventually put him in his batting helmet and that helped minimize the noise.

He also learned such basics as unplug the drill before you change the bit, look what you're braced against so you don't saw through something you don't want cut, and--for pity's sake!--stop stepping on the equipment! Oh, and everybody hates sanding.

I didn't take any pictures as I was too involved trying to prevent the sudden loss of fingertips. We cut out all but the sides of the rack, and I'll take some pics as we put it together. Please don't expect to be impressed. I am not a carpenter. I can't even guarantee it'll stay together.

Plotting

Today was about plotting the back yard. I drew a rough sketch, and JT and I went out and put measurements to the lines. I wanted to round the dimensions so he'd have an easier time of it drawing the diagram. He was not so keen on this idea. Why put down 21' when the true measurement was 20' 8 3/8"?

I'm borrowing a drafting machine from my boss. Technically, we should only use blank paper in it. (Technically, we should only use vellum, but typing paper's good enough for now.) I didn't want him to have to figure out some difficult ratio like 1':1/8", though, so we went with the graph paper and did it one square equals two feet.



This was actually a fairly big deal. JT is good with math and outstanding recognizing patterns, but he has a hard time translating graphs--you know, like one block equals five pumpkins. He got it down, though, with a lot of help.

Next we worked on spacial relationships. Namely, how big does the fort have to be in order for him to do what he wants to with it? We marked out a 4' by 8' footprint in the dining room. His first question was where would he put the TV? Then we mapped out 6' by 8' on the patio. He wanted it to be bigger, but I think we settled.



He decided he wants the door at a corner, which will affect the plan I'd had for the shelves and other furnishings. So we mapped out--practically--how wide the door needs to be (Yes, you can fit through a 12" opening, but can your friends?) and how much floor space inside the door he'd need to actually get into the space.

That settled, we went on to the benches. How many tushies should fit on each bench? Does everyone have as small a tushy as him? And the shelves. How wide is your biggest board game? He took that information and drew a scale drawing of the interior.


The little circle things are chains that hold up the seats when they're down. They'll be folded flat to the wall during sleep overs.

The block on the bottom left with the thing sticking up? That's a sink.

Now I have to figure out how to put in a sink.

The Mower

For the Friday Challenge

The Sears parts website used to be a treasure trove of information for the domestic tinkerer. Due to its aid, I have fixed a dryer by changing a fuse, accumulated a healthy supply of toothed couplings for my blender (although I've since received a "Magic Bullet" for smoothy-making), and replaced the rack roll kit on the upper drawer of my dishwasher (and then used a rubber band to keep the stopper in place after I broke that).

But the most ambitious and self-satisfying endeavor I have committed to was the repair of a Craftsman 6.75 hp lawn mower.

When we moved to Alabama, we had a little dinky lawn mower and a quater-acre yard filled with #1, Grade-A Alabama weeds. They grew a foot a day and I spent two summers mowing twice a week before I went out after a heavy rainstorm and hand-weeded the blasted place. The mower died everytime the grass was taller than six inches, and I longed for something more. Something that wouldn't jam and cut out when forced to mow a wet lawn. Something with a self-propellor that actually worked. So we ditched ours and I used our neighbor's until we got orders to Hawaii.

Our first house in Hawaii was a beautiful little 1100-sq-footer with rent of $2100/month. The lawn was zoysia--and if you know anything about zoysia you know it's extremely hardy and grows extremely slowly. In addition, the owners hired a yard service.

Ten months later we moved to a four-plex on base with St. Augustine or centipede or some other tropic grass that gave me hives whenever I touched it. I went down to the Hickam BX and checked out their meager selection.

Amidst the Snappers and Briggs & Strattons was an anomaly. A Craftsman, 6.75 hp with no corresponding tag on the shelf and no owner's manual. But the price was good and I couldn't get over the horse power. I could mow a sugar cane field with this baby! So I took it home.

Loaded it with gas and oil and mowed the lawn. Then it leaked all over the shed floor.

I set it out on the walk way that went to the parking area and knocked on my neighbor's back door. "My lawnmower's leaking and I don't know if the gas and the oil will catch the dried grass on fire. I've left our kitchen fire extinguisher next to it. I'm going to get some kitty litter."

