The Fixer Upper House and Garden

Let Their Be Light

There is nothing wrong with a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. The light is adequate and the affect is timely, given the state of our nation's economy. But the bare bulb gets tiresome, which is why I purchased light fixtures recently: three exterior sconces and two kitchen pendants. I still have a half-dozen fixtures to go, but this was a good start.

As you might expect if you've ever read this blog before, I shopped around a lot. And I have a suggestion for anyone looking for a niche in the retail industry: open up a mid-price lighting store. Most of what's available at the big-box stores looks, costs and IS horrendously cheap, while the

Lazy Ladies

When the girls were little I used to feel like I was choking in these last supposedly lazy days of summer. Now that they are older and require less "physical" maintenance, I am loving (almost) every moment out of our time together...especially now that M is home from camp! With no garden to care for and barely any grass to mow, we have lots of time to play. Here's what my gang was doing this evening while I was making dinner (and blogging): 

This is what they were watching. Some day we'll get a 42-inch TV for the built-in cabinet.

Milo was so excited when we picked M up after 4 weeks of camp

Fish Gone Fishin'

I didn't think I had the capacity to care for another living thing when my youngest daughter brought home an aging betta fish last year. I was managing three kids, two dogs, one husband, freelance-work and the renovation of our house. Plus, we already had a betta fish, "Rainy," who ate so slowly we had to feed him one morsel at a time.

So I was peeved when our neighbor outgrew her fish phase and gave "Bob" to my second-grader: Like I needed another dependent! Now instead of taking one minute to feed the fish every day, feeding time would take me two minutes! Cleaning time would take me four! Unlike Rainy, who is as elegant as a red silk scarf, Bob was very ugly. His blue scales were covered with grey speckles and his mouth turned up like a catfish. The only thing I did like about Bob, at first, was that he was so old I figured he'd die real soon.

That was a year ago, and Bob turned out to be a very easy charge. He swam eagerly whenever anyone looked into his bowl. He ate quickly and with greed. He bumped against the glass to fight with Rainy in the next bowl over. And he didn't seem bothered when, one day a month ago, he no longer had a tail.

We were not sure how he lost his tail; was it a disease? Was it age-related? Did the tail get caught on a rock when I was cleaning the bowl? However it happened, being tail-less didn't slow Bob down at first. He swam wobbly, and maybe he was less eager to butt up against the glass, but he still came to the surface when one of us was standing by his bowl, and he still ate his nuggets before they started sinking.

Dog Days of Summer

Is there anything happier than a Lab in water? I took our Labrador retriever for a walk this morning. I wasn't intending to take her for a swim, but when we passed the access road to the beach, she kept looking back at me and nodding her head toward the lake. I swear, she was smiling! It's very hard to resist a smiling dog, especially one that is so loyal and who gives such pleasure.

 

Good Morning, Sunshine

Despite early wisps of clouds, my town was treated to a spectacular sunrise on Thursday morning. Here's a view from the beach near my home, at 5:50 a.m.

Stuff

Getting Rid Of Stuff has been a major theme for me these past two years. After a lifetime of being an accumulator, I now love throwing things away. Today I threw away a scratched Teflon skillet, thus liberating the pots-and-pans drawer (as well as my family ) from a potentially poisonous cooking utensil. I also gave away our cream-colored dining room rug, which I once loved but whose color I always regretted, especially after Milo used it as a poop mat when we were on vacation recently. I gave the rug to a man who came to haul away the bricks from the front yard. I gave it to him on one condition: That he must absolutely clean the rug before presenting it to his wife. I'll never know if he does this, but I tried.

Here's another thing I gave away today: a ton of bricks and bluestone shards. Well maybe not a ton. I'm not good at judging things like tons. It seemed like a ton to me. But the thing that really puts today on the anti-clutter radar is that at long last, I got rid of the ugly evergreens out front. Except for a few gnarly juniper stumps, the front yard is as naked as new construction. 

Ahhhhh.......

For a progression of photos of the front of my house, click below

Man Working

Death To The Evergreens! Armed with a Sawzall, Husband decimated the ugly shrubs  that have been pricking passersby for some 40 years. We're waiting till September to do any serious planting, but it will be nice to be rid of these bushes.

Knock, Knock

When we moved into The Fixer Upper House a year and a half ago, I got a note that went something like this: "Until you get a proper mailbox, the United States Postal Service will no longer deliver mail to this address."

This unwelcome letter made me gloomy, because I had to pick up our mail at the post office until I replaced the 2-inch mail slot next to the front door with a mail box big enough to handle today's volume of junk mail. I knew it would take months...and months to find a mailbox that met my standards. 

I had a vague idea about those standards: circa 1920s, wall-mount, brass with a brownish patina to go with the front door's 100-year-old lock and handle. And I knew I

didn't want art deco or arts & craft. Foreshadowing the level of effort I would put into finding other house fixtures, I searched ebay and craigslist; googled "mailboxes circa 1920;" looked through dozens of catalogs and magazines; and shopped malls, home-design stores, antique stores and flea markets. But I couldn't find the mailbox of my dreams.

Fortunately, about a year ago I got on good terms with Glen, my mail carrier. I think he felt sorry for me because the

Men Working II

It was one of those days you want to bottle and sell: 80, sunny, breezy enough that the bugs don't get you. At the beach, the sand was warm and the lake was wavy. The kids swam and the dog frolicked. And at home, the Italians were able to just about finish the stoop, despite a brief storm this morning. I'm going to miss those guys! Here's a pic:.

Men At Work!

I have no idea how I survived the mayhem of the past year, when we ripped the back off our house, gutted the interior and began the laborious job of putting it back together. Never a quiet moment; never an empty in-box on the cell phone; never a to-do list with fewer than 20 things on it. I actually loved  the process but when the bulk of it was over and we moved back into the house....I wanted it to be over. As in complete. Finished. See ya later! The End.

This week has been like old times, with a parade of dented vans and pick-up trucks lining the street in front of my house. We returned from the north woods on Saturday with tan children, nervous dogs and four duffle bags filled with dirty laundry. When C and M brought

the bags downstairs to get the laundry going, their bare feet sloshed and sunk into the play-room carpeting: a crack in the air conditioner unit caused a leak that saturated the w-to-w carpet.

The brand-new w-to-w carpet.

So Disaster Relief Services arrived on Sunday with massive fans and dehumidifiers. Along with GC and HVAC guy, they've been in and out all week seeing to things. Meanwhile, the Italian stoneworkers are back working on the front steps, which also required the services of two carpenters. And I'm bidding out the landscaping and fretting over what to plant on the side of the house in order to screen the direct view we have into our next-door neighbor's kitchen. Ah, seems like old times.