Yet another storm a brewing and Krab With a K

 So, yes, again, it is winter, but the weather forecasters who love a good winter storm are predicting we are going to get one Thursday.  They are sure of it, this time. Very sure.

Again, another Lake Effect snow event with winds coming in at 60 miles per hour.  So what did Cookie do?   The winds are starting to pick up a bit, so it is brisk outside, and there is frost on the leaky windows.

I went to Heinens, the local better grocery store, in University Heights. 

A gallon of skim milk - which we do drink, makings for Pot Roast for tomorrow evening, and BBQ pulled pork for dinner tonight, with Tater Tots. 

We might be in for something.  The dogs, who also act as barometers are curled up and asleep.  But then again it might be their age - but pups have crossed into that 16-year-old range. 

The new boiler that we added in the spring is pumping out so much steam heat to the second floor, I have the door to our enclosed but unheated sleeping porch open to help balance out the torrid heat these radiators are putting out.  In our bedroom, one of the windows is open to balance the huge radiator in the room.   And our first floor? Figid.  But that's another story. 

Meanwhile, the kitchen is like an ice box because someone in the last 50 some odd years ago, someone had the idea that enough heat from the house would keep that room warm.  

WRONG.

The kitchen has no heat. Not even baseboard heat. But then again, it could have had it and some previous owner removed it for the dark oak banquette and table they installed and we tossed it out to the trash. 

Other than that, we're nestled in. 

In other news, Cookie is also going to be resurrecting Krab With A K blog shortly as well.  Withering Heights will be more reality-based, Krab With a K anything I choose not to publish here. 

Cookie

Our second Thanksgiving and STILL with the boxes...

 

Today marks our second Thanksgiving in the house and in Cleveland. It's much less stressful than the Baltimore Thanksgiving.  

The weather hangs over us like the Sword of Damocles.  There is a weather front bringing us this fall's to the coldest temperatures. and promises of rain, sleet, grauple, and snow, separately, or at the same time.  In my childhood days, this happened by Halloween, but these days, who knows. 

Right now it's sleeting.  Five minutes from now it's anyone's guess.

Projects coming up include a new back door to replace the worn-out 1974 door, and new storm doors. That should be happening in the next three weeks. 

As for BIG projects, that would be the kitchen and the sleeping porch off of my office. 

The sleeping porch is a full gut.  The previous owner claimed to have put $30k into remodeling the sleeping porch, but no.  Because of his handyman job - over boxed windows, window and door trim put on every which way, and his "Built-Ins" - crafted with all the skill of a five-year-old with a junior tool kit, the contracts have to rip out everything to replace the old broken, nasty, vinyl windows from the 1970s.  New windows will go in, then new drywall

The kitchen is a total gut.  What was done in 1974, and then "refreshed" in 2010, is worn out.  Open a cabinet door and it could fall off and bean you.  We can't safely used two burners on the new range because of a wall.  And because of where the sink is, we cannot have a dishwasher that is correctly vented. 

ALL Of that will get remedied. 

So we are Thankful.  Thankful we can do this, thankful to have a roof over our heads, and thankful for a plan. 

 

Way back in time...

Not far from Withering Heights is Lake View Cemetery, the place to be buried if you are someone.  Or a no one at that. Along with Cleveland's giants of history, Lake View is also home to the James Garfield Monument, the tomb of James Garfield, who won the 1880 Presidential election. 

President Garfield served only a few months in office, after a would-be assassin's bullet lodged in his body.  Being the second president to be killed in office, and a scant 15 years after the same befell Abraham Lincoln.  The nation was shocked and grieved heavily. 

Garfield's body was brought back to Cleveland for burial but was temporarily entombed in the family vault of architect Levi Scofield at Lake View while plans were made for his final resting place. The plans - grand plans at that, were set in motion for a grand monument to Garfield and a tomb beneath it. A private memorial association would raise the funds, hire an architect, and oversee the construction and it care.  Tourists were charged a nickle - a whole nickle! - to enjoy the marvel of its all. 

The picture above was taken shortly after it was completed by a private foundation.  The stone is new, clean and looking its best. The terrace balcony gave a wonderful view of Cleveland's city center, and Lake Erie

Lakeview today is still one of the better places to be buried, is expertly manicured, and in addition to being the final resting place of John D. Rockefeller, Jeptha Wade (found of Western Union) Charles Brush (who popularized arc lighting in Cleveland, and made it the first city in the U.S. to have its Public Square lit by electric arc lights), and others, also serves as an Arboretum, with beautiful tree canopy prevents the visitor of today from having this view up the road of the Monument.

