Dirty Jobs

People like to talk about the weather. I always thought that was weird when I lived in San Francisco because weather was a moot point – a constant – 65 degrees, give or take… just wear a jacket, a cardigan, and a t-shirt… and rotate throughout the day. It won’t rain often at all but consider what area of the city you’ll be in because the fog can chill you to the bone. Weather was an afterthought as were my clothing choices each day. My wardrobe was static throughout the year. Years were static throughout my time in San Francisco. Life floated on in a merry little bubble.

This bubble burst upon moving to New England. More accurately, we jumped right in the middle of a Soda Stream turned ON. Effervescent, tumultuous… not one, safe bubble but a million little sparkling bubbles popping around us. Time took on meaning. And, similarly, weather took on meaning – and violently shoved its way to center stage.

All of a sudden I was talking about the weather.

We somehow managed to move to Northampton just prior to the coldest winter on record in western Massachusetts and lived through it with a limping, bedraggled furnace. Now we find ourselves plunging headlong into the fires of summer. There was no spring. …I think it may have happened during the seven days we were out of town. But now it’s HOT. Like 88 degrees hot. Like summers in Illinois cornfields hot. Like Bangkok, Thailand at New Years hot. Like dance studio in Beijing hot. Like the reason I moved to San Francisco hot.

Yikes.

I wasn’t prepared for this either. Man this weather thing is crazy! Let’s talk about it!

Totally.

Ok.

Enough of the weather chit chat. How are you? We’re hanging in there on this end. The last few days have been intense. Somehow we’re managing to work even harder than before. We’re finally into the thick of the build out – where the ideas we spent months stewing over finally blossom into life. It challenges our minds in different ways and pushes our bodies to the max. Today we carried our claw foot bathtub upstairs (about 250 pounds). We did it. Just the 2 of us.

How?

One stair at a time.

A lot of other things happened today too but I’ll save those for a special post. 🙂

Today I’m going to share some of the more unusual things we’ve done over the past couple of months… dirty jobs but someone’s gotta do ’em!

Grease Interceptor (click on pics for the captions!):

Yes, totally gross. But also surprisingly photogenic!

Now, onto a (less gross) dirty job and our brief glimpse into its tangled bowels. The Scrap Yard:

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One comment

  1. Pingback: Buttoning Up “The Dish Pen” | eliza spelled backwards

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