That's what it used to look like. The sink was falling off the wall. The floor was giving way underneath us (but we didn't know it). The tile was cracked, the crumbly grout piled up in the corners. There was mildew under that lovely wallpaper border. And it was sponge-painted.

This is what it looks like now. New floor. New wall. New toilet, sink, cabinet, mirror, curtain, towel rack, and window. New caulk in the tub. It's sooooooooo pretty. The bathroom was under construction for over a month. Now, it's like a surprise party every time I turn the corner and see it.

Miracles

I filled up my tank today - needed about ten gallons - and paid $19.64. Joy.

Dad2 is here this weekend, making great progress on the bathroom. I will post a picture today or tomorrow.

Thanksgiving is on its way! Yay for a 4-day weekend!

Who Knew?

Having a house means working all the time. At least, that's what it feels like.

Maybe one day D and I will be better at keeping up with housework... As it is now, it's all we can do to stay on top of things. And when I say "on top", I really mean, "It's all we can do to keep the house from eating us alive."

Take today, for example. We were out late last night at an Over the Rhine concert with some friends. (Fabulous concert, good times.) When we finally dragged our eyelids open this morning, we were confronted with myriad opportunities as to how we could spend our day:

Cleaning
Grocery shopping
Folding laundry
Raking leaves
Cleaning the gutters
Straightening the house
Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming (I hate those chores with a passion. Not sure why.)
Errands (the bank and the cleaners)
Returning stuff to Home Depot and Menards
Continue working on the bathroom or basement

What fun.

Well, this is what I mean. It would have been great if David could have done a bunch of stuff on the bathroom and the basement. But, truth be told, the leaves had to be raked. Again. And the groceries had to be bought. I had to go to the cleaners. (This week, I managed to seriously stain ALL THREE pairs of dress pants I own - one right after the other. I have to wear a skirt to work on Monday because I will have no pants.) And the bank.

And we had a productive day. It was good. I did those three errands. D raked, did the returns, and bought us a new tall ladder so were no longer the moochers on the block. I straightened. David helped.

And then we crashed on the couch at 2:00, ate lunch, and watched dumb TV for an hour and a half. And then he disappeared into the basement (last I heard, he was trying to play some flute-thing... no idea...), and I decided to clean up the kitchen. And then I messed it up again to make an apple pie. With a brown sugar crumb topping. I'm pretty happy about that.

But look at how much on that list didn't get tackled today. Sigh.

The Heartthrob

So, in my new job I spend a lot of time visiting junior highs and high schools all over the county. For those of you who don't know, I'm now considered an "abstinence educator". I.e. I teach for a local non-profit organization. I go into schools as a guest speaker for health classes. Yes, that means I get to talk about all the creepy things you never wanted your teachers to talk to you about in school. (I also do presentations for adults, but that's something a little different.) I'm supposed to teach in Spanish, but right now, because I'm still in training, I teach in English a lot. And I love it.

I visited a school last week about a half hour from our house. It was a group of about 60 kids - two seventh grade classes combined. As I introduced myself, I jumped right in to explaining how they were supposed to fill out information on a survey we are required to do. (We're funded by the government, so we have to appease them.) It's anonymous, but the kids do have to put the first initial of their first name, and the last initial of their last name at the top. (I have no idea why.) Anyway, it's a direction that most kids have a hard time understanding. So, I explained. "My name is Brittany Yeager." I wrote it on the board. "If I were filling this out, I would mark the B from Brittany, and the R, not the Y, of Yeager. Get it?"

Suddenly a hand shot up. A boy in the front row blurted out, "Do you know David Yeager? Are you related?" Obviously taken off guard (I've never seen this kid before), I responded, "Well, David is the name of my husband... but what David Yeager are YOU talking about?"

He replied, "The David Yeager that wrote the Fruit of the Spirit song - the one from that CD - the one that leads worship at NPC."

"Yes, that's my husband," I replied, flabbergasted.

"I'm in the junior high band. I play the bass. I learned that song so we could teach the kids at BLAST." (BLAST is the ministry I teach - K-3rd graders.)

Just then a cute little brunette sitting nearby realized something interesting was going on and popped into the conversation. "Wait, what are you guys talking about? Why are you talking about The Fruit of the Spirit song?"

"Her husband is David Yeager," Bass Player explained again, pointing at me. "He wrote it."

Little Brunette gripped the sides of her desk in utter raptures. "YOUR husband is David Yeager? Oh my gosh! He is SO COOOOL!!"

"Well, thanks." I grinned. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Oh my gosh. Well, I mean, uhm, he doesn't know me." She waved her hands in front of her, urging me not to do such a thing.

"It's okay. He'll still want to know he's cool." I answered.

And he did.

Oh, stuff...

Here, folks, are some pictures of our still half finished bathroom. Since these were taken, D has managed to put another coat of paint on te walls and sand the window trim, but sadly, that's all. As you can see, I haven't written in a while because, well... there's not much to say, or show.

Since M2D2 left town what... two weeks ago? Three? I've been working late, then been sick. Vid's been swamped with music stuff: gigs, church stuff, and the album. And then he got sick, too. We earned some newlywed points, we did, taking care of one another's gross-ness these past few weeks. Everything has suffered for our lack of free time/energy, though. The bathroom, obviously. And the house is a wreck (I can actually see the dust and dirt on the floor, and the paths where our socks keep it fairly clean), everything is buried in leaves (Vid's car, the lawn, the garage...), and the laundry is threatening to take over my closet and eat my clean clothes.

But tonight is election night. I can't spend tonight doing chores. I got my hair cut, and now I'm parked in front of the TV listening to people ramble. And Vid is recording some violin stuff for the album, so he's not here to help me. (We haven't seen each other since 6:45 AM.) We'll start on chores tomorrow.

A funeral home in our town is already decorated for Christmas. There's a light up Nativity scene on the front lawn and everything. It's too soon, I say.

I was craving Taco Bell tonight. So I got some on my way to my haircut. I haven't eaten Taco Bell in years. No joke. Baja Gordita and some Mug root beer. Man, was it good.

Next post I will tell you all why David is a junior high heartthrob. Who knew?