How it looked before its exterior restoration.

The stone of the structure, which turned mottled with soot, algae, and molds thus giving it a mottled black look over the last 130 some odd years, was carefully and pain stakenly cleaned, leaks were repaired, and tuck pointing was done.    The interior is still good needs some attention.  The same sign ("SILENCE!) hangs on the walls of the tomb in the basement.  The martyred president, his wife and some family members are there.  The terrace with its views was reopened recently.

After the restoration. 
It also gives you an idea on how thickly wooded 
its site has become. 

But oh, that view.

The Garfield Monument, ends its 2024 interior tours today, and will remain closed until spring 2025 when it will reopen.  

 

Being baked alive, but not enough to stop the complaining.

 

Hear at Withering Heights, it is hot. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and of course, Friday, will be even hotter. 

Not even the grove of trees surrounding the 113-year-old house are making their usual dent in the ambient temperature.  

Trust me, it is much hotter than Dutch love in these parts. 

Per the Illuminating Company - the traditional name for our electrical supplier here in Cleveland - we have shut off lights, turned the thermostat for the AC unit in our bedroom up to 75 degrees, and are only running a fan in the rooms we are in. 

So as I said back on my old blog, here's the forecast for how I will deal with all of this in the coming week.

Monday: Attempting to hunker down and make the best of it. 

Tuesday: Outward verbal complaining. 

Wednesday: More pronounced complaining in the morning, followed by loud complaining laced with a cornucopia of profanity about how hot it is.   Never mind that the entire state will be complaining, but that it is I, Cookie, who complain the loudest. 

Thursday: Incoherent babbling, slumping on a porch chair, and fanning myself with a church fan from the AME church. 

Friday: Exhaustion, followed by hallucinations. Weak pleadings for a cold drink.  When I muster enough strength, I will drive around Cleveland in my Prius, the AC blasting away while laughing manically. 

By Saturday and Sunday, this should begin to abate.

Monday, the mini-split installation should begin, so we should be air-conditioned by next Friday. 

 

Be careful for what you wish for...

 

...Because wishes can come true. 

In our case it did. 

With mixed results. 

The good part is we were able to leave Baltimore, Maryland, where we were transferred to in 2012.  We gave it our best, made some friends, and lived in a beautiful neighborhood 500 feet from the Baltimore city line.  Our streets were lush with trees, and gorgeous architecture, and our house was large and very livable.

But we never seemed to fully embrace our situation, and a lot of people couldn't embrace us as a result.  They knew that we would eventually return to the Midwest. Compound that with next-door neighbors who ran hot and cold and when one of them started a scorched policy towards us, that was when we had enough. 

So then we struggled with moving back to either Columbus, Ohio - where we lived and had many friends or moving to Cleveland where Cookie, that is I, had grown up.  Greater Cleveland won because we could not afford Columbus anymore. So greater Cleveland won and we ended up not in Shaker Heights - where I wanted to return to, but one of the other Heights. 

Which brings me to our house, Withering Heights.  

It had so much charm, beautiful woodwork, and a gorgeous lead glass vestibule door.  And it sat on over a half acre of land. In any other neighborhood - say Shaker Heights Lomond neighborhood, this would have been four city-buildable lots of ground. 

And the street is unlike any I have seen.  Large lots, well-maintained homes, and a variety of architecture that spans 1900-1970. 

Yes, the house needed work - we've never owned a new or perfect house, so how bad could it be, right.  Right? And besides, people would love to come to this house and fall in love with it as we have. 

Welp, after six months, it hasn't worked out quite as we thought. It is not quite Green Acres bad - we do not, and I stress do not, need a pore key for the house, and our closets do not open to the outdoors, but it has old house charms and issues. Lots and lots of issues. 

It's far from our dream house.  I mean what the hell were we thinking.  Two men in their early sixties taking on all of this? Had we bought a more sensible house, we wouldn't be up to our necks in projects.

I now have stress dreams about how we are going to pay for this, who is going to clear out the yards and yards and yards of English ivy that have taken over the grounds. Then there are fifty trees we need to remove, and trim, and even more that need to get raked up in the fall.  In my dreams I wander around, overwhelmed, searching for something called peace of mind, instead, and in reality, we are overrun with deer.  Seriously, we have whole herds come through here.  

And Heathcliff? No, Catharine is here. Just Bambi.   

Still here is where we are and here is where will continue to be.  So I guess we are stuck. 

Far from the Shaker Heights of my dreams, we are stuck in Withering Heights.