Happy New Year!

            Happy New Year!

And welcome to 2024!

This is my twenty-sixth year writing a weekly letter blog. Twenty-six years! Can you believe that‽

The first thing I had to do was put 2023 to bed. I did not punch one single hole or put one single letter blog away for the entire year! And I had to do that first in order to gather the facts for you.

          “What are the facts?” you ask.

          Last year I wrote 53 letter blogs. The average length was 10 pages when printed. The average number of views on my blog was 50 a week. I missed writing twice in October, and once each in March and April, but I usually made up for it with an extra-long letter blog the next week. I showed you more than 2,400 pictures. Actually, I counted 2,453 but my count might be off. I only counted once. Flipping through 528 pages is time-consuming and it got confusing a couple of times. It doesn’t have to be exact anyway. More than is close enough. I wrote you an extra letter blog three times, once each in June, August, and September. I can also tell you that I wrote 141,456 words, but I’m not sure anyone cares about that. Just for kicks and grins, I Googled average number of words in a novel. To be considered a novel, the word count must be a minimum of 50,000 and can go up to 110,000. If you read me every week, you read one, maybe two novels. Grammarly says I used more than 2,000 unique words. That’s hard to believe. I was more productive than 98% of Grammarly users and I’ve only been using Grammarly for sixteen weeks. And one more fact, one I’m sure you’re already aware of, is I spend at least two days every week in front of my computer, cranking out a letter blog for you. Sometimes more, but we’ll just say two. That’s 104 days a year I devote to reminding you that someone in this world loves and cares about you.

          “Peg! You tell me every morning!” you remind me.

          Oh my gosh! Yes! I wasn’t thinking about my morning love note! I started that shortly after Kat died and this is my ninth year writing those. It started with just one person, my beautiful sister, my daughter’s other mother, Phyllis. From there it’s grown to include 25. My morning peeps. And you’re right. Some of you are reminded an extra 365 times a year that you are loved. Life is precious to me. You are precious to me! If you die before me, I know that I told you often how much I loved you. If I die before you, you know that I loved you — and wasn’t afraid to tell you so!

>>>*<<<

          Midweek last week, Mike got to looking at the kitchen and came to me with a new plan.

          “We could take down the stainless-steel shelves and put a couple of cabinets up there,” he said.

          Those shelves were out of the little bakery we opened and ran for about eight months and of all the shelves in the kitchen, I’m least attached to those. So, I agreed.

          “Then my dishes won't get dusty,” I told my morning peeps. Not that that bothered me. Most of the stuff we used all the time didn't have a chance to get dusty and if I wanted to use something else and it was dusty, I rinsed or washed it off.

          It was our plan, at the beginning of the week, to fix the problem of the plumbing occasionally freezing at the kitchen sink in the winter, then install the rest of the cabinets.

          “I thought you were waiting for the heat tape to arrive?” you say.

          Good memory! Yes, we were. The heat tape actually arrived Saturday but since that’s my letter blog day, the plan was to start Monday.

          Monday came and Monday was New Year’s Day. It was also the day the upper cabinets were scheduled to arrive.

          “If they get here early enough, do you want to put them up?” Mike asked. “I think it’ll be easier to put them up before we put the lower cabinets in.”

          “Fine by me,” was my answer.

          The cabinets were delivered in the morning.

          Then a little hinky got thrown into the plan.

          “What’s a hinky?” you ask.

          Something strange, unusual. A problem, hindrance, a kink in the plans.

“Well tell us!”

Mike was experiencing pain in his belly where they fixed his surgical hernia.

“It feels like something’s pulling and it hurts,” Mike said.

I made him call the doctor but they couldn’t see him until Friday. In the meantime, they gave him a ten-pound weight restriction. With that in mind, I didn’t think we’d work on the kitchen. That old cast iron kitchen sink must weigh a hundred pounds! I was happy to sit back and work on other stuff.

“Peg, if we don’t do the kitchen now, and they have to open me back up, it’ll be weeks until we can finish the kitchen,” Mike reasoned.

“What about your belly?” I asked.

“You know me. I’ll make it as easy on us as I can.”

So we started.

