She's a Project-Lovin' Woman....

Hi all, Dianne here.   (Note:  blogger is acting squirrely and cutting off text.  I apologize in advance, 'cause I can't figure out how to fix it.)  


Back when we had a "real" house in Indiana, the guys at my local neighborhood hardware store once called me a "project-lovin' woman," because I was in there so often buying supplies for whatever I was working on at the moment.  Just to prove that you can teach a 61-year-old woman new tricks, I decided to try to tile our coach house backsplash.  This was the last remaining "finish" item on our to-do list in the coach house. 


This blog may not be of much interest except to friends and family, namely those who know the saga of the Italian tiles.  For those of you who couldn't care less, go ahead and scroll to the bottom to see a cute photo of Charlie the cat watching the pet sitter video on tv.  For those of you with way too much time, continue on....

In September 2004, Roger and I went on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Tuscany, Italy with a group of friends.  We all pooled our resources and rented an Italian villa at a working vineyard and olive oil agriturismo, Fattoria de Cinciano.  What a wonderful trip!


At the time, we were in the process of remodeling our kitchen.  We purchased a series of hand-crafted Italian tiles and had them shipped to Indiana to be incorporated into our backsplash.  I held back three of the tiles "just in case" we ever sold that house.  Here's how the tiles looked in our kitchen remodel:
Italian Tiles



If you should want to see the entire finished kitchen, here's a link to the other photos: Finished Kitchen 2005.  Those of you who have seen our little coach house will recognize a few items, like the black Silgranite sink, faux copper ceiling, open dish cabinet, kitchen table and chairs, wine rack, and now, my three remaining Italian tiles.  I still have my "dream kitchen," except now it's very, very tiny!  Isn't it Murphy's law that as soon as you get your house just the way you want it, you decide to sell it and move on?  That's just what we did; we have been fulltiming now since December of 2008, so only enjoyed that new kitchen for a couple of years.

I finally summoned up the courage to go to Home Depot to buy my supplies.  While there, I noticed a product called "Simple Mat," an adhesive mat that takes the place of mortar.  I decided to give it a try, and I'm glad I did.  I'll update this blog if the whole wall of tiles decides to peel away from the wall and fall down, but it seems to be solid (so far, so good....)


I'll just describe the process I used in photo captions:

Simple Mat Cut and Applied to Wall

You simply peel the "wall side" paper off and stick it where you want the tile.

The first tile sheet applied 1/8" above counter

When ready to stick the tiles, you remove the "tile side" plastic off the Simple Mat and position the tiles. You have to be careful, because once they're on, it's very hard to reposition them.

Snipping Tiles around Switch Plate Opening

Roger did the Math to help me lay out my Italian Tiles 

Let's just say it's a good thing I married a smart man.  I'm mathematically challenged, and would have goofed this step for sure!

Ready to Install the Third Italian Tile

Grouting is a messy job!

So is wiping the grout!

Caulked and Polished!

The hardest part for me was wiping the grout haze from the little tile faces. Just wiping with a dry cloth didn't work, so I had to wait and use tile cleaner after 24 hours.  I spent a whole afternoon polishing each little tile until it was the way I wanted it.

 The mosaic glass tiles are "Midnight Blue" and have shiny copper, black, and white accents throughout the glass. 

 I found a perfect light switch plate to match the copper, but had to order the matching outlet cover.  I also had to readjust the switches underneath and use longer screws on the switch box to make it flush with the new tile.  

Now all I have to do is await my outlet cover and it will be totally finished!

One final touch:  While we were exploring Tuscany on a rainy day, we happened upon a beautiful monastery which allowed tourists. 

We could hear the monks singing as we explored the grounds. 

 In the gift shop, I purchased a small hand-crafted tile as a memento.  It had a lovely cypress tree hand painted on it; it just seemed to symbolize our entire trip, for we saw those lovely trees everywhere in Tuscany.  The little tile is an odd shape and not perfectly symmetrical, so it could not be incorporated into a wall.  It now has a home (hung by fishing line) behind my sink.  All of our things just seem to look better and fit better in our coach house.

