Earlier this month, David got up an hour earlier than he previously did for school, got dressed, ate his pop-tart, watched a little TV, then grabbed his book bag to head off for the first day of school. But this year it's different: it was his first day as a Stallion at South County Secondary School.
I drove him to the bus stop, which is two blocks further away than his elementary school one (he's bigger now, can walk farther, I guess), and stuck around to watch him get on the bus for his first day at the only other school he'll go to.
When compared to the other "first day of school" memory, the time he went to kindergarten the first time, there were some notable differences, most significantly that as a parent I was expected to remain well out of sight while watching him get on the bus. He is decidedly getting to the age where that projection of independence is becoming important.
But there were marked similarities as well. As with the first day of kindergarten bus stop, he was definitely one of the smaller kids there, lost amid the sea of high-school seniors. And just as with the first day of kindergarten, once the bus arrived he clambered aboard with his backpack, without a single glance back at me: a boy ready to take on the world.
He seems so ready for this. He went to all of the various orientation events, so he had a working knowledge of the school layout, he knew his locker combination and had practiced getting into it, he had walked his schedule and knew where to go...so much about his first day of school telegraphed "I'm ready."
I don't think he's been awake that early since; the proto-teen enjoys his sleep too much and now is rolling out of bed with 10 or 15 minutes to go until I take him to the bus. He's gotten one progress report so far, and it's an A- in English (which for him is amazing)--his English teacher writes, "David is a delight in class [...] very kind and giving to the other students." He's been able to stay on top of the homework (as far as we can tell). From this early perspective, it looks like the transition is going well.
And I know, too, that it won't be long before the memory of him climbing aboard a school bus for each of his first days of school at a new school will be joined by the memory of him waving goodbye in the rear-view mirror as we drop him off for freshman orientation at college. It's difficult to think that that day is closer at hand (six years off) than was that first day of kindergarten. But for now, the next adventure has begun. It will be an adventure, too, I am sure.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Our $4,195 Dishwasher
Our dishwasher died this summer.
It had been in the house when we moved in six years ago, and I have no idea how old it was before then, but it looked like it had been around awhile. This summer it stopped draining; we had a plumber out to see if it was a problem with the drain line, because we were also worried about the kitchen sink not draining right. Nope, he said, the drain line's fine, it's just stopped working right. Oh, that'll be $95.
Sigh. So we began a ritual of handwashing dishes for the first time in years, and I got in trouble for not having bought the right brand of dish soap (Palmolive, apparently, rocks). We did the research, looked at options, and wound up going to Lowes in late July, where Mary picked out a nice new Bosch dishwasher. We bought the dishwasher ($640) and the installation-and-removal service ($100), and waited to be able to put away the inferior dish soap for good.
Came the day of installation, and Mary was home to welcome the plumber who dropped it off. He took one look at our old one and said, "Uh oh," and went to get a tape measure. He returned with the bad news: because of the way the previous owners had put down the wood floor in the kitchen (over top of the old one), there now wasn't enough clearance between the subfloor (that the dishwasher sits on) and the main floor to be able to pull out the old one, let alone get the new one to fit. He measured and, yes, the space under the counter was big enough, but the flooring was just blocking the way. His advice: we'd bought such a nice, long-lasting washer that we shouldn't return it, but we needed to (a) shim up the countertops all the way around, or (b) remove the wood flooring in front of it, so he could angle out the old dishwasher and get the new one in.
We discussed shimming up the countertops, which was perhaps the first choice as easier to do. But after talking with our contractor, Harry, we changed out minds. He pointed out that not only would there be plumbing challenges in raising the countertop, but our backsplash would possibly separate and/or tear the wallboard behind it. Uck. He gave us the name of a flooring guy; Harry's thought was we could pull out a patch of the hardwood floor, slide out-and-in the dishwashers, then replace the floor.
The floor guy came out Monday night for an estimate. Oh no no no. Our flooring is tongue-in-groove, and so once they start pulling it out, they can't put the same wood back in...they would need to use new wood, in which case it would really look like a patch there in front of the dishwasher and sink.
