Finally... tile.

Finally,...

I have been wanting to replace the flooring in my kitchen for years. The Mannington linoleum that was purchased when the kitchen was remodeled in 1997 was the best available at that time. It had a lifetime warranty, whatever that means... Unfortunately, the warranty was nullified because we had put down the subfloor rather than having the installers put it down. Perhaps they would have used stainless steel staples/nails because the ones we used rusted underneath onto the linoleum and left yellow/orange spots. It wasn't pretty any longer. Besides the rust spots, it had become impossible to clean.

Regardless of my desire for new flooring, I couldn't afford it, despite my saving for it. On several occasions I had accumulated the funds and thought I could go ahead, but alas, the funds had to be used to replace or fix something else: a new furnace that wasn't near old enough to die, the replacement of the PSV valve (which yes, was old enough) so that the water pressure wouldn't flood my house, subsequent clearing out of the sewer line and toilet replacement, car repairs which seem to be incessant, large debt to Elevations CU - now zero, trips to California in 2010, 2011, and 2013, missionary expenses and wedding expenses, and then there was the year I had to pay for an appraisal, a washing machine, and a motor for the air conditioner, and I guess I could have bought flooring instead of the flat screen TV, but we sure would have missed out on a lot of entertainment.

Looking back, those things were necessary, and now at this point, I thought I could go ahead with it, having saved up the money. I held my breath as my dishwasher fell apart (earlier than it should have, I might add) and then doggedly pushed on as my garage door had a minor issue and as I considered other options for the use of the money.

I found someone to do the work, picked out the tile which was difficult; I should have picked out the tile before I found the tiler, but I finally decided on the look, color and design I thought I would like on my floor. I also decided to tile an entry way at my front door and replace the flooring in my basement bathroom along with installing baseboards (bullnose) in the kitchen and bathroom.

It took a week to accomplish the whole job - I wasn't expecting that.

The first day we moved the fridge and oven, and he pulled up the old linoleum. Underneath was waferboard. He was going to pull that up as well, but seeing it was not particle board (I told him that, but he apparently didn't believe me), he decided to leave it and put the cement board on top of it. 

 

 

The second day he finished putting down the cement board. 

 

 

The third day he started laying the tile.

And then finished it on the fourth day.

It had to set for 24 hours, so the fifth day he spread on the grout and began laying the bullnose in the kitchen, the tile in the living room entry way and the basement bathroom as well as the bullnose there. We moved the fridge and the oven back at the end of that work day.

The sixth day he smoothed the grout over all of that, nailed a metal plate between the kitchen tile and hall carpet and cleaned up.

 

 

 

 

 

I am pleased, and I think it looks wonderful. It has made my house look so much better, and the agony of cleaning the floors, I hope, is gone. No longer is there even a spec of linoleum in my house. Finally...


I wrote this during the first week after getting tile flooring. I admit I was trying to ignore the slabs of tile that seemed misplaced, but my children pointed them out to me. Since then I have cried over my tile. Yes, my floor is easier to clean, but each tile is placed without any thought to leveling. I called this guy back, asked him to look at some of the tiles. He came in the house with a bucket and a crowbar ready to break a few and replace them. I had marked the ones that I felt he needed to look at, but there were so many that he deemed the job as needing to be completely redone. He took the name of the tile to purchase, and I was expecting to see him in a couple of weeks to redo the job, but he never returned. I called him, texted him, but he wouldn't respond. This was during the time when I was busy getting Erin ready for her mission so I didn't have a lot of time to devote to it, but after she was on her way, I called the guy again, and still nothing.


Finally, I had a different tiler come in and look at it, and he said it was within industry standards, just as the main tiler had said, but he immediately could see that the floor was not level therefore rendering each tile to be unlevel. It feels very uncomfortable under my feet. He recommended tearing it all up and putting down mud to level the floor and then laying the tile on a level floor. I would love to do that, but I spent the money that I had saved and resaved many times on the poor job that exists.


A couple weeks ago I submitted a claim to BBB, and as of this date, June 15, 2016, I have heard nothing.