The pet photo of the day shows Charlie the cat watching the "pet sitter video" I put in for he and Bandido one evening before we went out.  Bandido watched it for a while, but Charlie was so excited by it that he meowed and jumped up on the dash to look behind the TV to see just how to reach the darned squirrel!

Days of the Grackles

Great-Tailed Grackles

Roger here...  How to start?  Our time in south Texas is filled with activity, but the pace is slow.  Does that make any sense?  This post will give a taste of some of the things that keep us busy.  Dianne will start with an explanation of the opening pictures.


Dianne here:  I've loved great-tailed grackles since I first saw them in Coffeyville, Kansas in 2009.  They make the most amazing whistles and crackling noises.  They love my bird seed, but they're too large to roost on the feeder. 

Golden-Fronted Woodpecker

 They congregate on the ground below, looking up at the feeder and waiting for the resident woodpecker (who is a very picky eater) to come and push the small seeds out to get at the peanuts.  Now that the green jays are frequenting my feeder, they help out the grackles, too.

Mockingbird

We also still enjoy the gang of mockingbirds who hang out and mainly come for a drink. 

Green Jay

 I've had a couple of exciting additions lately, though:

  

Inca Doves 

Roger again....  I had a unique experience the other day while riding my bike at Bentsen Rio Grande State Park.  I ride several miles in the park three or four times a week.  During those rides, I have occasionally seen bobcats.  Typically, they are trotting along the road or doing one of those lion-like (I'm in charge) kind of saunters.  As soon as they see me, they bound into the brush.  


It always gives me a thrill to see them, but the interaction last week was the best.  As I turned a corner, I saw a large bobcat walking along the side of the road.  I was approaching him/her from behind.  For some bizarre reason, he did not hear me coming.  I continued approaching, trying to make as little noise as possible.  He did not see me until I was right (within three feet) next to him.  At that point, instead of running, he froze and stared at me.  


We stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, but was actually only an instant.  I will never forget those eyes.  I rolled past him about 20 feet and braked the bike.  He remained frozen for about a minute before his eventual leap into the brush.  Something I will never forget.


It all happened too quickly for me to get a picture.  It would have been difficult to get the camera out while riding the bike, and if I had tried, the movement would probably have shortened the encounter.  However, Dianne looked up a link that will take you to a photo of a bobcat that one of our neighbors, John Rosford (a professional photographer), took at our state park.  It will give you a sense of what I saw:  http://www.rosford.com/mammalia/felidae/lruf.html  Might even be the same cat!

 This was really one of Dianne's activities, but I was the guy with the camera.  We have been intending to repaint the wooden Adirondack chairs that we have on our back patio for a couple of years now.  They were originally bright red, but over the years they faded to a dark pink.  Dianne was inspired the other day, and located the red paint that we purchased last year for this purpose.  (I am not allowed to touch a paint brush.)  The photo above contrasts the new paint job with the old.  Here is Dianne, hard at work.

We dragged the chairs to the front of the coach house to be painted.  When we were finished, we liked how they looked in the front, AND the front has the only shade in the middle of the day.  Sooo.... We decided to leave them there and order new chairs for the back area.  

The new chairs arrived yesterday.  They are sturdy, heavy, and made of polywood (recycled plastic) so they should last a long time.  It was my job to assemble them.  I had some trouble finding the correct phillips screwdriver to use with the provided screws.  I wanted to use the phillips bit on my electric drill, but the box of bits is lost somewhere in the recesses of our storage room.  Finding them would be far more of a project than struggling with a hand-held screw driver.  
(See why??!!  I'd say we're making the most out of our little storage closet! -- D.)

After a longer than necessary time, struggling with the screwdriver and the screws, the chairs were assembled.  We like the way they look.  (They are comfortable, too --  D.)

