Archive for ‘life’ category

An Old Stove

An old stove

When I say to someone, we bought a new house, what I really mean is that we bought an old house. Case in point: the stove.

This thing is ancient — but it’s so old, that the style is almost hip in a way. I love the typography on it. Typography? Wait a minute… a stove is much more about function than form. I should care about how it performs — the heat it produces, cooking time, etc.

An old stove

The stove works just fine, and I remember the realtor saying that it was made so long ago that it’ll probably last another 50 years. Manufactured at a time perhaps before planned obsolescence.

I’m sure we’ll replace it someday, but for now it’s a matter of convincing ourselves that it’s just fine.

Anyhow, warm wishes for a Happy Holiday Season from SimpleBits. I will be sipping eggnog while priming, painting and spackling my way to a New Year.

Thank You, Neighbor

This post comes courtesy of someone’s Wi-Fi in the new neighborhood. Thanks. While I was supposed to have phone, cable and internet hooked up today, I missed the appointment and now have to wait another week. Yikes. One more week without cable. This is an atrocity, but thank goodness for wireless technology.

Anyhow, it’s probably just as well since we’re still navigating a sea of carboard boxes. Aside from that we’re still in awe of the previous owner’s horrific fascination with stencils. There are random stencils on the wall in a few different spots of the new house. Stencils that start on one wall and abruptly end before meeting the next. Or stencils that travel all the way around the room as if a vine had grown in a perfect circle. How charming.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Cardboard Carnival

My wife Kerry and I are moving into a new house this coming monday. Although we’re moving approximately 300 yards away, the process is no less of a disruptive stress-fest. We’ve been living in an absolute mess for the past few weeks as we box up everything and throw out stuff that we haven’t looked at since the last move. It feels good to rid yourself of old stuff. Like shedding a skin.

Old Frye Building

We’re saying goodbye to the 2nd and 3rd floors of the “Old Frye Building” (pictured right), a mid-nineteenth century gambrel that has treated us well these past two and a half years.

A recent readthrough of the house’s history revealed an interesting little tidbit. According to tax records, there was an occupant: Thomas Collins, Jr. age 19 (navy), that lived here in 1864. The next record for 1869 reads: Thomas Collins Jr. died Nov. 27, 1864. Now, I immediately got to thinking… he was in the Navy at the time of the Civil War, and died right around that same time. Whoa. It’s possible that a young boy — just 19, lived between the same walls that surround the keyboard as I type this, went off to fight the Civil War and never came back. History is incredible. We’ll certainly miss this place.

And now it’s all about new beginnings. New house, unfortunate timing of a job termination means rethinking of where to go next. I know I already talked about this not too long ago, but it’s as if the world is a completely different place then it was just two months ago. And it must be weighing heavily on my mind enough to dedicate two posts in a month to vaguely rambling on about the journey of life.

Anyhow, I’ll be offline for a bit next week, but will emerge from a flattened, cardboard box mountain soon enough. Hopefully unscathed and ready to take on the world of standards-compliant design again.

What’s Next?

I’m going to be asking myself that a lot over the next few months. All of the sudden, I’m at this crazy juncture in life. Sometime after the New Year, I’ll no longer have a day job. My wife and I bought a new house (albeit just a few blocks away) and will be moving at the end of the month. And there are possibly a few other exciting things happening on top of all this.
There are so many directions to go, so many things to consider. It’s all exciting and positive, yet at the same time overwhelming.
So, hopefully postings here won’t suffer — but if I sound incoherent now and then, you now know the probable reason.


One year ago I wrote about seeing the year-old, worn pools of candle wax on my walk to the train every morning. It’s amazing, but they’re still there — 2 years later now. They are even more worn than last year, but still a constant reminder of the sad day and vigils that followed.