Last night I helped a good friend of mine get a fresh-cut Christmas tree. I've always had artificial trees, so it was the first time I got to go to a tree farm.

Well ... We didn't feel like driving 30 miles, so went to the local hardware store instead. It's just as magical and festive. Right? Anyway, she found the perfect tree immediately. We went inside and found out that the price had been reduced. YAY! While at the register, the cashier managed to talk us into buying a 'tree bag'. (If you happen to encounter a 'tree bag' EVER in your life, run. Run as fast as you can) It seemed like a good idea. The picture on the packaging showed the bag being lifted over the tree effortlessly. The whole point being, that the bag would save you the hassle of picking up a bazillion needles once the tree was to be discarded. We, of course, thought that was a brilliant invention, bought it, and never once questioned the physics behind the 'bag'.

Once we left the interior of the store, another clerk met us in the tree lot to give the truck a trim and carry it to our car. We got the tree into the house perfectly, but all sorts of frustrating events were to follow. First off, that darn 'tree bag' made NO sense, nor did it have instructions. It was basically a giant white trash bag ... except there wasn't a hole in the bottom for the trunk to go through. How can the tree get water if it's wrapped in plastic? Well, we poked a hole in it. That was easy. That was the only thing that was easy. The blasted tree wouldn't fit into the tree stand. We had to saw off extra branches. It was crooked once it fit in the stand, not to mention bare.

After about a half an hour of sawing branches and getting our sappy hands stuck to the darn 'tree bag,' we gave up. It ended up looking just fine and now she has extra branches to make garland or wreaths with. The only bad thing is that she will now have to hire a painter and someone to buff her hardwoods. The slamming of the tree into the stand really scratched up her floors. Alright, that's enough for today. I'm getting irritated just thinking about that bag.

— Jackie B. 

They say one of the truisms of parenting is that you really don’t fully get it until you’ve done it. I’ve always known that’s true – I did my share of babysitting in my teen years, and have a reasonable ability to change a diaper and feed a cranky little one, but I knew full well I wasn’t in the “fully committed” stage. That all changed when my first son, Armand Zefram Pogue, came along earlier this year; nowadays I have an instant internal radar that pretty much constantly appraises every room I'm in for potential crawling-baby disaster zones. This is especially annoying when I'm not even with the little fellow and start analyzing lunch spots for safety, but hey, it's a small price to pay for good habits.

It tends to affect how I use the List, too; I certainly have “childproofing services” a lot higher on the lookup list for me these days! But in addition to all the things on the List you might expect, you never know what else you might get. My favorite bit of baby-friendly wackiness on the List as of late was shown to me by a coworker yesterday: A cake company that, for a youngster’s first birthday, created not only an R2-D2 cake for eating, but a cake replica of the R2 dome, called a “smash cake,” pretty much for the express purpose of letting the birthday boy clobber, smash and throw around cakey pieces to their heart’s content. Now, this is not a new idea at all – when I was young, we always gave the little ones a small piece of cake that we knew full well would be a party casualty – but the idea of a cake specifically for smashing is GENIUS. Carrying one step further to making it an R2-D2 smashable cake rises to the level of GLORIOUS. I always lamented that growing up would mean putting aside childish things; now I know that raising little Armand just means I now have a perfect excuse to indulge in kid-friendly stuff again. For his first birthday, given that he’s being raised in a “Doctor Who”-loving household, I have just three words: Dalek Smash Cake.

Which isn’t to say I’ve left behind responsibility, either (hence all those childproofing searches!) Our little Houdini wannabe has a truly supernatural knack for getting exactly where he’s not supposed to be, no matter how well we cordon them off. (Amazing how well eight-month-olds can climb even though they haven’t worked out walking yet.) It’s something we constantly keep in mind as we think about future house work, whether it be remodeling and repairs or just remaining aware of that’s in the paint. (When reporting on the lead paint story we did a few months back, I heard just about every horror story you can imagine about what lead paint does to little kids. Fortunately for Armand and my own peace of mind, our home is lead-free.)

Nonetheless, parenting means keeping a nonstop watchful eye. You can plug up every power outlet with plastic protectors, and the intrepid child will just go hunting for power cords instead and see what happens when he tugs on them – corralling Armand away from cords is probably the most time-consuming part of taking care of him! It’s just one more reminder that all the safety equipment in the world can’t make up for the most important parenting tool: Constant vigilance!

-- Paul F. P. Pogue

 

The holidays are always stressful. It’s just a given. There’s shopping to do, money to spend. My schedule is quite full as I try to work ahead so I can rest and relax during my much-needed vacation time. So it only figures that everything around my house and even my vehicle starts demanding attention and dollars right now. Everything seems to need fixing all at once. This weekend alone, one of my shower faucets quit working, my hot water heater started to fizzle out, a drain clogged and my car’s maintenance light flicked on.

