The House Rules

How to make Croutons (In this weather*?)

2011-07-15T11:30:00.000-04:00

The House Rules, as you well know if you’ve read any of the rest of the posts, covers a vast array of topics. I often worry that the focus of the blog is too widely spread over home repair, architecture snobbery, political and religious musings, and recipes for your new favorite cocktails. I’ve been told so much by well meaning friends. To you folks, I apologize. But I love to write about all of the above and can’t be tethered by rules when so much of the rest of my life is mired in “what I’m supposed to do.” I write because it pleasures me (No, not like that.) and hopefully the wide range of topics will find their intended audience.

I’m not sure who that intended audience is, but if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll leave a comment telling us about yourself and why you enjoy it. Unless of course you are already a personal friend or relative, in which case, please make up an identity and tell me how wonderful I am just to boost my ego.

Anyways, housing is obviously about so much more than the bricks and sticks that we turn into a building. It covers so many things, not least among them, food. Here at our house, I love a good meal, and it must always include a protein, a starch, and two vegetables.

I’ve had some discussion with other family members on this and it’s a weird phobia several of us have of too few things on the plate at dinner time. Even if I make a killer stir fry using all of the above, I still have to round it out with two side dishes, minimum, and preferably at least one condiment or sauce. I’m not sure where this comes from, but I assume it has something to do with a father who grew up in an orphanage and was constantly begging for more gruel.

Now we have a decent budget for food between my wife and I, as my rapidly growing paunch can testify. But if we’re ever going to afford to replace the windows, replace the sidewalk, or pay our mortgage on time, we have to resort to cost cutting measures.

To that end, we make croutons.

If done correctly, croutons are more than a salad or soup topper. We eat homemade croutons as snacks on the couch whilst discussing the fate of the revolution or watching One Tree Hill. (I don’t ACTUALLY watch One Tree Hill so much as roll my eyes in derision towards the horrible plotting and dialogue. Which isn’t to say I can’t enjoy a good teen soap opera… Buffy the Vampire Slayer is probably the best show of all time.)

To make truly good, pop ‘em like mood stabilizers, croutons, you need nothing other than butter, oil, salt & pepper, spices if you like, and copious amounts of bread odds & ends. Every time we have a left over knob of stale Italian bread, Naan from a dinner party, old hot dog buns, English muffins, or the heel of the sandwich bread no one wants, it gets tossed into a bag in the freezer. When the bag is close to bursting, I pull it out to make croutons. They last for a long time once prepared, so producing in volume is the key to time effectiveness.

Croutons:

Odds and Ends of Bread, approx 1 – 1 ½ pounds

1 cup of butter (2 sticks), melted*

Salt and Pepper

Diced Herbs, Spices, Garlic, etc. as desired.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.

For this round I’m using up all the extra hot dog and hamburger buns from the last family picnic. This is the ONLY boon to stupid bread vendors selling their buns in packs of 8 while they sell hot dogs in packs of 5 or 10.

Dice up all your bread components to an equal “cooking” size. If this is your first go at croutons, either cook identical bread types together or cut moister breads to a smaller size than your dry and flat breads. I like a 5/8” dice, but you may want something less anal. Use your own judgement.

Melt butter in the microwave or stovetop. *If you’re “health” inclined, you can halve the butter in the recipe and use ¼ cup of olive oil instead of the second stick of butter. For the love all that is good and holy, don’t use any of these tubs of substitute butter products made from some combination of oil, vegetable bits, and whale semen. Despite what “nutrition experts” might tell you, that crap just isn’t natural and I’m confident that in 10 years it will be linked to CP (Cerebral Palsy), SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), and AWD (Acute Whininess Disorder).

In a large bowl, toss bread and melted butter. We at The House Rules like to use our hands for this step which can lead to some third degree burns. It’s a small price to pay for the joy of croutons.

Spread the bread bits on a flat cookie sheet in a single layer. You’ll have to use multiple sheets for a pound and a half of bread.

Salt and Pepper to taste. This is also the opportunity to try some different herbs and spices that you may wish to add for additional specificity of flavor. For this round, I made a chili chive crouton with a ½ tsp of onion powder, 1 tbs of ancho chili powder, and 1 tbs of garlic chives.

Put in the oven and bake, flipping once or twice until no sponginess remains and they are crispy crunchy crack-like goodness. I usually assume about 30 minutes, but time will vary based on the bread makeup.

Pull out of the oven and allow to cool before putting in Ziploc bags for future (or immediate) enjoyment.

*I wrote this post a while ago. The Mrs. would very definitely advise you against trying to make croutons when its 95 degrees out such as now. She can tell you that it makes a lot of heat in the summer. Of course, she knows this because when I wrote this post, it was also 95 degrees out, so much consumption of icy alcoholic beverages was a necessary conjunctive activity. Do as you wish.

Comma Workshop Quilts

2011-07-14T11:30:00.002-04:00

So this is going to be my first post using Windows Live as my new blog post editor. I got so unbelievably tired of the format of blogging directly in Blogger (Y’all are part of Google, damn it. If anyone should have the resources to make a good user interface, you should be all over that.)
So don’t be alarmed if things are a bit wonky whilst I work out the kinks.
Speaking of other things that are firsts, my friend Kerry wrote me for the first time in a long time. She was in Architecture school with me and has an excellent eye for modern design, interwoven with a passion for vernacular and craft and time-honored traditions of yore. I really respect so much how she’s been able to coalesce these ideas, especially in a way that is innovative when it is somewhat of a trend right now.
Her newest venture is a design studio that she runs out of Colorado called comma workshop.
They handcraft really beautiful quilt designs that feature cursive text in modern graphic ways all over the field of quilting. Now, my mom always loved quilts, especially of the Amish variety, but these definitely aren’t your mother’s quilt.
Personally I always thought quilts were weird and tacky unless they had some sentimental connection. (You know, like they’re made entirely from your Great Grandfather’s used and discarded underwear… Wait, that’s still weird. Really weird. Just threw up a little in my mouth.) But these are pieces of art and distinctly modern ones that marry a warmth of sentiment and words and history while making total sense in a downtown loft.
This just makes me incredibly envious of Kerry’s talent. In fact, I should probably end this post before I start swearing at her online. I wonder if Windows Live has a “search for regrettable comments” feature near the spell check. I should look into that.

Refinishing- How to strip off old paint

2011-07-13T11:45:00.000-04:00

Continuing in the current trend on this blog of pushing everybody’s race buttons as a means to celebrate the 4^th of July, the Mrs and I started a project on the 3^rd and continued on the 4^th that set out to obliterate the self image of a young African American girl in our neighborhood.

No, not really. Well, kinda, but we didn’t do anything wrong.

We did, several months ago, find a dresser piece abandoned on the side of the road in our neighborhood. We took a quick look, and discovering it to be mostly solid wood, decided to take it home for refinishing.

What made it unique is that a woman we can only assume is named Deidre Hicks, based on the label inside, had decoupaged the entire surface of the thing with cutouts of African-American women from fashion magazines. But Miss Deidre obviously no longer wanted to hold on to it, so we don’t feel particularly bad about scraping it all off. Not that it wasn’t beautiful in its own personally significant way, but I’m not sure how we’d design a room around it.

Anyways, the biggest hurdle in the refinishing process is getting the old stuff off.

First, remove all the hardware. There’s no reason to make the job harder for yourself by having to work around tiny pieces.

Second, remove all the doors and drawers. Again, the more you can eliminate the joints and crevasses where paint is inclined to be un-removable, the better. Its easier to put it back together than to dig out all those tiny bits.

Third, apply a coat of chemical stripper with a paintbrush. In our experience, the best practice here is to only tackle two 2’x2’ areas at a time. Apply stripper to the first area and then let it sit while applying it to the second. Go back to the first and it should be ready for the first scraping. It'll get all bubbly like a toxic apple pie when it's ready.

Sidenote: I’m not a fan of safety but I can agree that rubber gloves are helpful here for the average user. There’s a slight burn if you get it on your skin. I would recommend the thin medical rubber gloves though. You are going to be applying in small doses and doing a lot of scraping, so cumbersome dishwashing type rubber gloves get in the way. None of the pictures shown illustrate the usage of rubber gloves because I'm really macho... when I'm doing a refinishing/decorating project.

Fourth, using a plastic or metal scraper, apply pressure to the bubbly mass of paint. One long continuous motion is usually the best to get the whole way down to the wood, or as far as you can get in one stripping. If the paint on the piece is especially soft, you may find that you can simply wipe it off with a rag. Good on you. It definitely keeps you from gouging the wood with a scraper, which you otherwise should wield with caution.

Fifth, repeat as necessary. Then repeat again. And again. And again. Until you get to this:

LOOK! Pretty solid oak. Well, mostly solid.

In our case, we’re still debating what kind of finish we’d like this to have. The more transparent finish you desire, the more paint you’ll need to get off of the bare wood. Clear coats and transparent stains really require you to have every last speck of paint off, while fully opaque latex really only require that you create a smooth substrate for the new coat.

We’re leaning toward a semi-transparent stain, possibly in white or a colorful hue, which will still allow the wood grain to show through. Although as I do the research, I might be interested in trying out some combination of milk paint and chalkboard paint. Check out these shots:

Photo via Design Sponge

Photo via Casasugar

Clayhaus Ceramics

2011-07-12T15:22:00.000-04:00

I want to live in a house where this would make sense.

Unfortunately, our house is not mid-century modern. But someone out there has got to find a place for this tile in their house. It's from Clayhaus Ceramics and like most cool tile, I'm sure it's hella expensive.

The thing with stuff that I should be able to afford but can't is that it brings out my intense stealing temptation. It's like there's a little dude whispering in my ear, "See that cool wooden carved entablature on the porch of that antique store for $230 dollars?"

I respond, "Yeah, sigh. It's really cool."

Little dude whispers conspiratorially, "It could be yours for only $80."

"Huh? How does that work?", I question.

Dude smugly replies, "That's the cost of the counseling session you'll need if you actually go through with stealing it... and let's be frank, you're really only seconds away from doing that whether I'm here or not."

Total depravity, kids. That's why I believe in it. Even though I'm well off enough to save for stupid things I really don't need, I am almost constantly overcome with the urge to steal them instead. My wife knows about this. When we pass a landscaping/garden center with all those delectable shrubs and perrenials just sitting there unguarded at twilight, she usually whispers, "Eyes Front. Pay attention to the Road." Stupid moral code.

Rednecks or Urban Sophisticates... Who's more Racist?

2011-07-11T16:22:00.000-04:00

Going to a high school graduation can bring up so many sentimental memories, even for the most jaded and snarky of bloggers. I attended Abington High School’s class of 2011 graduation a few weeks ago for my eldest nephew. Seeing that bunch of kids move on from high school to college, and the requisite sappy speeches by valedictorians and salutatorians, reminded me of the lessons I learned in high school and how they prepared me for the big bad world.

As I mentioned in a previous post, one thing I’m extremely happy about is the diversity in my hometown and in the high school from which I graduated.

Living in the city, especially in Philadelphia where racial tensions seem to infuse every conversation, every election, every poop scooping* with unnecessary meaning, I feel it necessary to temper my blog with a comment on where I grew up.

Oxford, Pennsylvania and the neighboring town on Nottingham where I actually lived are about an hour and a half south of Philadelphia. Rolling green hills, the wafting aroma of manure and Herr’s potato chips, and the jangle of Amish horse and buggies rolling down the shoulder of the interstate all paint a picture in the mind of Norman Rockwell, Wonderbread, and Country Time lemonade, I’m sure. But the other two things we had in Oxford were Lincoln University, the oldest black university in the country, and a booming mushroom growing business which brought a substantial number of agricultural workers, mostly Hispanic, to our town to stay.

As a result, my high school was surprisingly diverse for a redneck farm town. And for many reasons, many of the normal race/class associations that might happen in other small towns didn’t happen there. If you were poor, you were just as likely to be white or black or Hispanic. If you were wealthy or popular or smart, you were just as likely to be white or black or Hispanic. I’m not saying it was the perfect Gap advertisement or anything. There were still issues, no doubt. But coming from that environment, I never felt like it mattered that much what color one was. And that even applied to races that we didn’t have in attendance. I had no clue that there was anything bad to be said about Asians, Jews, Indians, or Eskimos.

But then I went to college. One of my first friends at Syracuse University, was a young woman named Melissa. As winter break approached, she mentioned the ski trip her family was taking and I innocently asked, “Oh, is that your Christmas tradition?” She replied, and I paraphrase, “Hello? Curly hair? Big Nose? Last Name, Silverman? We don’t celebrate Christmas, you insensitive adolescent prick.” While you can debate whether I should ever be allowed to mention the “C-Word” in casual conversation, what was so surprising to me was that she actually expected me to know all the markers of being Jewish-American. As if I had been sat down in pre-school with a bunch of felt board characters and played “Spot the Jew”.

The same kind of experiences followed me to Penn State and now to Philadelphia. We live in Mt. Airy which is widely considered one of the most integrated neighborhoods in the country. Not the most diverse**, as other Philadelphia neighborhoods have more equal distribution between races asseen in the latest Census, but the most integrated. I don’t know how they quantify such a thing, but from the neighborhoods my wife and I have lived in, we can testify that there seems to be far less racial tension here than in any other place we’ve been in the city.

But the assumption of racism still applies. People assume that because I am Caucasian, I mean horrible racist things when I complain about loud neighbors, turn up my nose at grungy taquerias with litter all over the corners, cross the street to avoid dudes walking pittbulls with weights chained to their collars, or refuse to stop saying Merry “C-Word” to other dogwalkers in the woods. I don’t mean horrible racist things. I do mean that I don’t like what you’re doing and I think it is bad for society and you should stop. I don’t care what culture you came from and whether it’s the norm.

Which isn’t to say that I don’t struggle with racism. I think anyone who says they don’t, no matter what walk of life they come from, is pretending. I have to check myself and my actions to see what part of my heart is motivating them. I think, in fact, that moving to the city, despite “the value of racial diversity” has actually made me more inclined towards inaccurate judgments based on race. But that’s the benefit of integration in our neighborhood, rather than diversity. It breaks down the normative race/class associations and actually allows us all to judge actions rather than color.

So, all this is to say that I don’t apologize for my attitude in my blog. I won’t pussyfoot around your oversensitivity and assumptions of my racism. That fact that I’m ignorant of all the crap I’m putting out there is exactly what we ought to all aspire to.

*The poop scooping incident refers to the time that the mean old lady down at the end of our block belligerently yelled at the Mrs. for “allowing our dog to poop in the strip of grass between her sidewalk and curb”. My wife patiently and quietly protested multiple times that we in fact haven’t walked our dog that way in months and furthermore, on the off chance he did poop there months ago, we always carry plastic bags for pickup. Madame Crustacean replied, “Well, my friend said it was white people let their dogs do that. You white?” When I do my yearly climb onto the roof to sweep the acorns off the roofs of everyone on the block, I admit that I don’t do hers. Partly because she was mean to my wife. Partly because anyone that nasty is likely to sue me or call the cops on me for doing her a favor.

