Tuesday, May 9, 2023

Fifteen Years

Fifteen years ago today, I signed the papers to own my house. Shortly thereafter I started this blog. I loved writing my blog entries. It is the closest to an actual diary I’ve ever had. 

2018 was the last time I posted. Five years ago. Back then I was browsing many a blog, until slowly, they all seem to peter out. I was dismayed when I would find a blog I enjoyed, only to have it quit, unexpectedly. What happened? Did they move to the dreaded BookFace? Did they shut down their platform? I missed them, I wanted resolution. This may be the only resolution for this blog. 
I don’t know who will still read this, but in case anyone stumbles upon my ramblings, here is an update. It might be the last. I wish it weren’t – but there we are. 

The last five years have been less a rollercoaster than being in the surf of a strong tide. I’ve wanted to write here so many times. Took pictures for projects, things I wanted to share, and yet, in the end, I didn’t find joy in writing anymore. There was too much knocking me down. Every time I would rally or something good would happen – another colossal wave would knock me down. I grew up in Southern California. At the beach, when we went, I was hit by a few strong waves, which knocked me down, filled my nose and mouth with salt water and sand, churned my equilibrium so I didn’t know which way was up, until the water ebbed and calmed. As a child I had the option to quit. Return to my towel, dry off, find calm. Now I’m a grownup, finding the towel is non-optional. Rollercoasters end. The surf and waves, never do. 

2018 brought on the worst tenant ever. No more to say about that. 

2019 brought the firing of one third of my co-workers due to lack of funds. It was devastating. We were not a corporate rat race. We were close. A family, with all of the strife that comes with that. Yet at the end of the day, we cared so much for each other. I still miss so many of them. The rest of the year at work was desolate. Those of us who were left didn’t know what to expect. We tried to rally, even though spirits were lower than ever. 

In personal life, terrible tenant was replaced with absolutely wonderful tenant, who, thankfully is still here.

I spent a week with my father in the Sierra Nevadas. 

I came home to find one of my rear neighbors had added a third floor to his house. By right, no zoning notice needed. 


2020, I was in California for the holidays and the beginning of January to celebrate my Father’s 80th Birthday. It was a wonderful celebration. Family arrived from everywhere. But even as we celebrated, there were news reports of bad things to come. 

And it came. 

In March I was furloughed indefinitely. I was on unemployment for the first time in my life. I had more income than I in my own profession. I sewed masks after reviving my grandmothers sewing machine. I learned to make pasta. I knitted a lot. All after spending most of the day in bed, doom scrolling. 

I was also teaching two classes that semester. First we were told we’d have a week to make plans, then three days, then less than 24 hours. I had my first full blown panic attack, how was I to teach my students!? Zoom to the rescue. My sister was also blind-sided, trying to manage over a thousand students at a school in Los Angeles. She organized weekly family zoom. It was a blessing to see my family once a week for a few hours to talk. It kept the terror at bay – that I might never see them again. 

In August I returned to work. I cannot do my job from home. The anxiety of returning to work was terrible. With double masks, plastic curtains to section work spaces, effusive cleaning, having conversations far away from each other, we managed. 

In September, without warning, the city demolished the house in the lot behind me. I went from my quiet, private, secret garden – to a wide-open space – visible to everyone from the other side. 

Then in November, something happened we hoped would shift the tide. I was in Rittenhouse square, on a mild autumn day, at the market, when Pennsylvania was called for Biden. The cheers that erupted, the cars honking, the snarled traffic, full of joy, was a boost we desperately needed. 


And more hope – my place of employment hired a new president. The man hit the ground running, created new projects, spoke to us with terms of “Team!” and became an indomitable force of positivity. 

January 6th 2021 I was stuck on a zoning meeting with the city. Our appointment was at 2:30. We weren’t heard until past 6:30, at which time the Zoning board’s patience had been wiped out by a whiney, wealthy, center city neighborhood arguing about a stupid shed. We were opposing a building jammed into 750 square feet of a lot. The only person allowed to ‘appear’ on the zoom call was the opposing attorney. We were there – representing a poor disenfranchised community – and subsequently shut down. It was the icing on the cake of a terrible day. 

