PASSPORT PAROXYSM

This one is about my frenzied, full-tilt hoop-jumping extravaganza to obtain my first U.S. Passport.


I'm now convinced there is a conspiracy to make the Federal Government an example of insanity or inanity, take your pick. The conspirators were probably aiming for one and achieved the other by a misprint.


First, I filled out the U.S. Passport application online. Piece of cake. Or so I thought. Apparently I had not remembered the birthplace of my parents correctly. Fortunately, my procrastination and absent-minded nature saved me from falsifying information on a federal document. This fact was the inauguration of my foray into the absurd.


Having lost the application, (I think I was under the influence of the same conspiracy) I filled it out again, and decided to verify my parents' information. Disaster averted. I must have broken free from the conspiracy's mind control. The government was not so lucky.


Having application in hand I recruited my mosted trusted comrade, Mason of Humor*, to assist me in completing the application process. Since our dearly beloved vehicle bit the dust (May Ruby rest in peace) I needed Mason to give me a ride to the Post Office. Only his intrepid driving skills could have navigated the perilous paths between the Hoops of Insanity! (also known as the requirements for completing a passport application process)


*Side note: I have beknighted Mason with this title because he makes me laugh. And the play on his name implies he is a craftsman or builder of humor. Since he inspires silliness in me, it seems to work on two levels.


So, we get to the post office. And I forgot a birth certificate. Doh! Must be the conspiratorial mind-control again. Off to my residence where my birth certificate is located. Certificate in hand, we must now go to the City Clerks Office because the hoop of opportunity (hoop seems more appropriate than window) at the post office had closed. They only take passport applications until 3pm, and it was....you guessed it.....3pm.



Frenzied car drive to Clerks office. Only after parking the car and entering the building did we find out that I didn't know the correct address to the City Clerk's Office. Fortunately, it was another government building, so I was redirected to the correct location. The passing of the buck was typical government behavior, but the accuracy was surprisingly correct. Upon arrival at the Clerk's office, we are greeted by government inspired signage. The conspirators are thorough.



This is a door at the correct address. As you can hopefully make out, the sign says Main Entrance. This is not the main entrance.

This is the main entrance, which is not specifically labeled.

Upon entering the non-Main Entrance entrance(we were not fooled, HA!), we see this sign.

It clearly says that Passports and the City Clerks office are on the lower level to the RIGHT.

The next picture is of the same sign on the left and the stairs up and down on the right side of the picture. To get to the lower level from the sign, you must go LEFT.


And once you descend the stairs, the path to the passport office is not to the right. It is a microscopicly slight bearing to the right, meaning if you went straight down the stairs and were carrying a piece of paper in your right hand, you would drift perfectly through the doorway. Such was the case for us. There we were told that the birth certificate I had was not "Certified", so I had to go to the Vital Statistics office and obtain one.

This City Clerk was also kind enough to supply us with the other requirements for completing the process. Finally, a hoop-jumpers guide! She must be trying to subvert the conspiracy from the inside. Fight on, brave hero! She even supplied the correct address for the Vital Statistics office. Apparently government likes to be accurate when passing the buck.


The hoop-jumping manual said we needed two amounts of payment, one for the Feds and one for the Clerks. The feds take check or money order only, no debit card. (What does a goverments say about itself when it won't accept payment in its own currency? Conspirators hard at work again) The clerks take cash, check or money order, no debit card. Conspirators being hard at work, I only had debit card as a form of payment. Is the absurdity setting in yet?

So ensued a frenzied drive to the Vital Statistics office during which I tried to find out if the Albertson's near the Vital Statistics office would process a money order. I called 1-800-FREE411 to get Albertson's number. After listening impatiently to the ads, I got the listed number for Albertson's. It was disconnected. Two more calls two FREE411(with advertising included) yielded a number to another Albertson's, who gave me the phone number to our intended destination. Calling that, I learned that yes, they would process a money order. So, stop at the Vital Statistics office. Another freedom fighter at Vital Statistics managed to install a debit card keypad to take my $20 "fee". I was their FIRST debit card transaction. They were still training on it. Even though it lines the pockets of the conspirators, the method by which my fee reached the conspirators must really be a thorn in their side. HA HA!