**I have this debate online with Mt Airy message board posters all the time about the difference between Diversity and Integration. People don’t think it makes a difference, but as long as diversity, not integration is your end goal, your perpetrating racism by evaluating success based on color alone.

Dental Hygiene Tips

2011-07-06T10:41:00.001-04:00

I'm not much of one for dental care. I despise it.

This mostly comes from my father repeatedly telling me the story of how, at 25 years old, his dentist told him he had horrible teeth and would lose them all by the time he was 30. But he was super-committed and vigilant and would not have that gummy destiny forced upon him by some jerk with a supposed "medical degree". So he brushed 7 times a day, flossed by the hour, bought every new waterpik technology as soon as it emerged on the market, and used mouthwash like other people use gin. I swear he kept a flask in his back pocket and the aroma of minty freshness clung to him like cheap cologne on a Jersey Shore dude.

So, being a contrary soul, even to the point of stupidity, I refuse to do more than brush my teeth two or three times a day. I never go to the dentist if I can help it.

But there was a brief period about 5 years ago where I decided to reform my ways and get my teeth checked out. Being low on cash, especially with impending nuptials approaching, I began attending the University of Pennsylvania Dental Clinic. It is run for the education of the dental students and the care is... reflective of that.

Anyways, I could go through the litany of dental students who reviewed my teeth with pimply faced excitement, recommending more complex procedures to carve, cut and clean each time, but that would take years of explanation.

My final procedure there took place when I received the recommendation of a graduating senior to have a gum retraction. I won't gross you out with the grizzly details, but it involved showing up for a surgery where they would cut the roof of my mouth open while I was awake and graft some pig bone to my jawline. No joke.

I replied that there was no way I could afford it, even at the clinic's reduced rates, as I was getting married in a few months and was saving for the honeymoon. Neema, my "dentist" thought for a moment and then replied, "Ok, well, I'll give it to you as a wedding present. You just have to let me photograph the procedure for my thesis project." We had tried putting something similar on our wedding registry at Bed Bath and Your Mom but were stymied by the comparative shipping costs, so I took him up on his offer.

Sufficed to say, it was an experience. In a particularly shady abandoned cubicle farm in a basement of an unfindable academic building, Neema and his two assistants prepped me for surgery. So, to do the math, that's six hands working on my mouth. But was it enough? No, Neema stops at one point and says, "Dave, I can't really get a good photo with one hand. Would you mind holding your own gum retractors?" I obliged, only to begin cracking up at the ridonkulousness of my situation, chortling with laughter, high as a kite on pain killers.

This may be part of the reason why my stitches started coming out later that night. Still doped up beyond sanity, the tickling in the back of my throat drove me to madness. I proceeded to find some scissors and a butter knife to cut the offending strands out myself. Fortunately, my long suffering fiancee (now the Mrs) and her two roommates thought this unwise. None of them particularly medically inclined nor happy about icky stuff, they jumped me. While my wife pinned me down by sitting on my chest, her sister held the flashlight, and her roommate reached in and cut my stitches for me. I could only assume that she has had some similar experiences growing up in Uganda and handled herself with aplomb.

All this is to say, if you can avoid such an experience through proper dental maintenance and if you're less rigidly contrary than I, it is well worth your effort. That's why this cool set of a year's worth of toothbrushes from Anthropologie, while silly, still grabbed my eye and deserved a blog post:

They're marked with the three month time limit for which you're supposed to use them prior to discarding. If like me, you're inclined to keep a toothbrush until it is no longer useful for anything but grout cleaning, this could be beneficial.

Porch Design Tips

2011-07-05T15:39:00.000-04:00

It’s been about a month since I posted last. In my defense, I was struggling with how to write the promised post that focused scathing reviews of the horrible things people do when putting a front porch** on their house.

Wait, that’s a lie. Okay, honesty time… I’ve been drafted into a secretive government group that monitors cultural trends and reports back to our superiors so they can enact more legislation that takes the fun out of life.

Wait, still a lie… I was far too busy at my boring Architecture job.

Nope, not quite there yet… it was hot out and that makes me lazy and cranky.

There we go. And it really makes me wonder how we’d ever move to the beautiful south where the front porch is a staple of humid weather living. I mean, I’d never use mine because I’d be sequestered and naked in an ice filled bathtub in a womb-like air conditioned environment. Just to protect the world from my crankiness induced fury.

But for most people, the porch is a necessity in the hot summer. But friends, necessity should never trump taste. If you can’t figure out how to make a porch on your house which is architecturally pleasing, you shouldn’t be allowed to have one.

That’s where I come in. As a self declared arbiter of taste and style, I would be happy to give a no holds barred, crotchety review of your existing porch or porch plans. Just upload a pic in the comments or send me a link and I’ll rip you a new one.

Doesn’t sound appealing? Okay, here’s a review of some horrible things you should NOT do, courtesy of the nameless residents of Beaufort, SC and a few others. To be fair, there were far more beautiful examples of what you should do, and we’ll touch on those at the bottom.

Not Proportional to the House

Your porch should be proportional to the house, not the front door. If its only serving the purpose of keeping people dry whilst they ring the bell, you’ve wasted an opportunity. Especially if your house is as ugly as this one in which we stayed.

Not Structurally Proportional

Your porch should LOOK structurally proportional. This pink monstrosity appears to be supported by toothpick posts which I almost sawed off in the middle of the night just to teach them a lesson. Additionally, there’s no sense of hierarchy. Either the two outermost posts or the two posts that frame the entry should have been larger. Of course, that would have led to some weird balance and symmetry issues on this famous inn, but I can’t comment on all the things wrong here. This deserves a full razing of the building anyways.

Column Style not conducive to residential Style

The scale and proportion and order of your columns especially speak to the importance of your building. This is the JohnMark Verdier house and museum. And it seems to imply that Jesus lives here. I can accept that Verdier was some kind of local historic figure, so I’ll give him a pass.

On a related note, unless you're the President of the United States, you never have the right to have double height columns on your ordinary abode. (Double height columns being the ones that support a two story porch with no intermediate balcony.

NEVER.

Never Double Height Columns

There's no compromising on this one folks. If your house has double height columns like the one above in our neighborhood in Philadelphia, stop reading. Go outside. Saw, chew, or burn them off now. This is a massive monstrous FAIL.

Unnecessary Columns

Admittedly, sometimes people are poor. We feel bad for them and but for the grace of God would be in the same boat. But while I can support many social reform initiatives and even some softening of judgmentalism based on cultural factors, it doesn’t take more money to have good taste. In this case, less would have been more. Take out those center two most columns, moron. They don’t match, they serve no structural purpose, and they’re proportionally stupid in their placement.

Unnecessary Everything...

But more commonly, it’s too much money that goes with bad taste. A porch is still a porch and if you dump so much detailing into the front of your house as to be ostentatious or gaudy, you deserve to be taxed incessantly to teach you a lesson about not being a moron. This example from Savannah, is just fugly . And oddly enough, it is sexy, but in a hooker-y kind of way.

But lest you think I’m all diatribe and no love, here’s a few examples of some graceful, practical, and understated porches to which you can aspire when planning your next project.

**Lastly, it should be noted to the extremely sensitive, that yes, I am a white man. But once again, I have discovered by going to urban dictionary that I was more ignorant of the extent of racism/classism attached to the idea of a porch than one might expect. I grew up in a surprisingly diverse farm town and I guess no one ever sat me down and taught me all the racist jokes or ways to identify people I’m supposed to hate. So, if you’re about to spout off in the comments, do yourself a favor, and consider whether being someone who bitches about people’s dumb choices regardless of their race or economic status isn’t the goal we should all aspire to anyways.

Collaboration

2011-06-14T12:04:00.002-04:00

Collaboration.

One hears about it in business and creative contexts all the time. Two entities working toward a common goal. Sounds pretty positive, right? It is always portrayed as such. Look at the opening paragraph (as of 6/14/11 at Noon) from wikipedia, the most collaborative of sources, on this most buzzy of words:

Collaboration is working together to achieve a goal, but in its negative sense it is working as a traitor.^[1] It is a recursive^[2] process where two or more people or organizations work together to realize shared goals, (this is more than the intersection of common goals seen in co-operative ventures, but a deep, collective, determination to reach an identical objective) — for example, an intriguing endeavor^[3]^[4] that is creative in nature^[5]—by sharing knowledge, learning and building consensus. Most collaboration requires leadership, although the form of leadership can be social within a decentralized and egalitarian group.^[6] In particular, teams that work collaboratively can obtain greater resources, recognition and reward when facing competition for finite resources.^[7] Collaboration is also present in opposing goals exhibiting the notion of adversarial collaboration, though this is not a common case for using the word.

Wow, sounds like the solution to all the world's problems, right?

It's unfortunate that we never discuss the downsides of collaboration.

I've been thinking a lot recently about some career goals and the major distinctions in my mind between writing as an endeavor and a host of other things that also tempt as possible career options: (Architecture, Event Planning, Experiential Branding/Marketing.)

One thing that stands out is that writing , by its nature, does not HAVE to be collaborative. The written or spoken word is something I can manipulate by myself. I can craft a sentence, I can create a theme, I can prove a point, solely by the work of my own hands and mind, if I choose. All those other disciplines, and the vast majority of careers out there require the collaboration between boards, vendors, managers, installers, etc.

The first big problem with these ventures is that in working together, one can easily lose efficiency. If you're a rapid producer, a multi-tasker, and a quick thinker, collaboration often means slowing down for the rest of the group. Now, sometimes, obviously this can lead to more careful reflection and critical thought, but it often just leads to not getting---things---done, while consensus is reached via arduous discussions. Especially if one knows how to do the task at hand, deliberation between members of a group can be the albatross around your neck.

The second, less recognized problem, is that when collaborative thought becomes a goal, it has the danger of being an end unto itself, and not serving the product, but rather the participants. Good ideas do not necessarily come from a multitude of sources. Sometimes a good idea crafted by one person is just the best idea. But the goal of collaborative thought can't leave that good idea alone. It has to make sure all voices are represented in that idea and may contaminate it with other lesser notions for the sake of inclusivity. Any number of projects I've worked on have been lessened by the layering of other personalities' opinions onto the final product, solely for the sake of nurturing egos. I'm even including the unnecessary injection of my own ideas, which aren't always the best ones in the room.

All this is not to say that collaboration is inherently worse than going it alone. But in our society, it's worth reminding ourselves that sometimes the Marlboro Man is OK, working out there on the range. He's got his task and can get it done without intervention from the masses. And this is coming from an extrovert who both likes to be around people as much as humanly possible and works well with others when necessary. But most of the time, I would prefer if you gave me a task and let me go about my day. I'll get a lot more done without anyone else in the room.

Considering Fences

2011-06-10T10:56:00.000-04:00

The fence could be the perfect emblem of American ideas about property. Theoretically, one can tell so much about a property owner and their view of the world with this one little architectural statement. Do they believe they "own" the land? How do they feel about outsiders? Do they believe they have a responsibility to the public? How do they feel about beauty?

At a fundamental level, a fence is a wall. A wall can keep things out, a wall can keep things in. A wall can define space. A wall can create privacy. A wall can protect you against the elements. A wall can just be a piece of art, a beautiful thing to look at.

A wall can be all of those things in varying degrees.

Thinking about fences the same way, every fence we see should theoretically be different. But more often than not, the fence is just something you pick up at the Home Despot, for the bottom dollar price. Everyone has the same five designs all over the country. There are minor variations, sure, but witness:

The Split Rail:

The Wrought Iron

(or makeshift aluminum version thereof):

The Picket:

The Stockade:

The Chain Link:

I really like to judge people by the fence they put up. And most people FAIL.

Because there are such beautiful, distinctive opportunities out there... We could do so much more with this little piece of wall that is the first thing you see when you approach the home. Why do we rely on the cheap crap that the marketing department at the big box stores decide is the least common denominator... most likely to sell the highest number of consumers? As price tags go, upping your fence from the mundane above to the unique elements below isn't that costly. It's just a matter of design.

Image Courtesy Production Fenceworks

But this whole post was really inspired by an email I received from Cape Cod Fabrications, a metal shop in, you guessed it, Massachusetts. These are a couple of the images from their site that inspired my rage, because this is what the American home should look like:

Image Courtesy: Cape Cod Fabrications

That last one is my favorite. The tube steel members are each separately embedded in the ground (I assume). But look at how something can be so "strong" and so transparent at the same time. Ok, admittedly, that's going to be a pricey one. But ultimately, shouldn't this be more important than the ginormous master bathroom that you spent $75,000 on?

Its a place where you take a dump for goodness' sake!

Priorities, man.

Another Heat Wave Cocktail

2011-06-09T08:56:00.002-04:00

The first day of summer is still June 21^st right? The Wiccans didn’t go and change the summer solstice on us, right? Has the earth tilted off its normal axis and nobody noticed? Did someone delicately dislodge Pennsylvania from the contiguous states and we’re currently floating toward Bermuda? Was Al Gore just telling us the truth?

Let me clarify… Philadelphia is now experiencing the second heat wave of 2011. IN THE SPRING. It’s only the beginning of June and I’ve resorted to three cold showers a night. It’s supposed to be 98 degrees today.

I thought the Mint Julep would get me through this abominable meteorological insane anomaly. But I was simply wrong. Crushed ice simply wasn’t enough. I had to resort to… dare I say it… frozen blender drinks.

But I draw the line at FROOFY frozen blender drinks. Nothing tart and sickeningly sweet, nay, I need something thirst quenching. Something refreshing. Something that's still a teensy bit manly. Something with an undercurrent of… bourbon.

Bourbon in a frozen drink? “Preposterous!”, the masses cried. “Sacrilege!” exclaimed the orthodoxy. “Heretic…” said the city’s bartenders under their breath.

Well, throwing convention to the wind, I tested and tested until I landed upon the perfect mix. It should be noted that I tested quite a few and skipped dinner last night to bring you this late breaking news, so if my judgment is impaired, you’ll have to let me know after doing a trying one yourself.

Long Day on the Tanker

2 cups crushed ice

3 oz bourbon

2 oz triple sec

3 mint leaves
5 oz of Pink Grapefruit Juice

By the by, we only uses pink grapefruit juice from our local semi-ghetto, semi-awesome, produce mart. Apparantly it's imported from Russia.

Stick it all straight in the blender and hit Puree/Food Processor/Chop/Mix. Whatever your blender does.

Pour into a tall glass and drink… but not too fast.

The House Rules has already endured 6 discrete brain freezes to bring you this concoction.

But you may be thinking, “Long Day on the Tanker?” Does the author have a history on the high seas of which we’re not aware?

