Late Freeze Spoils SC Peach Crop

The unexpected Easter freeze seems to have devastated the palmetto states peach crop, a reported 35 million dollar annual production and the second largest peach crop in the nation. California is the first. I feel for the upstate farmers. An April freeze attacks bud growth, usually spelling disaster for their fruit. I live a block away from the farmers market in Summerville, and I frequent the market every Saturday morning with my kids. The opening of the market in April marks the perennial start of the growing season, and its close in October wraps up the local harvest with the traditional bounty of fall; squash, pumpkins, and corn. In the summer though, fresh Carolina peaches are always a favorite with my family. I'm convinced that my youngest can devour half her body weight in peaches. I may have to boycott those California Peaches this year, they're just not the same as stone fruit from the upstate. Although they vary from growing season to growing season, I find the western varieties not so appealing in the taste department, arguably the most important characteristic for fruit of any kind if you ask me. The California ones are clearly beautiful specimens to behold, but I'll take a dent or two for a Carolina peach bursting with flavor and aroma any day. Fruit is not unlike honey in that it takes on a subtle flavor distinction from its indigenous surroundings, and because this is obviously Gods country, our crops taste, well...divine. I can only pray that our berries held out, what kind of summer would it be without fresh local berries?

Moving up, Moving out

I realize that this blog was originally conceived to chronicle the restoration of a charming downtown Summerville cottage, but restoring a 100+ year old home is only one of my many duties. I have a large hat collection. Monday to Friday I wear a business systems analyst fedora for a defense contractor supporting the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center over on the old Naval Weapons Station. In the evenings I don the IT guy derby for my wife’s diagnostic imaging center. I keep the VPN firewall up and running and make sure that the radiology and DICOM files are being processed and archived as planned. Maintaining the PACS system should be a full time job, but I squeeze it into a few hours in the evenings. On weekends and most holidays, I put the hardhat on and work on the house.

As I described in a previous post, we purchased the property primarily as a mixed use residential-professional office arrangement. We intended to convert a large detached two car garage into a home base for our mobile diagnostic ultrasound service, and that is precisely what we did. I completely renovated that outbuilding, wired it, installed a bathroom, installed central heat and air, and built out the area as office space, but as our business grew, we grew out of the building and ended up moving our offices into our residence and redesigning the converted garage to function as an outpatient exam room for vascular and prenatal ultrasound.

The CMS (Medicare) test deposit was entered into our bank account on Thursday, so it would appear that our enrollment package is nearly complete. We will be able to accept insurance any day now. Our promotional material has arrived and we will begin a comprehensive marketing campaign within the next two weeks. What that means is that our business is growing. We will soon need even more space. After many hours of contentious deliberation, Holly and I decided that we would inevitably have to convert the entire residence into an outpatient imaging center. With some work, the building would make an ideal medical practice. After all, a local attorney operated out of the space for many years. So, essentially the front two bedrooms will be converted into exam rooms, and the parlor will be converted into a waiting room. The living room will house a horseshoe administrative area, and the back bedroom will be an executive office. The kitchen, of course will become the employee break room. The converted office outside will become a vascular lab.

In order to make this space work as a state of the art imaging center, we have to take on several large projects including building a wheelchair ramp off of the front porch. We also have to remove the gorgeous claw foot tubs and replace them with urinals and ADA compliant fixtures. We have to build the horseshoe administrative area, run the appropriate communication lines, and put sinks in all of the exam room spaces. Most of the doors will have to be widened and replaced with industrial solid core flush units. We would have to replace all of the carpeting, and install vinyl composite tile in the exam rooms. We also would need to replace the windows and cover them with attractive Bermuda shutters on the exterior to limit the sunlight infiltration and create the appropriate ultrasound conditions. Of course, I will probably hire a general contractor to tackle these projects. All in all, the layout couldn't be better, and the great part is that in the end we can deed the property over to the LLC and instantly increase the asset side of the balance sheet.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that our facility was chastised as “make-shift” on another merchant’s blog. I don’t know what this persons motivation was or even if they have ever been inside our facility. I doubt that they know the reasons behind our conscious and socially responsible decision to utilize a mixed use zone. I doubt that they know that most of the homes on our street, with the exception of one, are currently in use as professional offices. In fact, I doubt that this person knows much of anything. I have lived in Summerville my entire life with the exception of a few years while I was away in college. I was born in the old hospital, now the county services building off of Main Street. When I was in high school the US Census count said there were less than six thousand residence in Summerville. There are nearly fifty thousand now, with over half of them arriving in the last decade alone. With all these new residents comes new services, new shopping centers, and new strip malls. If there is one thing I despise more than anything else, It's seeing new strip malls detracting from our truly remarkable landscape. Don’t get me wrong, as a small business owner; I’m clearly not against growth. I just think it’s a shame to build new strip malls when so many existing ones are so anemically vacant.

