a day in the life

Ana is a very resourceful girl. She loves to bake, and with a non-functioning oven in the un-remodeled kitchen, her groove has been majorly disturbed.

So, what's a girl to do? Simple: make no-bakes. Double-batch. Mmmm.

This pic has nothing to do with today's triumph in the kitchen, except she is likely washing down a few cookies with a cool drink after snacking on the porch. I know how she works.

I got the hankering to go grocery shopping last night. Strange, but I went with my gut. All went very well; I came home with a bountiful trunk o' edible junk around 10:30 pm. Then, I remembered THE WALKWAY.

Presently, the only way to get groceries (or what-have-you) into the house is to either climb the front porch stairs or traverse the sloping gravel-and-cement walk from the driveway.
Since a roost of bats hunkers in the broken ceiling of the front porch (death to bats), I chose the sloping and dimly-lit walk.

This morning, I decided to rid this pathway of its weeds and overgrown no-name perennials in order to actually SEE it in dim light.

No groceries were harmed in the traveling of this path in the dark, but I almost walked into a small tree with a jug of orange juice.

I could not resist throwing my kayak into the river before the sun went down. On one side, the long shadows submerge the grassy bank. On the other side, wedges of sunlight make everything shine like emeralds.

Monet would pull up his easel to a sight like this one. And since I never made it to the Metropolitan Museum last month, I'll have to find some living art to sate my culture taste-buds.

more pics for the curious

There are other things going on here besides the Big Move. Just outside my window, large machines are making large noises. Here, new telephone poles are being erected. The new lines will be raised 8-12 feet, bringing scores of ugly black wires above the sight-line from our bedroom window.

Thank you, worker-men. Every morning when I rise and cast my gaze upon the unobstructed view of the Grasse River, I will be grateful for your hard work. I shall bring you cookies, warm from the oven. That is, when I HAVE an oven.

I am not complaining.

The bridge is now closed to pedestrian traffic. (Last May, it was abruptly and unceremoniously closed to vehicular traffic.) There is a shuttle service that runs from the village square to the park on the other side of the bridge. As for me, I plan to use my kayak if I need to visit the park.
-but you already knew that.

The men have already dammed one-half of the other side of the river and have created a gravel drive that leads into the empty riverbank for their heavy equipment. When the other side of the bridge is finished, they will do the same on our side.

I like to take breaks from unpacking and see their progress.

All day long, men in construction gear can be seen doing their thing. It is very satisfactory to know that even when I have my feet up drinking coffee, someone is getting something done around here.


How did THAT get in here? I am not sure, but it makes me want to order out.

For those who are concerned that Hubby is working too hard, allow me to calm your fears. He came out onto the water the other evening where we sat side by side, bobbing on the rippling river and soaking in the peace of the sky, the churning of the falls, and the dipping of sparrows over our heads. When we turned around to head back, I caught him quietly observing our new home.

I liked this moment.

I also liked THIS moment. #1 Son looks dead, but he is merely posing for dramatic effect. Friend #7 said, "Don't take my picture!", but when do I ever listen to her?

Please notice the new rug, which was purchased online after Christmas. I unrolled it for the very first time the day we moved---and it stunned us all with its perfection. 100% wool, a perfect match, lovely style, and 75% off. What's not to love?

I ask you.

Moving Week

I present to you some scenes from last week, hereby dubbed "Moving Week".

Oh, and also dubbed "Painting Week". Here you see the muted gold in the front room and that elusive gray/green/blue something-or-other hue in the dining room/sitting room.

We call it a sitting room because of all the choices available upon which to sit.

I like it ever so much with sparse furnishings. I wish we could live forever like this. Less to clean.

My favorite piece of furniture, the Tibetan Armoire, finds a new home. It took us a long time to train Friend #37 to say "Tibetan Armoire." But he has it in his repertoire now. I can hear him all the way from China, intoning "Ti-be-tan Ar-mwahhhhr" in his droll manner.

This little corner is where you can send me when I'm bad. I won't mind it a bit.

I like the leather couch cushions piled on top of our antique couch. It's a new way of doing things.

The neighborhood girls set up the poster bed for us. I waited a long time to have my bed back, Our last bedroom wouldn't accommodate it.

This scenario was viewed from the front porch. How will they get that table over that stone wall?

Like this, silly. Alley-oop.




We gathered at this very same table to give thanks later that day, and then we shared a meal and rested our tired backs.

Already, it feels like Home.

spit-shine

The stone house was built into the side of a sloping bank, which makes the first floor smaller than one might imagine. It is the perfect size for an "in-law" apartment, though! It has one bedroom, a bright living room, an eat-in kitchen and a generous bathroom. The large deep-set windows look out over the yard and Grasse River. There is also an interior stairway with access to the fine gourmet cooking upstairs -which was a selling point.

My dear mom-in-law (affectionately called "Mumsie" by yours truly) will be moving into her new digs over the weekend. The previous tenant vacated this past Monday, and with his departure came a flurry of activity.