No, the name is in honor of my sister, of whom this drink reminds me. She spent many a young summer working on the oil tankers docked after delivering a load of crude to Sunoco.

A late teen/young adult girl working on a oil tanker? “Preposterous!”, the masses cried. “Sacrilege!” exclaimed the orthodoxy. “Heretic…” said the roughnecks under their breath.

Exactly. She’s beautiful and boisterous. Masterful and muliebrous. Confident and… coquettish. Wait, she’s totally NOT coquettish, but she’ll get a kick out of that when she reads this.

She’s the one I turn to when I need a simultaneous kick in the ass AND a nurturing condolence.

(Hmmm... in retrospect, it should also be noted that the multiple "Long Day on the Tankers" I've had tonight are probably making me more sentimental than I am in real life.)

So, “Long Day on the Tanker” it is. But you can call it a “Long Day” if that’s too much of a mouthful for you.

RowHouse Magazine and Blog

2011-06-08T11:07:00.001-04:00

They say that opposites attract. I would tend to agree when it comes to romantic partners, sparring partners, and covalent bonds between atoms.

But when you're talking about other bloggers, like minds attract. There's not the same competition as in the business world and the folks out there are generally really excited to trade information and cross link. Building a network of bloggers that touch on the same subjects just makes it easier for readers to find the info or opinions they're looking for as well.

So I was very excited to find RowHouse Magazine and their associated blog. Operating out of Philly but covering topics all over the East Coast, the folks at RowHouse have some great content. Check em out...

Row House focuses almost exclusively on the issues revolving around row home living, which is all about compact space and community living. When the Mrs and I read some of the various home and garden rags, we often scoff at such descriptors as:

"Muffy and Reginald needed to downsize as their 2.5 children moved off to college at Vanderbilt, Cranbrook, and Arcadia respectively. So they scoured the market until they found this 3500 SF home on 1.5 acres of land. It was a serious compromise to their spatial needs and the feng shui principles that affect the wellbeing of their cat named Mr. Giles, so the couple hired Fifi St. Lorraine to help with the interior decorating of their broom closet."*

If you're not scoffing, please stop reading now and go look at Architectural Digest.

The Mrs and I are SWIMMING in our 1600 SF row home on 1/16th of an acre. Even with our 65 lb dog, weekly parties, and room for itinerant guests for months at a time. 3500 SF, a crunch? Please. We can't even keep half of our house clean. The last thing I would want is MORE space.

Rowhouse features a lot of great photos and ideas for living "small". Check some out below.

All photos credit: Row House Magazine

*Not an actual quote. But seriously, if you needed that footnote, you probably need to also stop reading the rest of this blog and head over to Architectural Digest. They've got a feature on Elizabeth Taylor's house, postmortem, which is weird on many levels. If you head over there and see vomit on the screen, that's mine.

Sheet Straps for the Sleep Talkin' Man

2011-06-07T09:40:00.000-04:00

I've recently discovered the blog, Sleep Talkin' Man which is among my new favorites. In the morning, the Mrs and I have a brief moment to sit down while she finishes her breakfast and I sip my coffee and we log in to discover what Adam, the Sleep Talkin' Man said last night in his sleep.

This morning's gem?

"Put those finger-toes away. Put them away! Freak of f***ing nature. Ugh. Finger-toes, don't you pick things up with them! Ew. That's just not right. You start using them like hands, I'll chop your f***ing arms off. Then you'll be stuck with them. That'll teach ya ."

You can listen to the audio of that particular beauty here.

It also frequently reminds my wife of the things I said in my sleep the previous night. Now, we haven't taken to recording them, but according to her, I'm often as colorful although probably not with the sheer volume and lucidity with which Adam seems to speak. Last night apparantly I declared:

"Nobody puts Baby in a Corner"

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Let me start by making it perfectly clear that I am no fan of "Dirty Dancing". I had to watch it once for... I can't believe I'm saying this... a ballroom dancing class that I took in college. Embarrassing: Both the movie and the admission of what I took to fill a athletics requirement at PSU more than 10 years ago. The one upside is that I know how to Meringue, Foxtrot, Waltz, Swing, Rumba, and Tango which has served me well at really odd times in my life.

(Like when my entire family went on an abominable cruise last year and in a drunken craze decided to take over the Latin club on the Lido deck at 1 AM. Of the whitest dancers ever to grace the "Criterion Lounge" dancefloor, at least I knew enough steps to look marginally matched with my wife who is steeped in Latin culture.)

So why I would quote "Dirty Dancing" on this particular evening is a mystery.

But every since I started on a new round of prescription mood altering drugs, I've been talking even more animatedly in my sleep. Tossing and turning, shouting, sitting up in bed, thrashing through the covers at the foot of the bed for unseen assailants, unwanted swinger parties, dogs, and bees. (Seriously, I'm not exaggerating about any of those.) My wife is blessed by God with deafness in one ear, so she can just sleep with her good ear down in the pillow to ignore me. If that's not an indicator that we were meant to be together, I don't know what is.

But lots of people struggle with this. At a recent dinner party, we broached the subject and discovered of the 5 couples there, 4 had an identical situation. A loud animated sleep talker married to a long suffering spouse.

One of the MANY disadvantages of a sleep talker, is that in their animated thrashing and spinning and tossing and turning, they often pull the fitted sheet off the bed. Which is a self perpetuating cycle, because then, caught up in the elastic binding and trapped between the mattress and fitted sheet, their dreams turn to being tortured as a CIA member, being buried alive, being forced to wear an ascot, whatever. And the trashing gets even more spastic.

Plus, it makes it harder to have a pretty bed every morning.

So, for those of you who fall in the 4 out of 10 Americans with vivid dreams and corresponding night calisthenics, go invest in some of these:

They work. And your bedmate will thank you. Adam, the Sleep Talkin' Man, if you happen to stumble across my blog, I would suggest you DON'T buy these. We at The House Rules don't want anything to interfere with the natural progress of your dreams and the bòn móts they produce.

Fire Pit in Philadelphia

2011-06-03T12:11:00.001-04:00

Before we even fixed up the patio out front, my first thought was FIRE PIT!

Of course, no one wants an outdoor fire pit in the heat wave we just experienced, but the weather seems to have abated. So when I stumbled upon this post at The Hardware Aisle, I was smitten.

Landmann makes a lot of great outdoor fire and grill equipment. But the Ball O' Fire really sets my heart aflutter. Originally $340.18, its currently on sale at Amazon.com for $192.04 with free shipping.

Seriously, a BALL OF FIRE. Seriously.

Nice Opening Mechanism

User painted with Rustoleum Copper Finish

Goodness Gracious. That's epic. So very epic.

And for those of you curious, or for my neighbors who are all "Oh, Hell NO, he can't have a firepit on our oak tree lined block of 75 year old wooden row homes.", I submit the following quote from the Philadelphia fire code.

F-307.4.3 Portable outdoor fireplaces. Portable outdoor fireplaces shall be used in accordance with the manufacturer’s instructions and shall not be operated within 15 feet (3048 mm) of a structure or combustible material. Outdoor fireplaces shall be constructed of a noncombustible material that is completely enclosed by solid or mesh material. The maximum openings of the mesh material shall not exceed 1 inch (25. 4 mm) measured diagonally.

[Exception: Portable outdoor fireplaces used at one- and two-family dwellings.]

I don't even have to keep it 15 feet or 3048 mm from my house! I can put it 3047 mm from the house. I can jamb that great Ball O' Fire right up to the property line and party wall between my house and yours. Don't push me! I'll risk burning down both of our houses and even the rest of the block just to prove I CAN. I grew up on a farm, B*****s! We start forest fires for fun (and agricultural, landscaping, and environmental purposes). But that's not the point, it's still fun! You ever strapped a tank of kerosene on your back and stood in the middle of a brush fire, spraying fuel like you're peeing grain alcohol, just to show that flame who's boss?!? Huh? Have you? I didn't think so.*

*Dear wife... as you read this, please keep in mind that I'm just talking smack. I won't put it on the property line. I'll keep it as far from the house as the patio allows. I'll keep a fire extinguisher on hand at all times. Heck, I'll even wear a flame retardant suit during the colder months if I'm allowed to have this. Please?!?!?

House Obsession

2011-06-03T09:00:00.000-04:00

House Obsession has moved. I really dig the blog and want everyone else to as well. Here's the new locale:

http://www.houseobsession.com/

I've updated my link on the home page. One day, I promise to get my own fancy domain name too...

Stinkbug Eradication Techniques II

2011-06-02T17:00:00.001-04:00

Stinkbugs!

They're still in the news and they're still all over our houses. The House Rules post on Stink Bug Eradication Techniques has been, by leaps and bounds, the most popular post in our brief history. But a number of readers who come to the site looking for helpful information on eradicating these nuisances are always quite perturbed when no offer is given. The comments full of vitriol are enough to make you wonder why a stinkbug would WANT to hang out in these folks' houses. (I guess its somewhat understandable given that it is the third or fourth hit on google when searching "Stinkbug Eradication" or "Stinkbug Extermination". Popularity does not necessarily equal intellectual content, folks. In fact, there is usually a reverse corollary. Alas, popularity comes with a price.)

But now, I think I finally have a real eradication technique for the big whiners out there. Personally, I thought the idea to eat them was highly effective, but it did lack a simple harvesting method, which the following video also covers...

You can also see the same trap here on WJAC TV out of western PA. This is of course big news in Johnstown.

http://www.wjactv.com/video/28028425/index.html

Meanwhile we're dealing with this crap in Philly...

Teen Stabbed Twice In LOVE Park: MyFoxPHILLY.com

I briefly thought this might make Johnstown look pretty damn good right about now. But then I realized I'd rather die by homeless stabbing than boredom. So I'll stick around here for a bit longer.

Verge Garden- Part 6- Progress Report

2011-06-02T10:00:00.000-04:00

The Verge Garden has largely turned out to be all that I thought it would be*. When the Mrs and I step out of the Subaru Outback (cause you can't live in our neighborhood and NOT drive a Subaru Outback), we tred upon the fresh herbs and the wafting aromas of chamomile, thyme, pennroyal, and oregano harken us back to the days of yore. Seriously, I think that little bit of aromatherapy helps with the hangover.

Here's how it looks today:

If you're considering recreating such a garden at your locale, I can especially highly recommend three plants in the garden which have performed exceedingly well.

The Pennroyal, shown above, grows like gangbusters and smells like mint when you crush it. It has a nice low growing habit. It is very dense as well, which makes it resistant to weed infiltration.

The Mazus Reptans, shown in the center above, is also a really fast spreader. We're past the blooming stage, but it has a nice delicate white flower. No smell, but it is also very dense. It truly looks like this in full bloom.

The Lawn Chamomile, on the corners above, is incredibly dense, like Kentucky Blue Grass. A great smell when walked on. It doesn't flower, or not much, according to sources, but looks like this when it does.

Overall a success. *Although the neighbors, despite my assurances to the contrary, are afraid to step on the plants. But I guess that's just a way of reserving the parking spot in front of our house without resorting to orange plastic cones like those trashy South Philadelphians.

Mint Julep

2011-06-01T20:13:00.001-04:00

"It's Hot as Crazy People Outside". This is what my wife and I have said to eachother in the past and are saying to eachother every five minutes during the current heatwave that is hitting the east coast. 95 degrees at 7:00 PM on the first day of June. That is not kosher.

We started using this phrase when we lived downtown and noticed the marked increase in people talking to themselves in the park every time the heat became oppressive. We assumed that they were homeless people with mental issues (aka Crazytown). In retrospect, they may have been people on bluetooth headsets. Doesn't really matter, I regard them equally as nuts.

(If you are a mental health professional or social worker or other liberally minded person reading this blog and taking offense to the above paragraph, let me point out two facts. First, you should read the full content of the blog before commenting with righteous indignation. You'll probably find that there's a whole mess o' fish to fry in the offensive non-politically correct category. Do you really want to jump into that? Second, since I've started taking anti-anxiety meds, I am among the many with mental health issues. So I fall under the clause of "Insert Racial/Sexual Pref/Class/Whatever Descriptor Here calling other insert same descriptor here people insert offensive descriptor here" clause. You can't touch that without being offensive yourself. Sup.)

The irony, as my wife will tell you, is that nothing makes me crazier... and I mean scratch your own eyes out with a meat fork because you think it'll somehow help... than hot weather.

Anyways, we don't have air conditioning in the house, so the only solution, as to many of life's problems, is a good stiff drink. If you pick the right one, it can not only help you forget that you're ball-tastically sweaty, but can actually help cool you down at the same time.

Enter the Mint Julep.

Long known by sweet smart sultry southerners, they are the only thing getting me through this evening.

Here's the dig:

Mint Julep
12-14 mint leaves
1 heaping teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon water
Crushed Ice
2 1/2 oz Bourbon
Splash of Creme de Menthe*
Mint Sprig for Garnish

In an old fashioned glass, muddle the mint leaves, sugar and water until a fine mush is formed.

Fill with crushed ice. Only crushed ice will do here. Use an ice crusher, a blender, a meat tenderizer, a masonry hammer, or your Grandma's china gravy boat. It doesn't matter, just get that ice crushed, and don't dally.

Add bourbon. The House Rules can only afford copious quantities of Old Crow, but if you've got something better, by all means, fill er up. *Now this one is somewhat sacrilegious, but add a splash of Creme de Menthe. There's something so refreshing about Creme de Menthe in small quantities that no amount of extra mint and sugar can provide. Stir.

Top off with the rest of crushed ice and a sprig of mint.

Sip on the porch in front of fan, alternating with long draws on a cigar and y'all can make it. I hope.**

**As of the time of posting, the author is on number two, but hopes that by number three the ball-tastically oppressive heat will be undetectable.

Living the Good Life Instead

2011-06-01T15:53:00.001-04:00

Not that blogging isn't tremendous fun. But its been a while since we've posted here at the House Rules. Mostly due to our vacation time away from the computer. We're almost inclined not to tell our readers the name of the location because it was so epically perfect and we don't want the secret to get out. But, alas, we're givers. We cannot help ourselves.

We spent a little more than a week traveling down south to Beaufort, South Carolina. Beaufort, (Bee-you-fort), South Carolina as opposed to Beaufort (Bow-fort), North Carolina. Located about halfway between Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA on the coast, Beaufort is the perfect mix of town & country, history & modern culture, wildlife & nightlife.

We'll have more for you shortly. Including a post filled with judgey judgey thoughts about Southern front porches (What NOT to do, mostly). But for now, we wanted to explain our absence. Once you go on a vacation this awesome, its hard to get out of this mode:

ADAPT Modular Shelving

2011-04-28T09:00:00.000-04:00

Why place your furniture based on the irregular shape of your room?

When instead, you could alter your furniture to fit the irregular shape of your room?