In order to maintain the integrity of the town center, people need to live where they work. Otherwise you don’t have heterogeneous sustainable growth, you have sprawl. No one wants sprawl. Anyway, a note to the uninformed: Our decision to live and work from our home was not based on financial reasons, or any other reason that you might dream up for that matter, rather it was based on a humble attempt to revitalize a part of our beloved community; a community that is being threatened by the very irresponsible development you operate your own business from. Get a life. Get informed before you feel the need to comment on something you obviously know nothing about.

Thoughts on Ultrasound

With South Carolinas' proposed ultrasound bill making headlines nationally, I thought I’d chime in on the business of ultrasounds in general...while the subject was still at arms reach. I feel uniquely qualified to comment on ultrasound since my better half operates an independent diagnostic testing facility, or IDTF, specializing specifically in the modality. Her facility offers both full diagnostics as well as 3D/4D limited diagnostic/elective ultrasounds.

Elective keepsake ultrasound facilities started appearing around the country in the late 1990’s, when ultrasound technology made the leap from grainy single-slice two dimensional renderings to volumetric three dimensional images that generated incredibly life-like images of babies in utero. We’ve all seen the commercials. These keepsake ultrasound places use the new 3D and 4D technology to provide expecting parents an exciting preview of their baby with detailed graphic image quality and motion.

My wife is an ARDMS registered sonographer and registered vascular technologist(RVT). She chaired the Diagnostic Medical Sonography program at our local community college, first as its clinical coordinator and then as the Program Director. She started the 3D-4D elective center three years ago. I wont hesitate to say that perhaps we viewed the world with rose colored glasses back then. The endeavor nearly broke us. The whole starting a business thing was exhaustingly hard work, and needless to say, although it has been what one would consider successful, it did not go as well as we had imagined it would in the sense that it failed to produce that elusive sense of fulfillment often associated with an entrepreneurial spirit. If you're a professional in the medical community in the Holy City you know that the community itself is holier than thou...both tight-knit and conservative by nature. So, for every minute of positive publicity she managed to generate, it was equally matched with two minutes of the negative variety. She only saw a handful of clients her first month despite aggressive advertising and a costly professional marketing campaign. She had essentially been black-listed by the establishment.

She started this business out of sheer passion and a love for the profession, and by stripping away the bureaucracy that has become ubiquitous in our health care delivery system, she could allow women access to the latest applications and technology while still maintaining a small, patient-focused atmosphere. After all, these services wouldn’t be available if there wasn’t a demand for them, and 3D ultrasound is truly a patient driven service. 2D ultrasound on the other hand, when operated by qualified sonographers is quite sufficient for obtaining clinical indications. Interestingly enough, very few CPT codes exist for 3D procedures, which means that reimbursements are the same for 2D as they are for its more desirable 3D cousin (desirable from the parent’s perspective that is).

So, for the short term at least, these entertainment businesses will thrive, and as well they should…because there is a demand, right? Not so fast. After three agonizing years in the elective ultrasound business, all the while kicking and scratching to preserve what was left of her professional image while fighting for every client, the handwriting was quietly etched on the wall. It is only a matter of time before the elective ultrasound industry is regulated completely out of business, but before that is allowed to happen, technology will catch up with it and drive the final nails into its coffin. I used this analogy with my son: "Why would you pre-order an x-box for $600 when you have a perfectly good play-station? You don't need the x-box, you simply want the x-box...and if you're patient, you can buy it next year for $350." The same holds true for these new ultrasound machines. Right now, Doctors don't need them, but as the technology advances, the new machines will become more affordable and rapidly replace the older units currently found in every OB-GYN office, thereby eliminating the demand for boutique ultrasounds altogether. In fact, there is convincing evidence that this trend has already began to manifest itself in the Lowcountry, and if you need further proof that self-refer is a tough row to hoe, take a look at what happened to Prevecare east of the Cooper a few years back.
My wife’s own company just purchased a brand new 3D ultrasound machine that is more portable, more powerful, and cost about half of what her first unit did…Now don’t get me wrong, it was still outrageously expensive, but my point is that they are now well within the reach of most private practices. Seeing that the handwriting was indeed on the proverbial wall, she felt it was time to start transitioning out of the elective ultrasound business and into the mainstream medical market. We needed to enroll in Medicare as a certified provider, begin accepting insurance, hire a physician, and contract with a radiology service to interpret the studies. She’ll still provide 3D ultrasound, it just means that we’ll be marketing to the doctors for referrals as opposed to marketing to the general public, but it also means an ADA approved facility, wider doors, wheelchair accessible ramps; grab rails, sinks in every exam room, the whole nine yards. More overhead? Absolutely. More regulatory oversight? Absolutely. Brighter future? Undoubtedly. One thing we will miss though is the 100% reimbursement we enjoy with the self refer work…a traditional provider only collects on about sixty percent of what is billed. Now I understand why they bitch so much.