In addition, I went back to the BX. Yes, they'd take it back. But, man, it was such a good price. Surely it wouldn't hurt to take a look, right?

Sears parts catalog to the rescue. Using their exploded parts diagram, I was able to take the motor apart and find the oil pan was cracked. I think they called it an "oil pan." What it really was, was the entire cast iron bottom of the engine assembly. Cracked right through.

So I did what any reasonable military wife with no job and a pre-schooler would do. I ordered a new one. Of course, the Sears parts store on the island didn't carry them. And shipping was atrocious. But what can you do? It arrived, all bright and shiny and unpainted a while later.

What didn't arrive was the felt seal between the two pieces. And of course it was attached to the old pan and not the upper assembly and refused to come off save in many small pieces. Fortunately, my best friend's husband is a gear head. He had some gasket felt that he willingly gave me having long-ago figured it's far easier to just buy a new gasket than cut it to order. He did give me the great advice to put oil on the raw edge of the pan and press it down on the felt, thereby creating a pattern to cut.

I don't remember how many times I had to go back in and fiddle around to get all the pieces where they were supposed to be. Or how many bags of kitty litter I went through. But, somehow, by the grace of God, it worked. The mower's sitting in our shed now, five years later, waiting for our Kentucky blue grass-mix to grow just a little higher.

And the blessed thing will cut through anything and not stall.

Roses and Aspens

It's low 80s, today, and so clear you get skin cancer just looking out the window. Perfect day to crank up the zydeco music and work in the yard, yeah?

The spot in the yard where I'd like to place the fort was home to two very large rose bushes. I'm not overly fond of roses. My mom and grandma doted over theirs, pruning and fertilizing and picking off the aphids. I ignore mine. Don't even water them. That's probably why mine are threatening to take over the yard and theirs always looked so anemic.

A friend in town does like roses. She recently extended their paver patio and had just the perfect spot for them--where lack of water and over-abundance of dog had killed the grass anyway. She's been talking about coming and getting them for a year, but today was finally the day.



As you can see, they're ginormous. JT and I started by pruning them back. One had a lot of dead branches, the other had a lot of live ones that wouldn't fit in my friend's SUV. I haven't touched the things in the three years we've lived here, and I really know nothing about the care and survival of roses. Hope I didn't kill them.



In the end, we had a respectable pile of thorny sticks that rebelled against any confinement into Hefty bags.

The other day, whilst surveying the terrain, I noticed that our neighbor's little aspen grove had born babies.



I'm all about free trees, so before we dug up the roses, we dug up another part of the yard to transplant the trees. Our soil in CSprings is a thin layer of sod over clay. The type of clay you make bricks out of. So after we scraped away the sod, we had to steal mulch from a currently unused garden and dig it in. It was nasty. But hopefully, in a few years, the trees will block the lights that shine in the living room window from the car dealerships half a mile away.



Lessons learned: JT learned that yard work is hard. Especially when you're in a grouchy mood, anyway. But friends and zydeco music make it better. He also learned what knuckle-busters are.

As for me...I was flipping through a photo album a friend made for us when we left CSprings the last time. She lived behind us and included pictures of our yard. I'd forgotten how much work we'd done to that yard and how it actually turned out pretty nice. I have a tendency to only see (and remember) the mistakes I made, but her album gave me hope. Maybe this will turn out well.

Now our yard is ready for post holes.

Or is it?

Of Stories and Lowe's

datatroll gave a delightful list of what JT should have for his fort. My favorite is the drive-through McDonalds in case he gets hungry driving around in his tank. JT, on the other hand, can't understand why he can't have a tunnel from his room to the fort. Or, for that matter, electricity to power his own kitchen.

After my post yesterday, he did indeed write down his list. Here it is:
1. A carpet.
2. A TV with an X-box. (Yes, troll, great minds think alike.)
3. Game Bords and Puzzles.
4. Desk.
5. sleeping bags.
6. kitchin for small and big kids.
7. A slide that can go under the for [sic] an emergency excit for: er!er!er!er!...[That's the sound of an alarm.]
8. Stairs for an Entrance.
9. some chairs.
10. A coat-hanger.
11. Pictures of me and other pictures.
12. Balls and bats for hiting outside.
13. auto planes and cars.
14. 2 windows.
15. A Door. [That's my boy! The practical one!]
16. Blinds.
17. clock.
18. Plant.
19. computer.
20. Books.
21. Tissus.
22. End of List!

