I itch like hell.
Did some volunteer work a couple of weekends ago for the United Way, and was put on a crew sent to refurbish homes near Fall Creek for a project designed to combat the gentrification going on a few blocks over. Rehab a house, sell it to a member of the community for its original cost, rather than rehab a home, increase its value, and economically drive the original community out of their own neighborhood.
Basically, we tore into some crack houses. I was given a crowbar and a ladder, and I proceeded to strip the old, rotten siding off of a house; managed to do the entirety of a two-story home in under 4 hours. The siding was covered in layer after layer of old dried paint that had dried and cracked into thick latex squares about an inch square. Rip siding off, get pelted in the face with Scrabble tiles. Occasionally have the ladder punch through the porch and plummet through to the basement as I scramble to safety. Scream as a nest of termites falls onto my hair. Step on nails, and not realize it until I take a step and a 3-foot long piece of wood flaps along. That kind of thing.
The siding was covered in ivy on one side of the house; presumably a little poison ivy of some sort was in there. My reaction's a lot more mild than I've had in years past, but 2 weeks later, and my arms still are bumpy, red, and itchy. Thank goodness for goggles and respirators, though, or I'd probably be in severe pain.
Some of the crew worked inside, shoveling garbage out, removing plaster and drywall, etc. The basement was filled with crack vials, used needles, condoms, broken bottles. And hundreds of those little plastic ReaLime and ReaLemon bottles...
It will be a nice home, eventually. Lots of room, two stories, full attic, and a basement. Real walls, not siding tacked onto a frame wrapped in plastic sheets. Hope whomever gets it watches out for the ivy...
...
School's stressful; neither math teacher speaks English well, neither is really teaching well, either. I managed a 103 on the first test in linear despite the best efforts of the teacher to throw the class multiple curveballs, but I'm fretting about the results of my first test in fundamentals of abstract math. Most of the questions were essay-style, and there's nothing more frightening than having someone grade essays who can't really read my language.
Teaching continues apace, with a number of students turning up each session. The linguistic portion of logic is almost over, and I'm thankful... it's my weak point, and it's hard for me to explain some of the concepts. Why are stereotypes a "hasty generalization" fallacy rather than a "composition" fallacy? I have no idea.
...
H.F has suggested that I quit work and go to school full-time, living with her. Somewhat tempting, although I can't do something that would look like I was using her for her money.
In more realistic, long-term things, we've begun talking about her future house-hunting, and whether she's shopping for one or two. Or a possible future family. Admissions that we're marriage-minded, though we're not at the point yet to even bandy the idea about. Still...
Did some volunteer work a couple of weekends ago for the United Way, and was put on a crew sent to refurbish homes near Fall Creek for a project designed to combat the gentrification going on a few blocks over. Rehab a house, sell it to a member of the community for its original cost, rather than rehab a home, increase its value, and economically drive the original community out of their own neighborhood.
Basically, we tore into some crack houses. I was given a crowbar and a ladder, and I proceeded to strip the old, rotten siding off of a house; managed to do the entirety of a two-story home in under 4 hours. The siding was covered in layer after layer of old dried paint that had dried and cracked into thick latex squares about an inch square. Rip siding off, get pelted in the face with Scrabble tiles. Occasionally have the ladder punch through the porch and plummet through to the basement as I scramble to safety. Scream as a nest of termites falls onto my hair. Step on nails, and not realize it until I take a step and a 3-foot long piece of wood flaps along. That kind of thing.
The siding was covered in ivy on one side of the house; presumably a little poison ivy of some sort was in there. My reaction's a lot more mild than I've had in years past, but 2 weeks later, and my arms still are bumpy, red, and itchy. Thank goodness for goggles and respirators, though, or I'd probably be in severe pain.
Some of the crew worked inside, shoveling garbage out, removing plaster and drywall, etc. The basement was filled with crack vials, used needles, condoms, broken bottles. And hundreds of those little plastic ReaLime and ReaLemon bottles...
It will be a nice home, eventually. Lots of room, two stories, full attic, and a basement. Real walls, not siding tacked onto a frame wrapped in plastic sheets. Hope whomever gets it watches out for the ivy...
...
School's stressful; neither math teacher speaks English well, neither is really teaching well, either. I managed a 103 on the first test in linear despite the best efforts of the teacher to throw the class multiple curveballs, but I'm fretting about the results of my first test in fundamentals of abstract math. Most of the questions were essay-style, and there's nothing more frightening than having someone grade essays who can't really read my language.
Teaching continues apace, with a number of students turning up each session. The linguistic portion of logic is almost over, and I'm thankful... it's my weak point, and it's hard for me to explain some of the concepts. Why are stereotypes a "hasty generalization" fallacy rather than a "composition" fallacy? I have no idea.
...
H.F has suggested that I quit work and go to school full-time, living with her. Somewhat tempting, although I can't do something that would look like I was using her for her money.
In more realistic, long-term things, we've begun talking about her future house-hunting, and whether she's shopping for one or two. Or a possible future family. Admissions that we're marriage-minded, though we're not at the point yet to even bandy the idea about. Still...