I created a gallery of the goings-on. Here are some of the dramatic before-and-after shots.

The living and dining room had ill-fitted carpet and dark wood-paneled walls.

Painted walls and laminate floors open up this space.

The kitchen before renovation was cluttered and the cabinets were decades old.

The new kitchen has new cabinets against the back wall and a more spacious feel. The blue walls add a cozy touch.

For more photos of the dramatic changes, see my flickr gallery.

Historical Record (Ignore the coffee stain on it.)

We think this would be a fun idea, but I’m now wondering if naming it after the first guy who lived there really makes any sense. How do houses get their names? Or maybe we could make it the John and Sarah Wood house? I guess we’d have to find out if these people were worthy of having a house named after them.

I suppose we can call it anything we want, since we own it.

I haven’t been in a plane in quite some time (can’t remember the last time), and so I have that anxiety that comes when air travel is not a habit. I am trying not to pack too much. For a few hours yesterday, I resigned myself to the fact that I couldn’t bring my camera. But, I decided to fuck it and bring it, because I really feel lost without it.

I just finished a book by John Robison, which was actually a gift I had given to Matthew for Christmas. I borrowed it from him after he quickly finished it post-Christmas. John Robison is the brother of Augusten Burroughs and lives in Amherst. He grew up in Shutesbury, just around the corner from where I work right now. The book is his first and it is about his life with Asperger’s. It’s a quick and engaging read; I highly recommend it. If you do get it, consider the hardcover edition. The paperback edition that I purchased removed expletives so that younger people could read it and learn about Asperger’s, or just growing up different (and all the bullying that comes with it).

Now I am between books and don’t know which one to start. I’m thinking that I’d like to switch to fiction, so I am considering Andre Dubus III’s latest The Garden of Last Days, which I received as a gift. I also received two nonfiction books that are en vogue right now–Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food. I heard about them at JBo’s tea party in December and put them on my Amazon list.

I also got Obama’s The Audacity of Hope, but I have already decided against reading it next. Something about reading Obama while in Chicago seems awfully cheesy.

I think I’ve settled on Ande Dubus III. I don’t know anything about the book. A perfect escape.

I won’t have any computer access for a few days as far as I know. Back on Friday night.

On Monday it was about 60 degrees in the shade. I scraped and painted the floor of our front porch. Our doorway is on the right (the one with the cute home plate mat — which was an engagement gift from Jennifer Myszkowski. We also got a cute new floor mat for our wedding from Alyson and Bill. It has monkeys on it. We are saving that one for when this one wears out. But, enough about the doormats). One of our tenants gave me the news that it was going to rain that night, so I only got to put one coat of paint on the floor. When the weather gets warmer again, we plan to do more painting on the porch.

On Wednesday night, we went to the Rag Shag Parade in Easthampton. I had never heard of such an event,  but it’s basically a chance for kids and parents to walk down the streets of the city, while the police direct traffic away from downtown. The kids are dressed up in their Halloween costumes and there are essentially no spectators, just parade participants. We did not follow the entire parade through town, but Matt tells me they head for some location where they are given free candy. Matt grew up in Easthampton and did this as a kid.

During the day on Wednesday, I spent some time at the Holyoke Mall. What is a week off without at least one pilgrimmage to the Holyoke Mall? I bought a few tops in anticipation of the new job, had my eyes checked at the optometrist and treated myself to a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle. I finished it Saturday afternoon. Isn’t it pretty?

Jigsaw puzzles are a fruitless activity, which can be a good and a bad thing. On the one hand it’s very zen to focus on something with absolutely no reward except the act itself. On the other hand, it took hours away from my life.

Despite my reputation as a highly organized person, I will often wait to do things until the last minute. One of those things was purchasing a pumpkin for Friday night’s 2nd annual Halloween pumpkin carving extravaganza. As the week progressed I casually noticed that there were fewer and fewer pumpkins available at the Stop and Shop. On Thursday, I drove around Chicopee listening to Winterpills and trying to find a damn pumpkin.

It wasn’t until Friday afternoon when I finally tore myself away from the jigsaw puzzle and drove to Atkins Farms in Amherst. Atkins was out of big pumpkins, but I ended up picking up the last pumpkin at a roadside farmstand in Granby. The guy sold it to me for four bucks. On my way back I shot some photos of the Holyoke Dam area. This shot is of the South Hadley side.

And here is the carved pumpkin, which we ended up naming Barack O’Lantern, because that’s what you do when you are hanging out with a bunch of commies.

I did a lot more activities, including Endless Shrimp on Tuesday night, but I’d rather not talk about that. Our close friend Amy was also in town for the weekend and so we spent some time with her. And just this morning I met up with a few Twitter friends at a Starbucks in Connecticut.

Anyway, more blogging will happen from here on out. It feels like the seal has been broken.

Yes, I’m leaving my current job as of this Friday and it’s with a very heavy heart. I’m moving onto a publishing job, also in the valley. I’m not moving or anything.

I enoyed the decor, from the shiny, dark hardwood floors to the brightly painted green walls. Floors not pictured.

They also use art created by local kids. This canvas is from the Dunbar Community Center. Very charming.

Photographic evidence that this place is indeed called Dillweedz.

Here is, in his words, what happened.

My name is Anthony Jones. I am a 29 year-old college educated, professional African-American male who resides in Northampton, MA. I am writing to discuss a complaint against a public establishment in Holyoke named The Clover, as well as against the Holyoke Police Department.