I think I’ll just add these chores to the endless list of projects I plan to accomplish come the first of the year, when home repair contractors and myself are a little less overwhelmed. That's what New Year's resolutions are for — making us feel less guilty for all of our current shortcomings! Until then, I plan to take a lukewarm bath, drink some eggnog and mentally prepare for Christmas at the in-laws. At least I have my dog, Buddy, to keep my spirits up. Buddy and I both wish you all a very happy holiday.

-Brittany Paris

 

And I mean that quite literally. Not only am I the new kid around the office, I'm also the new kid in town (and just to be clear, I use the term "kid" VERY loosely). My family and I moved here a few months ago, and it’s been quite an experience adapting to a new city. From what I’ve seen so far, Indianapolis is a great town. But moving to any new place can be quite intimidating – at least for me.

We purchased a house, and while it’s a relatively new construction, I immediately produced a list of home improvement projects I’d like to tackle. You know, basic things like: build additional cabinets in the kitchen, replace the tacky linoleum with 18” stone tile, and put in some decent carpet so my son has a cushy place to land while he learns to crawl. Now, if only a long-lost, filthy-rich relative would pass and leave me enough money to do all of those things... but I digress.

There were a few things I needed to take care of right away though, and having Angie’s List as a resource has proved to be invaluable. I needed to hire an exterminator (√) and have my windshield replaced (√). I also used the List to research day care options – who knew?  When you’re new to the area and don’t know a soul, the reports posted on Angie’s List quickly become your new best friends.

I’m sure my list of “to-do” items will grow steadily longer as I find more improvements I want to make around the house.  Then the debate will begin – can I do it myself or should I hire someone? Ah, the eternal struggle of a homeowner. I’m just glad I have Angie’s List to rely on.

-Staci G.

Just about everyone likes having holiday decorations in their home. But quite a few people dread the work—getting boxes out of the attic, decorating the Christmas tree or stringing up lights outside—that comes with it.

And then there are some people who just love the decorating. Some enjoy it so much, in fact, that they tend to go overboard and end up with a home that could rival Clark Griswold’s.

My parents fall in that first group. They like their decorations but don’t enjoy taking the time to climb up in the attic or unpack the boxes—at least not when their kids are home and could do it instead! They took advantage of having my brother and me in town for a few days around Thanksgiving by asking us to unpack the decorations and put up the tree. However, we don’t enjoy the decorating much, either; my mom had to bribe both of us (“I’ll buy each of you a case of beer if you'll just do some of this!”) to get us to help out. (For what it’s worth, we were actually very enthusiastic helpers when we were younger.) The tree actually took two days to decorate: After figuring out how to set it up and then stringing on lights, what little enthusiasm we had was gone, and the ornaments had to wait until the next afternoon.

When I got back to Indianapolis after Thanksgiving, though, it was a whole different story. You see, my roommate is one of those people that can’t get enough of Christmas—or Christmas decorations.

I can’t say she didn’t warn me. We’d already planned to decorate our apartment together the Monday evening after Thanksgiving. This already meant some compromising on her part; she told me she’s used to decorating the day after Thanksgiving and wasn’t sure about the idea of waiting a few extra days. She also said she had boxes of decorations stored at her sister’s house and that she’d have to go pick them up over the weekend.

It turned out she’d started unpacking and setting up some of her decorations before I got there, which ended up being a good idea because, just as she’d said, there were several large boxes of stuff. When I walked into that apartment, I felt like I wasn’t even in my own home. Or maybe it was my home—but it looked Santa Claus had thrown up all over the place. She’d already set up her big artificial tree and covered every surface in the place with tinsel, lights, or some sort of Christmas-y knickknack. (In her defense, she did have a houseful of stuff and only an apartment-sized space to decorate.)

The decorations that normally sit on our mantle or the shelves on one wall had been taken down and packed away, and figurines stood in their place. Snowmen. Santas. Candles. Christmas trees. Stars. Angels. You name it, it was there, and it was packed in tightly with no room to spare.

Miniature stockings hung off the ends of the shelves. One candle sat on top of the TV, and another sat on the island in the kitchen. Snowmen holding “Merry Christmas” signs hung from door handles, a miniature Christmas tree sat in the corner of the kitchen counter, and a large “Merry Christmas” sign hung over the kitchen sink. There was even a smiling snowman staring at me from his place by the thermostat. I spent a few seconds staring at all the Christmas tins and coffee mugs piled under the tree, wondering where I was supposed to put any presents (well, once I started my Christmas shopping).

The holidays are my favorite time of year. I love Thanksgiving and Christmas. And I like Christmas decorations. I like them a lot. But this? This was… well, I didn’t even know one person could own so much Christmas stuff.

The next step was to decorate the tree. First, though, I had to find my decorations. The box—one lowly box—was in the storage closet on our balcony. As I carried it in, my roommate eyed it and asked, innocently and completely seriously, “That’s it?”

