They have been working on the house across the street for 7-9 months. They gutted it inside and out and put all this work into it and look how they left the entry.
I know they intended to leave it this way because they already installed the siding around the beams. Three weeks it was stripped before they installed the siding. Lack of thinking leading to no final vision and a bad outcome.
How will they make them disappear? Invisible paint?
They could have gotten rid of all three beams and had a welder tuck some square tube behind that fascia and run two tubes to the ground before they poured the concrete. Total cost? Probably $800. (to redo it now? probably
Next time you think I'm too critical (and I try to not be) realize I might simply have a different point of view. :-)
Does all the counting and keeping track of your triggers before you quit really mean anything or help?
I smoked whenever I wanted and could. Didn't you?
I wasn't a chimney at a pack a day but was a "solid smoker."
Why would I want to focus on thinking of quitting smoking all day, everyday before I even quit when all I have to do is change my thought for a moment?
I think it bogs most people down and makes them think of quitting as "too much work."
I believe all the conscious counting makes quitting more work than it needs to be and puts quitting in a negative light before you begin, then, when you do quit, you believe you have to think about smoking or not smoking or you're not doing something right.
I'd rather just "tell myself to wait a little longer" when I want to smoke, which is what I did, and then let the naturalness of that action lower the amount and change my cycle of smoking automatically to prepare me to quit
You will understand why smoking is difficult to let go.
I'm going to give it to you in one word.
Smoking is a big part of most memories we have.
We hold onto things because we believe that will help us retain our memories.
I still have the same guitars I bought in the 60's and 70's.
Because I spent thousands of hours playing them and creating with them.
They are "old friends" but they don't suffer the ravages of time and living like we do as smokers. They don't get cancer or have heart attacks or strokes.
They get better with age. They gain value with age.
Each One Has A Story. I'm going to tell you 4 of them just for the heck of it.
If you're not interested, feel free to move on.
My first guitar worth saving was handmade by a Japanese Luthier named Kazuo Yairi. He was the premier luthier in Japan.
I spotted it at a 7 story music store in Tokyo and I took the subway 30 minutes each way daily for a month to play it. I didn't have any money to buy it so I sent a telegram (yes a telegram) to my parents and asked them to send me $100. They were reluctant but, my dads dad sent the money. We were with ABC records and when they got wind of the story, they had a limo take me to the store to buy it. :-) When I got home and took it to the local music store, Barbara Mandrell's
dad offered me $600 for it. No, I couldn't part with it.
My first electric guitar was a Fender Telecaster.
It was the late 60's. It was hippie time. :-)
I had left a show group that played Vegas, Tahoe and the state fairs.
We were forming a new group with an old groups name. Our manager had been with the New Christy Minstrels and had secured the name of a group that had had a hit with "Frankie and Johnny" which she thought she could get some mileage out of. We spent 14 hours a day, 7 days a week for 6 weeks that summer learning songs and putting three 45 minute "sets" together.
We then took our show to Korea to play for our soldiers, tighten our show and develop our onstage interaction. We traveled all over the country including the DMZ. Our equipment had been left out in the rain in a stopover in Fiji and all our amplifier speakers were ruined from the humidity. So, no amplifiers, no sound system. The promoter took me on an equipment hunt in Seoul and we bought one $50 amp which we ran two guitars and a bass through. I would take apart the juke boxes at each place we played and wire our vocals into the preamp section.
Another thing that humidity got was the finish on my brand new guitar.
There was deep cracking in the finish so, after I returned to Los Angeles, I called Fender and told them my story and they let me come down to their factory in Fullerton and gave me my choice of any guitar in their showroom.
This was my choice.
I used this guitar for my 1st 1 1/2 years as we toured the states. I needed a backup for when I broke a sting so I bought the red one below from the local music store when I was home on a break. I finally learned it was safest to change all strings weekly on my day off.
And while traveling through Provo, Utah, on our way to Portland Oregon I spied this, a 1955 Martin D-18 for $250 at a violin repair shop.
I didn't have but $100 so I asked them to hold it until I sent them the money in a week and they shipped it to me under a Greyhound bus in a cardboard box.
I still have the memories and the recordings I made with them.
Even though they have increased in value, it isn't their monetary value that makes me hold onto them, it's the MEMORIES CONNECTED TO THEM.
Last Tuesday, I was told I needed to get rid of a table that was deteriorating outside. One of the legs had come off due to rains that had soaked through the top. I was able to break the other legs off and get it in the refuse container.
Now that doesn't sound like a big deal and it wasn't, because I was no longer using it and even though it had an added tile top to protect it from the elements, some of the tiles at the corners had come off in it's many moves since I tiled it in 1971 and were irreplaceable due to the tile pattern. In that way, it wasn't so hard to let go.
The thing is, I made that table in 7th grade wood shop class. I was 12 so that puts it 5 or 6 years before I started smoking.
How many things do you still have from when you were 12.
I still have the memories of making it while everyone else was still squaring up bookends. It was very advanced for a 7th grade wood shop class with a rabbetted edge concealing an inset top and tapered legs, all made of mahoghany.