The Sad thing about Netflix

Like so many others, D & I threw off the yoke of cable television because we didn't want to pay for it and we so rarely enjoyed any of the content we were paying for.  And too many commercials.  *of course, we got cable back so that D could watch his fuhball, but they almost never aired the Seahawks (TM,copyright, etc. etc)  games anyway.  We learned our lesson there, and will be getting satellite during the fuhball season, and then we'll cancel the service over the summer.  Netflix was something we touted to our families.  We rediscovered old films that we’d loved, discovered newer shows that we had missed (Pushing Daisies!).  No commercials!  Unlimited!  BBC shows and foreign films! 

When we looked at the 60% price hike on the face of it, we were ticked, yes, but our loyalty to Netflix chafed at the idea that we might leave their service.  We use it all the time.  We don't want cable.  blah blah. 

But really, so much of the content that used to be plentiful and accessible to streaming has been yanked.  There's nothing good in there that's convenient, and classic old films and 80's greats have been pulled out in favor of obscure film atrocities like Megashark Versus Giant Octopus, that no one wants to see.  The good films are on disk rotation, but we can rent films or download content from any number of other services.  We do have it on all the time, but when we talked about it, we noticed that we don't really enjoy it.  I watched old episodes of Cheers (though I've already made it up to the Kirstie Alley seasons, so I may as well stop watching anyway).  Actually upon reflection I realized that I'm not watching it so much as turning it on only to walk out of the room.  I listen to the shows from the kitchen while I wash dishes, etc.  (I'm like an old lady, I turn on the tv for company) D watches terrible things such as Deadliest Warrior to pass the time, not because he actually enjoys it (thank god, that show is ridiculous).  So we turn it off and do something else.  We have a fantastic library.  He has aikido.  I have dance.  We have so much else to do, and why don't we spend our time doing things that we'll actually enjoy? 

We're pretty much decided that we'll abandon Netflix in September, after years of patronage.  I only pause because of the foreign language content.  For Japanese language content, its kind of the only option unless I want to get NHK on satellite, which is a totally separate satellite service which requires its own dish and its own package.  And Thai films like Ong Bak?  Or the fantastic 2046 out of Hong Kong?  Or the utterly delicious Eat Drink Man Woman out of Taiwan? Or the super fun Absurdistan?  Nowhere but Netflix has such a rich and varied catalog of foreign films available as borrowed content. 

Most everyone knows that this is only going to hurt Netflix. Studios simply haven’t learned that a percentage of a small legit sale is more money than 100% of zero dollars.  A lot of consumers are going to migrate to other services, and some are going to go back to piracy.  There's just too many other options now to validate paying $20 bucks a month on a service that has not improved, has actually gotten less accessible.  A 60% price increase? I'm still torn about the foreign film issue.  We're definitely getting rid of streaming and if not switching to a single dvd plan, we're quitting altogether and going to Amazon Prime's content. 

Kitty Transport. a New Addition (Question Mark). O-Town foods.

D & I were postponing things and putting off tasks at the new house so that we could go home and check on the cats in the apartment.  We stayed there a few days last week because we felt so bad about leaving them alone. 

Okay, we missed them.  So even though we are only halfway moved from the apartment, we decided to bring the kids to the new house.  So this past weekend, along with some furniture and almost our entire library (minus about sixty lbs of books we sold to Half-Off Books for a pittance (a welcome pittance)), we corralled the kitties and put them in the van.  We wanted to make sure that we had their belongings prepared for them when they were finally unloaded.  The cat tree, the cat bed (which is too small for either of them but they fight over it and the victor curls his body inside like a clown in a teeny car), whatever smelled home-y to them.  We hoped that would make the change less jarring. 

Max is a trooper.  His hero moniker would be Adapta-Cat.  Max's so easygoing, and he likes the cat carrier and car rides.  He just settles in quietly and watches the scenery fly by.  He got to the house and wandered from room to room, his paws tap-tapping on the hardwoods because of the claw-caps we have on him.  The only thing that gives me pause is that he goes down to the basement and begins a litany of MAO MAO MAO, until I go and call him from the top of the stairs.  I wonder if he forgets where he is, or (like the dog in Hyperbole and a Half) forgets how stairs work. 