It took its sweet time, but the transaction did go through on the first try. Viva le Resistance! After 5-10 minutes we obtained my "Certified" birth certificate. Hoop cleared! Off to Albertson's. With no ATM on hand, I got to use the checkout stand to obtain cash.


Let's recap: Left work early to apply for passport. No birth certificate. Point Team Conspiracy. No time to go back to post office because they stop accepting applications at 3pm. Point Team Conspiracy. Go home, get birth certificate, get through signage maze to City Clerk's office. Point Team Humor. (We laugh in the face of conspiracy! Moving on...) No "Certified" birth certificate OR method of payment BUT a hoop-jumpers guide. 2 Points Team Conspiracy, 1 Point Team Humor. Team Conspiracy 4, Team Humor 2. Mad dash to Vital Statistics office while listening to annoying advertising and getting the run around. The advertising was a necessary tactical sacrifice. Point Team Conspiracy. Debit Card transaction at Vital Statistics office AVAILABLE AND SUCCESSFUL ON THE FIRST TRY. 2 Points Team Humor. (Viva Le Resistance!) Team Conspiracy 5, Team Humor 4. With that score in mind, the adventure continues....


One must purchase something to use the checkout as an ATM. I select two apple fritters and head to checkout. I'm told I can only withdraw $100 at a time. Amount needed: $167. Point Team Conspiracy. The $100 limit was set by Albertson's, but somehow the conspirators set the fees, so they get a point for attention to detail. Team Conspiracy 6, Team humor 4. I buy two more apple fritters and withdraw another $100. (I got extra cash because I was no longer leaving any opportunities for the conspirators to jump through their self-made loopholes and pull my hoop in after them. Hoop is made from the letters in loophole, interesting.)


Moving to the customer service counter, I obtained the money order AND cash in all the correct denominations. Payment methods obtained! 2 points Team Humor, 1 for each payment method. (We also made the customer service clerk laugh relating the idiocy experienced thus far. No point awarded but it shows we have style.) Making quick work of two apple fritters (the other two were saved for our lovely brides of course) we made the mad dash back to the Clerk's Office. Navigate Signage again. No point awarded because we already knew the way. Slight drift to the right down the stairs.

We are approaching the 4:30pm final buzzer and the score is tied at 6. In combat with Team Conspiracy, there is no tie-breaker. The only sudden death round is your sudden death(or being forced to leave work early AGAIN while bumming a ride from your generous comrade). At 4:21pm, we were served by one of the City clerks. We made our last-ditch, Hail Mary, do-or-die play for the win and related our experience to the clerk as she guided us through the final hoops.

She apologized for our ordeal (a fellow Freedom Fighter!). Against all hope, our salvation in this conflict came from our incognito comrade clerk. She said in a funny, growly, Grover from Sesame Street voice, "I didn't mean to!" Humor from Team Conspirator! Point Team Humor and the win!!!!! Team Humor wins! Team Humor wins! And the crowd goes wild!!!!!!!! The other people in the clerks office cheered. Some cried. We were carried on their shoulders to the Victory Table and toasted for our dauntless hoop-jumping efforts.


Reality check. The kind clerk took my picture and payment, the application was completed, and Mason and I toasted our own victory with a sigh of relief and some final laughs at the adventure. Who knew that dealing with multiple government agencies could bear so much ironic fruit?

My Dad, probably. He was a government employee for 20+ years. An irony all its own: He worked for the U.S. Forest service and hated to go camping. However, he managed to thumb his nose at the Man by being a computer programmer instead of a park ranger. Way to go, Dad!
His camping philosophy? "It took 5,000 years for man to get out of the wilderness. Why go back?"