Now, Mary and I had talked before about maybe someday replacing the wood floor in the kitchen and breakfast room, which takes heavy traffic and looks it. So we looked at each other and then asked, Well, how much difference would it be between doing the patch and doing the whole floor?
The flooring guy made some measurements, did some calculator dancing, and came back with a figure of $3200 to do the entire kitchen and breakfast room. We looked at each other again, sighed, and said, Sure, let's do it.
So yesterday was the ear-splitting din of contractors ripping out our old flooring (and the mid-80s vinyl and plywood that was underneath it), and correctly installing new flooring in the kitchen and breakfast room. We arranged for the plumber to come back in the middle of the day to do the swapout, and so now we have our new dishwasher *and* a new floor to go along with it.
They say it's always something when you're a homeowner, and this just goes to show it for us. It's amazing how a $640 dishwasher became a $4,195 project, but it did. It's in, it works, the floors are gorgeous, and with the Bosch, it's our hope that we never have to pull it out of there someday. But if we do, we at least have the flooring installed correctly, which should mean we can do it without repeating this whole saga.
And now to replace the rest of the windows, the front door, and the backyard sliding door...
It had been in the house when we moved in six years ago, and I have no idea how old it was before then, but it looked like it had been around awhile. This summer it stopped draining; we had a plumber out to see if it was a problem with the drain line, because we were also worried about the kitchen sink not draining right. Nope, he said, the drain line's fine, it's just stopped working right. Oh, that'll be $95.
Sigh. So we began a ritual of handwashing dishes for the first time in years, and I got in trouble for not having bought the right brand of dish soap (Palmolive, apparently, rocks). We did the research, looked at options, and wound up going to Lowes in late July, where Mary picked out a nice new Bosch dishwasher. We bought the dishwasher ($640) and the installation-and-removal service ($100), and waited to be able to put away the inferior dish soap for good.
Came the day of installation, and Mary was home to welcome the plumber who dropped it off. He took one look at our old one and said, "Uh oh," and went to get a tape measure. He returned with the bad news: because of the way the previous owners had put down the wood floor in the kitchen (over top of the old one), there now wasn't enough clearance between the subfloor (that the dishwasher sits on) and the main floor to be able to pull out the old one, let alone get the new one to fit. He measured and, yes, the space under the counter was big enough, but the flooring was just blocking the way. His advice: we'd bought such a nice, long-lasting washer that we shouldn't return it, but we needed to (a) shim up the countertops all the way around, or (b) remove the wood flooring in front of it, so he could angle out the old dishwasher and get the new one in.
We discussed shimming up the countertops, which was perhaps the first choice as easier to do. But after talking with our contractor, Harry, we changed out minds. He pointed out that not only would there be plumbing challenges in raising the countertop, but our backsplash would possibly separate and/or tear the wallboard behind it. Uck. He gave us the name of a flooring guy; Harry's thought was we could pull out a patch of the hardwood floor, slide out-and-in the dishwashers, then replace the floor.
The floor guy came out Monday night for an estimate. Oh no no no. Our flooring is tongue-in-groove, and so once they start pulling it out, they can't put the same wood back in...they would need to use new wood, in which case it would really look like a patch there in front of the dishwasher and sink.
Now, Mary and I had talked before about maybe someday replacing the wood floor in the kitchen and breakfast room, which takes heavy traffic and looks it. So we looked at each other and then asked, Well, how much difference would it be between doing the patch and doing the whole floor?
The flooring guy made some measurements, did some calculator dancing, and came back with a figure of $3200 to do the entire kitchen and breakfast room. We looked at each other again, sighed, and said, Sure, let's do it.
So yesterday was the ear-splitting din of contractors ripping out our old flooring (and the mid-80s vinyl and plywood that was underneath it), and correctly installing new flooring in the kitchen and breakfast room. We arranged for the plumber to come back in the middle of the day to do the swapout, and so now we have our new dishwasher *and* a new floor to go along with it.