A review of "Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption" by Laura Hillenbrand

Many years ago when I was a young teenager, I read "The Great Escape." I also read another book, but I don't remember the name of it. These two books were biographies about World War II German prison camps. They fascinated and frightened me. Now, this many years later, reading a similar story unfolded in Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. I found it almost impossible to read. What difference do so many years make? I wondered this same thing as I tried to watch "Hunger Games" on TV. Sitting there with my children who seemed to be eating it up, I couldn't make it through the show. The subject matter was horrible. The amount of suffering inflicted and fear put in the hearts of those children was unbearable to watch. I had the same feelings as I was reading this book, "Unbroken." Many times I wondered if I shouldn't continue because my nervous system was in pain. I will not be viewing the movie, as a precise image would probably send me for a loop. I read it at work between calls, so 30 seconds, 1 minute, 2 minutes at a time is probably what saved me, but it was fascinating...

The story set forth in "Unbroken" is about Louis Zamperini, a bombardier in World War II whose plane crashed in the Pacific Ocean. He and two others lived through the crash to be able to float for days on life rafts to then be captured by the Japanese. The story was presented extremely well, artistically and meticulously, by the author, Laura Hillenbrand.

The story began with a description of his childhood which showed how he had the background to be able to survive such an ordeal. The word used in the book to describe his childhood was that he was a "delinquent." He could steal a freshly baked apple pie out of the neighbor's house without anyone's knowing. He was always in trouble, and everyone in his town hated him. As I read, I remember feeling an aversion for him; I was amazed at how the author had painted a picture of this person so that I felt what the townspeople were feeling.

Finally, his older brother took charge of him and convinced him to focus on sports, specifically track, and through intense training, Louis Zamperini became a candidate for the Olympics. Weeks before he was to enter his second Olympics, he was called up to war.

Louie, his nickname, decided to serve in the United States Army Air Corps. After months of training as a bombardier, his group was sent to the Pacific Islands. They had gone on several campaigns to take out the Japanese, but the one that downed Louie's plane was a search party to rescue a lost plane and crew. In the process their plane went down as well. I tend to think that it would not have happened if they had been in a reliable plane. The "Green Hornet" wasn't sound, everyone knew that, but the commanding officer ordered it, so they went.

Once in the water, Louie seemed to have drowned. He couldn't get back to the surface. He swallowed water, he lost consciousness, but all of a sudden, he was up and out and breathing. He mentions that he didn't understand how that happened when his condition seemed doomed. Once at the surface, he went for the life rafts. He almost lost one, but all of a sudden, he noticed the rope trailing behind it, and he grabbed it. So, they had two rafts that he tied together. Phil, the pilot, and Mac also made it to the surface, and they climbed in the two rafts.

The next 47 days were spent trying to survive on the ocean. In training, the men had learned what could be done if they were found stranded in any kind of scenario, and Louie's mind was constantly working out how to eat, how to keep afloat, how to stay alive. There were a few fish hooks which they used to catch fish, but, eventually, those were gone, at which time, Louie made hooks from fish bones that they kept from the remains. All remains were put to use. Sometimes they dived for fish or simply (actually, not so simple) caught them with their hands. For weeks the sharks had been circling their rafts, and finally, Louie resolved to take one out. He figured out a way to kill the shark; a screwdriver through the eye immediately rendered it lifeless. Then, getting it in the raft, Louie set about skinning it, deboning it, and finding the liver which was the only part that was edible. They collected drinking water from dew forming or rain falling on plastic sheets because sea water is not safe to drink. With just enough food and water to maintain life, all three men became skeletons.

Whenever a plane flew overhead, means were taken to gain visibility. Unfortunately, they were too small to be seen in the huge ocean. One Japanese plane did spot them and circled them with guns blazing numerous times. Louie jumped in the ocean and hid under one of the rafts. Phil and Mac, too weak from starvation and immobility, curled up on the raft and hoped to be missed. Miraculously, all three of them survived. How that could have been possible was not known. The rafts were full of bullet holes. Louie and Phil spent the next several days bailing water and patching holes. They let one of the rafts go, and all three men now occupied the very crowded confines of one raft.