Although, then he added a trascan [sic] and movies.

Today he drew a picture of the inside of the fort. Then I had him write a story about what he would do in the fort. He hates writing stories. Usually he'll just copy the plot of a Clone Wars episode. This story was priceless, though.

One day a kid named JT had a friend that day and the friends name was Jordan. That day he helped with my fort and when the fort was done I took a tour by my self and then Jordan paid me one dollar to have a tour also. The rest of the day we played for fourteen ours [hours] intill Jordan had to go. So when Jordan had to go we both cleaned up properly and cleaned up everything except for the X-box 360. That was one of my exciting, fun, extraordinary, exsplosive day of my life with Jordan. (Some other days I may play with other friend in my fort: on Sundays for Bible studys or sleepovers or playdates or for some pets like: fish, frogs, little dogs, small birds like that. Or it can be for some projects for school witch if you ask me it is probably the best place to be on a school day or two.)

I'm indecisive on whether I'll help him correct his spelling. He gets very angry when he has to erase and rewrite something. Then I over-react, he gets sent to his room, and I retreat to the bath.

Later today, we went to B&N to look through some books written by people who actually know how to build forts. One book had four different plans: a pirate ship, a cottage with a porch, a hobbit house, and a fort that sat on top of a storage shed (I so want that one!). Obviously, these people are crazy and have far too much time on their hands.

We did find some good information as to spans for floorboards and floor joists. Looks like we can use 2x4s for the joists, easily.

After sitting at The Green Two-Tailed Mermaid and working out some design options (he liked the idea of benches that can fold up to the wall, but he also wants a hole in the center of the table right over a hole in the floor so he can just scoop the crumbs to the ground) we went to Lowe's and priced out some of the lumber. He also picked out colors for his flames and said he wanted the interior support beams painted in his favorite colors--red and blacked striped. Ugh! I wish his Godmother was here. She could make that look pretty!



Flames? Seriously?



The floorplan of the interior. We actually found a rug similar to his design at Lowe's.

A New Project

I have been remiss in keeping this blog in any state of updatedness. Hopefully, that is about to change.

It is summer. And in the midst of editing stories and schlepping them around to people who might want to read them, I have taken on a Herculean task. I have one boy, 8 1/2, (No, we're not planning on having any more, thank you. If you knew him, you'd know why.) who we'll call JT. He is very bright, but young for his grade, and consistently falls shy of school district standards. (No, I do not homeschool, thank you. If you knew me, you'd know why!) So he benefits greatly by the blessing that is summer school. Sadly, budget restrictions have put the kibosh on summer school this year, so it's up to me.

Poor kid.

In the past, I've half-heartedly relied on Summer Bridge workbooks. I would have loved these books at his age. I thought workbooks were a treat right up there with foot-high ice cream cones from Zo's. But alas, the child is not terribly interested.

What he is, is terribly mechanical. Ridiculously mechanical. How mechanical? Mechanical enough to go from this:



to this:



in about five hours with no help.

So in an effort to have him work on math, writing, reading, and general organizational skills in a way that will bless his heart and keep his excitement up, we are attempting something new. We're going to build a fort. But we're not just going to build a fort. He's going to plan the fort, write a list of things he wants to do in it, write a story about it, plot it in the yard, draw it (using basic drafting skills), and construct it.

I just hope I can keep up. I have a terrible habit of starting these things (guitar lessons?) and getting distracted.

So today I give our first report.

Today we went to Target and Office Max to get planning supplies--paper, mechanical pencils, colored pencils, a 3-ringed binder, basic drafting supplies (man that tape is still stinkin' expensive!), and so forth.

Tally:
Target: $17.57
Office Max: $18.74

We recorded the expenses and organized the supplies. Now he's drawing a picture of what he wants the outside of the fort to look like. Apparently, flames will be required.