Hey Honey, there's a Back Hoe in Our Front Yard

So, as you will recall from a previous post, our insurance company sent out a secret spy to our lovely abodes. This secret spy then identified a number of hazards (a very large number of hazards) that needed to be fixed, or they would cut us off.

Nick, my super amazing husband, has the ability to fix anything. This I did not realize when I married him. I knew he was smart and very funny, kind and creative, and good at tinkering with sandblasters and gardens. I did not realize that all of these skills (especially the sense of humor) are essential when it comes to owning an old house or two. So far, Nick fixed our plumbing mishaps; engineered a very elegant washing machine drainage system; hooked up a dehumidifier to a pump on a timer so he wouldn't have to empty the bucket anymore; fixed steps; painted exteriors; graded dirt away from the foundation to promote good drainage; re-roofed the barn; chopped down trees too close to the foundation; and taught himself to re-mortar bricks.

The one thing Nick couldn't quite tackle on his own (must to his annoyance) was our pesky sidewalk issue. We had tried to get the sellers to pay to fix it. They scoffed. We bought the house anyway. Hopewell Boro, you should know, is a "Tree City USA", which means that the town scoffed when we asked if we could cut down the maple tree that was pushing up the sidewalk. The maple tree lives on the tiny strip of grass between the sidewalk and the curb. Our land, Not our tree. Hopewell's tree. Hopewell practically laughed in our faces when we asked if the town took responsibility for fixing the public sidewalks. Nope. If it's in front of your house, you need to deal with it.

So, after meeting with 5 different contractors, we finally decided to go with the guy who could do it the soonest. We debated trying to "save the slate" which original to the house.Which, by the way* George Washington walked over to get to the Princeton Battlefield. However, we weighed the pros (oh, it's so old and pretty) against the cons (we need to make our mortgage, we need to eat) and decided to go with all cement. But we wanted to move the slate to the side of the house as a sort of patio area. Glen (see previous post) and Nick decided to try and move it on their own. Here's another con. Slate from the 1700 or 1800s weighs a freakin' ton. A FREAKIN' ton**. Glen and Nick lifted one corner up, realized that if they got anymore up they would probably get crushed by it when it fell on to them, and put it back down.

Henry and his team arrived this morning - and by 5:30, had most of it dug up. The back hoe is parked right in front of our house. Henry says they'll be done tomorrow, just 3 days shy of the secret insurance spy's deadline.

*Nick's words
** Also Nick's words

Look at Our Barn Now!

Just look at our beautiful barn!! We hired Glen, our most wonderful next door neighbor who conveniently owns a home improvement company and is a sculptor, to paint our sad, sagging, garage. After much debate on the color, we settled on classic red. Then, of course, it poured. And poured. And poured. Which meant, our garage stayed old and yellow. Then, one day, the sun came out. When we got home from work the entire job was done. From ugly garage to beautiful barn in less than 10 hours. It was as if the painting fairies arrived, did their magic, and vanished into thin air.

Our backyard has been transformed. You should come see it for yourself.