I wonder if being a government worker's kid made me a target for the conspirators. Or maybe I was inadvertantly aiding the Freedom Fighters.(Viva le Resistance!) Only more encounters with the conspirators agents will reveal the truth.....or more hilarity. Its hard to tell the difference sometimes. Or maybe I just don't want to. :)

MY NEW HOBBY

I am starting a new hobby. Or resuming an old one. Take your pick. My hobby is.....drum roll.....writing a novel. I came up with a novel idea about 15 years ago. After encouragement from my Dad, I'm picking it up again. It's been a lot of fun. Hopefully you will all get to see it on the shelves someday!

THE QUOTE BOARD AT WORK

For my job, I fill out insurance surveys. Basically, insurance companies hire me to verify information about their customers. So, I talk to these customers, ask the questions specified by the insurance company, and send the completed report to the company that requested it. Sometimes we need to contact the retail insurance agent, and have them encourage the customers to call us back. They often think we are selling insurance rather than working for their current insurance company.

I didn't even know this job existed, let alone that you could make a living at it. Once again, this proves that its who you know, not what you know. I got this job because my good friend talked to his boss and got me the interview.

The questions I ask are standardized for each insurance company. Our largest two customers primarily insure construction contractors, and we perform surveys for their commercial liability policies. Well, some of these contractors are quite the characters, and have given us some excellent quips to these standard questions. These quips are the delight in our day, and I took the time to start a Quote Board to keep a record of them. I thought I would share a few. :) In the following, S = the surveyor speaking, A = the answer received.

S: What percentage of your work is residential, commercial, or industrial?
A: I'll paint whatever paint sticks to.
- Deda Gjeloshaj, Way to go Painting
(This was the original inspiration for the quote board. :) )

S: Can you send the insured(customer) a letter, telling them to contact me?
A: That's just too much customer service for me.
- Agent Jenny Melendez

S: Do you have time to complete the survey right now?
A: I'm trying to get a 600 lb. coffee table up a staircase. Now might be a bad time to talk.
- Bo Bacinett, Captain Construction

S: Do you ever work above three stories high?
A: Heavens no. Our guys have enough trouble walking on the ground, if you know what I mean.
- Sherry Smith, Pinpoint Leak Detection


S: Anything else the company does?
A: Yeah, we build skyscrapers, fire engines and high reach ladders.


A: Did I answer the questions correctly?
S: I hope so.
A: If not will you cheat a little for me?


(This next one was from a conversation with an agent.)
A: What do these surveys entail anyway?
S: Just a verification or update of the original application.
A: The actually pay for someone to do this? That tells me the insurance company doesn't trust me, which is a good idea based on some of the other agents I know.
- Agent Tom

S: Do you ever paint bridges or overpasses?
A: Nope. Too hard to tape off.
- Michael Jeffers, Jeffers, Dolan & Dolan Construction


There are more, but I will skip to today's:

From my voicemail:
A: Call me back between 12 and noon, you can probably reach me then.

From my coworker, Krystle:
S: Do you have a safety meeting weekly or daily, or perform job site inspections prior to starting work for the day?
A: No, not really. I stand over them and beat them with a shovel when they get out of line or do something stupid.

I'll fill in the rest later. :) Hope you enjoyed these as much as I did. Remember, leave comments! Or email me. Either one. :)

NEW SUNSET PICTURES!

Ok, so both of these are of the same sunset. Both were taken from my new 1.3 Megapixel camera phone (and there was much rejoicing, yea!!!!!). How cool is this: My camera has 4 different filters I can choose, this is from the 'Daytime' filter. I think I'm going to be using that one from now on. :) I think you can click on the picture for a larger view. Enjoy!

Golf last Saturday

While eating lunch at work today, I decided to blog some more stuff that I've been meaning to get to. For those who read the last post, don't worry, my lunch is NOT oatmeal. I thought I should let things calm down a bit lest the natives once again become restless and a jar of cracked wheat ambush me guerilla-style from the cupboard or something.

So, my brother and I played golf last Saturday for his birthday. We had a grand ol' time, and I've got the pictures to prove it! Ok, so there couldn't be enough pictures to capture the full grandeur of the fun we had, but you can get some of the great details here.

