Exactly a week ago, my father-in-law and I tackled a two-day project to cover the old basement floor of my home office with a product called DRIcore subfloor. Last Friday, I blogged about the history of the home office and detailed the ongoing struggle to keep the floor painted and dry. I finally concluded that based on counsel from others, DRIcore appeared to be the best product for me. The fact of life is that for many older basements (our basement floor was poured in 1926) there simply is no easy way to eliminate all moisture. As the DRIcore website says, “98 % of basements will have a moisture problem.” Lifting my house and pouring a new basement floor simply isn’t an option for me, and running a dehumidifier around the clock is costly as well. The benefit of DRIcore is that it actually raises the floor by about three-quarters of an…
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The summer of 2006 is one I’ll never forget. Fresh off a layoff, I was working FedEx and editing a few projects, hoping to find enough work to stay home and not have to sell our circa. 1926 house and move. At the same time, my parents and my wife’s parents came alongside and decided to help. And help they did. We had an eyesore of an old basement rec room that needed a complete overhaul for me to claim it as “home office” and location for my freelance writing. lt was a very hot summer, and I set up my editing and writing workstation on the dining room table. I worked there after FedEx and between projects tackling that old rec room and converting it into a home office. Frankly, it’s not a a summer I’d want to do over again, but God sustained us. In fact, He provided everything…
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It’s weekends like this one, when family and friends observe July Fourth traditions over hamburgers, junk food, and fire crackers, that many of us reflect on those who paid the ultimate price to give us freedom. For me the holiday is also filled with memories of my dad driving my mom, me, and my three siblings to St. Clair, Michigan, to spend the day with his parents, Grandma and Grandpa Blumer, and my many cousins, aunts, and uncles. My grandparents lived at 232 South 9th Street in a tan two-story frame house much like those around it. My dad and his four brothers grew up in this house (wish I had a photo of it). Unfortunately, the place has long since been sold after Grandma Blumer passed away on January 15, 2000, after a stroke at age 87. She knew her Savior and is surely spending days of wonder at…
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Over the last week or so, I had the awesome privilege of literally unplugging, grabbing some suitcases, hopping on an Amtrak (California Zephyr) for a first-class family trip to Grand Junction, Colorado, and spending three days touring southwestern Colorado in a rented van. We had a once-in-a-lifetime experience: I got away from my computer for a while; spent some quality time and conversation with my wife, daughters, and in-laws; and enjoyed God’s amazing handiwork manifested in ice-capped mountaintops, plunging canyons, raging rivers, and the stunning genius of His creation. I’ll never forget it. The train was amazing. We ate steak in the dining car (completely spoiled!) and even had a family bedroom (it was tiny but workable). One feature that made the train trip especially memorable was the sightseeing car. This car featured lots of oversize windows (even on the ceiling) and comfy seats facing the windows to afford the most…
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