Of twitchy little noses and rocks

Sometimes I'm too ambitious in my house projects for my own good.

Example one:

I ordered two cubic yards of Delaware River stone to create two rock beds in the backyard, upon which I will install planters and grow ... stuff.*

*It should be noted that Rich calls me the Lizzie Borden of botany.

This is just one of two rock beds, which we installed because grass simply doesn't grow very well in the one above, and for the other (example two) ...

... it's on the side of the house that does not get direct sunlight.

On Saturday, I did this one by myself. (Yes, I'm milking that one for all it's worth.) I spent Saturday night in a hot Epsom salt bath with a book and a glass of wine -- it did work, as I was actually in pretty good shape Sunday morning despite hauling more than a yard of rock to this corner of the backyard (ignore the rest of it -- still mulching).

Now, instead of mud, there is rock under the hose-keeper. (Or whatever those things are called.) But as I was pulling out the garden hose to water the backyard -- which I had just seeded -- a flash of fur crossed my vision.



Itteh bitteh bunneh!!

Unfortunately, bunnies are not good for lawns. They destroy gardens. They're basically extraordinarily cute rodents.

Extraordinarily cute rodents I can't bring myself to kill.

Well, where there's one ... so I took a glance to the left.

Brothers and sisters. And later, we found another by the garbage cans, so they're mobile and not that helpless anymore. This morning, they were all gone (hopefully not now under my shed).

At least now I can put down rabbit repellent without feeling guilty.

In any case, today, I hurt. A lot. For multiple reasons. My hands are killing me from all the shoveling, and I'm walking a bit like a 90-year-old woman. But at least they're done. Perhaps when I'm done whining, I'll take better pictures.

Absences

From one absence, hopefully another will spark some work around HoB.

Rich heads off this Saturday to sunnier climes, leaving me to my own devices. Without fail, this means I get more projects done around the house -- unimpeded am I to do as I wish, without someone underfoot/beside me/asking me to do laundry/wondering what's for dinner/telling me I'm doing it wrong.

I dearly love my husband, but how can you miss someone if they aren't gone?

So as Rich departs early Saturday morning, I'll begin the prep work for the yard. I've even been given "permission" to buy a new lawn mower -- with a bag. Leeza's loaner has been great and we're super-grateful, but with the new lawn down, I don't want to rake up fresh shoots once I'm done mowing.

And then I'll get my mulch delivery, and then I'll buy two trees for the front yard, and then I'll plant my "rock bed" on the side of the house and buy planters, and then, and then ...

OK, maybe I'll aim for mowing and planting the two trees this weekend. Mulching might not be a one-woman job, and the gravel will have to wait until Rich's return.

Also this weekend, I'll finish painting the ceiling in the bedroom (didn't do a hot job around where the fan will go). And then I'll put up pictures of the basement progress.

Yes, there has been progress on the basement. The hard part, she is done! There's more stripping-then-painting ahead, but it's mostly the floor, which is obviously easier than corners, walls, etc. Rich hates the runners I put down, but I love them. (He'll get over it.)

Maybe once we get HoB in spring shape, we'll get back to focusing on another project: ourselves. We've let too many weekends of pig roasts, Indian splurges, Thai extravaganzas, porters-'n'-stouts fests and the like get to our bellies, and it's time to get back into an exercise routine and put the kitchen back into better use for home cooking, which is always healthier. Despite the fact that our docs tell us we're pretty healthy, the weight additions can't be denied, and so: Rich will aim for a trimmer spare tire, and I'll aim to get my almost-Michelle-Obama arms back (or "wedding arms," as Rich calls them).

Ah, spring: renewals, hope and promises of change. I think mulch might be the only solid bet here.

Green, green grass of home

We have grass.

Just six days after we planted seed, we have little shoots popping up all over our lawn.

I keep telling myself that I need to calm down, we still have to stay vigilant, we have to watch it carefully ...

But grass! I'm so excited.

I'm probably the only person in New York (judging from my office*) who can't wait for more rain. The more moist our grass stays on a consistent basis, the better off we'll be.

I didn't get a chance to take more pictures after we seeded, put down Seed Aide and hay, and got to watering last weekend, but this weekend -- if it's not raining, but it's supposed to rain all weekend, yaaaaay! -- I'll try to get some pictures up.

One thing I've noticed is that the Seed Aide and hay really do work to keep the soil in place. In the little that it's rained in the past week, the soil at the corner of our new sidewalk did not shift (as it did in other places in the neighborhood where the soil hasn't been reseeded since the township's repaving project).

Also, it's fun to watch the neon-teal Seed Aide stuff grow like sea monkeys when you water it.

I'm a child that way.

As much as I want to do it now, mulching will wait until the spring so I'm not trampling over the new lawn too much. And I plan on putting down decorative gravel and stone in the backyard as well, and planting two new trees in the front.

The cost rundown
15.5 cubic yards of soil: $480
Tiller rental: $70 for first 24 hours
150 pounds of Seed Aide: $68.85
Three bales of hay (only used one, though): $44.85
Grass seed, sun/shade stress mix, 15 pounds: $25.95
Water roller rental: $20ish (Rich may have to correct me on that)

Estimate from landscaper to redo same area of lawn: $3,500-$6,000

DIYers do it right. (Well, if they do it right.)

*Once again, it's been a busy year -- most of you already know, but I started a new job about two months ago in Manhattan. I'm copyediting for a trade publication that follows the metal markets in North America; while that might sound boring, it's not. I learn so many new things on a daily basis, I can barely keep up. It's pretty damn cool, considering the three years of Woman's World we all endured. (I'm well aware I drove everyone nuts, but come on -- I have great stories to tell at cocktail parties!)

