SRT Track Experience 2011

I put the year in the title because I have a strong suspicion we'll be back again another year.  If you don't care about cars, save yourself now and just stop reading.  This entire post is dedicated to our awesome day at the track, sponsored by Hubs' Challenger SRT8 purchase last summer.

After introductions and breakfast, we went to the first driving area via "shuttle vehicles".  And we, the guests, got to distribute ourselves however we saw fit - drivers and passengers and all!

The morning started with an Auto Cross module - two laps in a Challenger SRT8 then two laps in a Jeep SRT8.

Those Jeeps KNEEL!

"Brake in the box! Don't go over the line!"

Hubs got the 3rd fastest lap of the day!

My apologies for the crappy cell phone photo.

1st one called up - he's hiding in the upper right corner over there.

For the morning track session, instructors led us around the track, 1 at a time.  I didn't take any photos of this, and the videos are 4-6 minutes long each, so I'll skip them for now.

After the track session, we broke for lunch, then shuttled ourselves back over to the Auto Cross area.  They had set up a new course:

Two cars, positioned on either side of the tent, started at the same time, raced the track, stopped in the box where the OTHER car had started from, launched again, and finished the course.  First scoring criteria was number of penalties -cones hit, or improper stops (outside the box, or "California" stops)- and then, if penalties were even, the first car won.

I won 3 of the 4 races (this video is the one I lost!).  Hubs lost, too. :(

Then we drove back over to the track.  The new setup was 1 instructor car in front, 2 student cars behind.  We were to do our best to stay in the line driven by the instructor, and keep up.  The instructors went much faster in the afternoon than in the morning, and there was an unexpected dynamic change with the addition of another car in the line.  A lot of 3rd cars had trouble keeping up, and Hubs and I were no exception!

Lastly, I'll post videos here of both mine and Hubs' Hot Laps - a ride with the instructors as they drove the cars to the limits!

A bit of explanation about my Hot Laps: This is Instructor Johnny.  I worked HARD in the 300C trying to keep up with this man, and absolutely could NOT.  So I rode with him, listened to him, then drove again... nothing worked until my VERY last run of the day (which, coincidentally, was with Hubs behind me!), in a Challenger.  The very next thing we did after I figured out what I was doing wrong was Hot Laps.  I had spent all afternoon yelling at poor Johnny (from two cars behind) and -both when he could and could not hear me- telling him that he needed a Challenger, with the way he drove that 300C.  So when I realized he'd been given a Challenger for Hot Laps, I was sure to jump in his car and see what he could really do!

Other photos from the day:

Getting settled in the Jeep.

Pretty much what my face looked like.  ALL. DAY.

Hubs getting ready for the Head-to-Head Challenge.

Me getting ready for the Head-to-Head Challenge.

Me getting ready to LOOOOSE the Head-to-Head Challenge....

Auto Cross fastest lap winner got a ride in the Viper SRT10 Comp Coupe.

Look closely, you'll see the Viper screaming up the back hill there...

I can't describe the sound it made when it went screaming by at well over 100.

Challengers taking off for another round of Hot Laps.

A car-count of attendees.  Yes. Someone brought a Shelby Mustang to a DODGE event. :/  Oh  yeah, and that's a Mitsubishi Evo on the end, too.  And that Ram SRT10?  It's for sale.

Last picture of the day, as we headed out.

For the rest of the videos from the day, go here.

Good Riddance! ....I Think...