Let's put the following into perspective by saying that, despite my advanced age of 29, I am a neophyte golfer. Literally, I have less than 5 rounds of golf in my experience.

This first shot is of my golf ball (that I got for my birthday from the same brother) where it landed approx. 150 yards from the tee, ON THE FAIRWAY! Yes, ladies and gentleman, I kid you not, I hit the fairway. (Until this moment, I think my golf balls thought that the fairway was to be avoided, as you will see in a later shot.) Oh and lets not forget it was OVER THE POND. And it was the first shot. I didn't hit the water, I didn't hit the rough. I did about ten 'Toyota' jumps in a row, looking like I just won the superbowl.

So, being ON THE FAIRWAY, I used my 1 wood again because I was still 150-180 yards from the green. This next photo is of my ball, ON THE FAIRWAY, about 20 yards from the green. WOOHOO! Two strokes, and I'm in pitching range! It is just as likely on any given tee, that at two strokes, I haven't made it past the girl's tee(no offense ladies).

The third shot is of my ball, ON THE GREEN, in three strokes.

A two-putt, and I finished the hole in 5 STROKES. I was ready to quit, calling that my final triumph, but we continued anyway.

This shot is of a 40 yard pitch that missed the green to the right and decided mercifully to stop before the muck. It doesn't get much closer than that, especially when its flying through the air.

And this is the pond where my brother, by his own confession as bad a golfer as I am, skipped his ball across the water ONTO THE FAIRWAY! (okay, just left of the fairway, but I couldn't resist the all-caps reference again) Its a short hole, the tee is to the left (off-picture) and you shoot over the pond to the green on the right (also off-picture). My brother donated one ball to the pond in a forward and downward shot. His second shot looked the same, except instead of sinking, it skipped, hit a rock on the bank(in picture middle) and hopped right onto the grass. UNBELIEVABLE. But it was his birthday gift, so I can't think of a more deserving guy.

MY OATMEAL ATTACKED ME

My oatmeal attacked me this morning. It can't really be blamed. I think I provoked it. First, I ripped open its home(the packet) with arrogant disdain. Then, seeing my oatmeal had colonized itself into a higher organization(a hard brick of sugar in the shape of one corner of the packet) I proceeded to crush it between my fingers, sure that my superior intellect was more than a match for this little life form. This was my first mistake.

My oatmeal fought back by exploding all over the counter. This was probably the colonial oatmeal version of a fight or flight response. 'If you can't save the colony, save some of its members by flinging them away from danger'.

Having quelled said response by sweeping all the fleeing granules into my bowl, I opened the second packet. Apparently agitated by the brutalization of its sister packet, this one exploded upon opening. Perhaps this response included a mood-enhancing agent in the mixture, because I started laughing. Unfortunately for the oatmeal, this was only a temporary solution. Gathering the oatmeal for its ultimate purpose, I drowned it with water and cooked it in the microwave.

Thinking my victory complete, I ran a quick errand while I let my microwave minion finish the job.

Returning to the place of my oatmeal's demise, I found that somewhere in its life my oatmeal had read Herman Melville's Moby Dick. For with its very action, it embodied the semi-famous quote, "To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee." It had boiled over, soiling the microwave and making a mess of of my bowl in the midst of its death throes. And when I removed the lid, the steam bit me.

I can understand the desire for self-preservation, but did it really have to be vindictive?

MY FAVORITE SUNSET!

This is my most favorite sunset from my phone. I hope to be getting a new phone soon with a much better camera. Let's hope the sunset pictures improve with it! The sunsets are fine, its the picture quality that needs work.......

GROCERY STORE EXPERIENCE

I just had to relate our experiences at the grocery store. My first, and favorite, picture is both an example of my phone's terrible picture quality at very close distance and a warning to check your blueberries VERY carefully. As Becca and I were inspecting the various blueberry packages, finding the perfect batch for all manner of consumption(except fermentation, we throw them out when they start to qualify), I found one that appeared to have some spider webbing in it. I thought that was rather curious, as the webbing was unbroken. A moment later I found the spider! That would be the blond blob in the center of the picture, squished most handily between a murderous blueberry and the cruel, unforgiving plastic packaging. For reals, the barely discernible blond tendrils are its legs splayed in ghastly form upon the aforementioned blueberry. We bought a different package.