I gave her a look and started unpacking. I had all my ornaments on the tree before she’d even carried hers to the tree.

But we weren’t finished yet. I had a tree of my own. It was much smaller and a little Charlie Brown-like, but we’d agreed to decorate it with lights and put it on the balcony. At the time, I’d thought a tree on the balcony might be tacky, but now that I was living in Santa’s Workshop, I wasn’t quite as worried. So we put several strands of blue (yes, blue) lights on it and set it outside. It actually looked pretty good. And I’m getting used to all the decorations in my apartment. I occasionally find myself thinking that I might even like some of them.

One of the lesser-known categories on Angie’s List is holiday decorating. People who enjoy decorating about as much as my parents should probably check the List to find someone to spend a few hours out in the cold, hanging up their Christmas lights.

And if people like my roommate want to earn some extra cash to help pay for Christmas presents, well, I think I know of a good part-time job for them to consider.

— Liz Vernon

Happy Holidays! Has that statement gotten on your nerves yet? It seems the added excitement of this time of year contributes large amounts of stress to our systems. You may be overburdened at work. Your house may need a few improvements. Your gas bill just tripled. Your kids still need tuition paid, food to eat and all the other regular neccesities. But all of this doesn't matter. You still have to navigate busy shopping malls to buy gifts for family members and friends you either dislike or like so much you feel guilty that you never see them enough. I have a great way to escape. No, it's not cow tipping. It's the December edition of Angie's List magazine.

It may be winter, but it's a great time to start looking for summer camps for the kids. If your in an area where the membership is large, check out our second feature on summer camps. If not, check it out online. There's some great ideas and tips. For example: Ever wish you could be James Bond for the summer? How about act on the same stage once performed on by Robert Downey Jr. or Natalie Portman? Your kids can. Pali Overnight Adventures in Southern California offers over 14 different specialty programs including thier Master Spy Institute, where kids get to learn how to ride an ATV, paintball, fingerprint and beat a lie detector test. Then there's Stagedoor Manor, a child acting summer camp located in upstate New York. With many indoor and outdoor stages, children produce and perform plays all summer long at Stagedoor.

Are you a space saver? Maybe a Murphy Bed would be a good fit. Featured this month in our Unusual Service column, Murphy Beds are those sleepers that flip up into a closet. Have you ever seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit? After you read our article, check it out. There's a great scene where animated Roger is caught hiding in Eddie Valiant's Murphy Bed. It's classic. Kinda like Coca-Cola...

But best of all is our feature. You may remember back in August we featured our campus and it's history. We asked for all Angie's List members to send in their home's stories and histories. I can safely say that not every Angie's List member responded to this request, but we did receive many, many responses. From a home lived in by Carey Grant to an old stop on the Santa Fe wagon trail, our members live in homes all of all shapes, sizes, colors and types. With a whole issue devoted last time to toilets, we decided to mix it up a bit. There's still tips on hiring painters, woodworkers, plumbers and general contractors - it wouldn't be an Angie's List magazine with out them. I mean, what would you do if your drain stops draining, paint starts peeling, plumbing starts leaking, gutters starts clogging or roof stops roofing - wait, scratch the last one.

Don't forget to keep posting those reviews on both good and bad contractors and handymen. The winter may be cold, putting a halt to your residential plans. You'll probably hold off till next summer for your remodeling project, but don't forget all those other categories that never relate to home improvement. Buying a billiard table for cheap Uncle Albert? You can post a review under BILLIARD TABLE SALES. Your massage therapist working overtime due to all this holiday stress? You can post a review under MASSAGE THERAPY. You could give a toilet to your cheap Uncle Albert (then post a review) but take it from me: it's a crappy gift.

Until next time,

Conor Lee

Quote for December 7th, 1978

"Santy Claus, why are you taking our Christmas Tree? Why?"

-Little Cindy-Lou Who, who is not more than two 

   

 

I was really having a difficult time coming up with a blog topic today, particularly after Palmer stole my idea for safe driving tips.

I thought telling everyone about the Publication Department's observance of Clark Griswold Day today, where we're decorating the interior of the Blue House with our cheesiest holiday decorations — and wearing our ugliest holiday sweaters to boot.

But since I didn't really have any decorations — all my cheesy holiday decorations are already up at home — or an ugly holiday sweater (I just wore one of my regular ugly, non-holiday sweaters as an alternative, but at least it's green!) I still needed a blog topic for today.

Then, I went to lunch, and on my way, I glanced down at my vehicle's odometer. It read 200,003.

That's right, sometime on my way to work today, my old Ford hit the big Two-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.

I can't help but feel a sense of pride for the old girl. When I got my Ford Explorer back in 2004, it was already 10 years old and past the 100,000-mile milestone.

