Bulking up for winter

When Gina and I lived in Philly, one of my favorite spots was a place called the Standard Tap. Located in Northern Liberties, on the Northeast side of the city, it's a casual bar-restaurant that understands that "low-key" doesn't mean serving Budweiser and frozen burgers. It has a great menu, a fabulous selection of local brews, some of which are hand-pulled, and a terrific jukebox. It's the kind of place where it's easy to while away several hours (days) with friends over a few pints (lost count) and a light meal (I need to eat?). One of my favorite items was their duck confit salad: a leg of duck slowly cooked in its own fat and then roasted until crisp, laid across fresh greens dressed with a rosé vinaigrette. Pair it with a hoppy ale, a basket of fresh-cut fries and I'm in heaven.

Since we no longer live in Philly, though, I can't just whimsically stop by the Tap for my favorite dish. Recently I've been longing for some duck confit, especially as cooler weather arrives, and I needed to quash these terrible cravings. My solution? Make it myself. I found a recipe in my Charcuterie book, ordered six ducks legs and two pounds of rendered duck fat from Hudson Valley Foie Gras in Ferndale New York and went to town.

Overnight, from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m., the legs and fat cooked in the oven at a measly 160 degrees. Afterwards I stuck the entire dutch oven - fat and all - in the fridge for a few days. Last night I pulled out two legs, roasted them for twenty minutes, and lulled my system into a fat-induced coma. The meat just tumbled off the bone. True, I didn't have a hand-pulled Yard's ESA to wash it down or a basket of fries to further clog my arteries, but it was almost as good.

Squares

Next to my handy Irwin Quick Grip clamps, my favorite tool is my speed square. It's an indispensable item, especially if you're doing a lot of work with a circular saw. Cross cutting is a breeze using a speed square, resulting in lovely straight cuts, and it's also nice if you're doing a lot of 45 degree miters. Plus it's light, and when you really screw up and spike it on the floor of your workshop, the blow doesn't throw it all out of whack.

But I've gotta plead ignorance here: What's with all the additional markings on a speed square? I know it can be used for all sorts of things like rafters and stairs, but I have no clue how to read it. Math was never really my forte, and this involves numbers. It makes me, like, all confused. Anyone have any tips?

I also have a framing square, and honestly it sits in my tool bag and doesn't often see the light of day. Then I happened to read this article on This Old House and realized that you can use it to scribe nice straight lines when you need to rip a board. Nice.

Charging ahead

A few weeks ago we had several electricians out to look at the circuit that's powering the laundry room plus three rooms on the second floor. At some point in the history of this home, somebody replaced all the wiring with armored cable but left a large chunk on one measly 15 amp circuit. It's easy to overload the circuit, especially if the washer is running or, in summer, if we have a window AC unit cooling the bedroom. Crank up the vacuum and *thunk* there goes the breaker.

Technically we're not up to code, either: The washer should really be on a dedicated circuit. Since we're trying to paint and fix up the room that will shortly become the nursery, I decided now is the time to have any holes punched or trim pulled. Actually, I was hoping to have the nursery done by now, but getting an electrician to first give you a cost estimate and then schedule time to do the work seems to consume more time than I realized.

I'd consider doing the job myself, but (A) I have no experience with electrical work and therefore I'm really squeamish mucking around with it, and (B) it's not a real easy job for someone with no experience running wires. Part of the problem is that there are no common walls between the first and second floor – everything is offset by a foot or more – so getting the lines up to each room will take some finagling. We looked at running them externally through PVC on the back of the house – the quick and dirty solution – but there's enough crap running up the outside of the house and I don't need an additional eyesore, especially one in grey PVC.

Anyway, we have somebody coming in two weeks to try and knock this job out. In the meantime I've been repairing a bedroom window I broke while removing a window AC unit. The piece of plywood currently in its place looks really classy, but I need to let the glazing sit for a week or so before painting and installing the sucker. I also made some repairs to the interior of the window frame that I replaced, ummm, early in spring. That was definitely one of those "I'll get to it next week" projects that took a few months to tackle. It's not the only one.

What not to do

How many idiots does it take to change a light bulb on a light that doesn't work? Only one: Me.

On Saturday, with the wind howling, I found myself 25 feet in the air, one hand on a ladder and the other on a light bulb, trying to change a bulb that I thought was burned out. See, the outside corner of our barn has an old light fixture that hasn't worked since we moved here. I've always assumed it just needs a new bulb, and so I would constantly eye the thing and think about changing it. It's high and I never had an extension ladder that could reach that height. At least until now.

Thanks to my grandfather, I recently took ownership of an old wooden extension ladder that I thought would be perfect for the task. (As an aside, the guy has lived in a ranch home since the 1970s. What the hell does he need a 25' extension ladder for?) I've been up on aluminum and fiberglass extension ladders and the height never really bothered me, so I thought this would be easy. I waited for the wind to settle down, set the ladder against the barn, extended the sucker and made my way to the top. That's when I realized that wood flexes. A lot. I suddenly found myself its 25 feet in the air, bouncing like I was on a trampoline.

Instead of getting down, I decided to muster the courage (stupidity?) to let go of the ladder with one hand, remove bulb one, and replace it with bulb two. At that exact moment, the wind suddenly started ripping out of the West with a fury that I thought would send me flying across the driveway and into the front lawn. Luckily it didn't. I managed to replace the bulb, promptly crawled down and counted my blessings that someone watches over me.

Then I flipped the switch on the light, saw no light and cursed the fact that nobody watches over me.

Falling behind

This weekend I stepped outside and suddenly realized that, my God, fall is really here.

What happened? I had all these plans, these projects that -- with winter looming on the horizon like some battleship ready to lob ordnance at my humble home -- still aren't completed. Wah. I blame my foul mood partly on houseblogger.net. It's an excellent site and a fantastic resource, but honestly, there are people on the site that could build a house in a weekend. Mine stil needs paint. How can I compete with that? It takes me weeks to even figure out how to tackle a project, much less get it done. Grumble.

I don't think I'm alone, though. I'd bet that most of us who live in an old home or are working to bring one back to life would readily admit we’re not only gluttons for punishment, but that we're also a terribly romantic and idealistic bunch. This can be a frustrating slog, trying to bring a property back from the dead while still holding down a day job and tending to the demands of everyday life. But I really believe that these properties deserve to be saved, that they are a part of a history and a landscape that is rapidly disappearing. It’s nice to have central air and leak-free windows, to not have to worry about the next project, but in the end I’d much rather look back and say I’ve saved a piece of something.

Hopefully I won’t lose my mind during the journey.

Secret rooms

NY Times: Installing concealed rooms.

Not long ago someone in the houseblogs network discovered a secret room in their old home, but apparently it's a trend in new construction, too.