Mike helped unload the shelves and stack everything on the counter. I went into the wayback and brought boxes up to clear out under the sink as well as the microwave stand.

These new cabinets are tons lighter than old cabinets and we took the doors off to make installing easier.

The cabinets went up easy peasy and we didn’t have to do them twice.

“When are we starting the sink?” I asked.

“Tomorrow,” Mike said. “I want a full day to work on it in case we run into problems.”

Lamar Kipp is back to his old self so we are relieved of mail duty. I’d been delivering the latest issue of Peggy’s Jibber Jabber to Miss Rosie when we collected the mail. Now we made a special trip.

“Let’s take Bondi,” I told Mike. “You know Miss Rosie doesn’t get to see her very often anymore.”

When we pull up to the Kipps’ house, we put Bondi down. She runs a hundred miles an hour to the door. Often the Kipps know we're coming and someone lets her in before Mike and I get there. When we did get to the door, Lamar was getting the mop from the corner.

“Someone excited pee?” I guessed.

“Ya. It’s okay,” he said.

They love Bondi so much it doesn’t bother them if she piddles a little, and you can see that Bondi loves Miss Rosie, too!

The next morning Mike got down under the sink and started unhooking the water and drain lines.

“I can’t make my knees bend anymore,” he says. It’s hard for him to get down on the floor unless he has lots of room to stretch those long legs out.

Riani, feeling a bit neglected, brought me three balls, trying to tempt me into playing with her.

“Where’s her knobby one?” you ask.

On the roof.

“I thought you weren’t going to throw it on the roof anymore,” you say.

Boy! You guys don’t forget anything!

I didn’t throw it on the roof, at least not on purpose. My pitch went awry and so there it sits; on the roof until I feel like climbing up there and getting it down. In the meantime, Raini has learned she can have just as much fun with other balls.

Everything we took out of the kitchen we found a new home for. The shelf went into the hallway between the pantry and the apartment.

The old cash register turned microwave stand is at the entryway to the pantry and now is home to my glass grinder. No longer will it live at the end of my kitchen counter and that’s a YAY!

Mike got everything unhooked but when we tried to move the cabinet, it wouldn’t budge.

“I bet I screwed it to the wall,” Mike said.

He got back down on the floor with his screw gun, found a couple of screws, and took them out. He groaned his way back to his feet.

“You ever notice how you make more noise when you get older?” he asked.

I laughed. “Yes, I have!”

Mike on one end, me on the other, we tried once again to pull the cabinet away from the wall. It still wouldn’t budge.

“I bet you screwed it to the wall before we put the sink in and there’s a screw behind the sink basin,” I guessed.

We took the sink and short piece of counter off and sure enough there was a screw behind it. This time Mike didn’t have to get on the floor to take the screw out.

The sink base and sink we moved to the wayback. We don’t really have a use for it.

“We could put it down by the road and put a free sign on it,” I suggested.

“The faucet alone is worth a hundred bucks,” Mike said.

“Facebook Marketplace?”

“Maybe Pastor Jay wants to put water in his new garage,” Mike said.

I don’t think we’ve made a definitive decision on what we’re going to do with it.

Mike got Scootie and the drywall saw and went to work opening up the wall.

We could feel cold air coming in so we packed the bay above and below the elbows (where it freezes) with insulation. Then Mike wrapped it with the steel braided heat tape that he likes.

“I’m hoping we never have to use it,” he said.

We’re going to see if the extra insulation does the job first. If the elbows freeze then we’ll plug it in.

Just so you know, the rest of the water line is run in Pex which will expand a little if it freezes. The brass elbows get colder and that’s where it’s been freezing.

Mike put the wall back together, then we set the rest of the cabinets.

I was worried about the sink. “I don’t think I’ll be able to lift it,” I said.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

“What about your belly? Maybe you should put your back brace on backward so it holds your belly in.”

For once he actually listened to me!

Mike took one of the cabinet boxes and draped it over the sink. He wheeled the sink in and propped it against the cabinet. And just because it’s easier than crawling under the sink, we put the new faucet and soap dispenser on before we set the sink.