I bought it on a whirlwind day when I took my even older Jeep in for some repairs and realized that the repairs would cost more than the rusty thing was worth. So I grabbed a newspaper, answered a classified ad, went for a test drive, went to the bank, got a loan, and had it home in time to go back to work that night.

I didn't even notice the pink pinstripe until the next day. I still just try to pretend it isn't there.

In the three-plus years I've had it, it's proven extremely reliable. Outside of routine maintainance, it's never needed any repairs. It's always started right up and it runs like like a top. Of course, I do realize I've just jinxed my vehicle in the worst way by posting that here.

It's gotten me through some brutal northeast Indiana snowstorms and carried me safely through exotic-sounding locales like Wawaka,Wakarusa, and La Paz. It's got plenty of room for my golf clubs and loads of other assorted junk. It's got magical four-wheel drive, and even a nifty little computer that tells me how far I can stretch my gas and when I need an oil change — pretty advanced for 1995.

I have been in one accident with it. I was taking a backroads shortcut last fall and an Amish man turned his horse and buggy into me as I passed him. The truck was OK — just a few scratches and a little dent by the rear right door — but I'm not so sure about the horse.

200,000 miles: That's 79 trips across the United States, more than 25 trips around the earth, and more than 80 percent of the distance to the moon. Not bad for a big, ugly, American gas-guzzling SUV.

The best part of all is that it's paid for, so I'll try to squeeze out another 200,000 miles if I can. Of course, that's not realistic, so luckily I've got Angie's List to help me out when I do need a mechanic.

In the meantime, I think my vehicle deserves a nice cleaning. Heck, I might even wash it.

— Eric Hartz

The first snowfall of the year arrived late last night, dropping a total accumulation of 3 inches of soggy snow, so far. My commute into work, about 8 miles through mostly urban corridors, was surprisingly stress-free — but I rely on years of snow-driving experience and I maintain an arrogant know-it-all-ness for all things manly and car-related.

 

A few winter weather driving tips:

• Yes, it's true: if you have a vehicle equipped with four-wheel drive, you can drive as fast as you possibly can. Four-wheel drive is magic!

No, not really. To be safe, you should drive just as slowly and carefully as everyone else. That way, people like me in two-wheel drive vehicles won't have to suffer heart attacks when we see your headlights approaching at autobahn speeds.

• If your vehicle is equipped with ABS (anti-lock braking system), let the system work. You'll know you car has ABS when, if you slam on the brakes in a skid in snow, you hear a "raaaawr" "raaaaawr" coming from your wheels. This is the vehicle's computer controlling the braking for you, applying pulses to the brakes to prevent skidding, negating any pedal stomping dance you may think will help. Having this system in place is no excuse for regular safe driving, however.

• If you start to slide, skid or slip on snow, slamming on the brakes or over-correcting your steering immediately isn't always the best course of action — it may make your lack of control worse. If you can do so safely, simply release pressure from the accelerator (or the brake, if applied) and turn the steering wheel in the direction you want the front of the vehicle to go, applying steady and gradual acceleration.

• If you do have an accident, and can do so, move your vehicle to a safe location away from the roadway. It's a good idea for your safety and will likely prevent more accidents. Another note, if your accident is minor and can be resolved with another driver by simply exchanging contact and insurance info, do so — the police don't need to be called to investigate every minor collision, and they're probably busy dealing with more serious accidents.

If you don't think about about driving in winter conditions safely, you may be soon checking Angie's List for towing companies, auto body shops and taxi services. That's all from me, happy and safe driving!

- Joshua Palmer

It was 50-some degrees in Indianapolis yesterday. It's below 30 today. I decided to take the opportunity offered by the warm weather to perform some maintenance on my house and clean the gutters, even though rain started pouring about halfway through my 3-hour travail. When I cleaned the gutters last year, there weren't many leaves in them. This year was different, though: one of my gutters was almost completely clogged with leaves and water, thanks to my neighbor's messy re-roofing job. You see, he had his roof replaced this summer, and though he promised he'd clean the debris up before my wife and I returned from our honeymoon, our house looked like a tar storm hit it when we got back. The aluminum siding was scarred with black goo, fingerprints, and dents. I politely requested several times that he come over and follow up on his promise to either clean the mess up himself or have his contractor do it, and each time my neighbor promised to do so ASAP. He never did. If there was a “Neighbors” category on Angie’s List, my neighbor would be in the Penalty Box.

So when I climbed the ladder and peered into the gutter closest to this neighbor's house, I wasn't surprised to find large bits of what was once his roof clogging one of my gutter's downspouts. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a LONG list of house-related to-do's, and cleaning my gutters wasn't at the top of this list. But because of the warm weather, I rather randomly decided to tackle the task of gutter cleaning yesterday, and I'm glad I did: had I waited much longer, there's a good chance the water would've frozen in the gutter and caused it to either sink or fall off my house. Not good. The work involved in cleaning the gutter, though, was healthy for me: I was completely worn out afterwards, which was nice because I didn't have to work out, as I've been doing almost daily for the past few weeks.