So for all the moms-to-be out there seeking those keepsake ultrasounds...Do it the right way. Do it the safe way. Let your doctor know you want to have your diagnostic exam performed in a relaxing, patient focused environment, where the 3D pictures are complementary. He'll get a full report from our board certified in-state radiologist, we'll bill your insurance, and you can invite your family to share the experience. You'll leave with reassurance instead of a kitchen magnet and a false sense of security. We’ll keep you posted on the transformation.

Happy as Clams

When I was a younger man, maybe twenty-one or so, I was working a manufacturing job at a local plant. I had spent a couple of years in college, but had failed to realize that majoring in art history didn’t typically open that job door in the Deep South. Fortunately, my best friend’s mother ran one of those temporary labor joints. They had a big van and would drive around town picking up day labor bound for a variety of odd jobs, usually loading shipping containers out at the docks or sorting tomatoes at the packing sheds on Johns Island, either way, the work was usually hard and the pay was usually lame. Because of our inside connection, it was Randy and I who landed the good jobs…or the best of the crap, depending on how you looked at it. Occasionally the jobs even had a benefits package of sorts; after all, there was that one stint with the refrigeration company where we got to service AC units in the girls dormitory at the College of Charleston.

On this particular assignment though, I was tasked with steam cleaning big diesel engines that had been shipped back in to the plant due to various warranty claims. They were from dozers, log skidders, and farm equipment of all kinds, but they always came covered with mud and grease, sometimes so thick that it was hard to tell they were engines at all. We had to clean them before the quality technicians could evaluate the claims, although many times it was quite obvious judging from those gaping holes in the core, that often the engines in question had run shy of oil and thrown a rod or two as a result. They came shipped in heavy gauge wire baskets and a forklift would drop them off every hour on the hour, lining them up for cleaning truckloads at a time; all day long. We wore rubber boots, rubber aprons, and a combination ear muff face shield thingy. Needless to say, I hated the job.

The incessant dampness had eroded away the tips of my fingers, or maybe it was the caustic solution they used to break up the grease. Either way, a couple of weeks into the work I got a liberating phone call from Randy’s mom paroling me from any further Chinese water torture. It seems that one of the larger and more sophisticated manufacturing plants in the area had several openings, and lucky for us, it was their policy to always hire temporary labor first, apparently so they could kick the tires before committing to permanent employment. The pay was much better and the benefits package consisted of much more than any sorority ogling opportunity. I would have to keep my nose clean for a few months, pass a drug screening, and of course…take a physical.

Ok, so here’s the point where you say “he thought he slipped that pass a drug screen thing on by us”. No… wrong. Guess again. It was the take a physical thing that sank me. You see, I had, and still have to some degree, a debilitating fear of needles. If this physical meant that I would have to give a blood sample, then I would surely die from inhaling industrial strength easy-off and over hydration. I didn’t apply for the job.

Now, seeing as we lived in a small town it didn’t take long for Randy’s mom to call my mother, who in turn called my dad, who practically dragged me to that office to turn in my application. I think my dad really wanted me out of the house more than he wanted me having that job. I often look back to find discomfort in the fact that my folks prodded me more to apply for that factory job than they did for me to stay in college.

Weeks went by without a word and I had completely forgotten about the job when I got a postcard in the mail informing me that I and nineteen others had been selected for employment. Randy was not one of them. To this day I’m not sure why I was selected and he wasn’t. Although he said it didn’t change anything, I could tell that he resented me for it and things were never the same between us afterwards. After a series of interviews I was told that I would start on second shift in three weeks, providing the drug test and physical came back in order.

The drug screening and physical actually took place in the same office, an industrial medicine facility that seemed to specialized in denying carpel tunnel claims, spine pain, and neck injuries of any kind presented to them by employees of the plant. These guys were hired guns, not your typical compassionate medical staff. Since I was still gainfully employed steam cleaning engines, I couldn’t take time off to go take a physical, mostly because I didn’t want to take time off to go take a physical, so I scheduled it during my lunch break. Although I only got a half hour for lunch, I was able to finagle an hour out of my foreman in order to “go to the DMV”.