Blood, sweat, tears, dirt

Bich is tired.

Bich is so, so tired.

After two days, 15 yards of dirt (according to Amanda, that's 30,000 pounds), two wheelbarrows, multiple garden tools, one tiller, and endless amounts of "oh, shit, we will never get this done/yes, we will, we have to or we'll be those neighbors with dirt for a lawn and we already have drug dealers down the street," we managed to rip up a lawn and lay down an entirely new level of soil that is ready to be seeded.

Truly fantastic moment: As we're cleaning up, the older couple across the street -- he's usually seen outside with his banned cigar and a Mason jar full of bourbon, while his wife is cooking inside; they're pretty cool and full of great stories, and they watch the neighborhood like hawks -- pulls up on their way out of the neighborhood, and she says, "My husband hasn't stopped talking about all the work you've been doing for two days!"

He: "You've restored my faith in American women!"

She: "Everyone expects the man to do all this work, and you've been out here doing all this work, too!"

Rich, walking up: "What about me?!"

She: "Oh, yeah, you, too, but she's the wife! I should be cooking you two dinner! We've never seen anyone work so hard on their lawn in this neighborhood in all our years here and I've been here since 1942!"

He: "You've restored my faith in American women! Seriously! You're a lucky man!"

It's good to know the neighbors know Rich is fulfilling his manly duty, and I'm apparently doing womanhood proud.

Tired.

Afterward, we walked down the street to celebrate the end of our dirt-moving with a Blue Moon at Rug's and Riffy's, the local dive. I was especially dirty, having wrangled with the garden hose, a little water and the soil (we need a new hose now).

We walked in, sat down ... and I was promptly denied for not having my ID with me.

Sure, I suppose I should be happy, but let's be honest -- I don't look that young. Can't be mad at her; she's just doing her job.

But I really, really wanted that beer.

Anyway, so many neighbors stopped by or yelled over to say hi, tell a little joke about us digging through all that dirt, tell us to be patient ... I found it all very satisfying, despite the exhaustion. I almost forgot about the cold I've been fighting all week; maybe the dirt really does do a body good.

Rich took a little video:

Soil, grass and blisters

House of Bich is getting down and dirty this weekend.

By "down," I mean "Brooke and Rich can barely stand up, and even the tips of Brooke's fingers hurt typing this." And dirty ...

This is the second part of the delivery.

This is the third part of the delivery.

Fifteen and a half yards of dirt. 

Three bales of hay, 15 pounds of seed, three bags of Seed Aide await.

Tilled.

After receiving one estimate for upward of $6,000 to have the front and sides of the lawn torn up, replanted, mulched, etc., we decided to do it ourselves. I ordered 15 yards of soil from The Yard in Scotch Plains, and Rich and I set aside one full weekend -- this one -- to get to it.

Rich went to Home Depot this morning and rented a tiller, while I grabbed the chainsaw (yes, we own one) and took down a few small trees and bushes. And then we got to work.

Tilling.

Raking.

Shoveling.

Wheelbarrow-ing.

Dumping.

Leveling (sort of).

This is where you keep telling yourself that it'll look great in the spring, that doing it yourself will make you proud of your work, blah blah blah.

Yeah, probably. But I'm still hurting.

Tomorrow, we'll rake up the other half of the yard and put down the rest of the soil. The goal: to seed and put down the hay by sunset.

I hurt more already.

Weathering the storm

Damn you, Irene, you homewrecking bitch.

Don't get me wrong -- the House of Bich made it through the storm in relatively fine form, and we're quite lucky.

But Irene sent me back to square one on the Super-Secret Basement Project! that I'd managed to keep from Rich's eyes.

It's no longer secret (and -- confession -- it was only secret because I once again waited for Rich to leave town to engage the services of 1-800-GOT JUNK; I love those guys), and in fact, he had to see it at its worst and start the cleaning process.

However, Rich was quite happy that the Got Junk dudes took away the old refrigerator, old shelves, leftover pieces of cabinetry, and a lot of heavy junk items that had been just sitting down there gathering even more dust. 

Unfortunately, my dreams of getting the project done for $1,000 or less are now unreachable: We got four inches of water in the basement, though our stuff and our appliances made it out fine. (The shelves and plastic tubs I bought to organize what I kept did that job.)

We are also the new owners of a sump pump. And we have two friends' Shop-Vacs in our basement. We've done a lot of cleaning. I've done a lot of re-stripping already, thanks to the moisture that seeped in from a record-August's-worth of rain in the soil.

Here, video of the morning after:

And a few pictures from about six weeks ago, though I'd done more work before Irene:

Here was our street at about 8:30 a.m. on Sunday morning (boy, I'm so happy we took those trees out):

And the backyard:

 Yes, I managed to take the hanging plants down and save my hydrangeas:

More of the basement and what greeted me when I woke after a couple hours of sleep:

Almost-funny story: I went downstairs at about midnight during the storm and saw a few rivulets coming from under one of the windows, and a little water seeping through a crack in the wall. I could have cleaned it up with a few paper towels, but I got worried anyway and threw down some old dropcloths and a couple of towels. On Sunday morning, the dropcloths were floating.

My Wellies came in handy.

Just a few hours later, the waters from a river tributary behind our poor neighbors' houses -- the one directly across from us had been pumping since midnight -- had receded:

And come September, we'll be reseeding the lawn; I recently killed all the grass, weeds and crabgrass that had taken over.