I'm an avid skiier, and thanks to Kelsey, our personal trainer at Angie's List, I've been exercising in a vigorous ski-training regimen for the past several weeks in preparation for a trip to Park City, Utah. Though the aftermath of my workouts is often painful, I can tell it's good for me: I have more energy than usual and don't feel guilty for being lazy when I get home from work. It's also good because I'll likely have more endurance (I haven't exercised much in previous years before going on ski trips) and won't be so sore so early on our trip. I'm usually in too much pain by the last day to even get out of bed, let alone get on the slopes for one more run.

So I've accomplished two tasks recently: I've cleaned my gutters and started on the path towards fitness. Even though I don't have need for a personal fitness trainer aside from Kelsey, and I didn't need to hire someone for gutter cleaning, it's nice to know I can go to the List for help if I do need those in the future. It's also nice, though, to know where I can find a good massage therapist after too much physical exertion.

-Tristan S.

(PS - I also tested my patience this weekend by DJing my friend's wedding. It was my first time, and perhaps my last [for free, at least]: I should've known that trying to appease several very different groups of people would've been difficult, especially with a half-broken reception-hall soundsystem. My advice to anyone looking for a wedding DJ? Find someone on Angie's List in Entertainment/Parties who has a track record of professionalism and patience. Or check back with me after I've returned from my relaxing ski trip.)

This weekend, I identified what my life’s crowning achievement will be: ascending the bowling ranks and becoming a professional bowler.

I’ve taken to the lanes as late as a form of winter entertainment. I haven’t played in quite a while, but now I’m quite sure I have what it takes to be a professional.

Here’s why. During my first three-game set a few weeks ago, I hit a high score of 105. That’s right, 105. I admit, that’s no “big league score,” but inspiring nonetheless. This Sunday, I rolled my trusty 14-lb. ball down those oil-sheened boards for a high score of 118. That’s a 13-point improvement in my game in under a month!

At this rate, by my estimate, I’ll be rolling perfect games in about 14 months. Me winning a PBA championship and dominating the professional bowling circuit for years to come is all but assured. You'll see my name among the greats like Mike Aulby, Walter Ray Williams Jr. and Randy Pederson.

 

But it won’t be without some professional help. I looked on Angie’s List for gutter repair (I’m good, but I still throw one now and again), but to my surprise I couldn’t find a single bowling-related service company. I’ll need a fitness trainer to make sure my body is at the top of its bowling prime (my first bowling outing resulted in a strained gluteus maximus, no joke). Of course, I’ll need an accountant to help me keep track all my sure-to-come PBA winnings; a realtor to help me find a luxurious new home; a carpenter to install a grand trophy case and a personal bowling alley at my luxurious new home; and a limousine service to make sure I arrive at the alley in grand style.

— Joshua Palmer

As an employee and member of Angie’s List, I check the List often. Recently I took part in a Quick Poll at angieslist.com that asks what type of home improvement or maintenance project is on tap for me in the coming months.

Not much for me, I thought smugly. I stay on top of things around my house. The gutters are clean, the leaves raked, the storm doors on and the outdoor furniture is stashed in the shed for the winter. The exterior doors were painted a while back and the deck got a good power wash, too.

I’m in good shape, I thought. Not too much needs done around my house.

But then the sun came out. While the sun brightens my mood, it also brightens the corners of my house — and the walls, and the floors, and the trim around the windows.

That’s when I noticed the wall next to the garage door had a few scratches on it. (Compliments of an impatient dog, waiting to go for a car ride. She’s 14, though, so she has a right to be temperamental.)

My kitchen was much brighter in the sunlight, too, which brought some scuffs in the flooring to my attention. And a well-lit trip down the hall prompted me to look up and see all the dust on the cold air return vent.

When I ventured out to the mailbox, the sun was shining brightly on the front of my house. That’s when I saw all the rain spots on my bay window. I also noticed some cracks in the caulking around the window.

As I walked down the driveway, a few more things came to my attention in the bright light. There’s a new crack in the concrete and the tree branches are hanging a bit too far over the edge of the drive where my daughter parks her car.

Back inside the house, I was determined to enjoy the sunshine and not let my growing list of home maintenance tasks get me down. But when I sat down on the couch to peruse a catalog, I saw a spot on the ottoman and a dust bunny under the entertainment center.

I found myself wishing for a dreary day so I wouldn’t see any more chores that needed tending to. That’s when I decided to make a list of home improvement projects for 2008. Now I’ll be checking Angie’s List for a painter, a tree trimmer and some concrete repair.

Funny how my life seemed sunnier until the sun actually came out.

