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Our general contractor Margie Tucker had gently suggested that I clear off the (currently only) house porch for Thursday, when the Tour of Remodeled Homes pre-show judges were slated to come see if our home is worthy of the March 2009 show.�

Apparently she thought the prospects of judges passing a couple of hundred pounds of produce--some of which smelled better than others--might not make the best impression.

I agreed. But I did it one step better and created a back porch that would have made Martha Stewart proud, complete with pine cones, three types of gourds and a wooden bench that I carved out of tree branches that morning. I also put some red wine-poached pears with cinnamon and ginger in a warming kettle on the stove, emitting a lovely harvest-time smell that easily masked that of, well, everything else.

The Tour caravan called and moved up their arrival by two hours, clearly Part 1 of the test.

We were ready. Celine was looking her cutest. The framers (Mark Hughes Constructionapos;s--Mark H., Owen, Josh, Richard and Fred) were practically running to get a lot done quickly and even moved a bit faster when they had an audience. In top form, Margie lead the group through the house.

I showed a few "before" house pictures and explained to one participant my rationale behind having a stuffed rat in our wall mail slot. Then, In less time than it takes for a Superbowl commercial break, they had gone. Whew. Time will tell of our success.

Given the backbreaking cleaning effort yesterday, Iapos;d planned to sleep in this morning to treat myself. Owen, a compressor�and a sawzall planned differently. It sounded louder than usual, I recall telling Lori. Despite all the construction noise, it really was Loriapos;s alarmed shriek that brought me to my feet at 8:35 a.m.�

Sheapos;d been ironing a shirt she planned to put on for work when she noticed that the window adjacent my desk near the living room was missing, entirely--something we hadnapos;t expected to happen for a couple of weeks. (Weapos;d been planning to move all of our computer gear so it wouldnapos;t be exposed to dust.)

Loriapos;s shriek erupted when she saw that four framers were eye level outside, only a cheap mostly-closed mini-blind away. The men politely pretended theyapos;d seen nothing, but they seemed a bit cheerier than usual. Cheerier, that is, until I started the video camera and made Owen put out his cigarette.

The framers had taken out the window early, said Owen, because the edge of it was too near another wall that they were erecting today. He apologized, but I proceeded to "torture" the men by playing a very loud apos;80s politically correct womenapos;s song called "Spent my last $10 on birth control and beer."

Who was that band? asked Richard. I said it was Two Nice Girls. "Which two?" he asked. "I only date nice girls," Owen chimed in.

Buoyed by the early morning escapade, the framers finished nearly the entire first floor of the addition, using a sort of lever to mechanically raise an entire side at a time.

Fred, in particular, seems to have no fear of heights. Heapos;s deaf but that doesnapos;t hinder his work; if anything heapos;s better off given the tool noises. He can balance on a narrow beam holding a nail gun with the ease of a ballroom dancer. Josh is the go-to guy and does much of the sawing and hefting, all wearing his Padres ball cap. Richard, Owenapos;s uncle,�helps out wherever needed--doing the jobs nobody else wants to do, according to him.

Owen seems to be the ad hoc leader when Mark Hughes is off site. A good-natured guy, mostly, although he groaned a bit this afternoon when I brought out the camera yet again.

"At least youapos;re dressed," I retorted, a reference to his morning peep show. "I look better when Iapos;m not," said Owen, coyly. Richard beat me to a retort, quipping, "No, he donapos;t."




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