I had worked myself into a knot of anxiety by noon. I had reasoned that since I had to give a urine sample, I should hold what little I had so I wouldn’t have to go through the water drinking ritual once I got to the doctors office, and since it was scheduled during my lunch break, I didn’t get to eat. On the way over I realized that I really, really had to pee. By the time I arrived I was floating, I had to go so bad that it literally hurt. Of course, the office was packed. I went straight to the sliding window at the front counter and explained my situation. I told the receptionist that I was there for an employment physical and drug screening, and that I really had to use the restroom and that if she would be so kind as to provide me with the little container I could go ahead and provide my sample.

If you can imagine what a bank teller looks like when someone slips her a note that reads “Stay Calm, Your Being Robbed”, that precisely describes the expression on the receptionist's face. Apparently some people, guilty people seeking employment that is; try to fool the drug screens in any number of unscrupulous ways. They must have had one of those hidden panic buttons like a teller too because the entire lot of ladies behind the counter sprung into action like defacto DEA agents. I was told that I would have to wait my turn. I was escorted to a seat and handed a clipboard. Every eye in the room was on me and I still had to pee like a race horse.

I waited a painful fifteen minutes, defiant at this point; I agonizingly awaited my name to be called, when alas! Glory be to God, the door open and St Peter called me back. The nurse was nice. She was tall, dark haired, and wore cute designer glasses. I immediately explained my circumstance once again, but it had appeared that the Nazis at the front counter had gotten to her as well. She said, “Just hop up here on the scale and let me get your height and weight and we’ll get right to that sample in just a minute”. I swear, I was nauseated from near bladder eruption and low blood sugar from skipping lunch, but I had come too far to turn back now. I had to stick it out. After she had my proportions recorded, I eagerly asked for my sample cup yet again. “We’re just going to draw a little blood then we’ll be all done and you can go give your sample”. Fine. Did I mention I had a needle phobia?

Ok, so at this point I could care less if they amputated my arm, just get it over with so I can pee dangit! I felt a pinch and a sharp prick. She filled a nice vial and said “Ok, All done”. She handed me my sample cup and escorted me to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I was a little lighted headed, but that was the last thing on my mind. The bathroom was a single, meaning it was just the commode and a corner sink, so I locked the door behind me like any normal person would do and I frantically began unzipping my pants. I wasn’t even thinking about reserving some for the cup, I just wanted to relieve myself at that point. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. A warm sensation enveloped my entire body and I felt calm and peaceful. This obviously went on for some time because I think I dreamt about Josephs Technicolor coat in there. Apparently, the low blood sugar, in combination with the extreme anxiety and sudden blood loss, Oh yeah…and all that pee, caused me to pass out.

I could hear them out there beating on the door, but I couldn’t move. I was so warm and cozy down there on the floor of that bathroom. When they finally got that door open it was as if God himself had shined his flashlight on me. There I was in all of my glorious splendor…pants around my ankles and lying in what seemed to be gallons of my own urine, none of which made it into that sample cup. I had hit my head on the door so they wanted to keep me for observation, clearly out of fear of litigation.

I was certain that I had pissed away any chance of employment, but they hired me anyway. Sometimes I wish they hadn’t. Sometimes I wish I’d pissed before I left work. I took that job and spent ten unhappy years in that place. Nowadays, I get up several times a night to pee, and I’m happy as a clam.

16 grandchildren, 38 great-grandchildren, and 9 great-great-grandchildren

My grandmother on my father’s side passed away last week. She had been ill for several months after suffering a nasty fall in her nursing home. My brother and I picked up our younger sister, and made our way to Louisville Kentucky to pay our last respects and be with our family. Our sister had driven from Atlanta to Greenville and we met her off 385 on our way up. It was an eleven-hour trip, and one that I made with some reluctance. I have to limit exposure to my sister and I thought that spending hours in a confined space with her would make me say or do something I would surely regret, but this trip was different. We laughed, told stories about our own road trips as kids, and enjoyed each other’s company amidst the incredible vistas of the Great Smokey Mountains. We indulged ourselves in barbeque at establishments that neither of our spouses would be caught dead in. We reconnected with cousins we had not seen in many years. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and promised to keep in touch. For many years, way too many to count, I have avoided spending time with my family other than on the emblematic holidays, because as we all know, moderation is the key to enjoying any potentially dangerous cocktail. However, I had a profound revelation on this trip, on this sad and mournful journey I came to appreciate that the bonds of family are stronger than any petty vice, blood is indeed thicker than water, and in the absence of our kids and our significant others, we realized that we are who we are, and that it’s ok to be that way. My cousin Richard said it with the simplest eloquence; “Look around you guys, look at all these children. If it weren’t for Grandma, none of us would be here today” This man, this stranger, opened his home to us and welcomed us with open arms, because we share a common thread without which none of us would exist, because we’re family.