— Amy Mastin 

My mechanic's face looked crestfallen when he came back from looking at my car, which had a busted fan. "Got good news and bad news for you, bro," he said. "The good news is that I checked out your fan's specs, and it has a recall on it, which means that if you bring your car back to your dealer, they'll fix it for free."

"And the bad news ... ?" I ventured.

The crestfallen look was replaced with a sly grin. "The bad news is I think I just talked myself out of a $200 job!"

 He was correct on that point, but he also talked himself into a lifelong customer -- he's always my first, second and third choice when something goes wrong, and I trust him completely. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to neglect to mention to me that I could get my problem fixed for free somewhere else. Heck, for that matter, it would have been even easier not to bother checking at all. In my time writing about contractors both good and bad for the Angie's List magazine, I've learned that the real test of a great contractor -- not just good, but great -- isn't just in their talent, professionalism or dedication, but also in how honest they are when nobody's looking. And when you find someone like that, they're worth keeping all the way.

 -- Paul F. P. Pogue

I have a tendency to let my gas tank go WAY past E, WAY past the slash and even further. I've been known to travel 10 to 15 miles AFTER the gas light comes on, before I will even consider filling up. I'm not sure why I do this. Some might say it's because I'm a rebel (in the true sense of the word), or maybe some think I'm just lazy. I would have to disagree. I think my defiant ways are a tribute to my favorite "Seinfeld" episode, "The Dealership" .

Regardless of my reasons, I am quite aware that this "isn't good" for my car. I think that I feel safe in my misguided ways since I know that if I ever need a good mechanic, I have access to the List. I've always kept up with any scheduled maintenance that my Honda Element requires and I'm sure my car appreciates my efforts. No professional has ever chastised me for letting the gas tank get so low (not that I offered up that information), so I guess I'll continue to push the limits.

I like to think of my car and I as a modern day Thelma and Louise. We have no need for improvements, other's rules or gas tank regulations. We'll just keep on keeping on ... until I run out of gas or off of a cliff. Whichever comes first. 

—Jackie Browning

Ever since I moved into my house more than a year ago, I’ve had a never-ending project list. It’s my first home, so I guess I’m a little over-eager to get all of the repairs and improvements done right away.  Updating the kitchen with ceramic tile and new appliances ranked at the top of the to-do list when my husband and I first settled in. Heck, it took us almost a month after our move-in date to get an oven and a refrigerator (I’m not much of a cook). Then we proceeded to paint every single wall, ceiling and piece of trim in the place. The previous owners apparently thought burning wood in the natural gas fireplace was a brilliant way to save money during the winter. Too bad it completely turned every surface black with soot! After all that redecorating, our progress pretty much came to a halt. But — albeit it 14 months later — I’m happy to report we bought a huge pallet of beautiful, beige ceramic tile last night. My new floor should be complete just in time for the holidays. Then it’s off to the next project…

-Brittany Paris

I recently paid off my car, which means no more payments! Freedom from car debt! More money in my pocket! Ownership!

Right? Well, kind of.

Just a few weeks prior to this monumental occasion, a co-worker and I were joking about the "payoff curse" phenomenon. We both recounted stories of how this friend or family member paid off his or her car only to be faced with a hefty repair charge. It's ultimate irony, and it completely supports the theory of Murphy's Law. Of course, I didn't seriously consider that this would happen to me (although I had fleeting moments of fear that it would).

And it did. Two weeks to the day after I received the title to my little Ford Escort, I got in my car on a rainy night and noticed that 1) the windows were really foggy and 2) it was unusually quiet in my car considering I had the heater cranked up to high.

It took me a few days of denial and another day or two of delusional thinking that I could fix it myself before I resigned to the fact that I was just another victim of the "payoff curse."

Car repairs are always nerve-racking, mostly due to the fact that I have a very limited understanding of how my car functions. A mechanic could tell me I needed the doppledoohickey replaced in my exhaust system and I'd ask how much that'd cost. Having access to a list of auto mechanics that others have found to be reputable is a huge help to the likes of me.

Luckily, I had already found a great auto shop from the List before my car's heat outage. The reviews on this shop are great, and they gave the overall sense that the mechanics are honest. And they are, from my experience. Even better, they routinely have coupons, which saved me money on getting my car's heater fixed.

So, now that I own my car, I see that the payments don't really stop and it doesn't necessarily mean more money in my pocket. Payments are replaced by repairs, but at least repairs aren't as frequent. At least, I hope.

— Mandy Miller

It's that time of the year. It's November. That means turkey-football-family-eat-too-much-fall-asleep-on-the-couch-so-my-younger-cousins-can-draw-on-my-face Day. How do we in the publication department at Angie's List celebrate the most American holiday of the year? We devote a whole issue of our magazine to toilets.