They say it's always something when you're a homeowner, and this just goes to show it for us. It's amazing how a $640 dishwasher became a $4,195 project, but it did. It's in, it works, the floors are gorgeous, and with the Bosch, it's our hope that we never have to pull it out of there someday. But if we do, we at least have the flooring installed correctly, which should mean we can do it without repeating this whole saga.
And now to replace the rest of the windows, the front door, and the backyard sliding door...
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Europe Trip: Tourists in Paris
Fortunately, our hotel in Paris was so much nicer. We stayed in Les Halles, and enjoyed Paris from the first moments. It's so much more familiar, at least to Mary and me, which helped make it a good way to end the trip.
Our first night we walked over to a neighborhood bistro and David had his steack-frites, Sarah had French onion soup (in July???) in a real Parisian cafe, and we began to settle into the city. Saturday morning, July 3, was the only time it really rained while we were there. We decided to walk over to the Louvre, which was just a few blocks west of our hotel. I was afraid the line would be long, given the weather (everyone would want to be inside), but no, it was reasonable. We saw several famous works of art, and began exploring the Egyptian section for David, when Sarah announced she was tired and wanted to go back to the hotel. Mary took her there, and David and I headed instead to Invalides, where Napoleon is buried.
On arriving, I explained the history of Invalides to David, and showed him that it's now the French army's national museum. He was thrilled with the chance to visit it, so we toured the WWI and WWII sections of the museum. Afterwards, we went to the basilica to see Napoleon's tomb. On walking out, we found that there was a wedding taking place in the chapel. I supposed to one of the guards that the bride or the groom had to work there in order to get married there. Nope, he said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign of "money."
That night we rode a bateau-mouche, the tour boats that take an hour's cruise along the Seine. We had a great chance to introduce the kids to the rest of the city and see the major landmarks that way. I even had the chance to pick out some glorious homes alongside the Seine that would make terrific retirement places...imagine walking out on your balcony and looking over the Seine every morning!
The next day, July 4, we celebrated America's birthday by touring the symbol of her oldest ally: on a cloudless sunny day we toured the Eiffel Tower, and spent more time there than I think in any of our previous visits. Sarah was *so* excited to tour the Tower, but first we had to wait in line for-freakin'-ever before we could take the elevators up. We ate lunch on top of the tower from the little fast-food place there, and enjoyed the view before heading to the middle level. We walked around there, and walked down the stairs to the first level, taking our time and exploring it all. I didn't remember seeing half of what we saw this one visit. Late in the afternoon we finished, and walked over to a cafe near the Ecole Militaire to recharge. A beautiful day of memories.
Our final day in Paris, we went to Notre Dame and the kids were suitably impressed, even awed, by the Rose window and the beauty of the place. David and I scaled the steps to the towers, and even got to do something new: I never remember being able to go inside the South bell tower before, and see the ancient timbers holding up the massive bell of the cathedral.
After Notre Dame we had our final bistro lunch in Paris and headed to the Arc de Triomphe. The insane traffic around the circle was notable even to the kids, who haven't even had their first driving lessons yet. One last meal in Paris that night, then home the next morning out of Charles de Gaulle.
We truly had a terrific vacation. We all learned a lot about the Klepping(er) family history that we would not have had a chance to experience just stateside. The kids were awesome foreign travelers (once we figured out the food situation), and to listen to David, well, you can tell he learned a lot about Europe while we were there.
People who know I didn't study German ask if we had any problems over there. I have to say, the Germans were universally welcoming and accommodating to my pathetic efforts to speak their language, helping in English almost everywhere. Would I go back to Germany? Oh yes. But I still feel more at home in Paris. Who knows when our next foreign trip will be, but at least for 2010, the kids have something special to remember.
Our first night we walked over to a neighborhood bistro and David had his steack-frites, Sarah had French onion soup (in July???) in a real Parisian cafe, and we began to settle into the city. Saturday morning, July 3, was the only time it really rained while we were there. We decided to walk over to the Louvre, which was just a few blocks west of our hotel. I was afraid the line would be long, given the weather (everyone would want to be inside), but no, it was reasonable. We saw several famous works of art, and began exploring the Egyptian section for David, when Sarah announced she was tired and wanted to go back to the hotel. Mary took her there, and David and I headed instead to Invalides, where Napoleon is buried.