Check out ADAPT Modular Shelving

Again, I cite this as the reason that we accept designers being douchey. (Not necessarily this guy, but just the general population including me, as a rule.) Douchey people that bring us cool stuff like this are allowed to continue in their douchitude.

I mean, you could accomplish this with a jigsaw and some 2x4's and some 3/4" shelving. But that assumes that you're handy, then you couldn't take it with you to the next apartment.

Dreaming of a Renovation?

2011-04-27T11:17:00.000-04:00

As an architect, the sad news I often have to give to clients involves money. No one likes to think about how much things will cost when they're dreaming of new renovation to their home, but its an unfortunate reality.

But most homeowner's don't have a realistic measure of what things will cost when they are dreaming away, and that makes the sticker shock of contractor's price all the more painful. Especially when it comes to what Architects call "MEP" work. Mechanical, Electrical, and Plumbing... it's the stuff that makes your house WORK, but its behind the walls or cabinets or in the basement so it doesn't get much attention in the dreaming phase.

To that end, here's a brief synopsis of where your dollars will go when it comes to the real MEP nuts and bolts of a renovation.

In order of costs, high to low...

P is for Plumbing-

Moving plumbing fixtures, anything that requires water, hot and/or cold, and waste lines (where the water goes once you've mixed it with the dirty stuff) is probably the most expensive. This is for several reasons: Pipes are rigid and have to be connected at specific angles and pitches, so the work of getting them through a wall, floor, or tight space is tricky. Plumbers are one of the highest per hour laborers, and justifiably so, because even the most experienced has to deal with a good bit of trial and error on connections.

Plumbing fixtures themselves are expensive, and copper and cast iron aren't exactly cheap metals for pipe. More and more municipalities are allowing PVC piping for various purposes, and some are even allowing flexible piping such as PEX.

Another thing to consider here is that waste lines are significantly bigger, harder to move, and more prone to problems with age. And of the big wet plumbing fixtures, your toilet and your shower or tub are going to be the most costly to move because the wasteline has to go straight through the floor, so you're often having to rip out flooring or the ceiling below.

M is for Mechanical-

Mechanical, which pretty much covers everything that delivers heat and cooling to your home can vary widely based on the system you're working with and the space that you've got to work with. If your heating system is supplied with hot water or steam, such as to radiators or radiant flooring, you're veering more toward the plumbing end of things and running into the same issues as above. If your heating system is with electricity such as electric baseboard heating or electric radiant flooring systems, you veer towards the Electric costs below.

But a lot of people have forced air systems, which can supply both heating and cooling in one package, delivered through ductwork. Ducts are BIG honkin things, and getting them through all the cavities and walls to the location you need presents many of the same challenges as plumbing. However, ductwork is easier to work with and you can often use flexible ductwork when you get near the end of a "run". (A "run" is the path from the heating/cooling unit, most likely in your basement, to the actual diffuser or grill that pushes the air into the room).

E is for Electric-

Wires are tiny. And they're easily cut and spliced together. With the exception of some appliances that need a lot of electricity, such as a refrigerator, or a microwave, (anything that makes things hot or cold, generally) a new supply outlet can often just be connected to an existing without going the whole way to your panel in the basement. Electricity is pretty easy to work with, even for the DIY home renovator, with some precautions.

We would caution though that the costs skyrocket when you get to moving the panels or breakers that are the first electrical items that distribute power from the municipality power lines coming into your home. Don't move them if you don't have to. (And don't do it yourself, most likely.)

In-Wall Sink- COVET!!!!

2011-04-25T12:01:00.002-04:00

Oh, if we were only redoing our tiny tiny tiny basement bathroom now... we had an offer of a medicine cabinet this weekend, and then I just stumbled on this thing online today:

According to the ReStore blog, (a Philadelphia architectural salvage clearinghouse store), it was made by Angelo Colonna of Philadelphia. I can't find any more info on him or the sink online, but how sweet is that? And they're selling it for only $300.

I don't know if it works or what the limitations are, but somebody who's doing a bathroom, (or wetbar) renovation needs to get over to ReStore ASAP and scoop this puppy up. To pull this thing out of the wall whilst making a dirty martini would elevate the drink's status to Franklin Mortgage and Investment Company heights, even if you were using six month old vermouth and Banker's club Gin.

Plus, ReStore accommodated my friends' band and let them shoot their video there. The song/video is by Turning Violet Violet. And the cinemetography was shot by our bud Murphy who's going to be our new roommate for a month before he moves out to Colorado with his family.

(He doesn't have a full time gig out there yet, so if we have any readers from the Rocky Mountain State who are in need of some kick ass video work, let us know...) And hell, you all could buy the sink too. Shipping and Handling not included.

Earthtainer- What I would do if I had Sunlight

2011-04-25T09:30:00.000-04:00

I read this article on Friday from Slate which outlined the author's experience with the Earthtainer III.

Sure, it sounds like a horrible sequel to an already middling movie combining Eco-friendly principles with high adventure and adrenaline packed action*. But no, its just a tomato growing system that anyone can use.

But best of all, its not for sale.

Ray Newstead, the quintessential full frontal nerdity champion, who is an executive for some semiconductor company, figured out how to build the ultimate self watering tomato pot out of basic Rubbermaid storage tubs and readily available hardware. He even spent years testing his own specially mixed growing medium for perfect tomatoes.

Ray Newstead

And he put the instructions for how he did it online. For free.

Here you go:

The Earthtainer III

I don't have enough sunlight anywhere in my yard to try this. But one of you readers must. I want to hear how it goes.

*AKA, The Day After Tommorow

Earth Day and Good Friday

2011-04-22T14:44:00.000-04:00

A brief link to this article from Philly.com talking about the popularity of the reusable bag on Earth Day.

The best quote?:

Not every reusable bag is environmentally equal. A nonwoven polypropylene bag, for example, would have to be used just 11 times to make up for the negative effects of a plastic bag used one time, according to a British Environment Agency study that compared bags. A cotton bag, however, would have to be used 131 times.

Why would a cotton bag have to be used so much? Because the energy that goes into its production is significantly higher... check this article from Daily Mail and the quote:

Using a thin plastic bag - made from a plastic called high-density polyethylene (HDPE) - equates to generating 1.57kg of carbon dioxide, the greenhouse gas that scientist believe leads to global warming according to the report. A cotton bag would have to be re-used 171 times to emit the same level of CO2.
Cotton bags typically made in China have a greater environmental impact because of the water and fertiliser required in their production, as well as their transportation and greater weight.

As with most things marketed to us for sale as "Green", its actually a load of crap. Buy less, consume less.

Also, Earth Day shouldn't be allowed to overlap with Good Friday. Jesus totally loved his creation, but that's just putting the cart before the horse.

Verge Garden- Part 6: Planting

2011-04-21T17:00:00.001-04:00

I'm not going to bore you with the details of how to plant things. If you came to this blog looking for that, you're bound to be sorely disappointed. Instead, I'll just show you the more or less finished product with a breakdownof what went into each bed. Here's the planted Garden:

Each portion has a perennial ground cover in the center surrounded by four perennial herbs that will release a pleasing aroma when stepped upon. As previously mentioned in yesterday's post, the garden beds resemble a cat burial ground more than anything else. Hopefully the "burial" mounds will settle in time and look a little less like a Stephen King plot device.

Mazus Reptans Alba surrounded by Nutmeg Thyme.

Antennaria Dioica surrounded by Pennyroyal

Mazus Reptans Alba surrounded by Lawn Chamomile

Sedum Spurium Red Carpet surrounded by Roman Chamomile

Sedum Spurium Tricolor Surrounded by Orange Zest Thyme and Mother of Thyme


Veronica Repens surrounded by Creeping Oregano.

Verge Garden- Part 5: Planting Beds

2011-04-20T17:00:00.001-04:00

Now that all the plants were purchased, the Verge Garden strip could finally be built. I decided to go with the more thoughtful and considerate option B plan. No Poison Ivy and half the work and cost.

The first step was to scrape off the top layer of sod. This was incredibly easy and I just piled it all into my large tupperware bin thing that I use for transporting dirt in our Subaru. (Sigh...yearning for the days of having a truck.) Unfortunately, I did not anticipate that sod weighs about twice as much as dirt. So when I tried lifting the mother into the back of the wagon, I think I ripped all the sinews in my inner elbows.* Unshovel half the dirt back into the bed, dump the first sod load, reshovel and dump the second load. Oi.

After scraping off the top layer of sod, I spaced my brick paths evenly along the lot line. Using a trowel, I excavated to the proper level, poured a smidgen of sand down, and started laying bricks.

The further I got down the row, the tighter the space between the edge of the curb and the edge of the concrete sidewalk became. Fortunately, I had my father's rubber mallet and masonry hammer to fit the tightest bricks into place. Yet it still was no easy task. Much swearing and brick chips in the eye were enjoyed.

After getting most of the way done, I realized that the proportions of the planting beds reminded me of a stray cat cemetery. But, turning lemons into lemonade, I remembered that there are a lot of dead stray cats around our neighborhood (because of the bus route) and realized, hey, what makes better fertilizer than dead stuff? So, collecting all the roadkill in a two block radius, I piled one into each planting bed, and covered them with 6 inches of soil.** 6 cats that finally have a final resting place. Amen.

And now we have a beautiful, albeit, slightly morbid Verge Garden Strip, ready for all the groundcover and rock garden plants I purchased.

* Yes, I know, lift with your back, not your arms.

**Just checking to see if you're reading carefully. It's like those stupid standardized tests where they make you read the passage and then see how many relevant and irrelevant*** details you can remember.

*** Not that dead cats are irrelevant, mind you. I find dead cats in the city to be extremely relevant, mostly because there's too many strays and I attribute very little value to their life. So, its the one time I rooting for Septa.

Lost Camera... Again

2011-04-20T09:30:00.001-04:00

I went back to the final location where we thought I might have lost our camera... I've checked everywhere else, but this is the second camera ~~we've~~ I've lost in three months.

Unfortunately, it might be under this pile of dirt.

So I just ordered a new one from ebay. Until next week, all photos courtesy of my sister.

Russell Wholesale Gardens

2011-04-19T14:51:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was the annual trip to Russell Wholesale Gardens. I've linked to it many times before but it bears repeating because this place is amazing. I was headed there to pick up a few more perrenials and the plants for the Verge Garden. But you never know what you'll find at Russell's. Because look at the size of this place:

And that's just one of the area's you can visit. It's huge and they have 10 varieties of anything you can imagine.

The difficult thing about Russell's is that it isn't for the newbie gardener. You arrive, park your car, and go into the trailer and pick up the "Location List."

The Location List has the names of all the plants on offer that year with what aisle you can find them in. It's much like picking up some furniture at Ikea. Except instead of Swedish, you theoretically have to know Latin. The list is hand numbered every year and is prone to mistakes, so you may or may not find what you're looking for. However, you always stumble on something you weren't expecting and didn't know you needed, such as this Ranunculus.

Furthermore, if you end up finding the specific cultivar in the right aisle... it may look a little less... verdant... than the stuff at the Home Despot.

But that's actually probably better. Most of the stuff at the big chain gardening centers is "forced", which means to put the plant in artificially warm/moist/sunny conditions to cause it to grow ahead of its appointed time. Thus the item on the shelf looks pretty, but it's like putting a baby on anabolic steroids. I've tried that, and trust me, it never ends well.

So, you may come across a pile of Verbascum 'Southern Charm'. Which is one of my favorites... and it looks like this:

And there's no pretty picture guides, so unless you knew that it will eventually turn into this:

you're not likely to be as excited as I was, for a quart container for only $2.99.

After you fill the wagon, you cart your purchases back to the trailer to checkout...

And then of course, you remember the Herb greenhouses, of which there are SEVEN...

Varieties of every herb imaginable, stuff I've never seen used in any cookbook or homeopathic quack treatment. Basils in every color. Mints for Tea, Mints for Mojitos, Mints for Cats.

Gazillions of herbs, and they're only $1.40 a piece. At that price, you are tempted to buy 50 of them.

Which brings us to the last point about Russell. Go in there with a budget. I feel really good about my three trays of plants for $100... that's 15 one quart perennials and about 50 herb pots. But that was me restraining myself... HARD.

Colorcharts.org

2011-04-14T10:08:00.002-04:00

I've referenced colorcharts.org before, but it bears repeating now that we've discovered the cost/quality/time benefits of Behr Premium Plus Paint.

If you (or your daughter Dakota or your son unfortunately named Chad or Ian) simply must have the "Pretty as a Princess" color by Disney* (through Behr paints)...

But you have a coupon for Sherwin Williams or you really like Duron paints, you can go to colorcharts.org. Find the paint you want to match...

And then select, "Match this Color", and you'll get a series of different manufacturer's with a quantified score of how close their color is to the pretty pretty pretty target.

Now, of course, you can always go to the Home Despot and just tell them to match the color. But if you go to the one near our house, I can tell you they are not only completely unpleasant to deal with, but generally wouldn't know a high gloss from a good high. I don't trust em.

*Seriously though, we all know paint color names are funny. But Disney, no matter how enamored I would ever become with my theoretical progeny, I will never paint a room in "Mickey's Pants", "Princess Power", or "Posies for Pooh". I would advise my readers to use a matching color from colorcharts just out of principle.

Greenbo Railing Planters

2011-04-13T14:17:00.000-04:00

Designers, douchey as we tend to be, do have a purpose in the world.

Coming up with ingenious ideas like this. So simple, so needed, so sweet.
Greenbo Railing Planter

My cousins have a cabin in Maine that sits 40' above the ocean with nothing but a simple cable railing to obstruct the view. In some ways, its a shame to put anything in place to obstruct that, but I could also see two simple Greenbo planters off to each side, floating effortlessly, trailing succulents perilously (although not really) in the ocean breeze.

Doors by Trustile

2011-04-12T17:41:00.000-04:00

Often times, a door is the unsung hero of the house. Other than the front door, which people tend to moon over a little more, the interior doors of your house just usually end up being whatever you can get cheapest off the shelf at the Home Despot.

That's why I love the design your door tool from Trustile Doors.

First of all, you can just play on that thing for hours... picking out flat panel, raised panel, 7 panel, ogee trim, bevel trim, rounded top, glazing, resin inserts, whatever. It allows you to see how much impact a well designed door can have.

On top of that, they just make a quality paint grade MDF door (in addition to the solid wood ones, but solid wood doors should only be used in hunting cabins at the lake or period dramas set in the 1980s or the 1890s.) And they have specialty art glass from Bendheim and Resin inserts from 3form as part of their standard offerings.

Quote That I Love Right Now

2011-04-09T19:25:00.000-04:00

Not a single friend commented on this on my facebook page... so I'll throw it out to complete strangers...