Well, if I hadn’t already used the title previously, last night would have been another good candidate for “point of no return.”  Since we’re at a slight stand-still in the basement (weather is part of that, though not ALL of it), Hubs suggested tearing out the drywall in the garage as a way to fill up the dumpster that technically should have been returned today.  The other option he suggested was to just rip off the band-aid and get started in the den.  We agreed on the den, as the garage isn’t really a big deal to either of us at this point – it was merely a suggestion to get lots of heavy drywall into the dumpster quickly, while the den is actually really Getting Started!  Yay!!!  And “Oh, God, what are we getting ourselves into?”  And “Here we go again.” Good riddance to this moldy, rodent-soiled, problem-filled drywall and brand-new-but-already-trashed carpet!  I think…

Now, Hubs and I have an interesting relationship when it comes to the shuffling-stuff-around dance.  He announces an area to be worked on WEEKS in advance.  I nod understandingly and enthusiastically and I am well aware of exactly what needs to be done, but I get choked up because… well, when everything that’s in there either BELONGS in there, or plain doesn’t have a place it DOES belong….where am I supposed to put it?!  So I procrastinate, and silently wait for his help and guidance.  Meanwhile, he’s silently tapping his toes waiting for me to move all MY household junk out of HIS new workspace.  And, in the past (in Charleston), it used to come to a head the day that he’s ready to work in that new space and it’s still full of household stuff – he basically starts throwing all the stuff out of that space into a chaotic mess (if I WANTED it organized, I would have gotten it out already, right?) and I’m reduced to tears of helplessness because I just didn’t know where to start or where to put it all – I hate moving things over and over and over, just shoving them off again and again – nor do I ever open my mouth and TELL Hubs that I’m overwhelmed with it or ask for his help!

Last night started off similarly, but without any anger or frustration (at least that he expressed) on Hub’s part (we have had lots of long talks and he understands the above paragraph without my having to say it now – he just sees that nothing’s moved and KNOWS it’s not because I don’t WANT it moved, I just probably didn’t know where to start).  He sweetly helped me carry out the big heavy stuff – a couch, Lil C’s desk, two TVs and a TV stand, and then sat down and watched TV with Lil C for a bit, waiting for me to finish with all the smaller stuff.  Luckily, the den didn’t really have a whole lot of ANYthing in it – I’ve known for quite some time that we’d be starting there, so I haven’t been filling it up with anything permanent – just temporary consumables, mostly.  But as he wandered away and I was left carting smaller things to the attic, I couldn’t help but let a few tears fall.  “Here we go again,” I thought to myself.  “This is the beginning of NOTHING in our home having a place of its own anymore.”  Then I’d blow my nose and stiffen up and tell myself that at least I have Hubs’ word that he’s going to try to not RUIN everything we own – just displace it – and I’d feel a little better.  Then I’d go back and pick up something else that required thought on where to best store it temporarily and my mental circus would start all over again.

But eventually, it all got cleared out, and Hubs cheerfully got to work while I went back to fixing dinner.  And, as usual, I didn’t snap a picture until he’d been working for about five minutes, enough to get it this far:

Here’s as close to a “before” as we’ll ever get!

And we found a few surprises along the way – shall we call it I Can’t Make This Crap Up: Round Three?

Hubs tried to pull off just the trim from this door.  Notice how half the casing came, too? Grrrr.

Deer Tag – I have no words. Hubs found this in the radiant heat baseboards.

More mold – thank God we’re doing this!!!

It’s hard to see, but there are actually TWO dead wires here, plus that crazy ….crossbrace?..., and a strange metal plate (far right) that we’re not sure what purpose it served.  Oh, and we can’t leave out the fact that this is indeed a HOT copper pipe that feeds the kitchen’s radiant floorboards – it’s been totally exposed since we moved into the house.  Carolyn learned early on that it was hot. She didn’t touch it all summer, LOL!  And I didn’t bother getting a picture of the totally loose outlet box that was living within this wall, too.

I actually kinda like the pattern of this wall paper.  Hey Mom, do the colors look familiar???

Obviously the paper was turned over – I flipped it for the picture… interesting, nonetheless.

And, slowly, bit by bit, the drywall came out.  Because it ties into the story later in the evening, I’ll take this opportunity to tell you that several spots in the ceiling came down with abundant amounts of acorns, candy wrappers, chewed-up insulation-turned-rodent-bedding, and rodent poop on them.  And, of course, one must stand nearly directly underneath the ceiling drywall in order to remove it.  So he basically got crapped on.  Without warning.  Repeatedly.  Oh, the glories of DIY home repair…..