A very important part of their survival was to keep their minds active and positive. Phil and Louie spent several hours everyday tossing math problems and riddles back and forth. They recounted childhood events and army stories. They figured where they were travelling by the sun, moon, stars and flow of the ocean. They kept track of the days. Louie's mind that was so active and imaginative as a youth was put to the test in this experience. Mac, on the other hand, didn't participate. He had no hope for survival, and he dwindled daily. He did eventually die, and they buried his body at sea. It was providential, I believe, that all sea life left his body alone.

Perhaps it is obvious that they were being divinely protected, but to make Louie sure of it, near the end of their time on the ocean, he heard and saw angels singing. He asked Phil if he had heard it, but no, it was a manifestation just for Louie. Soon after this manifestation, they spotted land, and although it was several days before they reached it, their spirits were lifted.

With land came people and the wrong kind of people; Japanese prison camps were the next trial. Despite being on land, there was still little food, and treatment by guards was horrible. Louie even wished to be back on the raft. Whereas, time on the rafts was difficult, time in the camps was detrimental to self-respect. Numerous times Louie had bones broken or was rendered unconscious from beatings. Louie said, "The crash of Green Hornet had left Louie and Phil in the most desperate physical extremity, without food, water, or shelter. But on Kwajalein, the guards sought to deprive them of something that had sustained them even as all else had been lost: dignity. This self-respect and sense of self-worth, the innermost armament of the soul, lies at the heart of humanness; to be deprived of it is to be dehumanized, to be cleaved from, and cast below, mankind. Men subjected to dehumanizing treatment experience profound wretchedness and loneliness and find that hope is almost impossible to retain. Without dignity, identity is erased. In its absence, men are defined not by themselves, but by their captors and the circumstances in which they are forced to live. One American airman, shot down and relentlessly debased by his Japanese captors, described the state of mind that his captivity created: 'I was literally becoming a lesser human being.'"

Phil and Louie were separated into individual jail cells and then into completely different camps, and Louie didn't know how Phil fared until he returned home. I confess I had to look at the end of the story to ease my mind before I could continue on in the story, and he did marry the girl who was waiting for him.

Finally, the war ended, and they were freed. It took years to get Louie's digestive system working properly - amazing how resilient the human body is. He had many emotional problems to contend with upon his return, but when he eventually remembered the goodness of God in protecting his life, that God loved him and felt he had worth, rather than the hatefulness of the Japanese guards and even the errors of the American military leaders, he began to heal. He turned his life over to God and Christ and encouraged others to do the same. I'm sure that our Heavenly Father is pleased with how he used his talents, how he never gave up, how he honored the Lord despite all. He married, had children, embarked on a motivational speaking career, and became famous for his war exploits. In 2014 he died at the age of 97; once sure that he would soon be dead, he ended up living a good long life.

It is of note that the author, Laura Hillenbrand, was suffering from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome while she was writing this book which took several years, 2002-2010, to accomplish. Unable to leave her house for years, she pushed forward in the task of gathering facts. Now, her health is not so precarious, but it is not surprising to me that forces might not want this story uncovered. If there is "anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy," which things testify of God and Christ, the adversary would not want them to go forth. Francis Webster, a member of the Martin Handcart Company, stated concerning that experience, “Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities [greatest suffering].” The Lord has promised that if you are true and faithful, the Lord himself may be “in your midst and ye cannot see me.” (D&C 38:7.) Even if you do not see him, he can “be on your right hand and on your left, and [his] Spirit shall be in your hearts,” and the angels will be “round about you, to bear you up.” (D&C 84:88.) Without a doubt, the angels and the Lord's Spirit were with Louie and the other men.