"Then an experience that perhaps no good man can ever have in our world came over him--- a torrent of perfectly unmixed and lawful hatred. The energy of hating, never before felt without some guilt, without some dim knowledge that he was failing fully to distinguish the sinner from the sin, rose into his arms and legs till he felt that they were pillars of burning blood. What was before him appeared no longer a creature of corrupted will. It was corruption itself to which will was attached only as an instrument. Ages ago, it had been a Person: but the ruins of personality now survived in it only as weapons at the disposal of a furious self-exiled negation. It is perhaps difficult to understand why this filled [him] not with horror but with a kind of joy. The joy came from finding at last what hatred was made for. As a boy with an axe rejoices on finding a tree, or a boy with a box of coloured chalks rejoices on finding a pile of perfectly white paper, so he rejoiced in the perfect congruity between his emotion and its object."

I love this quote... obviously, its googlable, but can you identify the novel offhand?

Waveline and Waveline Mini from Island Stone

2011-04-08T09:33:00.000-04:00

We're receiving tile samples for the residential project I'm working on today and the one I'm most excited to see in person is from Island Stone. On the whole, I like their product offerings, but one drawback is that they charge Architects to order samples. Free samples are a courtesy in the industry and I had half a mind to not use their products because of it. Its the little things that matter...

But, my client really likes the Waveline glass tile, and the price, at least from our local distributor is a mere $7/SF. That's cheaper than basic mosaics from the Home Despot.

So, we'll see if the real thing matches up with the pictures, which look sweet.

They also have a "mini" version which coordinates nicely and might be better for a small accent within a larger field of plain tile...

Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce for the Slow Cooker

2011-04-07T09:30:00.003-04:00

Ah the slow cooker... helpmate to any working professional's need for a fast dinner. The best slow cooker recipes for the working stiff are ones that can be assembled at 7:30 AM in 15 minutes and are done at 6:00 PM. The problem is that most recipes call for 8 hours of cooking, which just isn't long enough to get you through a work day. And the anxiety ridden slow cooker manufacturers think that we're too dumb to figure out how to cook our food safely. They're so concerned that if I pre-mix everything and let it stand for 1 or 2 hours before beginning the cooking process, Botulism will reign supreme and they'll be sued. So they won't put a delay timer on any of their models.

To that end, we've resorted to one of those little timers that you get at the hardware store, like these:

Its obnoxious, but it does the trick. Anyways, we recently modified a recipe for a North African inspired "Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce". Here's the rundown:

Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce

1 Tbs Olive or Vegetable Oil

8 Large Chicken Thighs or 6 Boneless Chicken Thighs, Skins Removed

1 Large Onion, chopped

2 Hot Chilies, Seeds & Stems Removed, Chopped

2 14.5 oz Cans Diced Tomatoes

1 14.5 oz Can Crushed Tomatoes

2 Tbs Honey

3 tsp Ground Cumin

1 ½ tsp Ground Cinnamon

1/3 cup Creamy Peanut Butter

1 tsp Salt

2 cups hot cooked couscous or Israeli Couscous

Shredded Carrots (Garnish)

Chopped Peanuts (Garnish)

1. Heat Oil in nonstick Skillet over Medium High. Cook chicken in oil about 4 minutes, turning once to brown. Also, if you're pressed for time in the morning, it'll be just fine if you just throw the chicken in there without browning.

2. Mix chopped onion, tomatoes, chilies, honey cumin and cinnamon in 4-5 quart slow cooker. Add chicken and spoon some mixture over top, leaving the chicken at the top of the pot. Toss another pepper if you like it really hot.

3. Cover and cook on low for 7 to 8 hours (or on high for 1 hour and turn down to low for 3-4 hours) until juice is no longer pink from thickest part of the chicken when cut. Or, don't be a ninny, and just eat it. Chicken on the slightly pink side never hurt anyone except those who are already frightened of life.

4.Remove chicken, stir in peanut butter until melted and blended. Replace chicken if not ready to serve and make a cocktail.

5. Serve chicken and sauce over couscous with sprinkled carrots and peanuts.

Which Brand of Paint Should I buy?

2011-04-06T09:30:00.010-04:00

I've always had an affinity for Benjamin Moore paints. In retrospect, I'm not exactly sure why. I felt like they performed better and lasted longer and had better coverage per gallon than anything you could buy at the Home Despot. My wife on the other hand, has always been very turned off by the high price tag. She is a sensibly frugal woman. And good with a roller. And hot.

So a recent March 2011 article from Consumer Reports grabbed my eye. Here's the link, but of course you have to be a subscriber to access any of the important info.

(I know SOME people who like to split online subscriptions between three or four users by all using the same sign-in/password. Those people are immoral. They have access to great info to write blogs about, but no scruples. The House Rules is not advocating such a practice, but if anyone has an online subscription to Zagat...)

Anyways, to give you the juicy tidbits, while Benjamin Moore was #2 for semigloss, #3 for flat/matte, and #5 for satin/eggshell, It was the Behr Premium Plus Ultra brand that scored #1 in all three categories. Additionally, the VOC's (Volatile Organic Compounds) which we've all been taught to fear and despise like Nuclear Power and Nancy Pelosi, were approximately one half to two thirds lower in the Behr paints than the Bmoores.

But you get what you pay for, right? WRONG. At a range of $48-51 per gallon for the Benjamin Moore and a range of $31-34 for the Behr, a clear winner emerges. AND, if the $30/gallon range is even too high for you, the next step down from Behr, the Premium Plus (Not Ultra) scored in the same range for only $18-25 a gallon.

The moral? My wife is usually right. And we're going to try Behr for while. Which, begrudgingly, of course, means going to the Home Despot. But as previously implied, my morals are available to be compromised.

Verge Garden- Part 4: Plant Selection

2011-04-05T07:49:00.001-04:00

The weather has turned warm again (again) and this time I'm actually going to get my hopes up that winter is over and I can begin gardening.

I've compiled a list of species for the Verge Planting Strip Garden. I'm focused mostly on herbs* for two reasons...

One, as they're stepped on in this highly trafficked zone, they'll release a refreshing aroma to cover the odor of pitbull excrement and weed. (I'm kidding. I really like the smell of weed and I don't want anything to cover it up.)

Two, at Russell Wholesale, they're extremely cheap, $1.50 for a 3" pot I believe, and they propogate rapidly, making them a cost effective filler solution.

Anyways, here's the shopping list:

Antennaria dioica `New Hybrids'


Chamaemelum nobile*

Chamaemelum nobile `Treneague'*

Corsican Mint*

Pennroyal (English)*

Mazus Reptans Alba


Sedum Spurium Red Carpet


Creeping Lemon Thyme*


Nutmeg Thyme*

Veronica Repens

*The other primary reason I highlight the Herbs is that this posting will be the first time the Mrs. sees the shopping list. She has expressed concern over the gardening budget this year. (Rightly so as I have no impulse control whatsoever when it comes to food, gardening, drinks, nicotine, and sarcasm.)

Verge Garden- Part 3: Inspiration

2011-03-30T09:00:00.002-04:00

Once recent comment on the Verge Planting Strip Garden post, cited "There's no way in hell that'll work. People will walk all over it and everything will die."

I now direct your attention to Greenwalks.

It's a whole blog dedicated to parking strip planting.

From Greenwalks Blog

I mean, look at that Helleborus. Her pictures are total garden porn.

Invasivore in the City

2011-03-29T21:52:00.000-04:00

Not long ago, I wrote a post on “Stink Bug Eradication Techniques” which to my surprise has been my most popular entry in The House Rules. To summarize, Stink Bugs took over the Eastern Seaboard about 10 years ago as an invasive species from China with no local predators. In my blog, I encouraged readers to do the most natural thing imaginable and find a way to reduce the stink bug population, not through pesticides or a rolled up newspaper, but by making them into dinner. Pate, Tacos, whatever.

Recently, I stumbled across this article in Slate which regarded the invasive Red Lionfish in the Florida Keys as a similar, but delectable menace. It’s almost too beautiful to eat despite the great recipes in Lionfish Cookbook: The Caribbean’s New Delicacy.

The Red Lionfish

But that was just the tip of the melting iceberg. Wit a little interwebbing, I discovered that unbeknownst to me, my idea was trending, and now there’s a term for this big ol' group of crazypants: Invasivores.

In the wake of my post, other bloggers must have caught the same idea, including The Compact , Dot Earth and Take Part. Okay, I have no way of knowing that they got the idea from me, but what is the internet for if not unmerited hubris?

So what’s an invasivore here in Philly supposed to tackle? Well Canadian Geese and Starlings are among the top 10 most costly invasive species in the US. Garlic Mustard and Zebra Mussels are rapidly overrunning Pennsylvania’s waterways and forest undergrowth.

But when I think of Philadelphia, the most irritating, loathsome, and possibly yummy options that spring to mind include:

The Northern Snakehead

The Rock Pigeon

and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention

The Feral Cat

I need to pull out my copy of the Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine. I know he had a chapter on Squab (Baby Pigeons) but I can’t recall if there was anything on Feline Pot Pie.

Infused Vodka

2011-03-25T09:30:00.006-04:00

We've been infusing our own vodkas over the winter with much success...

So far, the delectable winners have been:

Cranberry Thyme Vodka (Batch #3 shown in pink below)
Clementine Clove Vodka
Blueberry Lemongrass Vodka

But we don't like:

Blackberry Thyme Vodka (shown in dark purple below)

I'm about to break into the Grapefruit Fennel Vodka which is the yellow tinged one that I just finished, shown here. I'll let you know what we come up with for mixology opportunities.

And I just started a batch of Watermelon Basil Vodka.

Really the sky is the limit on these concoctions. Just throw a handful of fruits, nuts, spices, whatever in a clean glass jar, pour a liter of vodka over top and let it sit in a dark place for a month. Strain and serve.

One word of caution, don't try to infuse in the pretty bottles. Getting grapefruit rinds out of a narrow necked bottle is a frikkin pain. I had to fill the bottle with oven cleaner and let it sit for two days before I made any headway. But fortunately I was buzzed from drinking other infused vodkas most of that time, so the wait didn't seem that long.

Verge Garden- Part 2: Planning

2011-03-24T09:30:00.003-04:00

The ~~Planting Strip~~ Verge shown in the picture below is actually the length of two lots, my own and my neighbor's.

Now, the whole plan came about after I got sick of constantly mowing both ends of the strip because my neighbor (who is living in Miss Edna's house FOR FREE) can't be bothered with home maintenance. So my original intent was to use my leftover bricks to create a walking garden that would not require mowing. In addition, the plant material between the bricks would have to be treadable since I can't expect everyone who parks here to carefully choose their footing before stepping out of the passenger seat.

To that end, I created the following plan, to use up my 120 bricks.

Now this plan, let's call her "Scheme- A" will use all 120 bricks, but will also require 27 6" plants and 42 3" plants. That's no frickin joke in terms of budget.

But then I thought, "I'm a little disgruntled with the neighbor who won't mow/weed/shovel/paint etc." So, if you look carefully, you'll notice that I modified the drawing & colored all the plants on her side of the property line blue. That's because they represent Poison Ivy which is a lovely ornamental vine with waxy leaves and a trifoliate growth habit. Coincidentally, I'm immune to some of the adverse effects I've heard it is rumored to have.

However, I could feel God teaching me a lesson in humility and forgiveness even as I contemplated planting poison ivy on her side. He'd might take away my immunity the moment I started planting it. Plus, where does one buy 6" pots of Poison Ivy? I already checked Burpees.

So I came up with the alternate less ambitious, "Scheme- B" which is shown below. This still has 120 bricks, in wider paths, but with only 13 6" pots and 20 3" pots. Plus, less digging.

I guess I'm still undecided. Do you have a preference?

Planting Strip Garden- Part 1: Introduction

2011-03-23T17:49:00.003-04:00

Per my earlier post, I'm planning a garden in the grassy strip between my sidewalk and the street.

As I began to write this post, I realized that there was a problem. What does one call the strip of earth/grass/mud/litter that many cities have between the sidewalk and the curb and street? Well, I began by searching the Philadelphia Municipal Code, which is actually a great resource.

I've used it before to contest a ticket I received for double parking. (By looking up the definition carefully, I discovered that I was in fact NOT double parking, but instead was blocking the Bus Stop. But that's not what I was charged with, so the fuzz was S.O.L when I contested the ticket in court. Anal Retentive Nerd: 1, Traffic Cop: 0)

Anyways, in Philadelphia, the aforementioned strip is defined in a subset of the code section on "sidewalks" and is called simply, "the planting strip."

But apparently the term varies from locale to locale:

From Alt-Usage-English.org:

This varies regionally. Terms include "verge" (U.K.); "nature strip" (south Australia); "berm" (New Zealand); "parkway" and "planting strip" (western U.S.); "parking strip", "parking", "tree belt", "tree lawn", "lawn strip", "devil strip", "boulevard", and "terrace" (all eastern U.S.); "city strip" and "boulevard strip"(both Canada); and "long acre" (rural Ireland and elsewhere). Most of these terms have other meanings also.

Personally, I prefer the term "devil strip". On the other hand, if I start calling it "the verge" I can always claim I'm from the U.K. when I'm questioned on my appropriation of the space in the future. People tend to be nicer to Englishmen in the U.S. Perhaps its the accent, or remnants of social guilt for absconding with "The Office", or perhaps its just sympathy for the bad teeth.

I'm going with Verge.

DJ Self Criticism

2011-03-17T10:39:00.000-04:00

I am currently preparing some music for a couple of party events in the near future. In terms of being a DJ for these kind of things, my style leans toward the funk/pop/rock range, bordering on what many would consider "Wedding DJ" territory. Of course, no Electric Slide, Funky Chicken, or Cha Cha Slide... even if those are requested by the bride herself, both DJ and the entire wedding party should be euthanized on the spot.

That said, no DJ is above their own personal biases, and those should be examined critically. I realized as I was preparing the playlists, that many of my personal favorite dance songs include the "Party in the Background" production value. Hoots and hollers, clapping, crowd noise, etc. The big question is whether the "Party in the Background" is a symbol of a good dance song, a crutch that elevates a mediocre dance song, or something even more heinous, something I just like because I'm an easily manipulable extrovert and covers the fact that these songs actually suck.

Readers, I submit a few somewhat lesser known dance songs for your review. Enlighten me to my bias or good taste as the case may be...

Also, I was recently given the DJ name, "Brother Hoops." You can feel free to comment on that as well as I haven't decided whether to fully embrace it or not.

Floating Shelf

2011-03-15T15:26:00.000-04:00

I saw this picture on This Old House's The Hardware Aisle blog and was reminded of when my best friend and I did something similar in the bathroom of our tiny two room apartment in University City.

It was perfect for storing all manner of bathroom and cleaning supplies. But, of course, my anal nature required that in order for the shelf display to be aesthetically pleasing, I had to purchase enough rolls of toilet paper to fill the entire perimeter. I basically made crown molding out of toilet paper. I wish I had that picture to post.