In March I was finally fully vaccinated. Such a relief! 

In June I was able to see my family for the first time in a year and a half. So grateful to be able to go home to California for Father’s Day. 

2021 continued on – a building to the west of me spring up – blocking most of my sunset. But otherwise, things started to try to get back to normal. I finished the year in California again grateful to see family, especially my niece and nephew. 

2022 Started off with positive resolutions which seemed to be coming to fruition. The new president at work was starting his second year, and, so far so good. I was able to visit home twice in the spring, once for a conference where I presented. 

But mid-year, the good things came crashing to a halt. The property next to me had sold, and a developer decided to build a massive building, 16 units on two properties, all without a word to me. 

The demolition started on the other “half” of my building. Originally, my house was a twin, meaning it was built as two separate houses with a party wall. These houses were built in the late 19th Century, never intended to be parted. They essentially “leaned” on each other. Yanking them apart meant wrenching the foundation of my home. 
Despite superficial remodeling, the bones of these two buildings are the same. 

At same time the demolition was in full swing, SEPTA, our public transportation system, decided it was time to replace the tracks in the street. For a full month access to my home was in limbo. On the property we tried to stop at the zoning meeting on Jan 6th, sprang a building. They built higher than their plans, and instead of making sure that electrical wires were re-routed – simply incorporated them into the building. More zoning hassle. 

And Pennsylvania/Presbyterian Hospital across the way, decided to build a massive parking garage. 


Then Mr. El bought a house in Delaware and declared they were moving out. Luckily, Ms. Mary put her foot down and said she wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t think I could handle any more loss. 


In August my tenant reported a massive crack on the third floor in my house after demolition. The walls were separating. 

In September I had to hire an attorney. 

I wasn’t able to hire a structural engineer until mid-October – they are all booked up with the ridiculous amount of construction happening in the city. The Structural Engineer did not have good news. By now the project was excavating a basement lower than code and the plans, approved by Licensing and Inspection, didn’t have any plans. They simply stated – “designer required”. But there was none. 

The black washed stone behind the excavator is my basement. The blackwashed stone on the right is the basement of the house on the other side of the property. Seems no one checked to be sure the basements were level. Nor did they care. 

I started a campaign of calling the city, all were ignored. The project was digging far below my basement with no plans to underpin my building – nor contacting me for an easement to do so. Thank goodness for people in my council person’s office. They managed to finally put a stop to the project in November in order to figure out the plans. This was after walking past a few buildings in my neighborhood, which had not had the same luck. The construction destabilized their foundations and the buildings had to be evacuated and demolished. 

January 2023, despite planned resolutions for a positive year, started off terribly. In California I caught a cold from my darling niece and nephew. Really a cold – not COVID - I tested every day – never positive. I returned home on the 30th of December. On the 31st my phone “bricked” it completely shut off – wouldn’t charge - couldn’t turn it on, nothing. I couldn’t contact anyone, couldn’t access my contacts. On January 1st I lost my voice to laryngitis for a full week. This made trying to recover my phone an even more difficult task. Finally, (after discovering that two other people had the exact same thing happen at the same time on the same day! as my phone), four weeks of vendors to fix it, contacting the better business bureau, and mailing my phone in, I received a replacement. 

Then the construction project started back up. The anxiety of dealing with what was happening was astronomical. Medication helped a bit. But it wasn’t until their foundations were poured and there would be no more digging, that it began to abate. But only a bit. There was still no word on how they would protect my house. They were required to stucco and weatherize the exposed wall within 30 days of demolition. (August 2022) That didn’t happen. There is a giant gap between our buildings, they have trespassed on my property numerous times, they have no easement, and are ignoring our requests for information. 

All of that purple drywall is the new building. 

Any contact with the developers elicits asinine responses. There is a massive, four-story wall my back yard.
This is only three stories. I can't fit the final size, four stories in my camera lens. 