Hubby installed new baseboard for the hot water heat. We scrubbed and painted all walls. We shampooed the carpet. The kitchen cupboards are getting a face-lift, too.

I think it is looking spiffy. The main color (living room/kitchen) is a soft, soft green that makes the space light and inviting. It has been a continual source of amusement to me that it is called "Hee-Haw". Whatever.

We are looking forward to having Grandma Jean living close by again. She is excited about being able to walk to church . It should take her about fifteen minutes, with the short cut through the back green of the golf course!



Just up the stairs, I am testing paint colors in the sitting room/dining room. In some light, this is definitely blue. Then again, shifting to the other side of the room, it looks green. In the evening, it looks gray. I might keep it; I might not. The jury's still out.

Stop by and give your opinion. If you stay long enough, we will thrust a paint brush into your hand.

floors and views

I love this angle of the old stone home. From here, you can see the cedar-shake addition which comprises the present kitchen (multi-paned windows) and the family room (door entry). One can also see the gigantic, nonsensical fireplace and chimney that will eventually be removed from the premises.


The town dock/boat launch is across the street. This is the view from there.
...and this is the view from the front porch. Is it any wonder my family is concerned that I will never actually unpack and set up housekeeping?

The lure of the water is strong, I tell you.

That being very true, I assure you I have only been out with my kayak twice this season.


I have substituted smooth, broad strokes of the paddle for smooth, broad, polyurethane-laden strokes with a lamb's wool mop.

Don't feel sorry for me. All kinds of exercise are good for the soul.

I can also take up indoor skating now that our floors are so luxuriously smooth and shining. Come on over and give it whirl before the furniture gets in the way.

sanding, washing, and re-finishing

First, the wood floors were sanded with a rented power-sander. Hubby did the honors.

Upstairs, the three bedrooms have narrow-board oak on the floor and they are very lovely, even though most likely installed in 1959. (At the top of the stairs, there is a 2x3 foot square of the original 1843 flooring. It is very wide, very scuffed, and very painted. It hints of what lurks under the oak flooring and speaks of "too much work to be worth it" to me.)

Downstairs, we have a wider board in the double living rooms/dining room. It has a red tint and beveled edges; quite unique. We are not sure of the type of wood. It is the original flooring and I love it.

After sanding, we let the dust settle for a few days. I armed myself with a giant shop-vac and tackled the next step of the job on Monday. All the floors were meticulously vacuumed and then wiped clean. Twice. Additionally, #1 Daughter helped me wash walls, trim, and baseboard just to eliminate our enemy, dust.

On Tuesday, I prepped for the poly by wiping down the floors once again. Then, with a long wooden pole with a pad of lamb's wool attached to the end, I dipped my "mop" into a paint tray full of oil-based satin finish poly, and started long, easy strokes, going with the grain.

The sunlight streaming through the windows, the warm yellow-red glow of the bare wood, the roar of the waterfalls, and the soft dull swish of the wool on the wood were my companions all afternoon. It was all very lovely until the headache hit.

Today, I did the same task all over again. This time, the prep was a pass with a dry-wall sander over ALL the floors followed by a wipe with a damp cloth. (Much rinsing and re-filling the bucket with fresh, clean water was called for. )The last pass with the poly-filled "magic wand" was administered by Hubby, as the fume-headache returned before the job was complete.

I strolled down the road to clear my head from the fumes. After a fantastic and restorative bowl of bean soup at 1942, I returned to find Hubby stretched out on the front porch, also looking for respite from the noxious polyurethane fumes.

As a reward for this effort, we have beautiful glowing floors throughout the house!

one month

If one is too busy to write, then one is too busy. So very true.

We are moving into the stone house in one month, and the swirl of events around us has made it hard to sit still even for a minute.

Ana and I spent the afternoon at the properties yesterday; I was painting bedrooms at the stone house, she was raking glass and debris from the yard at the apartments up the road. She also came over and began removing paint drippings from floors (left from the previous tenants!). The plan is to at least have the bedrooms ready for our move by June 8th.

As for the main floor of the stone house, Bill has ripped apart the dividing wall between the two main rooms (dining room/living room) in order to see if we could install pocket doors. Nope. Too many wires/pipes hidden in the wall. At least now we know!

We have decided the enlarge the opening between the two rooms, though. That way, a piano recital, Christmas Party, or any other large gathering could be more integrated.

After the floors are sanded and refinished on the main floor, I can then paint. Hopefully this will happen before our move!

The supervisor of the bridge stopped by the properties to meet Bill yesterday. He is eager to rent apartments for the workers and Bill was eager to show him the possibilities. The apartments need to be ready by June 1st. This is one of those good news/bad news deals, as the push to ready the unfinished apartments seriously cuts into our moving preparations! But this is a huge blessing, as it will insure monthly income until November AND after then, finished apartments that are rental-ready.

There is only 24 hours to each day, so please pray for us (and especially my husband!) as we push ahead. Today is his birthday, so if you see the "Mayor of Madrid" around town, wish him a happy one!