Sanderson Wallpapers- Right in the Kisser

2011-03-11T11:30:00.001-05:00

We were recently at my sister's house in DC where she had pulled out a bunch of wallpaper books to show to my wife. Rach and I have often discussed wallpaper for a few rooms of our house, especially those where:

1. We've already painted the space three times and can't find a color we both like.

2. We've already painted but I put a hole in the wall and now we have one of her sister's paintings covering the catastrophe.

3. We've already painted but staring at a monotone wall color from 18 inches away whilst sitting on the throne is boring.

4. We've already painted ourselves into a corner by deciding we we can't bother to strip all the wallpaper off a space before refinishing. (See what I did there?)

Anyways, my sister's books were of the old-school wallpaper variety: fleur de lis, brocade, watercolor-y ivy vines, etc. Whilst that is all well and good, I figure if you're going to embrace the wallpaper, you best go big or go home. That's why I think Sanderson wallpapers, hailing from the UK, are so awesome. Check out these pics from their 50s collection.

Makes me want to smoke a cig, swill a martini, and yell "One of these days... One of these days... POW! Right in the kisser!"

They also have some more conservative but still cool stuff appropriate for the DC Beltway set, should you be a reader from those distant reaches. Or my sister.

Kretchma Cocktail

2011-03-10T20:28:00.001-05:00

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the ~~political bands~~ stresses which have c~~onnected~~ bugged the frick out of them ~~with another~~ , and to assume among the powers of the earth, ~~the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them~~ that the Mac & Cheese intended for dinner is taking forever to cook from a frozen state, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should ~~declare~~ drink away the causes which impel them to the ~~separation~~ irritation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all ~~men~~ cocktails are NOT created equal, but that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable ~~rights~~ flavors, that among these are ~~life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness~~ a pleasant balance of tart, sweet, cream, and bitter.

Thusly, we give you the Kretchma Cocktail... again, portioned for two...

Kretchma Cocktail
2 lemon Twists
3 oz Vodka
3 oz White Creme de Cacao
1 1/2 oz fresh Lemon Juice
3/4 teaspoon Grenadine

Rim two chilled cocktail glasses with the lemon twists. Combine the Vodka, Creme de Cacao, Lemon Juice and Grenadine in a cocktail shaker with crushed ice. Shake it like a Polaroid picture. Strain into glasses and top with the lemon twists.

Its kind of like birthday cake but knocks you on your ass.

Throwing the Baby Out

2011-03-10T12:01:00.000-05:00

The Sheffield sink we previously discussed was a success. My clients liked it thoroughly, and are even excited about the potential of washing heretofore non-existent Grandchildren in it. (I think the world can largely be divided into two groups of people, those who find this practice acceptable (aka Normal People) and those who find the practice abhorrent (aka Whineoceroses).

Unfortunately, as we begin to look at the kitchen cabinet layout in more detail, it just isn't going to fit in this kitchen space we have to work with. Add to that the fact that the sink company's website has apparently ceased to function, and I'm in a proverbial pickle.

So the choices are to demolish a concrete block wall of possible load bearing function to make the kitchen bigger (not likely) OR to find a similar but smaller sink. Grak, what's a baby washing grandma to do?

Were you washed in a sink as a baby? Would you rather pay a hell of a lot of money to tear down a concrete block wall or have the option to wash your baby in the kitchen sink? If you wash your baby in the kitchen sink while also soaking some corn on the cob to throw on the grill, is it child abuse or ecologically friendly thinking?

Getting your Soil Tested

2011-03-09T09:00:00.006-05:00

I'm working on getting a community garden started in the Francisville section of Philadelphia at the Berean Institute where my church meets. The lot is currently covered with grass and I thought that it would be a good idea to get the soil tested so we can supplement it with whatever urea, peat, or bonemeal it needs.

So I collected samples from the Institute lawn and then figured I'd grab a few bits from my own yard as well. Our back yard has had a tough time growing grass, and the front flower garden has performed adequately, but I'd love to know how to rectify the damage I've done with saltwater runoff from the sidewalk and steps during winter de-icing.

I took them to Primex Garden Center in Glenside which is a fantastic, if a little pricey, nursery. I've gone there with branches of trees before to have them identified, gotten rare perennials from their greenhouses, and had great conversations with the knowledgeable staff. I will always prefer them to the Home Despot for all things green thumbish. Primex can test for pH on site within minutes for free which is a great first step. But I thought a more thorough investigation might be warranted for the community garden plot. Available for $10, they'll provide you with a mail-order kit to send your soil samples to Penn State's Agricultural Analytical Services Labratory. You may mentally connect this to the urban legend of the cow with a window in her stomach. Jessie the cow DID exist with a plastic viewing window into her punctured flank. Alas, despite rumors to the contrary, one cannot go visit Jessie the Ruminant today. She died in 1930. Plus, by even setting foot in State College, PA, today, one immediately becomes too intoxicated to be allowed near farm animals.

Anyways, the process is very straightforward. You need about a cup of soil. They have more complex instructions for taking the soil in plugs from 15 locations, mixing them together, and getting a composite sample from a larger area. But its not like I'm trying to grow award winning rutabagas. I just want to make sure there's not a deadly amount of Francium or something. So, one spade-ful will have to do. However, the instructions do require one to dry out the soil, so that the test covers what's actually in the soil and not the water. (Which seems kind of odd to me, since I would want to know if the water in the soil has Francium, but whatever, what doesn't kill us only makes us glow in the dark.)

So I'm drying soil in paper covered trays in the sunniest windowsills in the house. Admittedly, it looks a little funny, but as long as it finishes drying out before Queen Elizabeth comes over for tea and strumpets, we should be fine.

Open House- 3458 Midvale Ave

2011-03-08T09:00:00.001-05:00

We often are underwhelmed when we decide to take a tour of the Sunday open houses, but this last one inspired a new repetitive section of the blog... The pictures are easily available and public,... and if we're lucky, someone we know will buy this house.

3458 Midvale Ave is in the East Falls Neighborhood of Philly. This house is only about 3 blocks from the Schuylkill River and the commercial strip of East Falls. Which, btw, includes the restaurant Fork & Barrel. On a side note, its a good place, but we do wish they could get their hot dogs in order.

Anyways, the front yard has southern exposure, with a terraced step up to the front door. The arched front door with stained glass is the first indicator that things inside are going to be good.

The interiors are well appointed. While the transparent finish oak trim isn't my favorite, it works with the house. The house has multiple level changes from front to back. The opening from the living to the dining is particularly nice. Its a 12 foot wide arched opening with two steps up. Its sets the open plan off to just the right degree.

But the best part of this whole house is in the basement. Coming down from the kitchen, one arrives at the bar... Its a small setup, but the perfect size for a house of this size. I could really see myself setting up shop there.

And when I finally pass out from overconsumption, the bar area conveniently has a queen Murphy bed tucked away in a millwork door. (There's also a bathroom in the door to the left for the 2 AM wake up call.)

A Good Dry Lay

2011-03-07T20:07:00.000-05:00

During the fall, we dug up the existing brick patio at our house in order to level it with the adjacent concrete walkway and create more space in the garden bed at the top of the stairs.

The resultant patio, while not huge, will be a nice place to yell at the SEPTA buses as they careen past our house with no regard for human life. We're looking forward to trying it out soon.

We rebuilt the patio on a base of compacted top soil, 2 inches of gravel, 2 inches of paver base, and 1 inch of sand. If you're interested in the process, this article from This Old House covers the basics. The process of carting all that home in our Hyundai Elantra named Brewster is probably what put the poor fella into an early grave. RIP.

We used the dry lay method, which trust me, is much more pleasant than it sounds... I would add one thing to the article... per my cousin's suggestion, we added 1 part dry portland cement to every 3 parts of sand for both the base layer of sand and the final sweep layer into the cracks of the pavers. After a few winter snows/rains/thaws, the moisture slowly seeped into the sand and really locked everything into place. Its not as tight as a mortar bed would have been, but wowzer, is it a lot less work.

Surprisingly, even with all the upheaval of brick and sitting in a pile in the sun for a month or two, the moss appears to have survived the winter on the bricks and should splotchily cover the patio soon. At which point we can invite the local hobbits over for elevensies.

As a result of reducing the overall size, we now have about 120 bricks left. I tried to ~~pawn them off~~ donate them to my good friend Jim for his brick patio project, but apparently he didn't want to cart this insignificant amount down to North Philly. Anyways, now we have to come up with something to do with them.

My plan is to reduce the amount of "mowing" that I do with our manual spinny wheel mower thing that has the dullest blades known to mankind. I seriously think I could cut the grass faster with my hammer. The only strip of grass out front is between the sidewalk and the road. I think I'll lay a series of brick "paths" across the short distance and then infill the remaining green areas with a walkable garden. More on that project later...

Siiiiidecars

2011-03-07T19:17:00.000-05:00

The perfect Sidecar recipe... Portioned for two because one should never drink Sidecars alone:

Sidecar:
Lemon Wedge
Superfine Sugar
4 1/2 oz brandy
4 1/2 oz triple sec
1 1/2 oz fresh lemon juice.

Rim a cocktail glass with lemon wedge and spin in plated sugar. Use a citrus stripper to pull two lemon twists from the wedge before discarding. Place twists in two glasses and chill in the freezer.

In a cocktail shaker, half filled with crushed ice, combine lemon juice, triple sec, and brandy. Shake heartily. Strain into chilled glasses and enjoy.

Have several tonight and by tomorrow you'll be ready to kamikaze outta your job and declare, "I never have to put on those silly shirts for as long as this warlock exists in the terrestrial dimension."

It takes a 1500...

2011-03-03T09:47:00.002-05:00

I started reading this article from Slate about the whiny fastidiousness of NPR listeners, or more accurately the whiny fastidiousness of NPR listeners who write into the station. I followed one of the links to this 10 minute NPR interview with Ke$ha.

The most important fact that I can convey from this morning's research is that Ke$ha got a 1500 on her SATs.

1500*

I would incredulously act shocked that this is a hair better than my SAT scores, which I don't tout because I think it makes me smart, I'm just a ridiculously good test taker. I actually think there are brilliant people out there who scored much much lower, but they're just not good standardized testers. But if I was to incredulously state such a thing, it would put me in the same camp as these snooty NPR letter campaign writers, who put themselves far above the gutter workings of shiny pop culturedom.

What I find so funny about this is how easily we look at "art" and transcribe the critique of the piece onto the artist themselves. Which is not to say that Ke$ha is or isn't an "artist", or that her "work" is worthy of critical merit or isn't. You can debate that fact over a Pinot Grigio and free range cheese plate at your local oenephile watering hole, but I'm not getting into that here. Its just that people look at the pop product produced by a Jay-Z, or a Alan Ball, or a Joss Whedon, or a Lady Gaga, and place value and worth on the person's humanity. What makes "Dirt off your Shoulder", "True Blood", "Dollhouse", or "Born This Way" fitting indicators of these people's genius? They're pop artifacts as well, but of a different subject. Yet, these folks are esteemed for their creative and empire management prowess. But create a piece that is dedicated to the art of funjoy and influencing others to surrender themselves to it, (which I believe is actually a complicated emotion/action to orchestrate), and the masses cry out "to avoid this sort of stupidity".

"The party don't start til I walk in." Indubitably, Ms. Sebert, Indubitably.

*That's in the 99 percentile. She did not state what she got on the Math vs the Verbal. My guess is that she's probably pretty equally left and right brained and scored similarly on both halves. Of course, all of this is dating me tremendously as the SAT has been three sections and based on a 2400 max possible score since 2006. But I guess its dating Ke$ha** as well.

**Hmm. Dating Ke$ha would be odd. Fortunately, I don't have a beard.

Uffa!- Long Johns

2011-03-03T07:38:00.000-05:00

Dang. Never should have tempted fate by writing that last post. Pretty much as I was writing about it being so frikkin warm, the air began its combative descent into the 20's.

Ugh. Back to wearing Long Johns.

You got me Sprung... With Photo Evidence

2011-03-02T17:16:00.001-05:00

Well, March is upon us, and it is surprisingly warm here in Philly. We've been getting some pretty consistently nice days, and the thoughts of every urban gardener are turning to root division, compost, aeration, and if they're at all in the know, Russell Wholesale Gardens. That's right, spring has sprung.

But until I get a day to travel up to that Nursery of Delights, take some photos, have a Horticultural experience, (If reading this aloud, make sure to really drag out the "H" sound in "Horticultural" and you'll get my drift.), and post a blog about it, we'll just have to content ourselves with some photos of the emerging plant life. The garden doesn't look like much from afar, heck even 3 feet away...

But get a little closer...

Even a little closer...

Even a little closer...

And you'll see ERUPTIONS OF VIRILE FERVOR...

Helleborus

Sedum

Bloody Sorrell

Garlic Chives

Tulip

Primrose

Columbine

Bearded Iris

Mostly I just wanted to show off our new camera... finally I can take some decent macro shots. Damn. Where's my wife?

Swirlys, Wet Willies, Pink Bellies, Zerberts, Combos, and Wedgies

2011-03-01T07:31:00.001-05:00

Friday Night...

Our pastor, Geoff Bradford, and his family are regrettably leaving to lead some group ~~of jerks~~ at a ~~stupid~~ church in ~~the backwater nowhere of~~ Raleigh, NC. I'm not still bitter and Praise the Lord, blah, blah, blah.

Anyways, his 6 boys have been a real joy over the past 9 years, so I wanted to throw them a special event to celebrate. I told them that we would have a massive sleepover, wrestlefest, Philly junkfood tour, video game extravaganza with all the guys from our church they wanted. They made a list and excitedly discussed it every night at dinner. Clay, who is 6 or 7 I think, was apparantly discussing this with his Dad, and started calling it "Man Night". His Dad said, "But, you're not a man...?". Clay responded "So, there'll be men!". His Dad followed up with, "Well, what are you going to wear to Man Night?" Immediately, Clay declared, "Well, I'm not wearing a shirt!"

Anyways, here's the poster:

Courtesy- David Speers Promotional Events

Highlights:

Garrison- The pinkest belly ever; His shared desire for a ginormous Squid tattoo; Farting;
Sam- Settlers of Catan Smack Talk; Gangsta Rap; Winning in Manliness Points;
Henry- Him getting a Swirly; Him getting a Polish Wedgie; Him clutching a Teddy Bear?;
Clay- Ruffio; Leaving him to Wander the streets of Fishtown alone; South Street Challenge (sorta);
Ezra- Witnessing what I can only assume was his first Wedgie; The trauma it seemed to induce;
Asher- Motorcycle Helmets; Vacant Baby Stares; General Cuteness;

Bitter Yuck Spray... A Review

2011-02-25T07:50:00.001-05:00

Our Dog, Makai, has developed a new behavior, two years into his life. He has started dumping over trashcans while we're gone. Now, in the past, whenever we've discussed the beast on the blog, many very well-informed and well-meaning readers pop into the comments to let us know what we're doing wrong. Before we get into that, let me outline a few things I've learned:

1. The Beast is not hungry. More typically than not, he tips over trashcans which do not contain, nor ever have contained anything edible, smelly, exciting to the olfactorys, etc. More often than not, he likes to flip the shredded paper can, which as you can imagine, is the MOST difficult one to clean up.