On arriving, I explained the history of Invalides to David, and showed him that it's now the French army's national museum. He was thrilled with the chance to visit it, so we toured the WWI and WWII sections of the museum. Afterwards, we went to the basilica to see Napoleon's tomb. On walking out, we found that there was a wedding taking place in the chapel. I supposed to one of the guards that the bride or the groom had to work there in order to get married there. Nope, he said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign of "money."
That night we rode a bateau-mouche, the tour boats that take an hour's cruise along the Seine. We had a great chance to introduce the kids to the rest of the city and see the major landmarks that way. I even had the chance to pick out some glorious homes alongside the Seine that would make terrific retirement places...imagine walking out on your balcony and looking over the Seine every morning!
The next day, July 4, we celebrated America's birthday by touring the symbol of her oldest ally: on a cloudless sunny day we toured the Eiffel Tower, and spent more time there than I think in any of our previous visits. Sarah was *so* excited to tour the Tower, but first we had to wait in line for-freakin'-ever before we could take the elevators up. We ate lunch on top of the tower from the little fast-food place there, and enjoyed the view before heading to the middle level. We walked around there, and walked down the stairs to the first level, taking our time and exploring it all. I didn't remember seeing half of what we saw this one visit. Late in the afternoon we finished, and walked over to a cafe near the Ecole Militaire to recharge. A beautiful day of memories.
Our final day in Paris, we went to Notre Dame and the kids were suitably impressed, even awed, by the Rose window and the beauty of the place. David and I scaled the steps to the towers, and even got to do something new: I never remember being able to go inside the South bell tower before, and see the ancient timbers holding up the massive bell of the cathedral.
After Notre Dame we had our final bistro lunch in Paris and headed to the Arc de Triomphe. The insane traffic around the circle was notable even to the kids, who haven't even had their first driving lessons yet. One last meal in Paris that night, then home the next morning out of Charles de Gaulle.
* * * * *
People who know I didn't study German ask if we had any problems over there. I have to say, the Germans were universally welcoming and accommodating to my pathetic efforts to speak their language, helping in English almost everywhere. Would I go back to Germany? Oh yes. But I still feel more at home in Paris. Who knows when our next foreign trip will be, but at least for 2010, the kids have something special to remember.
Europe Trip: Tourists in Germany (Part II)
Thursday, July 1, was the longest day of our trip, and the kids handled it like champion travellers.
We awoke in Gunzburg, and when the gates of Legoland Deutschland opened at 10, we were there. The kids had a terrific time in the park. It's a small park; there's really only one roller coaster to speak of, and David certainly has ridden more terrifying ones. But we had a great time exploring: I loved seeing the mini-Europe scenes, all made from Legos. I remembered being a kid, playing with Legos, and hearing of a magical place in Denmark where they had this park filled with miniature replicas of famous places in Lego. To see it in person was terrific.
We rode the rides, we splashed in the water rides, we saw the Lego safari (all the animals made of...well, you know), we ate lunch in the restaurant (one of the few places where I just pointed blindly at the menu and said, "I have no idea what this is, but bring it to me anyway."), we shopped in the store...and by 2:00 we were done with what we wanted to do in Legoland.
We hopped in the car and drove southwesterly towards Neuschwanstein, the fairy-tale castle of King Luwig II of Bavaria in the 1860s. Coming upon the Alps was tremendous: they just rise, almost vertically, without warning, on the horizon. We made our way to the tiny town at the base of the castle, and bought our tickets in the mid-late afternoon.
To get to the castle, you can walk uphill for 45 minutes, or take a horse-drawn carriage, or take a bus. Mary, ever the romantic, wanted to take the horse-drawn carriage, so we did. The horse puffed us up to the top of his route, at which time we were told to climb that path over there, uphill, about another 10 minutes. (On the way back, Mary said, enough of the climbing, let's take the bus...so we followed the trail to the separate bus stop, which turned out to be--you guessed it--uphill as well.)