Mike on one side, me on the other, we lifted the sink and let it slide up onto the top of the cabinets. It wasn’t bad at all. We wrestled it into place and pulled the cardboard out. That’s when we realized we made a miscalculation.

“What now?” you wanna know.

We’d put a piece of one-by-four across the tops of the counter so when we put the top on, the lip of the countertop didn’t interfere with opening (or closing) the drawers. We didn’t do that before when we put in the temporary countertop and I lived all these years with a drawer that wouldn’t close because the countertop sat too low and was in the way. The sink basin of the new sink was too big to go between the one-by-fours.

“What’d you do?” you ask.

One thing’s for sure! We weren’t taking the sink down once it was up there! We moved it around enough that Mike could cut out the one-by-fours while I held the sink steady. It was balancing on the bottom of the strainer. And that’s why there aren’t any pictures of this phase. Then we put the sink in place.

We thought plumbing it would be a breeze. All we had to do was hook everything up to the new sink the same way we unhooked it from the old sink. What we didn’t factor in to the equation is the new sink comes down in a different place than the old sink did. Mike was diligent to center this one under the window whereas the old one wasn’t.

It was a puzzle! We had all the old plumbing parts and ransacked the box of spare plumbing parts from the wayback and laid everything out. No matter how we put the parts together we couldn’t connect the drain.

“I’ll have to go to town for ninety-degree elbow,” Mike said.

I didn’t go with him and he came home with the wrong part. Honestly, even if I had gone with him we probably would’ve still come home with the wrong part.

“It wasn’t a ninety?” you ask.

It was a ninety, but it was a screw-together ninety. We needed a compression ninety.

Nothing like doing it twice.

I went with him the next time, not that I was any help. The clerk at the hardware store found the right part for Mike.

We started this project in the morning and it was after three until we took a break for lunch. It was another two hours or so until we had the kitchen together.

Since the upper cabinets were an afterthought, we’re short three handles in this photo.

“Peg! Your countertops don’t match!” you exclaim.

I know, right! And it doesn’t bother me a bit. We used what we had and bought a small piece for the left side of the sink. Would you believe that the small four-foot section of countertop cost a hundred bucks‽ Someday I’ll get fancy-schmancy matching countertops.

Now, take a good look because my countertops will never be this empty again!

The sink cleaned up beautifully and I’m totally in love with it.

“I don’t like how the front of the sink looks,” Mike said. “We have to stop at Lowe’s for the rest of the handles so we’ll see what we can find.”

We made two trips out this week. One for a few groceries and to return some parts to the hardware store in Tunkhannock. I took a couple of road pictures.

I can read this one.

I have no idea what this one says.

          A nutcracker collection on display. 

                A hawk.

          I know my hawk pictures aren’t all that great. I love the raptors though and can’t resist trying to get a picture. But I don't have to show them to you if you prefer.

          With that in mind, I took my long lens with me when we went to see the doctor.

          The first picture of the trip was of this hawk sitting on the power lines. It’s a little better.

          Crossing the Veterans Bridge into Towanda, I took a picture of the courthouse.

          And a railroad bridge crossing the Susquehanna.

          The mesh they placed in Mike’s belly to correct his surgical hernia is held in place with permanent stitches.

          “You’ll never pull them out,” Doc said. He went on to explain how the stitches were embedded deeply in the muscle because otherwise they could migrate and so would the mesh. “Everything feels like it’s where it’s supposed to be. There’s no need to do a scan at this point unless you start feeling worse. But I predict you’ll be better in a couple of days.”

          Mike is better. Likely he was sore from all the work we were doing.

          As soon as we got home with the piece of trim, Mike put it up.

He put the rest of the handles on, too.

See! No more naked countertops!

          We still have a ways to go until the house is done but I’m happy.

>>>*<<<

          We had snow! Somewhere around seven inches of the beautiful white fluffy stuff.

“Bah humbug!” Mike says.

I only have to sit here and revel in its beauty. Mike has to go out and deal with it.

It was still dark when he went out and got to work on the driveway, then he made a pass by the mailbox. Here he is coming up the path and into the dog run.

Out of the room, but never out of love for you.

Done!