POE, ESTHER MAE RICE, 87, our beloved mother, passed away Thursday, March 22, 2007 at River View Village in Clarksville, IN. Formerly of Louisville, she retired from Kentucky Baptist Hospital as a nurse aid, was past president and a life member of VFW Auxiliary and Robert E. Newman Post. She was preceded in death by her husband, Hubert Edgar Poe. She is survived by two sons, Edgar Ray Poe and Charles Walter Poe; two daughters, Carol F. Egbert and Linda Sanders; 16 grandchildren; 38 great- grandchildren; and nine great-great- grandchildren. Graveside service will be held at 11 a.m. Monday, March 26, 2007 in the Evergreen Cemetery. Visitation is from 4-8 p.m. on Sunday at the Neurath and Underwood Funeral Home (between Clays and Shelby Sts.)

The Forboding Toga Party

"The following story, too, is told by many. A certain seer warned Caesar to be on his guard against a great peril on the day of the month of March which the Romans call the Ides; and when the day had come and Caesar was on his way to the senate-house, he greeted the seer with a jest and said: "Well, the Ides of March are come," and the seer said to him softly: "Ay, they are come, but they are not gone." -- Plutarch

It seems that on this day in 44 BC, Julius Caesar's posse of homeys whacked him while he had his back turned. He was said to have been warned to "beware of the ides of March", or March 15th. Incidentally, the Latin term "Kalendrium" means "account book", and the shortened version "Kalend" (from which our term "calender" is derived), was used by the Romans to denote the first day of the Month... because just as it is a couple of thousand years later, that's when the bills are due. What? No grace period???

My new LCD completes the parlor

I found my camera over the weekend so I decided it was about time to go ahead and upload the pictures from the front parlor project. This was a huge effort that started the day we purchased the house, but since I used this space as a workshop while I remodeled the kitchen, it doesn't count against me. My Father-in-Law (and my Father) were kind enough to help re-skim the plaster in both rooms. One room was most recently used as a dining room, but it was nowhere near the kitchen and had no overhead lighting. As a matter of fact, none of the ungrounded two wire outlets worked in the room, so I don't know how the previous owners even used the room. I installed the cape cod wainscoting, crown molding and baseboards. I rebuild the closet, rewired both rooms, and installed the ceiling fans. The finishing touch was the little 15'' LCD TV that I got as a sort of gift to myself. This was the first project I used my flexible drill bit on, and it worked like a charm, although I'll need a longer bit since the ceilings in the house are so tall. The pictures below show how I used the tool to create a tight installation of a LCD TV. Also shown are a few shots of the finished parlor. Cheers.

Killing two stones for one bird

OK, well I did it. I had a vasectomy on Friday, and I'm back at work today with no real problems, hardly worthy of all the trumped up paranoia I placed on the ordeal. I will say that it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences, but it was remarkably uneventful, thanks to the skillful hands of my urologist. I am notoriously bad about misplaced and undue anxiety. As a matter of fact, I was so worked up about the procedure by Wednesday of last week that I had to call the Doctor and ask for something to ease me through. No problem said his staff. They called in a Valium derivative and told me to take it thirty minutes prior to the procedure. I took the day off to avoid all of the good natured ribbing from my male coworkers...aping the doctor making jokes about the size of my unit, as in; “Your balls may swell to the size of normal testicles, but I don’t think we can do anything for your penis”. I took the anti-anxiety medication like clockwork on the way over to the outpatient center. When we arrived I was greeted by a small inconspicuous whiteboard at the front desk that explained that the good doctor was running an hour and a half behind due to an emergency surgery. Icing the kicker no doubt. Not good. My wife tried to calm me down, and we headed over to The Atlanta Bread Company for a sconce and a cup of coffee. At this point I was quite relaxed since daddy's little helper was kicking in nicely. Nothing outrageous, but it did take the edge off. About an hour into the newspaper we started to head back over to the Dr's office. Out of concern that the euphoria of the Valium might wear off leading to an uncontrollable panic attack during the procedure, I took a second one. Not the brightest move slick. I could have chewed my tongue off and not known it, but it made the process fairly benign, at least what I can remember of it. I slept until ten-thirty Saturday morning. Two days on the couch rotating bags of frozen peas and I'm back at work today, although a little slower and perhaps a bit more apprehensive about the proper approach angle when sitting. The patient informational brochure suggested that you "shave the upper scrotal area" I think I went a little overboard in that department and the resulting sandpaper effect is wreaking havoc down there. I still have a pronounced pain in my lower right abdomen, not unlike being on the receiving end of a spirited dixie-youth cup check. Guys, you know what I'm talking about. They say that its normal and should subside in a few days. All things considered, I'm just glad its over and I'm looking forward to getting back into the swing of things, unsheathed.

I lost my digital camera!!!