I have a modicum of privacy again, yet they need access to install siding to their building. Their attorneys pushed for a flimsy agreement, where we barely got any information. When I pushed back, demanding to know what they planned on doing in my garden – scaffolding? We got crickets. The antics to which they’ve subjected me are appalling. They’ve left a mess on my front roof, the back yard, and I can only imagine what the top roof looks like. We will have to go to litigation to get some response. 
I can’t believe I am here. 
The city also reassessed my property and practically doubled my property taxes. 
Fifteen years. 
The life of a house.

Thursday, November 22, 2018

The little things

I've been dealing with this cabinet since I moved in 10 years ago. It never had doors and for some reason I always thought that the vertical piece of wood was structural. It's not. In fact it's a royal pain in the neck to have to always work around it when you are looking for something. Once this dawned on me, I've been itching to take it out. How hard could it be?

 It's screwed in and it's easy to access the screws. Only problem is they aren't regular screws. Turns out they are square. And since I couldn't figure that out in spite of sticking my head in there, I decided to saw through it. 


 This worked fine, although I made a little bit of a mess of the sill. I'll have to touch that up with some stain and sanding.
When I was able to examine the screws more closely I could find the right head in my ratcheted hand-held screw driver. And of course once that little mystery was solved, the top of the slat came off easily.



And even though that board in the middle is such a small thing, I am so happy it's gone! 

The cabinet needed some serious cleaning though, as you can imagine. 


Everything was wiped down, organized and returned to it's rightful spot. 


It worked so well I'm going to do the same to the bottom cabinet with the pots and pans. Most of my pots and pans are wider than the opening and I'm forever twisting and turning them to get them out the cabinet doors. It will be so nice to just lift them out! 


This will be a more involved project though as that strut is kind of functional. If I just take it out the cabinet will look like it lost a tooth. So I'll have to make adjustments. Stay tuned...

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

And so, does it begin now?


Since the 2016 election, and maybe longer, I've been wondering which spark will ignite the fury. Was it Charlottesville? Was it the murder of a Saudi journalist at his embassy in Turkey? Would it be the more than one dozen pipe bombs mailed to the President's opponents by one of his deranged supporters? Or will it be this, the worst anti-Semitic attack on U.S. soil ever.

My mother and her mother were refugees in their own country during World War II, for the simple reason that my grandmother did not support the ruling party. Their stories of survival have been ingrained in me since childhood. I cannot fail to see the parallels between what they survived and our current political climate. And I am terrified.

At some point in my teenage years, I found the sentence in the Guinness Book of World Records, 1975 edition, that read,
                   "It has been calculated that in the 3,467 years since 1496 B.C. there have been only 230 years of peace throughout the civilized world." p. 380

I remember my shock. And here I am in 2018, wondering, in my 44 years of life on this planet, has there been a single year of peace throughout the world at all?

Democracy Now! interviewed Dr. David Glosser on Monday, October 29th, after the attack on the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh on Oct 27th. He eloquently spoke the words that express my own feelings. To see his interview, click here:
https://www.democracynow.org/2018/10/29/uncle_of_stephen_miller_pittsburgh_synagogue