All the dark spots are air flow.  Yay.

And I had to take this shot this morning:

Because the power decided to go out in our ENTIRE TOWN last night around 9:33 - and didn’t flicker right back on. (I woke up a few minutes before 4am and it was finally back on.)  Anyway, around 9pm, Hubs decided that all the drywall was out, so he would start in on the fireplace, as “quitting time” around our house is closer to 10pm.  Now, we WERE planning to keep all that brick as-is and enclose it in drywall above and slate below, but since, um, there is actually drywall behind AND above it, and some of the bricks are cracked anyway, Hubs thought it’d be easier to take down the bricks above the mantle and get ALL the drywall out.  With all the mold and other surprises we’ve found already, I wasn’t about to disagree.  Hubs had gotten about two rows of bricks out when the power went out.  I stopped shuttling debris to the dumpster and held the light instead.  (I’ll publicly use the excuse that our brand-new DeWalt flashlight is so poorly balanced that it won’t stand on its own – and it won’t – but Hubs and I both know it’s because I’m still terrified of the dark.)  So he decided to pass the time by telling me about this movie he’d just watched at work a couple nights ago – Splice– in all its sci-fi/horror glory.  Thanks, Hun.  

He continued working until closer to 10:30, since we weren’t going to get to watch any TV anyway.  Karma took her revenge on him for telling me ghost stories – he got a 2.5 minute shower in before the water pressure gave out (we have a well).  He still had soap in his hair, poor guy.  At least I was able to recover enough water from the basement valves for him to rinse off!

And so, at last, we crashed into our cold bed in our dark bedroom, plugged in our cell phones in hopes that they would magically start charging in the middle of the night, and passed out.  (And yes, we both showered this morning!)

Drywall Dust

Good morning!  Hubs and I had an interesting conversation last night and I thought you all might like to be caught up about it.  Here is your fair warning - this post is a bunch of rambling and whining, but it's supposed to be an explanation of our marital dynamic and my pretty-well-irrational fear of construction dust.

Hubs' Number One priority right now is getting the southeast wall rebuilt and termite-proofed and structurally sound again (remember the crumbling sill plates?).  His Number Two priority is rewiring The. Entire. House.  This is for lots of reasons, but the main one is safety.  He has found uncountable instances of unsafe wire abandonment and junctions - and we've only seen the basement so far!  He's VERY worried about what is behind all the rest of these walls.

Enter the conversation where I literally broke down in uncontrollable tears about seven times.  Why?  One word.  Dust.  Yeah - I can't explain it either.  When Hubs and I bought this house, he swore up and down that he'd take things slowly and not ever go any faster than I was comfortable with, and he wouldn't bite off more than HE could chew.  On the flip side, I was to TELL HIM when I was getting overly anxious about the process, and I'm expected to help him every (or most) step of the way.  And we're both holding up our ends of the deal quite nicely so far!

Yesterday, with a full dumpster awaiting removal and a basement still full of drywall chunks, I took the breathing opportunity to actually do the laundry, wash dishes, and .... well no.  I never DID get around to vacuuming.  Or mopping.  Or actually CLEANING anything.  But MOST of the basement mess is contained within the basement.  Except the tracks that I keep tracking up.  From the laundry.  From the deep freezer. From every time I go down there!  And I kept trying to not let it bother me, but in the end, during the conversation, everything came back down to the DUST and my imagination of not where it CURRENTLY is, but where it COULD be once we tear into the main level.