Roger here again...  Remember the bit about Dianne painting the chairs and me not being allowed to touch a paint brush?   Well....  Dianne had her very own painting incident.   Since it was nearing wine-thirty and Dianne was working so hard, and because I felt like I should be doing something useful, I brought her a glass of wine.  Guess what happened!  After a few sips of wine,  Dianne dipped the red paint brush into the red wine glass instead of the paint can :-)!!!!!!  What a hoot!

This is not too exciting, but it is something we enjoy.  Every day, the half-mile walk to the dog park involves passing a farmer's field.  Brahman cattle are often grazing in the field.  Before coming here, most of the Indiana cattle that we saw were hereford or black angus.  There are all kinds of cattle in Texas, including longhorns, but the Brahmans are unique.  Evidently, they are well suited for the extremely hot summers here.  Lots of loose skin that allows heat to dissipate.  We love the floppy ears and the hump.  We love watching them graze in the field, just across the fence from the dogs in the dog park, who do not faze them at all.

The dog park here does not have a nice pond like the one in Fishers, IN, but it does have a doggie tub for hot days.  After endless trips retrieving a tennis ball, Bandido heads for the tub, drops the ball in the water and enjoys a good soak.

Soon after, he digs in the water.  Much better than digging in our yard.

Dianne here...  Activity is picking up at the neighborhood dog park.  

A group of us have set up twice-weekly "play dates," which are fun for the adults as well.  As they say, a tired dog is a good dog, so we do our best to wear them out.

Click, Bandido, & Pepper

Pretty Katie

Lady

Roger again...  In addition to dog park get-togethers, there are many social opportunities here at Retama.  Here are a few events that we have attended during the past two weeks: 

  Dianne and I enjoyed homemade bierocks, German potato salad, cole slaw, and beer at Retama's Oktoberfest party.  

I attended a couple of the men's breakfasts at Chuey's, a local Mexican restaurant (I crave the Mexican omelets). 

 We have enjoyed sampling new beers a few times with our friends, Jim and Sue, while Bandido plays with their whippets, Gabe and Click. 

We are also attending a weekly butterfly walk the month of November with neighbors John and Audrey, who are naturalists and very knowledgeable guides -- D.

Oh, and Retama has a men's organization called the Lumbermen.  From time to time the group gets together to discuss lumber (that is what we tell our wives).  Evidently, the first meeting took place in a local establishment after a trip to a lumber yard.  Since that time, the group thought it would be safer to meet at someone's house.  I was invited to my first meeting this week.  A riveting discussion of 2X4s ensued.

Dianne...  I'm enjoying water aerobics twice a week.  This Thursday morning it was too cold, so instead Bandido and I took a 5 mile walk to the hawk tower in the state park and back.  He wore his backpack and carried my binoculars and his water. Here he is at the top of the hawk tower on a very windy morning:  

The pet picture of the day shows Bandido's method of telling us it is time to go to the dog park.

If that doesn't make us smile and reach for the leash, he has been known to get "verbal" as shown in this 30-second video snippet:

Butterflies Were Free - Mission Butterfly Festival

Disclaimer: My actual outfit for the butterfly walk was shorts + tee

Roger here....  Is this a birder, OR a butterflier?  Note the sensible long pants, the sun-protecting long sleeves, the many pocketed vest, the floppy hat, the sunglasses, the binoculars, and the identification books -- all very practical for both hobbies.  One really can't tell the difference between the two (birder or butterflier) by the wardrobe.  They both look the same.  In order to tell the difference, one must make careful observations of behavior.


You see, birders tend to be a quiet lot.  They move slowly behind bird blinds and seldom speak louder than a whisper.  It is considered bad form to talk loudly, sing, or make sudden jerky movements.  You will scare the birds and they will fly away.  The above person is probably a birder.


Butterfliers, however, are an enthusiastic and rambunctious group.  They tend to yell, flagellate, run, laugh, and occasionally swear when they spot a rare specimen.  Note the rare photograph below.  We were very fortunate to snap this picture at just the right instant before the butterflier made a blurry exit.

Case in point.....   Dianne and I attended the Mission City Butterfly Festival on Saturday.  It was located at the North American Butterfly Association's (NABA) national headquarters about a mile from our motor home.  Normally, there is a ten-dollar-per-person admission charge, but during the festival, admission was free.

