I wonder if I can fit a desk in my shower.

Sorry to make all of you picture me naked, but I assure you the mental image will only last the duration of this one blog post.

Anyway, got word this morning that my boss sold one of my new campaign concepts to the client. (Normally, I would have been there, but with the baby coming so soon, I didn't risk leaving town.)

What's interesting is that I thought up the winning campaign in the shower one morning after a few solid days of intense thinking with no results. This isn't the first time the shower's paid off, either. I think it's the fact that the morning shower is a transitional time, where Home Griner begins giving way to Work Griner.

That, and the fact that our house is an icebox all damn winter, so I always look for reasons to stay in the hot water as long as possible. Concepting seems like as good an excuse as any.

Thinking about this today, I was surprised to see this quirky item pop up in the OhGizmo blog:



Yep. That's a "shower curtain calendar." It lets you scribble 12 months' worth of plans onto your shower curtain. And while OhGizmo pokes fun at the idea, I think it's awesome.

Karen and I could use it to scribble notes back and forth after the baby's come along and wrecked any hope of quality one-on-one discussion. I could get a morning reminder about trash day, scooping litter, doctor appointments, family birthdays and early work meetings I might otherwise miss!

Oh sure, I suppose this might ruin the zen, purifying serenity of the shower a bit. Or...I might finally write that book I've been putting off.

Huzzah for home-improvement marathon.

I know it's been sleepy on the blog since the holidays. We had a great time up north with Karen's family, but I've been swamped with work ever since. I'm gradually finishing off some huge projects, but only in time to start new ones.

Speaking of big projects, this weekend looks to be a behemoth of home-improvement work. During one of this week's two massive storms, we noticed leaks popping up in our living room. I just found out a few minutes ago it's going to be about $836 to fix the entire area above the living room. (We have a flat roof, which I've honestly been worried about since Day 1.)

In addition, I'm heading into my fourth stab at installing a new sink in the guest bathroom. (The photo is of me celebrating the removal of the ancient rust-bucket sink from the 1950s.) It's going relatively well, but each night of labor ends with a new list of parts or tools we need to get from Lowe's. Sadly, I wasn't able to finish before Karen's mom rolls into town tonight, but I'm hoping to get it done tomorrow.

We're also getting estimates to install a full-sized dishwasher, replacing the one we have now, which was apparently purchased in Smurf Village. A bigger model will be quite a boon when we're washing bottles by the dozen.

Somewhere in there, I'd like to finish up the detail work on the house painting, and then there's the fence that's only stained a third of the way around. Oh, and converting the study into a nursery, complete with closet overhaul. All this, and just two months to go before L'il Griner storms the scene and devours 90% of my attention.

So....who's up for another wood-splittin' party?

I came home last night to find this monstrous, 20-foot-long branch had fallen into my back yard. Astonishingly, it missed the house, the utility cables (just a few feet away), the outdoor furniture, the dog, the dogwood and basically everything else in the yard.


While I'm happy with this minor miracle of avoided destruction, I'm not left feeling very optimistic of the longevity of the huge hickory that dropped the branch. As many of you will remember, we had a hell of a time taking apart the hickory goliath in my front yard last year. This one is about the same size, and seems to have even more branches.


I'm just telling you all this as a fair warning for when I call and ask who wants to help run the hydraulic splitter in exchange for some premium firewood -- as much as you can carry! What a deal!

Now I'm Bill's biggest fan. Get it? Fan?

The enemy: This granny-panties ceiling fan in my living room.



The hero: Bill, who earnestly loves installing fans and lights. How can you thank a friend like that? By putting the least flattering photo of him on the Internet? Don't mind if I do!



Bill nears completion of Operation ... um ... Fandango!



The final result. Is classy, no?



So what was my role in this whole affair?



Props to Dawn for properly estimating my intelligence and warning me not to burn the old plastic-faux-wood fan blades in my fireplace. Next she's going to tell me to stop grilling indoors.