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From the Lord of Petworth mail bag came the above picture with this note:

Here’s a picture of the water spot on my ceiling. My four-year-old says it looks like a pooping turtle.

Cheers!
Emily

I have to hand it to Emily’s youngster–it does kinda look like a turtle making a (slow) dash away from its own poo.

Seeing as we have so many people with water stains, damp walls, and various drenched things, I’m curious if others have spotted pooping turtles, Jesus, the face of Satan, or other unusual markings in their rain-soaked stuff.

If so, post a picture and leave a link.

A reader request:

I know you have posted about peoples’ lost pets, wallets and even umbrellas. I’m hoping you might be able to post about my stolen motorcycle. My beloved ride is a 2-tone black and silver 2000 Honda Shadow ACE 750. My Poor-Man’s-Harley was taken from in front of my house near 14th and Newton some time last night…the same night I brought it home from a thorough tune-up at Modern Classics. I was hoping you might post this email along with the picture to see if someone spots it being ridden, hidden or ditched. Worst of all? My job has recently moved me out to Virgina so I need it now more than ever! ( 2 trains + a bus into Arlington is going to SUCK)

Here’s a FAQ for PoPville:

– I’m pretty sure that it is a “near one of a kind” bike in this area – 2-tone black and silver Honda crusier-style bikes are NOT common around here. That’s why I’m thinking PoPville might actually be able to help me. This isn’t a silver Honda Accord we’re talking about.

– It was parked legally. Just in case I’m an idiot, I checked DCDMV and DPW to see if it has been ticketed or towed. No luck there.

– I have already filed a police report at the 3D substation, called my insurance company, and asked some of my old-school neighbors to keep an eye out. Police have given me a report number. Insurance won’t even start the claim process until 3 weeks have elapsed. Old school neighbors have promised to look around.

– I have lived in CH since 2004, and been parking the bike on the street in this neighborhood since I first bought it. No one has ever tried to steal it before.

– I did not leave the keys in it.

– I am a year-round rider and it is my primary means of transport so it doesn’t sit on the street for long periods. It was my plan to aggressively maintain and ride the bike until it’s last breath in another 10-15 years, so simple replacement with insurance money is sub-optimal.

– I would *greatly* appreciate any help in recovering the bike. (Money, food, beer, and public adulation are all on the table)

Thanks,
El Gringo

Anyone have a tip?

If you’ve been watching television for the past two nights, you’ve probably seen dozens of politicians talking about jobs. Jobs, jobs, jobs. Not to make light of our economic woes, but listening to this rhetoric, you’d think that the answer to everything is to utter the word “JOBS!”

What is the answer to our dependence on foreign oil. “JOBS!”

What’s the cure for cancer? “JOBS!”

How do we find Moammar Gadhafi? “JOBS!”

What is 13 Down in the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle? “JOBS!”

What do we do about unemployment? “JOBS!”

So with all this talk about jobs, I’d like to pose a hypothetical question.

If the President came to you to lead the PoPville Jobs Program–which provided funding for ONE job that you could use to do anything in our fair city–what would it be? One job to improve life in our fair city?

(Of course, nothing says government program than having a staff person hired to manage one job–but let’s look beyond that.)

You could answer by thinking of something practical like hiring a crossing guard outside of a senior center–or you could hire someone to cut the lawns at vacant property on your block (my personal choice).

Or perhaps you’d rather hire someone to correct the grammar and spelling on corner store signage.

Your choice.

So share your ideas for the ONE job in the PoPville jobs program. What should it be?

From the Lord of Petworth mail bag:

Your Majesty,

I sent this to princeofpetworth@gmail, but if the Prince is away, and
you asked for us readers to ask your advice, so I hope it isn’t gauche
for me to send it to you here as well.

I am almost done with renovations on a house at 11th & V. It’s a 2,500
sq ft (232 m^2) house, 4 bedrooms. I and my gal will be living in the
bedroom on the top floor, and will be renting out the other three, at
which point I guess this counts as a group house.

I’d like your and/or your readers’ advice on how one goes about starting
up a group house. What do residents around here look for? Should I meet
with applicants individually, host an open house? Anything I should look
for/avoid in applicants? And since your readers like to comment on these
things, what’s the going rate these days for a room in a group house (a
block from the U Street metro! Pre-Civil War house newly renovated! 200
sq ft bedrooms! Tall ceilings! Vegetarian kitchen! Spacious front/back
yards! Must see!)?

Thanks,

Ben

Any advice for the reno-group-lovin’ Ben?

Good morning PoPville.

Welcome to the second and final day of this mini-reign of the Lord of Petworth. I am especially happy that, for the first time, I have managed to get through an entire day of filling in for the Prince without embarrassing myself, my neighbors, or (most of) you.

You folks were great yesterday too–playing along well and (kinda) well with each other. I laughed several times at your comments (and then there were the funny ones).

If you have items you’d like to suggest for me today–I’m all ears.