2. The Beast is not lonely. Or I should say, if this dog is experiencing any of the psychologically speculative conditions such as separation anxiety, he has to suck it up, hard. He gets a one hour romp in the woods every morning with other people and dogs. He gets a mid-day dog walk. He gets a post-work hour long walk through the neighborhood. Multiple trips to the dog park. All sortsa play time of wrestling, hide and seek, chase around the house with my wife and I. I think we'd spend less time on a human toddler.

3. In conclusion, the Beast, while we love him dearly, is evidence of original sin, total depravity, and the fallen nature of our world. I'm much more comfortable applying theological concepts to our dog than psychological ones.

Here he is, looking shifty:

In the past we've used Grannick's Bitter Apple, but either the stuff goes bad or it wasn't strong enough to stop the Beast from his Machivellian schemes. So, in order to try and curb this behavior, my wife bought a bottle of Bitter Yuck No Chew Spray to put on all our trashcans.

First, can we discuss the marketing/branding of this product? Attention Pet Care industry... just because I own a dog does not mean that I am a 8 year old. He did not "make a stinky", he is not "a naughty puppy", and when we want him to stop chewing on something, we're not going to chide him with "bitter yucky grossy blech." I'm an human adult, please treat me as such.

Now, my wife put this on all the trashcans in our house and it has definitely helped. We've seen a decline in the trash dumping behavior. To be fair, we also keep him in one room of the house most of the times we're gone since he started this rebellion. So that is probably a big part of it too. But my wife and I are convinced it does help.

For this reason, my wife continues to spray the kitchen trashcan with Bitter Yucky Grossy Blech. Last night, whilst cleaning the kitchen, I threw away some fried rice and then when all of it hadn't come out of the pan completely, I scooped up the remainder with my hand and shoved it in my mouth. I can attest fully that Bitter Yucky Grossy Blech, is in fact BAD. I couldn't get the nastiness out of mouth for some time despite rinsing with water, milk, vodka, and all manner of other things.

Now, I'm sure this brought you a chuckle, as the dog-owner got his comeuppance during this episode. Yes, that would be funny enough, if this was the first time this has happened. But no, this is probably episode 6 or 7 this week. E.g... me making a cocktail, having a sip, and proclaiming to Rachael, "Something's wrong with our Dishwasher, these glasses have a Bitter Yucky Grossy Blech taste to them!" or me making a salad, "Love, I can't believe how fast these cherry tomatoes went bad, they have a Bitter Yucky Grossy Blech flavor!"

Last night, I finally put two and two together and said, "UGH, this stupid Bitter Yucky Grossy Blech! It never goes away! It keeps getting in my mouth."

My wife, like the personification of wisdom calling in the streets to the wayward fool, chuckled. "Perhaps, this would be a good reminder for you not to touch the trashcan and then immediately put something in your mouth without washing your hands. I keep spraying the trashcan, which is why the stuff doesn't go away. I wouldn't expect Makai to necessarily make the association between the trashcan and the nasty taste right away but supposedly you have more cognitive reasoning skills than he. Bitter Yuck... works for dogs and husbands."

THAT should be the company's new branding campaign.

Everything but the...

2011-02-24T17:17:00.001-05:00

While we're talking about kitchens, let's discuss the kitchen sink. Of all the places in my house, the kitchen sink work station is one where being a tall man comes at an extreme disadvantage. Kitchen counters are unfortunately set at an industry standard 36 inches high. If you're a tall person, say 6'-0" or taller, this causes you to lean over the counter ever so slightly to get close to what you're doing. The kitchen sink tends to be one place where you stand for a prolonged period of time, doing all those frakking dishes. At an average of 8" deep, that puts the bottom of the sink at 28", AKA just above the knee*. Back aches and cramps ensue. (My wife would site that if I just cooked less elaborate meals, I wouldn't be washing so many dishes.) One can get taller cabinets made, theoretically, but that'd be mighty expensive and who knows if the next buyer of your home is also going to have an antelopish dude who likes to cook?

So in my research on kitchen sinks today, I stumbled across this beauty from Kohler**...

Now without seeing it in context, or downloading the specifications and measurements, you might not realize that this puppy sits on top of the counter. Its still the average 8" deep, which is less than I prefer, but the top lip sits 4 inches above your countertop surface, bringing the base of the sink to 32" AKA mid-thigh*. A tall man's dream sink.

It is listed as an apron sink, which is another thing to discuss. I've never really understood this fascination with apron or farmhouse sinks that is going around right now. Other than the ability to hang a dishtowel on the edge and not get the front edge of your cabinets wet, what's the appeal? Is it really just fashion? It seems like there are a lot disadvantages for an apron front, including how they work with standard cabinet sizes, if its just a fashion statement. Clue me in here.

But then, it occured to me that one half of my client is a little less than tall. The apron sink does give one benefit of dropping the sink base by an inch and a half (similar to an undermount sink) but bringing the basin the whole way out to the edge of the counter so that she can wash the dishes without the inverse of the problem I have.

So, I found this sink for her from Sheffield. I'm questioning whether it will be helpul or not. Your thoughts? What functional benefits or disadvantages do you see in a sink like this? Leave it in the comments...

Footnotes:

*I was going to use other relative length/height descriptors but this is a family blog.

**Can we discuss why Kohler would choose to have a picture of old people bathing together on the front page of their site? Ew. Old people shouldn't bathe. That way their smell becomes a primary indicator that there's one in the next room and everyone can be on their guard against impending inevitable crotchetyness.

***All this discussion of short people makes me want to link "Shorty is an Eenie Meenie Mo Lover". Enjoy the Biebs, y'all..

Dish Drying Rack et al...

2011-02-24T15:13:00.000-05:00

I had seen this great idea for a folding dish rack above the kitchen sink in Philadelphia Magazine from a house near us in Chestnut Hill. I don't think it will necessarily be applicable in the house I'm designing but I stumbled across it while searching for precedent and idea images of kitchens to show the client. I thought y'all might like it. Here's some of the other kitchen shots I'm collecting...

Seamless Stainless Steel, Seamless Stainless Steel, Seamless Stainle...

2011-02-23T16:40:00.000-05:00

Oh to be sketching again...

It feels like such a long time since I put pencil to trace paper and came up with some original ideas. Plus, to add to my joy, I found a nice brown pencil to do my pochés. [poh-sheyz]
(Your lesson in Architecture snobbery today will be the correct usage of the word poché. Please don your black turtleneck sweater and say "Seamless Stainless Steel" with shivers of pleasure 7 times fast before clicking through to this explanatory link.)

My friend Nate from Architecture School.

I always was mocked in school for my love of sepia toned pencil drawings. But to me, there was nothing like a decidedly modernist plan or section drawn in brown pencil like an old-timey saloon photo at the theme park. Sarcasm is our friend, kids. Its keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously whilst we discuss Zaha Hadid vs. Frank Gehry: Who's the bigger blowhard?

In summation, while these sketches aren't going to win any awards or demolish anybody's façade*, its nice to be sketching... satisfaction is its own reward.

If you look closely, you'll also notice that my new plan has a quilting room. Don't you wish you could have a quilting room? In the comments, feel free to mention what you would use a "quilting room" for... and don't be dirty.

*That's just a bonus snobbery lesson for you. Same rules apply before clicking through to Wikipedia.

Cork Floor

2011-02-22T17:02:00.000-05:00

I'm starting work on a new project today, a residential unit over looking Rittenhouse square. It's in the Parc building, right over the Stephen Starr restaurant of the same name. I'm super excited about it both as I've wanted to do some residential work for some time and because among other things, check out the view...

It's definitely winter in Philly, but once those trees green up and the park comes to life, it'll be amazing.

Anyways, I'm already starting to think of things I'd like to do in the space. Since the owners are wine enthusiasts, I immediately thought this product that I saw on This Old House's blog "The Hardware Aisle" would be great to use, perhaps in the kitchen.

Cork flooring "tile", recycled from rejected wine corks, durable and stain resistant, soft underfoot, and just plain beautiful. Heck, I'd like to put it in our kitchen too. It'd be perfect for dancing while I'm cooking dinner... which is usually to top 40 hits of the year past. I have great taste in flooring. Many would say "not so much", about my taste in music.

Thrunday- Raj Collins

2011-02-21T17:00:00.001-05:00

So among the developments in recent months has been the healing of a deep seated rift in my marriage to my wife: namely, how to throw a party together.

We both knew that we loved to be hospitable. Its one way in which we love to love people. But the primary issue is that I am an extreme extrovert who values short shallow relationships with a lot of people all at once and my wife is a deep introvert who values actual meaningful relationships with a few people for an extended period of time. Left to my own devices, I would throw a massive party with 100 people barely fitting in our home with drinking, reveling, music, etc where I didn’t have to talk to any one person for too long about their new boring film project on the oppression of the indigenous population of Galamaharis in West Skeda… Zzzzzzz...

My wife on the other hand, would lean toward an intimate gathering of two or four friends on an occasional basis, but one where she could really dig in and ask them how they FELT about the new cell phone ring they’ve chosen.

We finally struck upon a perfect compromise. The third Sunday of every month we host a happy hour for all sorts of friends and neighbors from 5-7. For her, its perfect because she can mingle but also hang with her closest friends who make it a point to be there every time. Since it is a monthly event and it has a limited time frame, it strikes the perfect balance of getting to connect with people deeply but not be overwhelmed with being “on”. For me, its perfect because I can invite new people every time and they mingle and take care of themselves for two hours. I can feed them good food and drinks for less than it would cost Rach and I to go get two cocktails a piece at the local watering hole. We have taken to calling the event “Thrunday”. (Yes, phonetically and etymologically it isn’t a perfect contraction for Third Sunday, but it rolls of the tongue and sounds vaguely medieval.

Anyways, we had a good bit of gin in the cabinet for yesterday’s Thrunday and I was itching to make these Samosas that I found online. (PS, excellent. But put in half the peas called for and I cooked up some frozen diced potatoes instead of the mashed.) So, an Indian Theme emerged. And I spent a little of Sunday afternoon coming up with a new cocktail, the Raj Collins. (I’m sure you can put two and two together.)

Here’s the recipe:

The Raj Collins**

Raj Collins
Super Fine Sugar
Garam Masala
Lemon wedge
1 oz fresh lemon juice (about ½ a good sized lemon)
1 Tbs Ginger Simple Syrup (Recipe Follows)
1 ½ oz Gin
Club Soda
On a plate, mix 1 part Garam Masala to 4 parts super fine sugar. (3/4 tsp Garam Masala to 1 Tbs Sugar). Run a lemon wedge around the edge of an Old Fashioned or Low Ball glass. Dip in sugar mix and swirl to coat. Add 1 oz lemon juice to the glass, 1 Tbs Ginger Simple Syrup, 1 ½ oz. of Gin. Handful of ice, top with club soda, and give ‘er a stir with a spoon.

Ginger Simple Syrup:
You could use powdered ginger in this recipe, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Its much better to make a quick ginger syrup with ¼ cup of sugar, 1/8 cup of water, and three 1” diameter - 1/8” thick slices of ginger. (I always buy bags of fresh ginger, peel it at all with a spoon edge and slice it into pieces of this size. Freeze it on a cookie sheet before sticking it in a ziplock and you’ve got fresh ginger for months.) Anywhoodle, put all that stuff in a little saucepan, bring to a boil while stirring, turn down to simmer for 5 minutes. Strain out the ginger and let cool.

** I should also note that we seem to have lost our camera. So for now, I’m stealing other people’s pictures from the web and photoshopping them. Don’t tell anybody. We can’t afford a new camera AND legal fees.

You Gotta Love Philly…

2011-02-21T16:02:00.001-05:00

So, I briefly mentioned that I’m going to be working part time in the near future in Architecture as a means to pursue other things in life with a little balance and perspective. (More on anxiety induced panic attacks as a result of my job some other time… I’m in far too good a mood right now to write about that PLUS as previously alluded, the drugs help.) Anyways, in doing some career counseling, one thing that I realized is how much I loved writing and spreading my vigor, vitriol, vehemence, and virility across the Vorld Vide Net. I loved blogging not so long ago. Why not get back into doing that?

So I began a little online research about how to go about making money in such a venture, rather than just as a hobby.

Alas, the first thing I stumbled upon was this article and video. A quote:

View more videos at: http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com.

“Taking a step closer to an eerie Orwellian state where creativity is crushed in the name of “the greater good,” the city of Philadelphia is demanding that bloggers pay $300 for the privilege of writing on the Internet.

This $300 “business privilege license” is for all local bloggers – even the ones that make no money off their words.

The city doesn’t stop there. In addition to the $300 for the license to write on the World Wide Web, bloggers must pay city wage taxes, business privilege taxes and taxes on any net profits -- on top of state and federal taxes -- even if the blogger only made $11 over two years, reports the City Paper.”

Chortle. Of course Philadelphia’s archaic notions about Business Privilege Tax would be my first impediment to a new freedom and way of thinking. Alas, fret not, readers, I won’t let it get in the way and if anybody knows how to stick it to the man*, it’d be me.

(*Wait, am I the man? I get so confused in Philadelphia as to whether I’m the oppressor or the oppressee. Stupid race/economic/gender/lifestyle relations. Blech.)

I'm Back, Baby! (A How-To Guide)

2011-02-21T12:51:00.001-05:00

So for those of you who put me on their blog reader and have wondered where I’ve been for two years, I’m back! For those of you seeing my blog for the first time, just don’t look at the post dates and it will be like I never left.

How does one begin to sum up a two year absence? First step, crack open a beer. I’m drinking a Hennepin from Ommegang right now. It’s fantastic. Yes, its only 10 AM. What of it? It’s President’s Day and I’m celebrating freedom and democracy by having a beer whenever I damn well please. Perhaps the bigger question you should be asking yourself is why you AREN’T drinking a beer right now. Clearly, as the tea baggers would say, you are perpetrating your socialist communist agenda that wishes to deprive us noble God-fearing free-market rugged individualists of our civil liberties. For shame…

Second step, pretend like my absence never happened. I talked to a bunch of folks over the last two who repeatedly asked where my blog had gone. They regaled me with stories of the massive void that had been left in their lives by my silence. They mourned. They grieved. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. All of which is crazy, because my absence never happened. Moving on…

Third step, Update via Bullet Points. There’s no way to condense all the pertinent information into a blog post if I go with a narrative structure. The time wasted on telling you about the particulars of drug-induced text messaging calamities would take 17 paragraphs minimum. So, I’m opting for the list format:

*Still Happily Married, Living in Mt Airy-Philadelphia, No Kids, One Dog

*Still working at the same Architectural firm, but going to a part-time structure to allow me time for other interests. (Like Writing!)