OK, well I misplaced my digital camera. I've searched everywhere, but unfortunately it has not turned up. That means all of the before and after pictures I took on the parlor project are in limbo. I apologize to those of you following the restoration, I've not been very diligent in posting project progress, and the absence of my camera doesn't help matters any. I've been wanting to get a new camera anyway;-)

Oh, and I did get Holly's spring specials posted on the SWI site, so for all you expecting mothers out there, you can take advantage of these and save a few bucks on ultrasound services.

Mom coaches kids to act retarded...

I ran across this earlier this morning....
Wait a minute now...I think I know this woman....
According to the Associated Press, Rosie Costello, 46, of Tacoma Washington, admitted in U.S. District Court that she collected more than $280,000 in benefits, mostly from Social Security. Apparently, the oldest son, now in his twenty's, was caught on court video surveillance successfully and rather articulately arguing his way out of a traffic ticket... and I have a hard enough time convincing people that my kids are actually normal.

Plans are made for changing

Well, after making the plans to remodel the master bathroom as our next major project, we did what any self respecting do-it-yourselfer would do and changed them at the last minute. We are now remodeling the Jack and Jill bathroom linking our kids bedrooms. We made that decision primarily because I simply cannot live without a shower. If I cut the old fiberglass shower out of the master bathroom, I'll have to draw a bath before work every morning, hardly practicle. Since the Jack and Jill bath is not in terrible shape, adding a shower extension and ring to the clawfoot tub in that bathroom seemed like a more logical solution for creating a shower than the complete overhaul required in the master bathroom. I had replaced the water damage floor in the Jack and Jill bath over the summer. No problem right? I thought I would be in for a simple project, adding a shower extension tube to the fixture in the tub and installing a shower curtain ring. Nothing to it...Wrong. The project seems to have morphed into much more than I had originally conceived. We are now relocating the sink, completly re-tiling the entire bathroom, adding a linen closet, installing new fixtures (the old ones didn't match the new shower hardware) and installing recessed lighting. We went by Lowes and purchased the material for the project over the weekend. We went ahead and bought the floor tiles, grout, and thinset, but we didn't pick up the backerboard because we didn't have the van at that time, which is clearly indicative of an impulse buy, and one beyond my span of control. So, even though we didn't actually start the project, we have nearly all of the material required to do so piled up in the living room, which is a great motivator in and of itself. Take a look at this wonderful tile here...

Reclaiming Downtown

When we purchased our home we were not exactly in the market for an older home, and certainly not the turn of the century relic we now own. What we were in the market for was a property we could run our small business from. This inevitably lead us to scouring over the many town centers around the lowcountry; places where residential and retail co-exist harmoniously. We were originally drawn to the old village in Mt Pleasant and placed a contract on a FSBO that had a large detached garage. The house was only one block off Coleman Blvd, a main thoroughfare with the potential for plenty of traffic. That deal fell through...thankfully. The real estate market in Mt Pleasant is insane, especially in the Old Village, and the price of our original find was staggering. After the sticker shock of the Old Village, we developed a keener sense of what we were looking for. This process involved months of research, and weekend after weekend of day trips followed by evenings full of researching potential properties that had made our short list. We knew that we needed something with good traffic that could serve the purpose as both a primary residence and a professional services office. Although we were searching in Mt Pleasant, West Ashley, and North Charleston, we ended up in my hometown of Summerville. We had our search area narrowed down to just a few blocks in the historic area of downtown because we felt it offered the most promise for finding a mixed use residence. After a month or so, the perfect house appeared on the market. We were aware of it immediately and had a contract on it within four hours of the initial listing. The former owner used the very large room over the detached garage as a dance studio. With the exception of the mirrored walls, we felt that the detached building would make a perfect home office for our mobile diagnostic imaging service. In fact, most of the older cottages on the east side of town had already been converted to businesses. Chiropractors, law offices, and accountants occupied most of the small cottages in town, so we felt that the property would be a natural fit. It isn't ironic that we found the perfect property in a historic district. Mixed used residential/commercial zones were common in 18th and 19th century townships for a variety of reasons. Although not initially aware that we were contributing to the economic revitalization of our downtown area, we quickly realized that the mixed-use property combines a unique quality of life with the convenience of working in a growing community. Our live-work arrangement provides ample office and business space with a cozy living space - all with the charm and attention to detail that are an integral part of Historic Summerville life. Mixed use zones are making a comeback. In 1991, downtown Summerville, like many small towns across the country, was facing hard times; 40% of the building were vacant. Lifelong residents Rick Sutton and Cada McCoy rolled up their sleeves and did something about it. They drew together several hundred people and spent a year meeting, talking, exploring, and researching. The result was the formation of D.R.E.A.M., the non-profit organization dedicated to the revitalization of the downtown area. Since 1992, D.R.E.A.M. has helped to bring focus and support to Summerville and its downtown.
Summerville D.R.E.A.M. is a member of Main Street SC an affiliate of the National Main Street Program of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