The biggest problem I felt in Charleston (last time we did this whole renovating thing - in a 1000 sqft ranch house with a baby from 4 months till she was 16 months) was that the dust just got absolutely everywhere, on everything.  Tracked everywhere.  And nothing was ever clean.  And I'm a rather neatfreak.  I actually can't point to a single furniture piece that we brought out of that house.  Okay, the glass TV stand, the desk that Lil C uses, and our expensive foam mattress that I refused to wait until post-renovation to buy.  That's it, though.  The couch was trashed, the kitchen table was trashed, and a lot of our furniture was "college-grade" anyway. We sold most of it on Craigslist before we moved.  So I pretty much got depressed and never wanted to be home and shrugged off the whole mess as "Hubs' problem".  Which helped our marriage IMMENSELY, as I'm sure you can imagine.  *smirk*

But not having any furniture, and moving into an apartment, and finally getting out of that horrible house that we both had awful memories of (despite it's beautiful finish), I went WAY overboard and spent money on beautiful furniture that immediately filled up our tiny new living space (960 sqft).  And Hubs shrugged, figuring he'd made a horrible mistake in our marriage and if I had decided that a maintenance-free apartment and some furniture would make me happy, so be it.  And then he left for seven months on a deployment and left me with my big beautiful furniture and my spotless apartment and our two year old daughter.  And when he got back, we were both ready to get over all the past mistakes and just move forward in our life together, to make a fresh start when we moved from CT to NH.

And when we moved here, even though it would be infinitely more difficult for him, and take seventeen thousand times longer, Hubs promised to take things one room/area at a time - starting with clearing out all of our belongings and ending with paint and trim on the walls, furniture moved back in, and EVERYTHING working properly.  One room at a time.  But Hubs now keeps gently bringing up that it would be easiest and fastest and safest and truly the least inconvenience on my daily life if we just took down ALL the exterior drywall at once, and I'm getting to be okay with the idea.  Except I've never seen him do anything but demolish a wall to rubble pieces.  And I watch drywall chunks fall to the ground and we step over them and around them and in them and we coat the soles of our shoes in drywall dust while we're clearing out the big chunks.  And we track it everywhere, cuz, I know I don't talk about her a whole lot, but we DO have a daughter, and she needs food, and juice, and the TV channel changed, and toys retrieved from high shelves, and kisses on her boo-boos, and just to plain be acknowledged once or twice during an 8-hour Saturday work marathon.  And once the dust is in the carpet (which is white, so you can't actually SEE the tracks), I'm afraid that my vacuum cleaner actually DOESN'T get it out.  Not that I really have any way to know.  And the carpet IS coming out eventually - yay for hardwood floors - but WHEN is "eventually", anyway?  This summer?  Next summer?

So Hubs took the time to explain methods to me - how he never HAS bothered to keep areas clean, but since I had already burst into tears about three times by this point, it IS possible, if I help him set up the "containment" areas.  And I told him I was willing to do that, if he was willing to actually help ME clean up at the end of each work session.

Because, while I had originally thought that perhaps looking at studs and joists and plywood floors would bother me to no end, I now realize that as long as those things are CLEAN, I don't think I will mind them.  Rather, what literally reduces me to tears at the very thought, is living with some old drywall and some studs and some new drywall, and the constant process of moving our belongings from room to room, and dust getting into E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.  So I have decided that as long as Hubs and I work really hard to keep the demolition dust down, and we actually DO remove most of the drywall things NOW, in one fell swoop, that I won't be nearly as bothered by the rest of the renovation process.  Until we get to mudding the new drywall - MORE DUST!!!  But at this point, it sounds like the time between demolition and mud-sanding is going to be over six months apart.  So we'll rip out the old drywall like a bandaid, then I'll move most everything back and resume a normal life around Hubs redoing the electrical, and the insulation, and screwing in the new drywall.  And then he'll be leaving us and taking a job somewhere else in the country, so he'll be pretty unavailable except holidays and long weekends to be doing the actual taping, mudding, and sanding (we're talking, like, summer-to-winter of 2012).

And while I won't be SUPER happy during that point, I won't be having nervous breakdowns from drywall dust, either.  Amen.

A Peek Into a Renovation Marriage

Pop Quiz:

In your marriage, whose job is it to buy the groceries?
Cook the food?
Mow the yard?
Shovel/snowblow?
Investigate bumps in the night?
Fix a leaky ANYthing?


