Nearing completion...

I haven't always been a handyman...some of my biggest fights with my dad revolved around plywood and circular saws (think Kelly Clarkson...singing "Because of You" in a garage full of powertools!). But as I have said before...my thriftyness (I get this from my Grandmother) prevents me from hiring someone to do something I am quite sure I can do myself. And in the day and age of internet everything...you can basically find a how to for any project on the world-wide web.

The countertops I put in...were preformed and just required one cut to fit them into the kitchen. Tage and I did these cuts one afternoon, after Peggy had left the house (she doesn't like to be around for my manic renovation episodes...smart lady!). Although they only required one cut...I felt like a diamond cutter...sweat broke out on my brow and my hands trembled...one major mistake and I could ruin the economic and resourceful advantages of doing it myself.

Yesterday I tiled in a backsplash...may I boast? It is a work of art...really beautiful. If you had asked me ten years ago to tile anything...I would have suggested sticky-backed vinyl tiles. Grout, Portland Cement?...no way! See how things change!

You might be wondering how hard I am on my own son during construction...well....the truth be told we work well together...and "seldom is heard a discouraging word"...besides...he has better tools than me...so I have to keep him happy!

It is Saturday morning...and it is one of my favorite times of the week. I get up generally before anyone else (one true fact of aging...is that you are ruined for sleeping in...I would like to blame my kids...but truthfully I should blame my bladder...or the dog's bladder!).

Regardless, I put on some coffee (Kicking Horse, is the brand de-jour...so dark you could mistake the whole beans for dark chocolate), and read the local newspaper while Tage gets himself ready to for work. What I am waiting for though is the arrival of the Edmonton Journal. The Saturday journal is a bit of a legend in our home. During a dreary winter of unemployment, the Saturday journal held a bit of promise for me each week. It wasn't just the classifieds...it was the pages of larger "Career" ads that lit the light of hope in me. In fact it was one of those ads that got me a job in a woman's shelter!

So now I return to the Saturday paper, not because I need a job but because it is comforting...in the way that some people find oatmeal or macaroni and cheeese comforting. I just heard the screen door slam...the Journal is here!!!