2006 Cost vs Value Report Released

The 2006 Cost vs. Value Report was issued this week. This years report takes a new look at the specifics for 25 typical remodel projects, the result of which is a handy matrix of cost-to-construct figures (which are inclusive of labor, material, sub trades, and gross profit) Many of which are not only higher than in previous years but also, according to Remodeling Magazine, are considerably more accurate. Estimates of resale value were also reportedly more accurate than ever before, thanks to a record 2,188 members of the National Association of Realtors that completed the magazines e-mail survey. So, any surprises? Not really. One thing I did find interesting was the stats for replacement windows. I knew replacing the inefficient windows in an older home would make the list as an investment that would be recouped not only in the percentage of value added to the home, but also in reduced energy consumption. What I didn't know was that according to the survey results, wooden replacement windows actually add more value than their vinyl cousins. Hmmm, interesting....very interesting indeed.

Planning for the Master Bath

Well, I've put it off long enough. It's time to start the master bath. I have put this project on the back burner because we just finished a major kitchen over-haul, and I just couldn't bring myself to start another large scale project. The tub was refinished and has been sitting in our "sitting room" since before Christmas. We use it to store clean clothes. I have been doing some research and found a nice source for vintage plumbing components. I'm thinking if the budget will allow it, I'll get a free standing cast shower. I had considered building a steam shower, but at this point I just want to take the path of least resistance, and this really seems to suit the style I'm going for. I think we will stick with the oil rubbed bronze finish that we used in the kitchen. I'm also considering a 5" ebony maple engineered flooring product. It's easier to just start with a clean slate. The pine tongue-n-groove is nice, but there are a few walls that need to come down and the flooring that is installed now is not contiguous. I think we'll start methodically with the sawzall, remove the two interior walls that make up the closet, remove the baseboards and trim, and cut the old shower enclosure out. I need to plan it properly so that we have minimal shower downtime, since the other bathroom only has the clawfoot tub. I'll be sure to take a good series of before, during, and after photos.

Top Ten Do-it-yourself mistakes...

As posted on MSN today, here is a list of the top ten errors do it yourself-ers make, and I've made just about every one of them. My personal favorite? Number two, Starting a job without the necessary tools and supplies. This is clearly one of the most time consuming mistakes that I have made. Unfortunately, I tend to make this one a lot. When we put the bathroom in our office, my father suggested that we shouldn't worry about busting up all of that concrete to install the waste line, but that we should build a throne for the throne instead. It's a six inch diameter waste line, which meant we would have had to build up the floor with 2x8's. We mocked it up and sat the toilet on it, but it just looked absurd. The Jolly Green Giant would have needed a step ladder to use it. The point? I spent a few hours actually considering that ridiculous alternative. The problem and original aversion to breaking up the concrete stemmed from the fact that we had indeed drilled a few holes in it, whacked it a few times with the mini sledge and cold chisel, and finally decided that we would sooner chisel out of Alcatraz than chisel out a home for my drain. I broke down and went to the local rental shop. I explained what I was trying to do, and for thirty dollars and a refundable $100 credit card deposit, I got a mini jack hammer/drill. It took all of thirty minutes to trench out a path in the concrete for the new drain with the correct tool. Thirty minutes. Thirty dollars. Tool rental works well because most homeowners will never need a fifty gallon concrete mixer more than once. So don't hesitate to rent those specialty items that may just save you some serious time and help you to complete the task sooner. If you're planning on fencing your back yard, rent the auger for your post holes. (21 post by hand = 1.5 days, 21 post with auger = 2 hours with beer breaks in between). This is what separates weekend warriors from the Pros.

No, Wait... This is my new favorite toy....

I really have to get one of these...Its a usb pole dancer. The guy in the cube across from me has a usb foam missle launcher. It comes with software that allows the operator to rotate and aim the missle launcher in 360 degrees. Once on target, you can fire away. And they think blogging is a waste of company resources....

Go straight to the mammal...

If you're anything like me, you HATE automated phone directories..."press one to piss off" A few months ago I purchased plane tickets online, but unfortunately had to call Delta when a problem arose with my flight. After fumbling around on Delta's stupid touch-tone customer service auto-pilot, I was finally put through to "hajji" who, incidentally, claimed his name was "Steve". I was frustrated and a just a little short with Steve. I asked for, as President Bush would say, a "merican". Reluctantly, and as if I had publicly flogged him, hajji connected me to my 'merican customer service representative in good ole Atlanta, GA, just as I requested. But now there's help....gethuman.com provides a list of touch-tone short cuts that get you straight through to the operator. No more telephone purgatory. When you need a problem-solving human on the other end of the phone, try these numbers and their short cuts. This is the best list I've seen for popular 800 numbers with real live humans at the other end, many of them 'mericans too. Even better are the voice mail short cuts for each number that take you to the warm brain on the other end the quickest. The list is searchable with cntrl-F, cheers!