The effects of the Obama years/Tithing Tales - III

I thought I would write about how my life has changed since Obama has been President of the United States. I hadn't really thought about this until I found myself rationalizing why I work at this lousy Sorenson CaptionCall job after six years. So, here it is:

I began working at SLCC during the latter half of 2008 (August). It provided, along with tuition payments from my studio piano students, almost enough income (at least during the fall and spring semesters), but I had to make just a little extra money to make ends meet, so I applied for work at Sorenson. I had heard about this job through a student who had previously taken piano lessons from me and now was in one of my music theory classes. I easily was offered a job and began working 14 hours each week for Sorenson. I was not planning to stay with Sorenson long, hoping to log experience with SLCC and build up my piano business further which had grown to about 26 students.

With the bail outs of 2008-2009, many companies lost business which caused people to lose jobs. This domino effect extended to me because with lost jobs, people give up frivolous things. So, I lost many students during this time. To counter the loss, I tried to pick up at least 15 extra hours each week at Sorenson from someone who was trying to trade away their shift.

During the 2009-2010 year at SLCC I was given only two classes to teach as opposed to the regular three classes. People who had lost jobs had come to SLCC to beg for employment, and someone in charge granted it even though there wasn't the need. Therefore, I was pushed aside. Instead of going out to find other work, I worked through my budget and found that if I didn't pay for anything besides the monthly bills, I would be okay - meaning, I had no miscellaneous fund whatsoever.

In March 2010, the Affordable Care Act was passed into law, and businesses across the US had to reorganize. The law would distinguish between full-time and part-time employment in specific detail in order to monitor who would or would not be paid health insurance benefits. This actually improved my situation because adjuncts who had been given four or five classes had to give some of them up. I was given three classes again. However, the hope to increase my class load any further was eliminated.

So, it was established how the next several years would go. Three 3-credit classes was the limit. That worked well for me as long as I did get three. At times I was scheduled for two classes until an assessment of need could be determined. Nervous anticipation always accompanied the waiting. At the same time, I was feeling out the private piano lesson climate. Pam Jones, an adjunct, was basically in charge of it. There is no piano department at SLCC, so a good way to rise to the top is by taking care of a need. She wondered if the school could handle opening up another section of piano lessons. I didn't get any students until one semester Pam and Stephanie Smith had students they couldn't fit into their schedules. They came to me; I, of course, took their surplus students, and the school had to open two sections of private piano lessons for me (MUSC 1730, 1732). The next year I was automatically scheduled for two or three sections (also, MUSC 1735) of private piano lessons, and students signed up.

This workload kept me busy: three classes, several (8-12) piano students, part-time at Sorenson, and 8-12 students in my private studio. I managed it until at the beginning of 2011, my private insurance company, Blue Cross Blue Shield, decided to increase my insurance premium to $600/month to align themselves with Obamacare regulations. Fortunately, at that time Sorenson asked for part-timers to become full-time. I jumped on it; I took on 32 full-time hours, which was a nice option. Since I had been picking up 29 hours for some time, three more was nothing. (I tried to fit in another eight hours but couldn't accomplish that without creating a really undesireable schedule.) With full-time hours came affordable health insurance as well as other benefits. I consider this a blessing of tithing.

At the end of June 2013 we took a trip to the cabin. While there, I could check my work emails, and I found out that organizational changes were taking place. Upon returning, I was informed that my job would be gone by the end of July. Apparently, the FCC had lowered the price per call so significantly that it was not cost-effective to continue SIPRelay. I mulled over what to do, where to go, whether I could live without $1000/month. The next day the management took me aside and, surprisingly, offered me the options of transferring over to CaptionCall, the newly formed company, or receiving a severance pay to cover three months of living expenses. Apparently, because I was full-time and had been there for five years and was in good standing, they were willing to honor my loyalty. I took CaptionCall. Another blessing, I believe, that over these years I had been convinced by the spirit to submit to the endless rules at Sorenson, difficult for a stay-at-home mom who has complete control of her time.