Check out this month's Between the Lines. A member praised Apollo Drain & Plumbing Inc., Portland, Ore., for their quick attention and speedy response to a bone stuck in a toilet. Yes, a bone stuck in a toilet. Thanks to Apollo's 24-hour emergency service, the member was able to have the contractor pressure wash the bone out of the sewer trap on a Saturday.

There's also a story about a runaway toilet in Chattanooga. Seems a plumber was carrying a toilet outside a home during an icy winter day in Chattanooga (I guess it rarely snows or hails in Tennessee in the winter). When the plumber put down the toilet on the sidewalk it started slipping down the roadway, since the home was on a hill. It gained speed and the plumber dashed after it, trying to catch it. (Bet he wishes he was a painter! Paint never runs away.) You'll have to pick up the publication and check out the ending.

There are many, many interesting stories and information to check out. Learn about lawn fertilizers and other chemicals endangering our waterways and, thus, our water's quality. There are cool diagrams about your septic system and pipe / sewer sytem. There's an informative story about mastering a bathroom remodeling project. There are reviews, tips on remodeling, home improvement, bathroom projects, redecorating, hiring a handyman, faucets, showers, drains — just about everything that relates to your home and the bathroom.

And, of course, the back is filled with needed coupons and other savings. Check it out this holiday when you take a break. I know most people eat and then sleep, but this month's magazine will keep you awake. If you're in a smaller market you may need to check it out online. If you're a company you may need to contact Company Connect. Happy Thanksgiving!

Until next time folks,

Conor Lee

Quote for November 21st, 1991

"Look at her - I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way - what bliss."

— Gomez Addams, brother of Fester, great grandson of Pegleg

Today’s my six-month wedding anniversary (no, the title of this post does NOT refer to my wife.) It’s hard to believe that half a year ago my wife and I were saying our vows in the Bloomington sunlight outside the Well House. Now I’m sitting in my drafty office, looking out into the cloudy, cold Indianapolis sky. How time flies (and weather changes.)

In the days leading up to our wedding (which was the best day of my life, and I’m not saying that just to kiss up to my wife), we had a long list of to-do’s (one of which was to say “I do”) that got shorter and shorter as the big day arrived. We got hitched without a hitch (besides the fact that I had food poisoning — not a hangover, I swear! — from a bad blue crab pizza the night before. Word to the wise: do NOT order seafood or anything exotic at your wedding rehearsal dinner!)

Anyways, I digress. My point of this is that we started with a simple engagement, then a to-do list that grew quite long and became shorter in the days leading up to the wedding. The list grew again in preparation for our honeymoon, but after that, we didn’t have much to worry about in terms of wedding to-do’s. We had to pick out photos for our wedding album and have my wife’s dress prepped for long-term storage, but that was about it.

It felt good to have accomplished everything on our wedding to-do list and put it in the recycling bin, at least until I remembered that we’d recently moved into our house, and there was a Hundred-headed To-Do Dragon (about the size of a piece of legal-rule paper) lurking around every corner. Dang!

In the six months we’ve been wed, my wife and I have improved a lot of things: our communication, trust, checking-account-sharing abilities. But we haven’t improved our home much. Sure, we’ve done some landscaping. But landscaping wasn’t even one of the To-Do Dragon’s heads (I know I’m stretching this dragon thing a bit, but bear with me!) I’ve yet to clean up our basement, completely sort our garage, fix the vents on our roof, install vents in our extremely hot-in-the-summertime garage, patch a hole in the wall next to our basement window, etc., etc., etc. I think you get the point.

Don’t get me wrong: we have done a lot to our house since we moved in over a year ago. But the things we’ve done weren’t necessarily our choice to do: the water main to our house burst, costing us a pretty penny. Our furnace decided to overheat and die on one of the coldest winter days of early February. And the 25-year-old outdoor all-weather carpet covering the basement floor and bathroom — ugh! — was just begging to be ripped out and thrown away.

After all the things we’ve done to improve our home — and all the things we’ve not done — I’ve learned two things. 1: Home improvement can be costly, both in money and time, and 2: no matter how long or short my list of to-do’s is, it will never disappear completely. (In the interest of full disclosure, my Grandpa told me that last part.)

So it’s good to know that no matter what happens, whether it’s a pipe bursting, a window leaking, or — God forbid — a wall crumbling, I can depend on contractors on Angie’s List to help me battle the Hundred-headed To-Do Dragon, one troublesome head at a time.

-Tristan Schmid
(PS... Begin shameless plug transmission... The second episode of List-en up!, the authorized Angie's List podcast, is out. It's about etiquette, and how people who hire others for services should be respectful to ensure good customer service... End shameless plug transmission...)

So we recently had a disaster of epic proportions in the Goode household: our dryer broke down. Now this may not seem like the end of the world, but it happened on a Sunday, not just any Sunday, but my laundry Sunday, leaving me with the decidedly disturbing prospect of an underwear free Monday. NOT acceptable.