My new favorite tool.

Flexible Drill Bits

Flexible drill bits are made for drilling in the wall cavity and are a real lifesaver for remoldelers, and with good reason. Apparently, they're very popular with alarm installers too. For about fifty dollars you can save yourself a whole lot of time and hastle, and after all...isn't that what its all about? Over the weekend I was under the house trying to drill a hole up through the bottom sill of an interior wall to run a phone wire. Sure, I could have tacked it along the base board, but that's just, well...tacky. I cut holes in the drywall for the receptacle boxes. I use the blue plastic "old-work" boxes. I like these since you don't have to hit a stud to install them securely. If I had a flexible bit, I could have then inserted it into the cavity and using the accompanying in the wall guide tool, drilled a hole through the sill and into the crawlspace. Once in the crawl space, I could have attached my phone wire to the fish eye and pulled it back up effortlessly. Instead, I was relegated to the "tapping" technique, where I would crawl under the house and "tap" the sill with a screw driver and holler up to my wife..."Is that close?" Then cross my fingers and drill away. Then, worse still, I had to thread six or eight feet of cable up through the hole, return inside and fish it out with a coat hanger. Easier said than done. What should have been a twenty minute phone relocation took about two hours. I ordered the fish-bit the next day. Fifty dollars well spent if you ask me, I'm going to use it and my new recessed light hole saw this weekend. I'll update you on the time savings delta. It should easily be enough to pay for the tools on just one project.

The Galley Gallery

The original galley kitchen in our cottage was less than spectacular. I don't know how it ever really functioned as a kitchen. It was dark and dank, and lacked an effective work triangle. When we set out to redesign the layout, we had no preconceptions of what we wanted...we only knew what we didn't like. We didn't like our kitchen. We also had no second thoughts about ripping out the old kitchen. There was nothing original there, in fact the current kitchen was added sometime in the 1980's. The original kitchen was in what is now our living room. We started by removing the old sink basin, which covered half of the window, something that just seemed very odd to me. I thought about re-doing the kitchen in that configuration, but nothing I put on paper seemed to work. We took the drastic step of simply measuring out the exterior walls and starting with a blank slate. That helped tremendously, since we were able to let our imagination have go at it. What we ended up with was a very functional kitchen that we enjoy every day. It just works very well. We relocated the laundry to the former kitchen area, and removed the existing laundry room to create the kitchen and eat in island. We built the entire space from scratch, well mostly. The kitchen cabinets were off-the shelf unfinished oak from Lowe's. We wanted the painted and distressed french country Kraft-Maid versions, but our budget just simply would not allow for the $16 thousand dollar investment. We experimented with a paint treatment and what we came up with was very convincing. They look amazing. With the embellishments and crown mouldings, they look remarkably similar to their $16 thousand dollar cousins, but with a $2000 dollar price tag.


Before...

and After...


I'll post the entire series of pictures from demolition to reconstruction. A quick note, the paint finish was a three step process. The cabinets were first slightly distressed. Then, a base coat layer of white primer was applied to seal the bare wood. In the next step, a confederate grey-blue color was applied. The finish coat was a french country butter cream color. After the units had fully dried we sanded the top coat down slightly in the areas where one might normally find extensive wear over time...around the pulls, the door edges, etc. To add to the aged appearance, the entire cabinet was wiped down with a colonial American stain, which enhances the sanded areas and distressed points, which in our case were generally "worm holes" that we added with a nail punch. The worm hole effect turned out very nicely once stained. The stain also added a very convincing glow, which is what drew us to the original Kraft-Maids. After a week or so dry time, two coats of clear satin acrylic finished off the doors and facing. We took a smaller door to Lowe's to compare it to the more expensive variety...The verdict? Side by side comparison proved that the finish applied in a controlled environment was better, but not $14 thousand dollars better. Even the kitchen and bath associates were impressed with the level of detail we were able to achieve. Of all the projects to date, the kitchen was the most rewarding, and the one we're most proud of. Let the photos tell the story (I took some with my phone, so you'll have to excuse the poor quality)

Bell Capital Cup Memories

Over the Christmas Holidays my sons youth hockey team competed in the worlds largest organized tournament in Ottawa Canada, rather successfully too. Out of a total of 510 teams from around the world, the boys finished in second place in the Pee-Wee Majors single A division. Not bad for a team from South Carolina aye? check it out here...