Yuuki, on the other hand, does not travel well and never has.  He began bleating and panting crazily from the moment he was forced into the cat carrier.  The entire way there his anxiety was giving me anxiety, as his tongue was out like a dog's and his chest was heaving in and out so much I thought he might have a feline heart attack.  He yowled without letting up until we got him into the house, where he promptly settled into his post-travel routine of snobbish mistrust.  He's still startled by every little noise, jolting his entire body, and he's displaying some kitty -uneasyness.  But its only been a day.  I  think he's come through fine. 
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During the process of moving, D has mentioned several times that he wants to adopt a dog soon-ish.  I've been wary of doing so, beacuse I feel your animals shouldn't outnumber you unless you live on a farm, in which case the mere fact that some animals are taken away and eaten keeps the others in line.  But dogs are so cute, and we could make a habit out of dog walkies, which will be great for our health also, and having a dog helps you to meet your neighbors, and it might help us settle in to the community, and these are doggies that need homes, and he/she could play in the yard, and chase our kitties and ... well just see for yourself:

http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19757338  Dazzle
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19663004 Penny
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19831327 Nayla
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19831161 Sunday http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19100044 Murphy
http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/19873310 Madison

It may be somewhat of a challenge because the dog needs to be young enough to settle into a house with pre-existing feline conditions.  And the place needs to be reputable, and have programs that enable us to meet the dog beforehand, or see them interact with cats, or allow us to return the dog to the foster family if problems arise among the kids.  We want to save a dog, but not at the expense of our cats.  We are responsible to them first.

We like programs like Recycled Doggies (http://www.recycleddoggies.org/Available_Dogs.html ugh, what a terrible name).  But we need to do our homework and find a good local source. 
...

Here we are halfway through the moving process, and I totally want to sell my earthly belongings because I'm sick of moving and boxes, and "maybe I'll use that at some unforseen time in the future," etc.  We did reward ourselves with a night out of the house(s) and away from packing/organizing/renovation at Oakley Pub (AMA-ZING stuffed Portabellos, awesome craft beer list) and Aglamesis Brothers.  I think I enjoy the Oakley Pub more than Habits (seemingly better food) and much more than the Oak, because we did not have to go and look for a drink/a server/our food after ten minutes, which has been our experience both times we've tried it.  But maybe its been a fluke both times that we've had to wait a reaaaaaally long time for beers and/or food.  We'll see. 

The Perplexing Food Attic

A pantry wasn’t a “must” on my requirement list for the house, but I just love a pantry.  All of your canned and dried goods in one place.  Where’s my pasta?  Oh, there it is.  And most homes that D & I toured were pretty stingy with storage space.  The brick baby may have the most storage capability of any of the homes we looked at. 

It may not be the awesome HouseofSmith Pantry  

nor the ginormous larder at the Pioneer Woman's house,

but I'm glad to have one, so I shouldn't complain too much about the pantry. 

Oh, I could though.  After all, it’s slightly less than user-friendly.  But it has character, and it is functional, and those two characteristics are key.  It’ll be a challenge to shape things up to our needs.  Mostly because, uh, you have to kinda climb into it with a ladder, like an attic. 

The entire pantry is quite difficult to capture because once your body is inside, you turn left at the wall that lines up with the left side of the doorframe, and then there is another giant step upward again.  But the ceiling is not so tall that you can stand straight up inside of it, so it's not a room.  It's quite uncomfy unless you were very short.  I had quite an imaginative few moments in there (read on), and pictured Blackbeard's dead wives or naughty children being closeted in here like in an old pulp novel with a cheesy cover, perhaps a girl afright with mouth agape, eyes shut, and useless tiger claw hands splayed stupidly in front of her, with a a big spooky tree in the background.  Or a dark scene with a lone woman in a white nightdress.  I'm just saying.  This is what I meant by character, this thing is gothic. 

Anyway, I was given to ponder how in the world I will organize this thing to be serviceable to our needs.  And that perhaps I should consider on which shelf the Cask of Amontillado should be stored.  and I remembered something from my time in Japan.  The under-floor storage compartment that they have in kitchens. Like this.  Or this.   The food attic is nearly opposite to this.  Of course, you have to have your entire body inside the food attic in order to reach, well, anything actually inside it.  Hence the ladder. 

