Window replacement day three, a whole lotta no progress.

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Two brand new custom built windows…

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Installed and leaking air like a sieve through gaps on the sides.

So yesterday our contractor spent 8 full hours tinkering and tweaking, measuring and leveling, reading pamphlets and instructions, searching the internet for alternative installation instructions trying to figure out what was wrong. He’s a precise and careful worker and wanted to solve the problem.

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He took them out, he put them back in. He shimmed, he measured, he leveled 100 times. He completely exhausted his bag of tricks and still came up empty handed.

A testament to his honesty and character? He didn’t charge us for a single minute. He has a new wife and baby at home and lost an entire day’s pay trying to make it right.

When he hit a brick wall, he harangued the company where the windows were purchased and insisted their representative come inspect the problem.

So now we wait.

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While the other three uninstalled windows take up residence in front of my car.

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And btw…

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If anyone is in need of roughly 120 Life magazines from the 1940’s?

I can hook you up.

Just don’t tell my husband.

🤣

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The Fryeburg Fair, part eight…. baaa-d weather et al.

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As I mentioned earlier… the day we chose to go to the fair was overcast and gloomy, though you wouldn’t know it by the crowds.

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But as the day progressed it got darker and we were dodging raindrops by running in and out of livestock buildings.

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During a particular steady shower?

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Sheep.

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Some dressed in coats.

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The variety of wool was impressive and it was nice to find someone with curlier hair than mine for a change.

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But my favorites?

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The Jacobs with their ridiculously weird horns.

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They love a good scratch…

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But don’t tug on the headgear or you’ll get bitten.

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The little guys are so sweet.

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And while it may have been awful outside the building …

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It was dry and comfy under the big roof.

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Window replacement project, day two… things did not improve.

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When I left you yesterday, one window had been installed, and clearly it had issues.

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Many calls were made by our contractor to the store, the supplier and the company rep, but while he waited for answers he decided to replace the other window of the exact same size to see if the same issue cropped up.

This being our house, of course it did.

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The framing was measured six ways to Sunday before installation and all was well. Plum, level and perfect.

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Yet when the new window was plopped in, there was a similar gap on the side. Our contractor is flummoxed. So much so, he called other carpenter friends for advice, but everything they told him to do… he’d already done.

Did I mention the husband is not pleased and kept going in to help (read… talk the ears off) the contractor?

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It was beyond aggravating… and at the end of the day we had two new expensive windows in the bedroom, neither of which were airtight.

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But hey…there was an extra long shim in place that did double duty as a clock shelf , so it wasn’t a total loss.

😩

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The pumpkin regatta.

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A few days ago I posted a couple of pictures of the annual Damariscotta Pumpkin Festival. This coastal Maine town takes its giant gourds seriously with a weeks worth of celebrations that ends with the most popular event…

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The Pumpkin Regatta. We didn’t go, but it’s so delightfully quirky I have to share some of the photos I saw on the news.

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Definition of a pumpkin regatta – oddly dressed people cut big holes in oddly decorated hollowed out pumpkins and take to the water.

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Sometimes the spectators are oddly dressed as well.

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The Regatta is well attended and covered by the local media.

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A Viking Longboat?

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It’s not long, but why not?

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There was even a gnome.

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I always wonder how this tradition got started.

Who looked at a big pumpkin and thought, put an outboard on that and you’ve really got something.

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Of course some entries do it the old fashioned hand powered way. And from the look of this picture, paddling slowly is not the way to go.

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Mainers.

Ya gotta love ‘em.

🤣

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And so it begins. Badly, of course.

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It started with our contractor being 3 hours late. Not a big deal in the scheme of things, but he was pissed because the windows we ordered were supposed to be delivered for free the day before and weren’t. This meant he had to empty his trailer and go get them himself which cost him… thankfully not us … 3 hours of work time.

By early afternoon, we had a hole in the bedroom where the old window was removed.

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The hole of which I had to make sure Lord Dudley Mountcatten was unaware, lest he take a flying leap to freedom.

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According to our contractor the old windows were installed incorrectly without the proper tape, sealants and secure flanges which would explain the leakage and rotted wood.

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Properly taped, the new window was installed.

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Mind you, we didn’t cheap out here and ordered some pretty expensive Marvin replacements. I expected them to be awesome.

The first one wasn’t.

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Though everything was level, flush and plumb with the frame, the bottom part of the window not only had a scratch in the glass but showed gaps to the outside on either side.

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And while I enjoy looking out the window? I don’t want to be able to stick things out the window.

Clearly something was wrong.

Of course it was… because no project ever goes smoothly at Casa River.

The poor contractor spent all afternoon taking it in and out thinking it was his fault, but it doesn’t seem to be. A manufacturing error… on our custom made expensive as shit window?

Grr…

And because we needed more bad news? Even if the contractor manages to solve the gap problem, our existing sill and trim don’t line up now and will all have to be replaced. Which will be true for the other four as well.

More work. More expense.

Why is nothing ever easy?

😩

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Fryeburg Fair, part seven… wagons and carts and beer. Oh my.

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Aside from wall to wall cows, my other favorite part of the Fryeburg fair is the carriage museum.

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These beauties are well cared for and painstakingly restored to their former glory.

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Spit on the leeward side. There must be a reason for that…

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A fire hose cart.

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Gypsy wagon.

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Pretty tight living quarters.

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All cars go to Bloomies.

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Snake oil peddler’s wagon.

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Now that’s a beer cart.

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This hearse was fabulous… and delightfully creepy.

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What fresh (ditch) hell is this?

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Our ditch is the gift that keeps on giving.

Or more accurately, the nightmare that never ends at this point.

It’s also why after my husband complained yet again to DOT, we woke up to this the other morning.

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A crew of workers with multiple pieces of heavy machinery …

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Spreading a line of dirt right next to the road.

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Which in theory sounded good.

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But in actuality will make no difference or help the original erosion problem.

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Because after sweeping it…

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The packer didn’t pack it.

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But road his little machine on the very edge of the road never compacting or even touching the dirt.

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WTH?

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We’d just started to see some grass grow on the sides which we were hoping would keep the erosion to a minimum…. and now there’s more unpacked dirt to wash away.

Where’s the logic in this?

Where….

🥴

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Fryeburg Fair, part six… husband heaven.

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What is it with men and motors?

For my husband the older the better, so he was fascinated to see these vintage ( read, old as dirt) machines up and running.

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His favorite?

The double log splitter.

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I swear he could have stood there all day and listened to it belch purr.

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Ditto the corn sprayer…

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And the shingle cutter.

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Machine or no, that’s a lot of work.

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He also got a large kick out of this relic on the right.

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An early self propelled lawn mower. Christ, it would have to be… it probably weighed 300 lbs.

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Fryeburg Fair, part five… the husband’s favorite section.

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While I love seeing the animals at a fair, my husband prefers the old and rusty things in the village of yesteryear.

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Some interest him from an engineering stand point, some remind him of his childhood on the farm.

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Yes, he spread his share of manure when he was a boy.

Good times.

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There’s a wonderful museum at the Fryeburg Fair filled with antiques. The old wall phone I want to put in the man cave, the one that I’ve been endlessly searching for was right there in the middle… in perfect shape and mocking me with its unavailability.

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Husband got a kick out of these old washing machines.

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This one was called Easy and never has a product been more egregiously misnamed.

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The husband, pointing out all the rusty crap he has at home.

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I can’t imagine dragging this behemoth around every time I wanted to take a picture.

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And because no post about old tools is complete without a game of Name That Crap..

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What is it?

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