*Still heavily interested in everything related to the “House” including home renovation, gardening, cooking, design, and entertaining. And of course the ancillary topics of city living, politics, faith and religion, and pest control. (The Stink Bug Eradication Techniques post is definitely my most popular to date.)

*Still super anxious type-A opinionated control freak, but the drugs are helping.

All of this is to say, I look forward to blogging more in the future. Coming up, a post on our newest cocktail invention, the Raj Collins.

Fourth Step, pull out the liquor and get started.

I’ll be talking to ya.

This is My Grown Up Christmas List

2008-12-16T09:19:00.006-05:00

When you grow up in a Christian home, Christmas has a meaning that supercedes materialism and presents. You spend a little more time focused on the birth of Christ than you otherwise might if the day is just about presents and food.

Of course, if you grew up in the House of K, as I did, you spend a little more time focused on early morning bloody marys and smokin cigars whilst opening your stockings and listening to Aretha Franklin turn the mother out of her rendition of "Joy to the World". If dancing and a little misting up should happen too, all the better. Most people think that Christianity and Funk/Soul and Liquor cannot coexist, but I'm living proof y'all.

(The fashion show in the youtube clip above is obnoxious, but dig the music.)

Anyways, on the materialism front, while the birth of Jesus is awe-inspiring, I'm not going to say I never wanted presents. My typical plan was to create a cross referenced list with prioritized scoring and catalog page bibliography so my parents could get me exactly what I wanted. Once I learned to use a computer, things got even more complicated.

This year, a blog I read turned me on to one item that I really want. Its too late for anyone to stuff my stocking with this and obviously this economy is ruling out $500 stocking stuffers, but fortunately One Project Closer is having a competition whereby simply writing about this "sexy fine" item enters me in a sweepstakes to win it. If I win, all I have to do is write a review, which I would be more than happy to do. (Unfortunately, I also have to link to the competition, so honestly I'm hoping nobody reads this because the more people that enter, the lower my probability.)
The tool in question is a Dewalt Track Saw Combo kit. Its got a lot of the capabilities of a table saw while also being portable. Can't do routing cuts with it, but you take the good with the bad. Anyways, I'm all about using this to cut down plywood to board up some windows while I reglaze them, making some dog gates around the house, building some small tables, helping Andy and Kim build a backing face for their salvaged TV cabinet, and a gazillion other things I can't even concieve of right now.

Anyways, Merry Christmas, only a week or so to go...
I leave you with this, which in my opinion is probably closer to what heaven sounded like on Christmas, if you can see past the 80s production values...

(I'm still kind of convinced that we'll all be black in heaven. Sigh, can't wait.)

Discipline and Leftovers

2008-12-01T21:22:00.004-05:00

Rach is off tonight at an event titled "Stitch and Bitch". Assumedly, she's learning to knit while simultaneously complaining about my tendency to use the "dish" sponge rather than the "dirt" sponge to clean up the dog's pee off the floor. (In the moment, can I really be blamed for not taking the time to analyze my sponge options? Is this mess sponge-worthy? I don't know. I'm under the "Sponge is self-cleaning school of thought", regardless of what science may say to the contrary.)

Anyways, both activities should be a good form of release for her.

With my night, I spent a good bit of time playing with the dog, not that he gave me much choice. But now he's finally gnawing on something, possibly my ipod, on the floor, and I can get to my original goals for the evening. Which included downloading messages from this awesome Acts 29 site. I'm going to load them on the aforementioned ipod and listen to these guys get all exegetical and whatnot on my way to work. Hopefully listening to sermons will also curb my impulse to swear at SEPTA employees under my breath.

I had also planned to write some new blog postings, but alas its already late. I'll just repost something I wrote for Liberti a while ago, since this particular posting is already Jesus related and we are officially in a recession now. Duh. Whatever, here it is:

Discipline and Leftovers

Discipline for most of us is somewhat of an ugly word. I grew up in a church where unspoken rules that didn’t line up with Christian freedom were imposed. As a member of the church, there was a specific checklist of duties and disciplines that had to be fulfilled on a regular schedule. It didn’t matter how you felt about worship, reading the word every night, prayer, speaking with your neighbor about God, or giving money in the offering plate on Sunday. You did it. These are all good things and things that we’re commanded to do, but were done, at least in my heart, without any joy or feeling.

So when I grew up and started attending a student fellowship at college, its no surprise that I didn’t want that rigid structure to be part of my walk anymore. I went to church when I saw how much praise God deserved. I served the church when I felt moved by God. I read the word when I needed God’s comfort. I talked to others about my relationship with God when I could see him moving in my life. And I gave my time, energy, and money to God when I had enough to spare.

The problem is that I usually didn’t have any to spare after another taxing project, the celebratory late night at the bar, and the money used to buy a couple rounds of beer.

Well, eventually I graduated. I moved to Philadelphia. I got an internship with more “normal” hours than I’d had at college. I had a decent salary. But still, the mentality of giving God what was left when the feeling struck me remained.

I’m the king of impulse buyers. Probably the worst cases are my love of food and my love of giving presents. The people who know me best know that I cannot be trusted to only buy the items written on the grocery list. I can’t be trusted to order a reasonable amount of food at the restaurant. And you are a lucky man or woman if I draw your name for a Christmas exchange.

I live from ATM receipt to ATM receipt with a vague notion of how much debt is on my credit card every month. As bad as that sounds, my paycheck would more or less cover my expenses. I always had enough to pay the rent and the utilities. Sometimes, I’d be a little over, sometimes a little under. But I never had any leftover for God. Sure, I’d occasionally put a $20 in the basket. But I’d just as easily spend that on coffee or an extra sandwich during the week and have nothing come Sunday.

So when I started coming to Liberti, it must have really been God moving my heart when I thought, “I’m joining this community, this group of people. I should really tithe to the church.” I didn’t particurally want to. I’d grown used to the lifestyle. And perhaps more importantly, I didn’t know how I was going to give a tithe to the church when I was breaking about even as it was. But I set up a new bank account for fixed expenses. I decided on an amount to give to the church, 10% of my net income, and had it deducted from my paycheck into this account. Automatically, the church gets a check from me every month.

This worked. To some, not a big shocker. Its called a budget with automatic bill pay.

What’s amazing is how God has shaped my heart AFTER I started giving regularly. God showed me how I’d been giving him the leftovers all those years. He gave me this great joy comes from offering him something first. In my new financial life, God doesn’t get shortchanged and he doesn’t get more or less depending on how hungry I am that month. And when my fiancée and I talk about planning our married budget, I get such joy from knowing that the first thing we give is to God. I started giving before he made me a joyful giver. And God has really shown up in the bottom line too. He’s provided me with more and more financially, and when I give to him, I still am able to pay all the bills and eat well and somehow be generous with the remainder.

I still play a lot of games with God when it comes to being disciplined with money. There’s far more that I can give and I make a lot of excuses to him about why I can’t. I convince myself that God really wants me to buy another bottle of wine and the best imported cheese so that no one leaves unsatisfied. I am ridiculous about “praising” him for his creation of fried seafood appetizers. And if I am loving people by buying them EXTRA Christmas presents, how could God not want that? Ultimately all these things are about “my wallet” making people happy and making people approve of me. I’m confident that God is redefining that part of me too.

But, looking back, I think the biggest thing that God is doing here is showing me that discipline is not rigid or legalistic. Its about prioritizing who is more important and who is first, him or me. My situation, whether it be how much I have or how I feel about giving it, doesn’t determine his worth. And I know that he will continue to reprioritize my heart… with worship, prayer, fellowship, money, and everything else where he deserves the firstfruits. And I just want to encourage you all to switch your perspective. Don’t give God the leftovers. Give to him first and he’ll show you that you have a lot more to joyfully give.

Cynicism and Toddlers

2008-11-13T10:51:00.008-05:00

I know, cynicism (my blog's middle name) and adorable toddlers don't usually go together. But COME ON, this is cute. (Here's the explanation.) And it's my one online nod to the Phillies parade, which I must admit was a great time. I may not be a huge baseball fan, but I'm a ginormous Philadelphia fan.

Since the little boy is the son of my friends Heather and Sean, I'm entitled to let down the facade I usually stand behind to mock children mercilessly. Will was shown on Good Morning America this morning and apparently he's going to be on Ellen Degeneres at some later point.

And now back to your regularly scheduled cynicism. Which of course includes this:

HAHAHAHAHAHA, stupid melodramatic pre-teen girls having hissy fits. Whew. Felt good to get that off my chest.

The Rohde Warrior

2008-11-11T15:07:00.000-05:00

Just before Rach and I got married, we went to The Second Mile thrift store in my ol' neighborhood of West Philly. We purchased two pieces of art deco modern furniture.

One was the dining room buffet for a measly $20 which has been mentioned before and is still awaiting stripping and restoration.
The other was a somewhat interesting little drawer unit with a really bad blue paint job for $5. We talked about repainting it and storing takeout menus inside, but never really got around to it. So when we moved into our current house, it ended up hanging out in the corner of the garage.Before tackling the buffet, which I prize for its modern lines and sweet hardware, I wanted to test out some stripping methods on the little chest of drawers. So on Saturday, I penned the dog up in the neighboring room so that he'd only get the whiff of fumes rather than actually ingesting mounds of peeled paint. I applied a coat of chemical stripper, donned my sensible rubber blue gloves, and went medieval on its a**.Only after I got past the first layer did I clear enough to see that there was a fine, and I mean "sexy" FINE walnut wood veneer underneath. I began to take more care. Once I realized that I might be dealing with a nicer piece of furniture than I'd previously expected, I searched the drawers and found this label.A little googling and we have a winner. Gilbert Rohde was a famous industrial designer and furniture craftsman in the 1930s who single handedly, by some accounts, steered the Herman Miller Furniture company aesthetic towards modernism and minimalist design. He has pieces in the Museum of Modern Art in New York, among others, and his pristine pieces go for a lot on ebay.
I'm under no misconception that I could buffer my retirement account or even buy the aforementioned skill saw with this piece. I fully imagine that I would take it to an antique dealer, much like on that Antiques Roadshow thing on PBS, and they would tell me "If only you had left the paint on, or if you hadn't kept it in your basement for a year, or let the dog pee on it that one time, it would be worth $10,512."

But it will be nice to have in the house once I clean it up a bit more. I've contacted the Herman Miller company as well as an evidently well-informed guy on flickr. (He also has a great showcase of Rohde design photos. He's an avid collector.) Hopefully they'll help me with an identification of the piece this week.

And the satisfaction that I get from knowing its not being used to store someone's crack pipes or some UPenn student's maxed out credit card collection is more than enough for me. A pile of take out menus will be a welcome inhabitant.

Pride cometh before a Fall

2008-11-11T10:39:00.005-05:00

Far be it from me to point out a speck in your eye without identifying the log in my own.

This website lists the 100 Most Often Mispronounced Words and Phrases in the English Language.

I immediately scrolled to "For All Intensive Purposes" which is my most despised distortion of the actual Phrase "For all Intents and Purposes". Smug and arrogant, I found that it was indeed listed and I was smarter than a lot of people.

But then I also noticed the following phrases which I've been screwing up for years...

Don't say: Chomp at the Bit
Do Say: Champ at the Bit
Reason: "Chomp" has probably replaced "champ" in the U.S. but we thought you might like to be reminded that the vowel should be [æ] not [o].

Don't say: Spitting Image
Do Say: Spit and Image
Reason: The very spit of someone is an exact likeness. "The spit and image" or "spit image" emphasizes the exactness.

Oh, Egg why doth you run down my face so gloppily?

They also have a list of 100 Most Misspelled Words which is a good reminder. I just screwed up license several times last night and I mess up address, friend, accommodate, judgment, and privilege so often that I have no misconceptions about spelling well.

Fall Gardening

2008-11-10T09:41:00.008-05:00

Summer is definitely gone. And the garden and the deck container plantings are past the "Assisted Living" stage and are ready to head for the compost pile. Even my strongest outdoor cold weather performers are failing.

Probably the most tragic loss is the sweet potato vines. They're the most lush pseudo-tropical thing that grows up here without major work. And frankly, the deceitful facade of their verdant green and Amazonian purple foliage is the only thing keeping Rach from rushing headlong into moving to Miami every Sept/Oct. And what's more, at $3.99 each for a plant in the spring, it becomes hard to justify having more than one per pot.

And another loss is the dark purple Coleus that I discovered this year. I'm itching to repaint the exterior of the house with rich reddish purple and crisp yellowy green tones and I'm pre-designing the front garden around it. So I'm always on the lookout for solid landscape performers that match the vision. Here's one in the front bed being choked out by leaf debris. (More on my weekend adventures in leaf blow/vac technology another time...)So I decided this year to try some procreation techniques I'd read about in a magazine. (No, not THAT. Get your head out of the gutter.) I clipped several pieces of Sweet Potato Vine, both bright green and dark purple, as well as a few pieces of the dark purple Coleus. A couple of weeks on the windowsill in vases and jars of water and the cuttings sprouted ridonkulous root clusters.

The roots were several inches long by the time I got around to potting this weekend, but I'm sure you could do fine with less.
In order to keep them presentable over the long winter and facilitate replanting in the spring, I used a long plastic window box planter with an integral water well. I then mixed two of my favorite pastimes, drinking and gardening, by using the cardboard dividers from a case of beer to segment the growing medium into transplantable portions.After planting, I've moved the pot to our sunniest windowsill in the dining room. I'll let you know how it goes.
While I can't say I'm helping the economy, I am recycling beer packaging, minimizing the despicable influence of the Home Despot, and padding my wallet for spring projects that may involve buying a skill saw. Or maybe I'll buy some Allium bulbs. Or maybe I'll put it towards next year's vacation.

Every little bit helps.

Stupid Impoverishment.

Sit. Good chromosomes.

2008-11-10T09:30:00.002-05:00

I took Makai over to my sister's house on Thursday. My niece Blair just had half of her teeth pulled out so it was a good opportunity to cheer her up. Not sure how much that happened due to the fact that I was chasing the puppy around the house most of the afternoon to keep him from peeing on anything. Hopefully she at least enjoyed watching that.

But putting him together with Petey, their full bred poodle was just hilarious. Petey's in his teens but Makai brought the puppy out in him. And the fact that they look that much alike (Makai is on the left) is just weird.

They even sit the same exact way.

Of course as I get older, I find myself arranging my body in the same weird contortions that I always thought looked so uncomfortable on my dad. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Genetics are strong.