Afterward, our shopping quest took us past the protein section, where we were looking for any good deals. Becca noticed this package was very reasonably priced. Then we read the label.

Suddenly it wasn't as appealing as we first thought. Having staved off the autonomic gag reflex associated with this product, I read the subtite, emphasized in the second picture.

So, basically, this is like pork & beans! Here they throw in a heart or two so they can put "Hearts" on the package. It made me laugh because it seemed like they were trying to upgrade gross with LESS gross, if hearts supposedly taste better to the gizzard consumer. Personally, even if it were "Hearts and Gizzards, mostly Hearts" I wouldn't be jumping up and down, praising my good fortune. To me that is the same gross, different label. However, someone must love it, because they actually produce it. May these epicurially challenged individuals find solace in having at least some heart meat in their otherwise gizzardly diet.

Fortunately my wife is not one of these people. If she were, she might not appreciate my requirements that she eat gizzards out of my presence and brush and floss her teeth before she would be allowed to kiss me. This was not one of the things we discussed before getting married, so I'd say I dodged a bullet! Woohoo!

Um, life for the last long time.....

Ok, so we all agree I'm fired for not updating my blog in 3 months. If you care enough about me to forgive me, please re-read my disclaimer that I'm bad at communication. :) Ok, enough of the salving of my guilty conscience and on to the meaty stuff!

Since I last wrote, I graduated from CSU, taken two trips, and started a new job. Where do I start?

Graduation was trippy. It is still trippy. Walking around campus at CSU is familiar and yet NOT, because its not where I GO to school. It's where I WENT to school. I'm still getting over it. It might be semantics for some, but for those like me, worlds of difference hang in those semantics. Now I'm an alumnus. Weird.

The ceremony itself was fine. Nobody died. One guy through up in the back. One guy came in very late. I got my picture taken with a woman I'd never met(and whose name I still don't know), who handed me my diploma, and another picture taken after I walked off the platform. The proofs came back: BAD. My mother in law took better pictures, so if I have anything to do with it, those are the pictures my posterity will see.
Before the ceremony was just as interesting for me. I got to the Intramural gym at 7am to get ready for the ceremony. There were jokes about how we deserved to graduate because we had learned to be awake and alert at 7 in the morning. I had to fill out a survey about my experience at the college of Business before they would give me my name card. It seemed like extortion to me. How can they expect an honest survey if its under duress? Honestly, it seems a little unintelligent for a college rated 63rd in the country. :) So, I got my name card and used it like a passport to get my gown and cap. Then, donning said gown and cap, I of course set the card down. Those who know me know that when I set something down, it can be lost for all time. Not because it magically grows legs or happens to get sucked into a localized vortex, but because I can't remember where I put it. And then there is a possibility someone might try to be helpful and MOVE it for me! ARRRRGGGGHHH. Just shoot me, if you are going to move something on me. It will put me out of my misery faster. Unless you are actually going to stick it in my hands. In which case, be prepared for profuse gratitude.
It was only when we were about to leave the gym to go into the ceremony did I simulaneously realize that I didn't have the name card on me AND it was the card I needed to hand to the announcer when I walked across the stage! That's a little important! Fortunately, none of the above calamaties occured and I found it, strangely enough, where I set it. And only after 2 or 3 minutes of panic and footstep-tracing. That's practically a record! Ironically, at the same time I am feeling a little discombulated, it is pointed out that sometime in the last few minutes, each of the different concentrations in the college had formed themselves into lines to enter the ceremony. All except my concentration. That's right, the management majors couldn't organize themselves. We were milling about aimlessly, everyone asking everyone else what to do. Some of us started a very short-lived conspiracy to blame the honor students. After all, aren't they supposed to be in the know more than everyone else? Where's the leadership? Well, with the call to leave the gym, the conspiracy died, and we milled less aimlessly into rough lines. People think these ceremonies are so precise and you sit with the people that made the greatest difference in your academic career and its all very climatic. FALSE! I walked in between two classmates that I consider friends and had certainly had several classes with, and were amiable companions during the ceremony. But that's it. And most of the ceremony, since my concentration was first up, I spent texting my wife in the stands. (Thanks Becca! You rock!).