The transcript is here:
DR. DAVID GLOSSER: Good morning. Before I begin, I’d like to express my condolences to my many friends and relatives in Pittsburgh, and specifically in the Squirrel Hill region, where they live.
We have now been subject to the consequences of our political leaders abandoning their moral responsibilities. The question has been asked: What happens when hate speech becomes legitimized and it becomes acceptable in our political discourse to condemn and vilify innocent people on the basis of race, religion, national origin or color? The answer has made itself very clear in the last few days, and in the last week with the pipe bomb attacks upon political opponents of Mr. Trump.
Mr. Trump has made it his policy to vilify and dehumanize Hispanics, Muslims, nonwhites, calling them subhuman animals that are infesting our country like so many insects or rats. Make no mistake about it: This is the same kind of propaganda that is identical to the racist rants at Nazi Party rallies in Germany in the 1930s. Now Trump spews the same poisonous messages to his supporters and claims innocence when this inflammatory vitriol is sprayed over society. He claims innocence now that this political gasoline catches fire and people get hurt and killed.
I’m horrified by it. I’d love to say I was surprised, but I’m not. More shockingly, the Republican Congress has tolerated his vilification. Where have been their cries of outrage? They’re the so-called responsible people in our country, in positions of political leadership. Their silence has been deafening. I would say that this silence tends to legitimize the crazy conspiracy theories, the hate speech, the threats, the violent acts of the most noxious white nationalist elements of the American political spectrum.
Mr. Trump is even unashamed to tell us that among the chanting Nazis in Charlottesville, there were many fine people, drawing a false moral equivalency between those protesting against these kinds of actions and the Nazis themselves. Should we now be surprised that well-armed white nationalist bigots, isolated—isolated, friendless loners seeking validation for their empty lives, that they act out on their hate? I think not.
Now, Mr. Trump didn’t pull the trigger in the synagogue. He didn’t mail those bombs. But for the first time in 50 years, he’s made bigoted hate speech in America a legitimate tool of political manipulation. His endless barrage of excited hatred threats and lies has consequences, as we have seen. I regard Mr. Trump as a hopeless moral imbecile, indifferent to the deadly consequences of his inflammatory conduct.
But those politicians who know better still do not say much. They don’t stand up and loudly denounce his hate speech. They don’t denounce his lies. They’re hypocrites. They’re cowards. Their deafening silence condemns them more loudly than any courtroom ever could.
And so, what can we say? We have to take the actions that are most prudent, that are most—that are loudest, that are the most effective. That means getting out and voting. Vote your conscience.
On Sunday October 28th, my friend Erin and I went to see comedian Christopher Titus at the Helium club in Philadelphia. Our faces hurt from laughing so hard. The one take-home message I got was we need to come together. No real American can stand for this kind of hatred. This isn't us. We can agree to disagree... we cannot agree that it is okay to kill each other because we disagree. 

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Buggy


 My niece is going to be a ladybug for Halloween. My sister requested this specific hat. I had to make it a little bigger because the hat is for a newborn, but I think I was successful.
Before I sent the hat off in the mail, I decided I wanted a picture. The butternut squash was the perfect model.

I also have three swallowtail butterfly caterpillars. They love them some fennel!
 At first I had them in a jar, but with three of them and how quickly they were eating I doubted there was enough room in there.

So I cleaned up one of the bee packages and it is the perfect way to raise butterflies.  
 Air circulates easily through the cage and I can see everything. I have three more, one I will give to a coworker who has two sons, and the other two I will give to another coworker whose wife runs a day care. Caterpillars can be purchased online and it would be great for the kids to see how this works.

All three went into cocoons within a day or two of each other. But only one has emerged and that was last weekend. When I looked up to see how long it takes for them to turn into butterflies it says it could be a little as two weeks or several months. I hope the other two emerge soon or it will be too cold to release them, and then what?  It is supposed to warm up again this week, so hopefully that will push them along. They sure are amazing. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Lions, Whales, and Penguins, Oh my!


In August I splurged and bought a fantastic book: 
I already own the two previous books, Knit your own Cat and Knit your own Dog. I have since discovered that there is also Knit your own Farm! But as I have knitted nothing from the first two I think I should knit more from this latest investment before venturing forward. (Although I really want to knit the cow!) 

The first pattern I knitted was the Penguin. 
He was fun to knit. A little fussy, but He turned out fine - I think. 
The Lion? Oh boy - that was different. 
He's tricky. Not so much in the knitting but in assembling. It took me a whole day just to sew him up and stuff him right. That's other part they don't really talk about - how to stuff the animals. Where to add more stuffing etc. 

Here's Jacques babysitting both Lion and first Whale. Lion is not facing the camera as he doesn't have his face on yet. (I still had to embroider it!) 

The Whale pattern I purchased separately on Ravelry: 

 I've had my eye on this pattern for a while. $6 is expensive for a knitting pattern - I've paid less for a full sweater pattern! But since I kept thinking about this little guy I finally decided, well, he must be worth it! Above is my first Wasabi - he is about 5 inches long. I'm not sure I can give him up.

