Electrical Rough-In

Over the weekend, in spite of sick kids and a lack of sleep and my own failing immune system, we (mostly) finished up the wiring on the house. Today I called to have the inspector come out. I didn't really expect that he would come out today, but although he has 'a lot of inspections today' he is supposed to be here before lunch. I am nervous.

Some inspectors are known to give you a hard time. However, I have the feeling that it is usually due to the fact that most men have a hard time acknowledging that this particular person has a certain amount of power over them and refuse to be respectful. ("Quien es mas macho?" as Judge Marilyn says.) When I worked in construction, even GCs I was warned were difficult usually ended up being nice and helpful to me because I went out of my way to let them know I wasn't there to be a pain in the ass. All that to say, since I am sure not everything is perfect, I hope he doesn't feel like we're wasting his time. It's good to get on an inspector's good side.

Sloppy map of electrical circuits.

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Momentum Killers

Tuesday was a really good day. After feeling like I was coming down with a cold over the weekend, I had shored up my immune system with vitamin C, and felt pretty good. After dropping the kids off in the morning, I set to work running electrical lines in the house. By 1 p.m. I had finished a good chunk, and was off to the grocery store before picking the kids up from school. At the rate I was going, I thought I would have all the electrical lines run by the end of the week and be ready to start wiring up the panels.

Then Wednesday hit. Joe was sick and had to stay home from school. A trip to the doctor's office killed most of the day. Wednesday night was interrupted by lots of coughing and high fever. Wednesday, tired mom I was, I  spent the day playing wii sports with my sick son and lounging around, hoping that Friday would look better. Thursday night, Zivah woke up with the same croupy-sounding cough that Joe had. And in the early morning hours, my throat started to protest, my nose offering up extra snot in support of the protest.

Dragging out of bed this morning at 6:30, I hoped that the Benadryl stupor would wear off enough for me to get Finley to school safely. So much for finishing up the electrical this week.

The Campaign Continues

Found some more propaganda this morning.
Finley has yet to actually talk to me about wanting a miniature horse. (Probably because she knows how I hate being hassled.)
Clever, that one. I can feel her strategy working.

Minis Are Fun Palls

When I went to wake Finley up this morning, I found a paper sticking out from her door frame. Written on it was a list of "important facts" that "mom mite like" regarding miniature horses.

 

After perusing her propaganda, I can't say that I am entirely convinced that we should get one, although it's hard to argue against all those hearts and exclamation points.

Checking Things Off the List

It was good to have Chris home for a long weekend of work on the house. Thursday we made a punch list of things we need to get done on the house.

One of the items on the list was installing the permanent stairs. Our friend, Doyle, thankfully came out to help. I am sure the steps wouldn't look as good as they do if Chris and I had been left to our own devices.

 Yesterday, my brothers came out to help. Mike and I worked on framing out the dreaded vaulted ceiling upstairs. True to form, I had been overthinking the angles, and Mike was able to figure out how cut the ceiling joists in just a few minutes. While we worked on the house, my mother (who was trying to get over a cold) and sister-in-law watched all the kids over at my folks house and fixed everybody lunch. They deserve gold stars and cookies.

This is what our punch list looked like at the end of the weekend. Chris used a highlighter to cross things off so we could still read all the things we've gotten accomplished. Sometimes, when the 'to do' list seems overwhelming, it's nice to look at the 'done' list and see that you're actually getting somewhere.