Recently, my partner and I were out for the evening when we decided to go to The Clover Pub in Holyoke for a couple drinks. As we thought this establishment to be friendly enough (as it is in gay marriage friendly Massachusetts), my partner and I kissed one another on the lips. We were told that this behavior was “unacceptable” in this bar. We were told to stop. As I believe I have the right to kiss anyone I want, I asked why we were being asked to stop kissing. We were told that this bar was not “that kind of place.” I explained that what we were doing was not inappropriate. My partner and I were asked to leave. I said I would not leave the bar because I kissed my boyfriend and because we did nothing wrong.

We were again told to leave and told that if we refused to leave, the cops would be called. Because I felt and still feel that my partner and I were being asked to leave because of our sexual orientation, I again stated that we would not leave because we had a right to be in this public establishment and that we were not violating any laws.

Within a few minutes, five police officers showed up to the bar and asked my partner and me to step outside. As we were dumbfounded, my partner was trying to explain to the officers that we were not doing anything wrong. We did nothing to warrant the reaction we received. The cops refused to listen to either of us who were trying to explain our side of whatever story had been told. They (the cops) became more forceful in an effort to get my partner and me out of the bar. Once we were outside, I again tried to reinforce what I had been saying all along – that this was happening to us because of our sexual orientation. The police report clearly states that I kept saying that we were being treated unjustly because we were gay.

Later, we discovered the bar tender and owner informed the cops that we were engaged in “lewd” behavior. The police report states that it was reported that we were lifting up one another’s shirts and sucking one another’s nipples. This is completely untrue. Obviously, this was an excuse made up by the owner and bartender to cover their butts because they knew we had done nothing out of the “ordinary.”

In the meantime, the cops tried to insist we settle down or that they would place us in protective custody. Again, because we felt as if this was completely unfair and inappropriate, I said being taken to jail was an even bigger insult than being thrown out of the bar. Since the cops thought I was unwilling to cooperate, they used pepper spray directly in my eyes. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. While one police report says that after the pepper spray was sprayed I calmed down, another states I calmed after a little more resistance. Personally, I don’t know anyone who can not feel violated when he or she has been pepper sprayed for no reason at all.

As I was unaware of what was happening with my partner, I know I was handcuffed in the most forceful of ways. Even today, almost a month after the incident, I still have visible bruises from this incident. I was then placed in a patrol car and taken to the Holyoke Police Department where things got increasingly worse.

Although the police report states I was allowed to wash my face a couple times, this is untrue. It felt like an eternity before I was able to open my eyes without pain.

The details of the rest of this evening are painful to remember. I have never in my life been made to feel like less than a human being by anyone. I was informed that my partner was also in protective custody because he refused to leave me. I was so thankful to know I wasn’t alone.

I was placed in a cell and told to calm down. I was told to calm down because I was extremely angry, hurt, and confused about how this evening transpired into the nightmare it had become. Of course, I was very vocal about how unfair this was and how it shouldn’t be happening. After a brief while, I was taken out of the cell and escorted to be officially “booked.” I was asked for my address and social security number (which I asked why it was needed and I was told if I didn’t give it to them I wouldn’t be allowed out). I conceded.

After this process, they had me sign a piece of paper although it was unclear what I was signing. I do remember, however, being told that I was being charged with resisting arrest and disorderly conduct. I asked if I could make a phone call. I was escorted to the phone, but because I rely on my cell phone, which had been taken with all my other possessions, I didn’t know a number to call to reach a friend. I demanded an attorney. I was told that I didn’t need an attorney because they were not questioning me about anything. Again, I asked for an attorney. They told me to make my phone call to call whomever I wanted. Since I was unsure of who to call, my privilege to make a phone call was taken away from me. I was again made angry at the fact that my rights were being violated, in my opinion. As I tried to reach for the phone, three offices bombarded me, threw me on the ground, and cuffed me again, this time even tighter than before. The force of these three men was so intense it caused me to fall to the ground face first where I chipped my front tooth.

I was taken back to my cell (shirtless, which I later found out was because of a suicide watch or something ridiculous). I yelled to my partner in another cell and we comforted one another with words until an officer approached my partner and told him (which I found out the next morning) that if he didn’t stop speaking to me, he would be kept in jail for an additional eight hours.

I was made to sleep without a blanket on the cold cement block they use as a bed. My partner was given a blanket. Not only was my partner given a blanket, however. He was also given permission to make a phone call, was not charged with anything formally as I was, and will not have a record of this as an arrest. Obviously, this does not sit well with me as we were both violated, but my “discipline” was handled in much more of a severe way than his. I understand that my partner is older than me and white, which causes me to wonder why such harshness was placed upon me and not both of us? My partner was released at 8 in the morning and was allowed to bail me out with a $40 price tag. We’re still dealing…

I think it’s important to note that neither my partner nor I were looking for trouble. A number of versions of this story will be told that don’t match the truth. Yes, we were having a great night of fun. Yes, we are gay. Yes, I am dating an older white man. Yes, I now realize that the place I was in might not be receptive to our lifestyle. No, I didn’t think this happened in Massachusetts where gay marriage is legal. It shouldn’t happen anywhere.

I am appalled at the way my partner and I were treated at the bar and by the police. No matter what side of the story they tell, I want someone to answer these questions:

1. Was it right for me to be pepper sprayed?
2. Should my partner and I have been asked to leave the bar?
3. Is it wrong to be gay?
4. Do black Americans deserve to be treated differently than whites displaying the same behavior?
5. Should my tooth have been chipped?
6. Why do I have to go to court in October to clear my name when I have done nothing wrong?
7. Is anyone as angry as me?
8. Who wants to help me fight?

I need the best defense I can get to help me with this. I want people to be aware of how things are still happening in this day and age. Please help me bring this message of injustice, police intimidation, and outright prejudiced to an end. We must do better!
Regards,

Anthony Jones
ynotjones@gmail.com

More photos from the Big E here!