Neuschwanstein is enormously tall, and suitably imposing when you arrive. But inside, it's largely unfinished, so we could only tour certain rooms--fortunately, the glamorous throne room and king's apartments were part of it. The throne room was just ridonculous: gold leaf everywhere, mosaics, marble...so over-the-top as to make Versailles look almost reasonable by comparison. But the castle sits on this absolute precipice: to the south the rock walls just fall away, hundreds of feet, to the river below in the chasm. It's truly amazing to think how it got built in the first place.
We stayed and toured longer than I had anticipated, so it was late by the time we got back down the mountain, and later still by the time we made it to Munich for our last night in Germany. I returned the car just at 9:00, then we got McDonalds at the train station across the street from our hotel. I am amazed at the amount of mayonnaise the Germans think a Big Mac needs. The kids found the ketchup to be not quite right, too.
Our hotel that night was easily the worst of the entire trip. The 1st Creatif Hotel Elephant got chosen for its location, so we could drop the car off, then walk easily to the train station for our train to Paris in the morning. Little did we realize the room was tiny, and it had no a/c on a hot summer's evening. We had to leave the window open, which of course meant all the urban street sounds crashing into our room. None of us got any sleep that night, so we were really ready for our train the next morning. Paris, here we come!
We awoke in Gunzburg, and when the gates of Legoland Deutschland opened at 10, we were there. The kids had a terrific time in the park. It's a small park; there's really only one roller coaster to speak of, and David certainly has ridden more terrifying ones. But we had a great time exploring: I loved seeing the mini-Europe scenes, all made from Legos. I remembered being a kid, playing with Legos, and hearing of a magical place in Denmark where they had this park filled with miniature replicas of famous places in Lego. To see it in person was terrific.
We rode the rides, we splashed in the water rides, we saw the Lego safari (all the animals made of...well, you know), we ate lunch in the restaurant (one of the few places where I just pointed blindly at the menu and said, "I have no idea what this is, but bring it to me anyway."), we shopped in the store...and by 2:00 we were done with what we wanted to do in Legoland.
We hopped in the car and drove southwesterly towards Neuschwanstein, the fairy-tale castle of King Luwig II of Bavaria in the 1860s. Coming upon the Alps was tremendous: they just rise, almost vertically, without warning, on the horizon. We made our way to the tiny town at the base of the castle, and bought our tickets in the mid-late afternoon.
To get to the castle, you can walk uphill for 45 minutes, or take a horse-drawn carriage, or take a bus. Mary, ever the romantic, wanted to take the horse-drawn carriage, so we did. The horse puffed us up to the top of his route, at which time we were told to climb that path over there, uphill, about another 10 minutes. (On the way back, Mary said, enough of the climbing, let's take the bus...so we followed the trail to the separate bus stop, which turned out to be--you guessed it--uphill as well.)
Neuschwanstein is enormously tall, and suitably imposing when you arrive. But inside, it's largely unfinished, so we could only tour certain rooms--fortunately, the glamorous throne room and king's apartments were part of it. The throne room was just ridonculous: gold leaf everywhere, mosaics, marble...so over-the-top as to make Versailles look almost reasonable by comparison. But the castle sits on this absolute precipice: to the south the rock walls just fall away, hundreds of feet, to the river below in the chasm. It's truly amazing to think how it got built in the first place.
We stayed and toured longer than I had anticipated, so it was late by the time we got back down the mountain, and later still by the time we made it to Munich for our last night in Germany. I returned the car just at 9:00, then we got McDonalds at the train station across the street from our hotel. I am amazed at the amount of mayonnaise the Germans think a Big Mac needs. The kids found the ketchup to be not quite right, too.
Our hotel that night was easily the worst of the entire trip. The 1st Creatif Hotel Elephant got chosen for its location, so we could drop the car off, then walk easily to the train station for our train to Paris in the morning. Little did we realize the room was tiny, and it had no a/c on a hot summer's evening. We had to leave the window open, which of course meant all the urban street sounds crashing into our room. None of us got any sleep that night, so we were really ready for our train the next morning. Paris, here we come!
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