So back to the food attic.  It was icky and dingy.  There were multicolored stains that resisted watered bleach and soap, and the whole thing was an unfortunate smoggy yellow.  So I crawled inside and painted it a glossy white, all the while craning my neck to one side and then the other, and huddling over like Quasimodo.  You know those warnings on the paint cans that say use in a well ventilated area?  I think I killed off a few brain cells in my first bout with the food attic, perhaps why I got it in my head that it would be a good idea if I wrote a book called The Children of the Cupboard (see above).  But I got out and then climbed back in, andthen got out and got back in and brought the box fan onto the ledge that you stand on.  This allowed me to breathe a bit easier, but it was even more difficult to maneuver and I still got a headache (and I probably lost a few IQ points).  I think I'm just going to try various configurations of pantry organization as we bring over our belongings one van-ful at a time. 

The Pioneer Woman   

TheHouseofSmiths

Penguin's Japan Blog

Cask of Amontillado

Kitchen (facepalm)

The dad came down to help us*, and he showed us just how poorly put together the sink drains were by pulling them away from the sink basin with his bare hands, and then unscrewing the gaskets and piping (also with his bare hands).  As mighty as the dad is, this is something that should not have been possible if the former owners had, oh, I don’t know, used a wrench? Exclamation after (bleeping) exclamation floated up from beneath the kitchen sink to where my mother and I were putting contact paper in the kitchen cabinets.  The dad explained to us that every piece of the piping and drainwork for this sink was either installed backwards and/or was only partially assembled, causing a sprinkling of water from all the pipe fittings, and from the seal of the drain.  This I had discovered when I tried the inaugural washing of ice cube trays in the sink.  Did the former owner diy it and then just leave it because he didn’t know how badly he’d put it together?  How could he not know, the water was not a slow leak, when you turned the tap on it. went. everywhere. 

The dad spent the better part of two days in this space under the kitchen sink.  The initial leaks he fixed right away after a quick trip to Lowe’s, with new piping, new drains, putty, and personal fortitude.  Then, while admiring his handiwork he discovered another leak. A source leak due to some sort of botched soldering job.  With much exasperation he ended up going back to Lowes to buy a blowtorch, which he used to un-solder and then re-solder the offending fixture back up properly.  (I would have photographed, but I was at work at this time)

While he was under there he found an electrical source not wired into the breaker box.  He remedied that, running the wiring through the entire side of the house to the breaker box and labelled the breaker for me.  This is the only breaker switch that I have not labeled myself.  Then the dad installed the garbage disposal using that oddly placed electrical box. Then he installed our dishwasher. Did I say “the dad?”  Excuse me, I meant the Superdad.

 

Before and after shots coming soon.  It's difficult to blog without internet access at home.  Soon.   

[*the mom came too, she’s been helping me put contact paper in the drawers and cabinets, and helping us paint the kitchen]

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Befores & Afters: the Break-Up Edition

I had this big list of projects that I wanted to complete prior to actually moving into the house.  Well, that list is a lot shorter than it used to be.  Somehow everything is taking twice as long as I expected.  … That's untrue, D’s first project is a wrap.  Behold, the concrete demolition. 

(Before:  Time shifted this concrete sidewalk into a diagonal grade that sent all rainwater splooshing directly into the side of the house.  We think that directly caused the evidence of water intrusion in the basement.  We knew it would have to be broken up before it caused any further damage.)

(Raaaahr.  Behold, as D destroys the offending concrete with his mighty sledgehammer!) 

This is some fine work done by D.  He has a lot to be proud of, including the pain in his back and the blisters on his hands.  This is not the entire pile, this was a shot of the pile halfway through the process.  It's much bigger now.  Now the next step is to either make something useful out of the leftover fragments of concrete, or haul it all away.  I don’t want to pay the dump to take it, I’d rather use the pieces to make a border around some of the trees in the yard or something.  The only caveat to using them as a border is that some fragments are quite sharp.  Any other ideas would be welcome! 

Home Ownership

D and I are off and running in the adventure of home ownership.  It's a good old house.  It's also quite different.  I love it.  There is this whole new cast of supporting characters.  Some are good.  Like this fantastic maple.  Some are not good. 

This is the fossilized version of Little Shop of Horrors on the side of the house.  Little fibrous roots have burrowed into the brick.

This is what it looks like after I attacked the Audrey-II with a wire scrub brush and determination.  My determination waned after the first few scrubs.  The dust and debris that got kicked up was like a cloud that went right for the eyes and choked me up.  I had to get my old safety goggles and a respirator mask.  The wall is only a quarter of the way done, but it is not fun.  I'm not looking forward to round 2.  As you can see, these two photos are sideways.  I'm pretty much sideways at this point too. 

More to come soon.  But its been a long day, and we're all tuckered out.