Many people's lives were disrupted because of the dissolution of SIP. Some, like myself, went to CC, while others who should have received better offers, decided to leave. Since Sorenson had to absorb the blow, there were more employees than were needed to operate business in CC. For nearly a year, CC worked to put itself within strict business ratios: expenses vs. income. I found out two years later that the managers at the SLC location were giving disciplinary notices at a rate of 75% higher than the other locations. I know it was to get rid of people, and they were successful. Unfortunately, many would leave hating Sorenson. I was among those who received disciplinary notes. I was slow to learn how to do the captioning. Came to realize, I had to change the way I spoke so that the computer would recognize words. Since I wasn't getting it, I received warnings and a bad taste in my mouth for CaptionCall.

Finally, I got it, all was well, and I was gaining piano students at SLCC until the summer of 2014 when we got word that no adjunct could have more than 9 credit hours. That meant I would have to drop my students, who tended to drop at a whim which would lower my income, and I needed steady income. Toni, the administrative assistant for the Fine Arts and Communications Department, called everyone in to personally discuss the situation with them. By then, I had worked out my schedule, so the meeting was not necessary, but while I was there, trying to make sense of the regulations, I said to Toni, "So, if I need to make a little more money, I cannot work as a staff member (secretarial) for SLCC, correct?" I think that put something into perspective for her, as she was trying to make sense of the regulations as well. Anyway, the next week they reinstated my piano students, apologizing for the confusion and claiming that new light had been shed on the situation. Unfortunately, not many students registered, which I blamed on this mishap. I would later find out that Pam Jones had quit, they had hired a new teacher to pick up Pam's students, and that left me out. I don't know why they couldn't give me her students, except I think it was that I had only a master's degree.

Life continues under Obama.

Through the Eyes of an Immigrant - "Green Card"

I saw this movie years ago, in which Andie MacDowell made her debut to me; I thought she was very pretty and couldn't figure out how she could fall for the ugly Gerard Depardieu with his crooked nose, but it turned out to be a good show, and illustrates some of the problems immigrants have.

I meet a lot of people as a teacher at SLCC. They come from many different backgrounds. I know this because one of the assignments to create a Musical Heritage PowerPoint reveals their ethnicities. A student I had this past semester was found to be from Uruguay. He and his father and brother left Uruguay looking for something better in the US. It is hard for me to understand why anyone would travel to a different country with the hopes that things would be better. It seems that building a new life would be far more expense and mystery than what you would face if you stayed. Surely, these people must be guided.

Marcelo was a nice student, respectful, and not afraid to approach me. On a couple different occasions he stayed after class just to chat. I found out that he and his family have been in the US for 14-15 years. They left Uruguay because employment conditions were very difficult. His father, who had a college degree, was not able to produce enough money to buy basic necessities. Unfortunately, that degree has been useless in the US.

Marcelo remembers his father applying for a passport and visa at the immigration office. He had to prove that he and his sons would be returning. His father did not sell his house. Instead, he gave it to some relatives, who, he proved to the officials, would be taking care of it while he was "visiting" America.

They lived as illegal aliens for eight years. Marcelo feared officials in all corners of life: school, work, government. He recalls being afraid of being found out and being sent back. His father emphasized being a good student, a good employee, and a good person so that no one would look into their background. Finally, they saved enough money to go before the immigration officials to request citizenship. They hired an immigration attorney - the cost was $7500. That was a discounted price because Marcelo and his brother were minors. Normally, it would have been $10,000. It was not a requirement to have an attorney, but the attorney knew the ins and outs of the law, so the chance of a successful outcome was better. They received their "permanent resident" cards, which expire after ten years.

As a "permanent resident," Marcelo served an LDS mission. He is now pursuing an education and looking forward to possibly getting married to a girl he is presently dating. The term paper he submitted to fulfill one of the requirements of the class was the best I had read from someone who had English as his second language. It was well researched and engaging. The grammar was well done; he received one of the higher scores in my classes. Apparently, he had taken AP English in high school. He speaks pretty good English, but I can tell he keeps up with his Spanish. Asked whether Marcelo thought the US should drop the immigration laws, he said, "No, that process needs to be done, but the cost is the problem."