Well, in MY marriage, the first three are mine, and the last three belong to Hubs.  But I find that whenever we start renovating, I start taking over more and more "manly" chores.  Like mowing the yard.  That started when we were in Charleston.  Renovating.  And he was too BUSY too be bothered with piddly things like mowing the jungle in our back yard.  If I wanted Lil C to play in the back yard, I was going to have to learn to start the mower all by myself.

Generally, the ENTIRE "fixing" category falls squarely on Hubs' (or should I start calling him Mr. FixIt???) shoulders.  Until today.  The Renovation Marriage mentality has started kicking in again..... I feel it.  A slow creeping of testosterone into my blood as I suddenly have the urge to feel empowered by using power tools, razor blades, utility gloves, hammers, and....well, I was going to say, and screwdrivers.  But I already use those.  "Replacing ALL household batteries" falls squarely onto MY shoulders, so I have confiscated and hidden 2 screwdrivers exclusively for my use.  (Hubs counted one time.  He has over 200 screwdrivers.  He won't miss the 2 I stole, I promise.)

Anyway, back to the story:

It all started with this:

A nearly-invisible puddle of water on the kitchen floor.

 Which led to my mentioning it to Mr. FixIt - Honey, we have mysterious puddles forming on the kitchen floor.  So he made a small 1" round hole in the ceiling one night to see if there was any water directly above Said Mysterious Puddles.  (By the way, my in-home geography SUCKS.  The bathtub is DIRECTLY above this spot.)

See the hole?

Then I SAW the water drip... drip.... drip...ing onto the floor Sunday night while Hubs was showering.  So I told him about it again.  So he recaulked the tub as soon as I had finished cleaning up.  That started a no-showers-for-36-hours clock.

So we didn't shower at all on Monday - we held out till Tuesday morning.  Hubs took his morning shower around 05:30, and I took mine a couple hours later.  And when I did, I saw this:

36-hour-old caulk, already pulling away

36-hour-old caulk wrinkling up.

I didn't know what to think.  So I called the people who made the caulk we used, and described the problem.  I had barely described the problem however, when the nice man told me that we were most likely using latex caulk:

latex caulk = not right

 When we SHOULD be using silicone caulk:

silicone caulk = right

He said if silicone had EVER been used previously on the tub, that the latex wouldn't stick, and we'd end up with ribboning and pulling up, and lack of adhesion and a tub on our kitchen table.  Ok, so that last one was just me stating my worst fear and not what HE really said...  The simple fix he proposed was to go buy some silicone caulk and try that.

_____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____  _____
Here begins The Renovation Marriage mentality kicking in (because, if you were taking notes, you'd remember that I DID say that HUBS recaulked it on Sunday):

Today, I got myself the caulk gun, some hair-dye gloves (yep, I did watch Hubs wipe caulk all over everything trying to get it off HIS bare hands), a couple razor blades, and the new tube of caulk.

Easier than playdough.

 I mean, like, seriously, the stuff wasn't even TACKY on the tub.

Once the easy stuff was off, the razor blade made short work of the rest of it.

Cut off the tip of the caulk.

I was sure to leave plenty of room for Hubs to have to cut it again later....cuz we all know caulk dries out and it's almost worth buying a new tube before using the three-quarters you already have, just so you don't have to mess with pulling out the dried-out plug.

For all the women who have never caulked.

There's a cute little stick on the end of caulk guns that have no apparent use.  This is that use.  I haven't seen an episode on "How It's Made: Tubes of Caulk", but somehow they actually manage to get FOIL inside, all the way down at the END of the long part.  So the stick punctures the foil, and life caulks on.

I didn't bother making it pretty.

In fact, it was QUITE ugly.

But when I used a gloved hand to smooth out the ugliness....

Hopefully all the puddles stop!

And we'll have a well-caulked tub.

....for a year.  Till we tear this ugly thing out and throw it carelessly in a dumpster and scream good riddance to it.  Because, really??  A SALMON-colored tub?????  But that's another post....  See you tomorrow!