Currently, I'm not finding any pictures from graduation. I will get that corrected as soon as I can.

After Graduation, I started my job at U.S. Reports. It's a job, whose responsibilities I am currently dodging to update this. Fortunately I am caught up, so I won't be putting us in the poor house. Its paying the bills, but its not fulfilling, so I'm not going to talk more about it right now.

Becca and I went to Ragged Mountain for a partial family reunion with the Bill and Kris Potter clan. It was fun. I'm up for next year. And I will bring the Benedryl. Allergies kicked my butt! But it was fun anyway. Unfortunately I had to drive all the way back to Fort Collins by myself because Becca stayed for a week with Mom Potter, so she would eat something while Dad Potter was at Girl's Camp. Ok, the last part might be a little dramatic, but let's face it, you have to suspend seriousness when you read my blog anyway. :) So, I drove 6 hours by myself, alone, with nothing but Sirius satellite radio for company. Thank goodness for satellite radio! It kept me alive. Not kidding. I get sleepy behind the wheel after an hour or two, and it was only the sweet rock n roll sounds of the 80's that kept me alert. Oh and Goji Juice. If you don't know what it is, find out and get some. It rocks! It's good for you on a million levels, and its a natural stimulant so it doesn't have the crash like caffeine or sugar. Thanks Mom, for the Goji juice!
So then I had to spend a week by myself at home. It was awful. I made big claims how I survived as a bachelor, and I would be fine without my wife for a week. WRONG! It was terrible. I couldn't sleep because she wasn't in the bed. I wasn't eating because she wasn't there to eat with. And both of those seriously affected my productivity at work. It was awful! It's a wierd sort of compliment as to how much I love my wife and miss her when she is gone.
Fortunately, the next trip was better. I will update that next. I should probably get some work done. :)

Ok, so the web site is down, so no work is getting done. Thus, let the blogging resume!

Becca got home from Grand Junction (where Mom and Dad live), on June 23rd. I wasn't sure I was ever going to stop kissing and hugging her. :) On June 29th, we flew out to the Oakland Airport (because of Southwest's new SWEET introductory rate for service from Denver to Oakland) to visit Becca's sister and brother-in-law, Kerry and Fred Ellsworth, and their two wonderful sons. I actually have pictures from that trip.

So, at the Southwest Airlines gate, we are looking out the big bay windows, waiting for our flight, and I see: A basketball court. How cool is that? Southwest Airlines was a favorite case study in the college of business for its company morale and market performance. I don't know if this court is company sanctioned or not, but I thought it was an EXCELLENT use of resources. :) Believe me, I could see the stairs down to the court from the check-in, and I was sure I could get through there before anyone stopped me. And the basketball was sitting there. I could have shot a few hoops waiting for the plane. Its not like I would have missed it! For those who may not know, the plane parks its nose landing gear directly in front of that blue truck. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed the plane arriving!

However, people are skittish about others running through the airport these days, especially into restricted areas like the tarmac. I only didn't run down the stairs because I figured the odds were good that they wouldn't let me on the plane if I did, and then I'd cause a scene, and my family would get mad, etc. So, it was really a matter of opportunity costs. It would have been fun to play some BBall on the tarmac, but it just wasn't worth it to me for a one-way ticket to GITMO.

More to come..... :)

The latest and greatest

It's March 26th, and I am finally updating my blog. So, loads has happened since I last wrote. Becca and I went to Denver for traffic court to settle our little mishap on I-70. I'll spare you the boring details, but nobody went to jail, and our car is still a little dinged up. Fortunately, it still runs.