It is our understanding that there are fewer butterflies than usual this year due to the drought and a rare early spring freeze.  Nonetheless, there were lots and lots of butterflies.  We had some time to wander through the park just prior to a scheduled guided walk.  It was fun reading the placards and seeing the different butterflies flying around the plants that attract them.  After a careful look, we discovered hundreds of Red-Bordered Pixies on the tree that served as their home.  Cool, huh?

Time for the guided walk and our observations of butterflier behavior.  We met our guide under one of the palapas. A dozen or so other people joined the group.  Our guide was dressed appropriately as a butterflier, and spent a moment pointing out how his garb was appropriate for his hobby.


At that point, our guide behaved much like a birder.  He was calm, knowledgeable, interesting, and non-demonstrative.  He quietly led us through the various planted areas of the park while pointing out a plethora of various butterflies.  Most of them were difficult for novices such as ourselves to photograph, because they were constantly flitting like -- like -- well, like butterflies.  However, we were able to get a couple of pictures:

Guatemalan Cracker

And then it happened!  Our first glimpse of true butterflier behavior.  A somewhat agitated butterflier approached our guide with his camera.  He apologized for interrupting the walk, but explained that he just MUST know the species of butterfly that he just photographed.  Our guide politely offered a couple of possibilities, and the man left.  Not a big deal.


However, within seconds a second butterflier began shouting.  "I KNOW WHAT IT IS!  I KNOW WHAT IT IS!  I KNOW WHAT IT IS!"  Picture a guy hurdling over plants, waving his arms, with binoculars swinging like a pendulum from his neck.  He looked like he was running the 110 low hurdles at a track meet.  He landed in the middle of a planting area insisting that everyone help relocate the butterfly.  At that point, we lost our guide (for a time) as he shuffled through the knee-high plantings --- the telescopic lens of his camera moving from plant to plant, searching for the elusive butterfly.  The frenetic butterflier (the running shouter) apologized for disrupting the walk, but stated that this would be the first sighting of this species of butterfly in the United States, and that it must be found.  At that point a wildly smiling lady, who had evidently photographed the butterfly, lifted her fist in the air and shouted, "Hot damn!"  She then apologized to several small children who were in the area.

Dutifully, we scanned the area for the prized sighting.  There were many questions and comments during the search:


-  "What does it look like?", a lady asked.  No response.  Again, "What does it look like?"  The answer, "Nondescript - dark brown."  "It might have some dots on one of its wings."  (So I am looking for a nondescript butterfly?)


-  "How big is it?"  Answer, "Small."


-  "Is that it?"  "Where, where!?" "Don't lose it!"  "No, thats not it."  


-  "What is its name?"  Answer, "We don't know for sure."  "I know the scientific name, but I don't know for sure."


I thought, all this ruckus and you don't know what it is called?  


Oh well, I have to admit that watching the ecstatic butterfliers as they whooped, hollered, and flitted around (like butterflies) in their butterfly garb was great fun.  What enthusiasm.  These people truly love their hobby.  Good for them.  Selfishly, I am glad I didn't miss it.  I am still smiling.  (Dianne here:  Later during the tour, our guide remembered the name of the butterfly that caused all the excitement, an "Osca Skipper."  It feeds on sugar cane, and since there are large sugar cane fields next to the butterfly park, that is probably what it is.)

The pet picture of the day shows Bandido napping with what remains of the third "indestructible" squeaky duck that was his favorite toy.  He is able to disembowel them in record time now, so no more duckies for Bandido! 

Birding, Exercising, Hanging Out -- It's Good to be Home!

Green Jays

Hi all -- Dianne here.  We've settled back in at Retama Village, and both of us have restarted exercise routines (still trying to work off the midwestern pounds we gained this summer).  