Of course this wasn't quite as bad as the time our water softener decided to give up the ghost, rupture, and send its resin beads careening through our plumbing, leaving rust colored beads in our toilet, washer, dishwasher and fixtures. You haven't lived until you've seen resin balls streaming out of your faucet when you're trying to brush your teeth. That fiasco seemed to have domino effect, causing us to have to schedule a plumber, appliance repairman, and a water softener installation. On the upside, I got an RO filter out of the deal, and considering how picky I am about water, I think that this ordeal ended on a high note.

So, facing the prospect of heading off to the coin-op Laundromat (what a fun Sunday!), my dear husband decided to try his hand at dryer repair. Not a good idea. My sweetie is a very talented man, but an electrician he is not. I of course hovered over him like a mother hen, images of electrocuted husbands rerunning through my head. After listening to a bunch of cursing, and several trips to the hardware store to buy this or that part, I was finally able to convince him to leave this to the experts. I found an appliance repairman with emergency weekend availability on Angie's List. The details about the company I finally selected was able to answer most of my questions upfront (credit cards accepted, emergency availability, travel charges, etc.), and by reading through their reviews I could tell that this was the solution to our problem. They came out, got us up and running, and I was able to arrive at work Monday with a nice fresh pair of clean undies for my troubles.

-Beth Goode

Okay, the title is a bit misleading ... I promise I won't go on too long about my own troubles.

So, here's the deal: Due to a limited amount of funds, my fiance and I tend to do most of our repairs and projects ourselves. My fiance's father happens to be one of those guys that knows how to do everything. I mean EVERYTHING. It's been said that if the world comes to an end, he's the guy you'd want in your bomb shelter. Let's face it, he's a modern day MacGyver. While it's comforting to know that we'll never (knock on wood) need to hire an electrician, plumber or landscaper there are just some things I can't trust him with. It's not that he does shoddy work, it's just that I can't always appreciate the resourcefulness.

Our kitchen is in desperate need of some remodeling. And while I think it's just swell that my future father in-law can rig up an apartment heater in our garage using plywood and copper piping ... I don't really want my to leave the fate of my kitchen floor to innovation and quick wit. I decided (much to my fiance's chagrin) that we were going to hire a handyman. After the initial shock wore off, we began to compile a list of things that needed to be done and that we didn't want to "burden" the pops with. We started with the kitchen floor, cabinets and light fixtures and moved to other areas of the house.

We're also in dire need of getting our hardwood floors refinished, but I caught myself before putting that on the list. Should a handyman refinish your floors? Even if he can, should he? If he's so good at refinishing floors then why doesn't he specialize? I mean ... I want this done right. Especially if we're going to pay for it. Is that too much to ask? It seems that the prospect of having one person knock out my projects was a little unnerving. I then realized I may have a control problem, or maybe I'm a bit cheap. All I know is that I found myself calling a familiar number and saying, "Hey Dad, do you happen to have a drum sander?"

-Jackie Browning

One evening, earlier this week, I found myself home alone, as my wife was working a night shift. Normally, on a night like this, I would sit and play guitar for hours, read a book, or search for new real estate properties on the Internet. This night, however, would be different. For when I arrived home, I flipped on the TV to find "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" playing. I watched what remained of the movie, feeling a little warmer and fuzzier inside. Later that same evening, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" was on a different channel (the cartoon... not the Jim Carrey version.) I, of course, watched the entire movie. By the way, did you know that movie is only 30 minutes long? When I was younger, I swear it seemed like a huge two hour event. When the movie ended, I felt a little more in the holiday spirit than I had before. I longed for other Christmas movies from my childhood: A Charlie Brown Christmas, The Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, The Muppet Christmas Carol, Mickey's Christmas Carol, Jingle All the Way, the Home Alone movies, Frosty the Snowman, Ernest Saves Christmas, Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas. But alas, the holiday movies came to an end. I debated driving to the video store to rent a few of these movies. But then I realized... I'm 26. Maybe it's time to move past the point of wanting that warm, fuzzy, nostalgic feeling that is supposed to accompany the holiday season. Maybe it's just a little kid thing. Or so I thought. Later that night, my wife arrived home, singing "Silver Bells". She had been listening to Christmas music all day. So I say... bring on Christmas! Bring on Kwanzaa! Bring on Hanukkah! Bring on presents! Bring on Angie's List Holiday Gift Memberships! For those of you who don't know what the Holiday Gift Memberships are, let me explain. Every year, starting in November, Angie's List offers up discounted memberships for existing members to give away as gifts. The discounted price is $25.50 per year. This is a great way to give a gift that keeps on giving the whole year round. If you're already a member, just log in at www.angieslist.com to view additional details. And until next time, try not to act like such a... what was Lucy always calling Charlie Brown?...oh that's right!

A blockhead!

 

- Brandon Smith