But we didn't want to take any chances over

Spring Break, so we rented a car to go to Kansas. We were fortunate enough to be able to travel to Wichita to visit Becca's brother and family. Most of the Potter clan joined us there, and we had loads of fun. I took a few pictures, including a couple killer sunsets. :) This first one is looking down Solar Circle, the street that the Eric Potter (Becca's brother) clan lives on.





This one is from the front seat of our rental, a roomy Ford Taurus, as Becca and I headed back to Colorado. We are headed west on I-70, and driving into the sun gave us a long and wonderful view of this sunset.

This picture of an IHOP door in Hays, Kansas. It made me laugh, so I had to share it with everyone. Notice carefully the NO GUNS sticker on the door! Are there so many gun-toting, pancake-eating customers with so little sense that you ACTUALLY HAVE TO POST A SIGN!?!?! to tell them not to bring their firearms into the restaurant?? I think it's time to close up shop if my customers brandish their firearms in public so often that I have to post a sign specifically banning guns from my restaurant.

The service was excellent until we wanted to pay, go figure! Maybe I should have started waiving a gun around to get their attention! Wouldn't that be a first? A person holding up the place so he could pay his bill! HA HA!

By the way, yes that is me in the reflection taking the picture on my phone. And no, I didn't plan to have my head as the caution sign. :)

So, today I have gotten around to posting my pictures of the small shelves I built for Becca. They are made of 2x2 posts and melamine. They weigh somewhere around 30 lbs. :) Yes, they are overbuilt! But they are quite sturdy. Anyway, the first picture gives you an idea of the construction. The second is the finished shelves in all their glory. Basically, they gave us another four square feet of counter space in our space-deficient kitchen. This was very good for us, since we like to cook, and spend lots of time there.

A sunset

Since I can, I'm posting this blog while I'm in class. I collect sunsets. They always seem to inspire in me a feeling of the Divine. I feel that nothing so beautiful could be created by accident. I'll probably be posting more of these from time to time. Feel free to use the image. I got it for free. :)

The shed - a finished roof

Hey all! This, in the background, is a finished roof. Woohoo! Not the gray one in the foreground. No. That is the garage I am standing on to take the picture of the finished roof on the shed, which is "rustic cedar" colored. This was my first roofing experience. And it was a resounding success first and foremost because I didn't fall! Yea! It was also a success because we got it on right before the snowstorm came in. Ha! Take that, snow! I learned a lot doing it, and the learning was fun, but putting the roof on was hard, leg-breaking work. And that is without falling off. :)

Framing with Dad Potter

I first felt inspired to start blogging while I have been building a storage shed with my father-in-law. I wanted to show our labors to others, and realized with my camera phone that I could document it and post it in a blog. So, I'll be including photos of the shed and some of my experiences.
Here is the shed when I first began documenting it. I actually started helping Dad (the inherited one) by finishing the foundation created by 4x4 boards. Once we got the flooring down, we used it as a large work bench to build the trusses. Then we stacked those out of the way, and started building the walls. This is all four walls up, about two weeks into the project. Yep, two weeks and this is all the building we have. However, I've learned that the building rapidly takes shape after you get the walls up.

Here we have gotten some OSB hung on the walls. The wind was kicking upwards of 30 mph and we didn't want our building to get knocked down. So rather than put up just the north wall(the broad side in the foreground) and have the wind turn it into a kite for us, we used the OSB to buttress each wall as we went. It worked out pretty well. The building is still standing. :)

And here is a view of the east wall after we've gotten the trusses up. What a major pain! Two guys on ladders with one nail gun and unwieldy trusses fighting us the entire way to their final resting place. Despite the awkwardness of the journey, we succeeded. Here we are building out the overhang. When it's done, it actually does hold our weight. It's hard to believe, isn't it?

Introductions

Welcome to my blog. This is about me.

I'm married to the best woman in the world, Becca.

You, the reader, are here because I told you about my blog. If I told you about my blog, it means I care about you. Since I'm terrible at communicating with all the people I care about on an individual basis, this blog is my first attempt to overcome that. Enjoy!