12:22 p.m. - 2005-08-21
plastered, but not with booze
We've been having some necessary stucco work done on the outside of our house. Stucco is an effective and resilient house exterior. It insulates the house in a way that no other exterior can, resulting in savings on one's energy bill. But stucco can also crack. This occurs naturally, with the settling of the house and the force of the elements, and the cracks are easily patched, preventing water from leaking into and rotting the wood frame. The real problem is when it BLOATS. That's when you need to get the stucco patched or replaced. Luckily, we only have two trouble spots, which we've hired local plasterers to fix.
We've had people recommend that we tear off all the old stucco and replace it with new stucco. This seemed to make sense, so we got an estimate.
Seventy thousand dollars was the estimate. Plaster work ain't cheap, Jim. We've had other people recommend that we Just Do It Ourselves, because it's only plaster and how hard can it be, the logical reply to which is HAH! Stucco has like a hundred layers and mesh on the inside and if you fuck it up you won't know it until your house collapses from water damage which it surely will because we don't know how to do stucco because no one knows how to do stucco except the six people on earth who do it full time. One of whom is working on our house.
Our plasterer and his assistant came over Friday and put up a little scaffolding and set to work ripping off the old, bad stucco. It was an unusual day for me, because I had to get up early and leave the house briefly, then I had most of the morning and afternoon free, then two gigs back to back in the evening. So I strove to conserve my energies during the day, which I found difficult with the stucco guys hanging around. They weren't intrusive or even particularly noisy, but I couldn't escape being aware that they were THERE. I always find it unsettling when there's someone right outside the house who could be monitoring your every movement, even though realistically they're doing their work and could give a fuck what I was doing even if they happened to notice. I think it stems from my ingrained fear that I may in fact be insane and that this would be immediately apparent to anyone who happened to observe me in a domestic setting, which observer would then feel compelled to alert the authorities and have me removed from society in the name of public health. It hasn't happened yet, but they're coming back Monday. If this blog suddenly goes dark, there's your explanation.
Meanwhile, preparations for the second installment of the Sockrates Sock Puppet Carnival of Morals and Logic are going well. To be performed on Wednesday at a bicycle-themed variety show, the puppet show will feature Boethius, as well as his ally Philosophy and nemesis Fortune. Also a giant bird who, for no good reason, swoops in and carries off Fortune. Kia does the voices of Philosophy and the bird, I do Boethius and shrill, hateful Fortune, with all her inconstancy. Kia makes great bird sounds, and I married well.
AND FINALLY, a cd update:
Our cd, the Seventh Schlemiel, got reviewed...favorably! By one of the critics for Isthmus here in Madison. He called it "inventive, varied and vivacious". It was nice to see, but now it's almost a week later and we're still not rich. Stupid Fortune.