We take turns, one of us taking Bandido for a long power walk or to the dog park for playtime, and the other can get up and out the door before the heat of the day sets in, and ride bikes, swim laps, or go to the fitness center here at Retama.  Both of us enjoy riding our bikes next door to and through Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley State Park (we get in free with our neighborhood pass).  Roger here....  on the days that Dianne bikes, upon her return, I head to either the fitness center or the pool.  Today was a pool day.  I reached my goal of swimming a mile.  Yippeee.

The state park is especially nice for biking, because there is no vehicle traffic, other than the park rangers.  R: Also, the roads are laid out in concentric circles, so it is easy to keep track of the miles while enjoying the ever-changing scenery.  

Here's my bike this morning, ready to take off for some exercise and birding:

My birding friends (unless they live here) can only drool at the recent sightings below:

Golden-Fronted Woodpecker

I didn't see all of these birds, but in addition to the green jays in the opening photo, I did see an Altamira Oriole, a road runner, and these birds at one of the bird blinds along the route:

Plain Chachalaca

2 Great Kiskadees

The chachalacas and green jays were sparring

over rights to the seed feeder --

But the green jays won out (as shown in the opening photo).  On Roger's bike ride yesterday, he was lucky to see some wood storks and a 
green kingfisher at the hawk tower.  There are usually serious birders staked out at the 
hawk tower with telescopic lenses, and they
 are
 always happy to share their knowledge and
 point out unusual birds to us novices.  Roger 
also saw a bobcat.  I saw lots and lots of
 javelina scat, but no actual sightings.  They
 were all over the place at the park the first
 winter we were 
here, but after the park flooded during the 
spring of 2010 hurricane, they are just re-establishing themselves again.

Our little spot at Retama, being right next door, also has golden-fronted woodpeckers, kiskadees, and other occasional exotics.  I'm still partial to my gang of mockingbirds that 
stop by for a drink now and then.

We also got some good clean exercise by 
washing the thousands of miles of grime off 
our motor home the other day.  I'll let Roger elaborate:

The picture above looks like yet another 
picture of our back pergola area, but its not! 
  It is actually a picture of the newly-cleaned 
side of our motor home.  Pay attention, and 
you can see the graphics of the motor home.

Saturday was wash the motor home day.  I got
 out of bed, and with dogged determination vowed that the task that we had been putting 
off for a week would be accomplished on that day.  No excuses and/or rationalizations would
 be accepted --- 


-  It's too hot!
-  We would have to skip exercise for the day.
-  We'll have to move all the furniture.
-  I'm too tired today.
-  It might be cooler tomorrow.
-  It might rain later in the week and rinse off 
    the grime -- yeah right! 
-  It will get dirty again anyway.
-  I don't want to get wet.
-  Bandido will be bored.
-  Dianne doesn't like to sweat.
-  Yada, yada, yada.


 I took the dog for a walk and assembled all 
the cleaning supplies while Dianne went on a shortened bike ride.  As soon as Dianne 
returned, the fun began.  


I hosed down each section, starting with the
 roof.  (Those colorful Texas birds tend to 
make nasty messes on the roof.)  (Scissor-tail flycatchers are beautiful birds, but I can tell you for certain that their poop is just as unsightly as the grackles --  D.)  


 I then scrubbed with soapy water, then 
scrubbed again with a wet brush attached to 
the hose.  Dianne followed by re-hosing the
 clean surface with soft water, using a squeegee
 to 
wipe off the water, then going over the surface one more time with a microfiber cloth. 
 Bandido hid under the outdoor furniture to 
avoid getting wet.  Dianne and I actually
 enjoyed being soaked.  The hot day did not
 seem nearly so hot.  It took several hours,
 but
 the results were worth it. 

Ah!!!!!!!!  The sense of accomplishment!  
Time to sit in the shade with a good book
 and several glasses of ice water.


The pet picture of the day is an older one of Bandido at the dog park with one of his toys. 
 I think that particular toy survived about a
 week before all of the outer surface 
mysteriously 
came off.  He loves plush squeaky toys, but 
has become an expert at disembowling them within 10 minutes, so now he has to make do with the indestructible types. -- D.