My second Wasabi is here:
and was knitted for little Miss Eleanor, a co worker's daughter. We had a baby shower on Monday for them and we were encouraged to bring our favorite, lesser known, children's books. I gave Hippopposites. But  I finally realized why I love this little whale, it reminds me of one of my favorite children's books: Burt Dow: Deep Water Man by Robert McClosky. I can't wait to make more - especially one each for my niece and nephew.

Friday, September 21, 2018

How I love Philadelphia...

My rain barrel arrived! 
That enormous blue monstrosity is 55 gallons of rain water storage! Free from the Philadelphia Water Department and the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society. All I had to do was attend a one hour "workshop." This was basically a presentation about how and why these two organizations have partnered to try to reduce the amount of storm water flowing into our extremely aging water infrastructure and what kinds of projects are available - heavily subsidized - to Philadelphia residents to help in the endeavor. The program is called Rain Check and you should definitely check it out! 


The program was amazing. Not only can one get a rain barrel, but there are many other projects we can invest in. Including this storm water tool:
 This is the one I think I'm going to add to my garden. It is the more economical alternative to the wooden box which does the same thing but costs $150 more, even if it is more handsome. If you click the link to the storm water tools, be sure to scroll down to the video which explains all that you receive - including the soil and plants! 
Other projects include: removal of cement back yards, "permeable pavers" for patios, and a rain garden. For rain gardens it must be at least 10 feet away from any basement. So if it is between two houses, neighbors can pool their rebates (up to $2000 each) into one project! 

Ever since I took the workshop in July I have been incredibly excited to receive my rain barrel. This is my former way of catching excess rain: 
             

A 5-gallon bucket to catch what runs off the roof. 


Well, the cats like the rain water better than tap water, so whaddyagonnado?

These are the kinds of programs, ventures, opportunities in Philadelphia that make me really truly love this city.

Next step? Painting the blue monstrosity! Stay tuned... I'm thinking ladybugs or snowflakes. Not sure which.


Monday, September 3, 2018

Happy Labor Day! Still catching up...


Fiber Fun Day! 
Our third annual Fiber Fun Day happened on the Sunday after I came back from California. For the last three years a few good art friends get together and we do a lot of tie-dying and all kinds of things. It is a day to experiment, have fun, gossip, eat, and have some nice cocktails. I found a new pattern on ravelry.com for weightless produce bags: https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/weightless-produce-bag They are fun to knit because they are so quick and they are perfect for purchasing produce. There will be a lot of people getting some of these for Christmas! I knitted four while I was in California for the express purpose of using them for Fiber Fun Day. I'm pretty happy with the result. 

Erin needed new pillow covers. 
Using Popsicle sticks, she folded the fabric for the above pillows. They look fabulous on her new futon!

I also bought some onesies for my niece that I wanted to dye. This was good planning because 1. She had already had a poop explosion on one and it was now, according to my sister, unwearable -  2. My sister was very unhappy because she loved these onesies, and 3. Jesmyn is outgrowing said onsies! 


I love these onesies too! So I had no problem making more. We used RIT clothing dye for most of our projects. Its reliable and easy to use. This year I found a lot of new colors at Joann's. It was super fun to experiment. 

The color on this one isn't showing well, it's a much more subtle gradient. A really gorgeous sunset. 

                         

The really fun onesie was this one. I wish I had made it for my nephew when he was little. It looked like a funny dinosaur when I was done unwinding all the ginko nuts. It still wasn't quite girly enough for me so I added the iron-on bees. Not sure it worked. 

                      

                    

But speaking of bees...

I found some amazing images at work. The Burpee Seed catalogue from 1885 is a treasure! The bee is from a different catalogue, but works quite well here I think. 

I picked up some white Tshirts for my nephew and dyed them to match the image. 

The giant bee: 

The American Grown Prizetaker Onion:

Peas:

The Small Sugar Pumpkin


The iron-on before:


Other iron-ons cut and ready.

I'm so thrilled with the results of all of these! My niece and nephew are going to be the coolest kids in school!