I’m still waiting for those advise questions to roll in. Perhaps you are too shy–perhaps you are too smart.

Regardless, reach me at eric dot nuzum at gmail dot com.

Have a great day.

I recently had a conversation with a friend that stuck with me. I mentioned I was going to stop by my neighborhood liquor store for some, as I call it, “Eric’s Pain Go Bye-Bye Juice.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t do that,” she remarked.

After repeatedly saying that, no, I didn’t have a problem, she stopped me to say:

“No, what I mean is that when you patronize those places, you are supporting them and all the things that come along with them.”

She then listed off a litany of issues: serving the obviously intoxicated, loitering, drug activity, petty crime–all things that she felt gravitated around the liquor store. Her logic: get rid of the store, get rid of the problem. If you can’t get rid of the store, at least don’t shop there.

I had a different view. I think its naive to think that all those problems “go away” if a store isn’t there. All those things will still happen, just perhaps not in that location. So, if that’s the case, why would patronizing it make any difference?

Therefore, shopping at said liquor store is not a tacet endorsement of all those horrible things she mentioned.

What do you think? Who is right? Or, more than likely, is neither of us right?

From the Lord of Petworth mail bag:

Lord Eric,

I’m moving out of Petworth next week and wanted some suggestions for a last meal in the neighborhood. I was hoping people might be able to suggest some neighborhood highlights and institutions that I should hit up before I become a tourist to 14th St heights.

Thanks,

Eliza Q

Personally, I’d suggest Bill’s Seafood Kitchen or The Hitching Post, but who cares what I think.

What do you think, PoPvillians? What taste should linger in Eliza’s mind as her final Petworth meal?

If you complain about the smallness of your 400 sq ft studio apartment, in five minutes you won’t feel so bad…

Lately I’ve been kind of obsessed with learning about tiny houses. These places aren’t 1400 sq ft–or 400 sq ft. These are fully functional houses smaller than a walk-in closet. Seriously, many are less than 100 sq ft. The guru of this movement is Jay Shafer (he has a company that manufactures these homes which is a fascinating browse).

Many of the homes Jay and others design and build have tiny living rooms, tiny kitchens, tiny bathrooms, a loft for a sleeping space, etc. They are built on flatbed trailers (because they are too small for code-approved foundations) and are kinda like a motorhome or RV in how they are set-up and work. But people live in these things. Here is a page–with a lot of pictures–for the house design that many people seem to favor.

It seems like a kinda cool idea.

I’ve long had a fantasy of buying some land down in the Shenandoah Valley and building an off the grid weekend cabin there. So I tend to immediately think of these for that use. But then a larger question came to me:

Could these be practical for city living?

Let’s say you live by yourself. How much space do you really need? Could something like this be practical?

Jay Schafer, the tiny house guru guy, built his first tiny house and parked it in his backyard. He then rented out his “normal” house, living in the tiny house.

Could you ever see yourself living in a place like this? Do you think it would be practical?

Geez. Can we get a little rain here?

In case you haven’t noticed, it has been quite damp over the past few weeks. It seems like Mother Nature has suddenly decided to make good on all the rain we’ve been missing since, well, February.

I’m sure the mosquitos love it, but I, for one, am just about soggied out.

Makes me think of good stories of rain, flood, excessive water, etc.

You may be wondering what I could possibly mean by “good stories” about rain and floods. I mean those times when you stop and think, “You know, this will be very funny someday, but not right now.” Then you go back to shoving the mud and grossness out of your basement apartment kitchen.

I have one–which I’m sure you can top in the comments section.

A few years ago my decidedly non-camping wife gave me a great birthday present–a weekend of “camping” in a treehouse cabin. Seriously, it was awesome. Or would have been awesome. The treehouse cabin sat right along the banks of the Shenandoah River. If you have ever spent much time near the Shenandoah River, you know that it floods whenever someone pours a warm beer out into it. And when it floods, it goes so in a glorious manner.

It had been raining for days before we showed up. While it was dry, it was obvious that the Shenandoah was feeling a little…bloaty.

When we showed up at the treehouse, we could see that the river bank was rising.

Who cares, you might think. You are in a treehouse. But that’s half the problem. If you go up into the treehouse–and it floods–how do you get out?

The owner, probably hoping he wouldn’t have to refund our money, tried to convince us to stay.

“Hell, if the river hasn’t gone down by the time you leave–I’ll come get you out with a canoe,” he generously offered.

“But what if we have to go to the bathroom?” I asked.

He looked puzzled.

“I mean, if I’m up in the treehouse…with no rest facilities…what if, I don’t know, I have to go to the bathroom during the weekend?”

“Come on,” he exclaimed. “Just go off the side!”

You can imagine how this went down with my non-camping wife.

We ended up spending the night in an (empty) boy scout camp on the property, with my wife pretty much begging me to go home in the morning.

Water in the basement, swollen rivers, etc. What are some of your rain/water stories?