. . . . and greener still!

It's beginning to look almost like a lawn.

eeeeek!!!

[that means "lawn mower". . . . better get some alternative lawn plants started, pronto.]

going green

If you look closely, you'll see the beginnings of a greening of the newly seeded and strawed front yard.

Very exciting!

I understand it's positively lush now, but I haven't seen it in a few days. I'm still trying to recuperate from more kitchen re-do's, plumbing mishaps ["No, there will be no plumber's advertisements on my drains!"], wrangles over towel racks ["What do you mean you just went ahead and ordered something?"], electrician pricing that supposedly forgot to include the light fixture itself, and cobbles put in [in concrete, no less] in complete disregard to pattern. . . .

But the library shelving is supposedly complete - and very cool - and appliances are expected, and the floor is mostly finished and carpeting shortly to be installed, so things are moving along.

And the grass is growing.

simple stuff

“Things should be made as simple as possible, but not any simpler.”

Albert Einstein
***************

still to come, a picture of a violation of this rule, involving cobbles
and pattern. . . . [or, shall I say, the lack of proper pattern?]

observations

“You can observe a lot by watching.”

Yogi Berra

Quotation courtesy of Gretchen Rubin over at the happiness project. Another lawyer-always-wanted-to-be-a-writer. Harvard, though, instead of Fordham.

meanwhile, outside. . . .

help has arrived for the garden.Steve takes a break, breaking up the hardpack for a bit of a holding garden for all the herbs that will be making the move with us.
Here it is after two days' work, me digging stuff up; him transporting and planting!

There's lots more to go, but we had to wait until we thought the little guys would be pretty safe from the depredations of the earth-movers, shakers, pavers, gravellers and over-seeders.

I think that time has come. Now all I have to worry about is getting water out to them. Oh, and to decide whether to take our hostas into harm's way - where they face decimation by deer - or leave them here, where they've limped along for the 3 years we've rented.

Possible - but not certain - death by deer? or continued decline in darkness and drought?

Not exactly a moral dilemma, I guess. I'll see how hard they are to dig up and if they resist, I'll leave 'em behind.

not gonna happen

It's hard to put my finger on just what it was that caused everything else to sort of slow-down snowball, but after a sleepless night one night recently, we decided that a move-in this Friday was simply not gonna happen.

We postponed the movers.

We postponed the newly-cleaned carpet re-delivery.

We postponed phone/internet hook-up and "direct TV" (which didn't get the message and showed up, only to tell us that there are too many trees at the greenwood, and we won't be able to get "direct TV". So. No TV? Or a satellite dish atop the tower, perhaps. . . . [KIDDING!])

Meanwhile. . . . detail disasters continue.

Using the 'eyeball-it-once, cut, then-measure-many-times-and-fix-it-with-caulk' method, the countertop guys managed to cut the wrong inch off the biggest piece of countertop. They are replacing it.

That has held up the plumber, who also didn't realize he was in charge of supplying the sinks and a different toilet to his usual selection. We objected to paying him more than retail for those sinks and toilets, so purchased them elsewhere.


Which toilet would you pick - this one?






Or this one?




[Right. Just what I thought. sigh. Who cares?!]

Anyway, ditto the carpeting: price-wise, that is. The very nice carpet store just down the street apparently did not get the same memo about "incredibly increased prices all around" that the builder's carpet guy in the depressed looking back-lot warehouse was telling us all about. . . .

Then there's the towel racks. . . . but maybe we won't talk about the towel racks.

Steve tile-guy works in fits and starts, trying to put tile underneath whatever is slated to go in next. He's been allowed to grout the bathrooms (primarily because the plumber wanted to put those ugly toilets in) but now it's done and he can try and get the slate in under the kitchen island and maybe finish that off, and get the rest of the missing bits done, cleaned, sealed and grouted.

The electricians are hanging fixtures and discovering missing switches, which will necessitate wall patching later. (Although it appears that it is the security guy who was responsible for the eight [or was it ten? It was a LOT of] little cut-outs in the kitchen wall.)

The painters were here and stained probably 75% of the cedar trim - I can't figure out why they left what they left unpainted. It probably started raining or something.

Turns out the garage and studio doors were never ordered. . . . Add several weeks.

The wing walls are done but - with grade - are eight inches low.

I hear that my front garden was scraped down (to remove all the construction, brick, concrete and stucco debris) and backfilled with good top soil! Woo hoo!

There are piles of gravel to be spread on the driveway and courtyard.

It's coming together, but a move-in before the end of this month? Not gonna happen.

big slug and little-known facts

I suspected that these silvery, shimmery pathways on the screen were left by a snail. I've seen them before, you see.Ah ha! There he is! But this is a slug - I think - rather than a snail, although the faces look alike. No snail house atop his back, though. Dead give away.That is one big slug! Here's some context - see him checking out my glasses.
The "little-known fact"? When I was a little girl in Germany, I would take snails to school with me in my pockets. At recess, I would let them crawl on my palm. On my way home, I'd put them back on the wooden fence I'd taken them from.

This trip down memory lane brought to you in the spirit of not lingering over potential disasters brewing in the kitchen, where the granite people appear to have royally bungled the fabrication and installation of the otherwise beautiful soapstone I finally settled on. I am awaiting their next proposal for resolving the problem.

Pictures undoubtedly to come. . . .

hitherings and ditherings

Now is the winter of our disconcert. . . . and all that (to further bowdlerize poor Willie Shakespeare) when we second-guess all the choices that have been made so laboriously [and blindly] over the past few months. For a week or so, everything that was going into the house just sang as it came together. The wood; the stone; the stucco; the fireplaces and herringbone and more wood of the windows and the apses on the outside and the green woods glowing beneath.

The first hint of a sour note was in the matter of the colour of the cedar trim. A dark ebony is what was chosen - after repeatedly admiring it on our last trip to Eire - but now I worry it might be too stark. I've grown accustomed to the softness of the rich wood. Repeating to myself that that colour will not stay (but will weather to a silver) has not helped, especially since it continues to show that colour on the front of the house, punctuated rather vividly by the bits that were ebonized before the painters inexplicably stopped some weeks ago.

The wide-plank wood floor looks great, but - again - what colour? Back to the swatch board for me, and another couple of little sample cans to purchase and stroke onto waste wood. . . .In the bath, what is called travertine looks an awful lot like Carerra marble, and has a whole lot more gray in it than expected. In addition, the brushed finish (the bigger Luther gets, the harder slick surfaces are for him to get a grip on!) is considerably slicker than the sample board led me to believe. . . . I'm not sure I like it, much as it pains me to admit.I do like the shower tile pattern, though, I must say. Thank you - yes - my design. Wait'll you see it when it's done! Unless it - too - gets derailed, somehow, and (crap!) maybe it's going to be too busy? sigh. . . . Well, that's Chris with the question mark on his back, putting it in. Take a deep breath, queenie. It's gonna be ok. Moving on, the slate I've been so delighted with for the "dog bath" I now worry is too dark. Yes, "dog bath" is what the guest bath has taken to being called, as that's where the walk-in shower for wet and muddy doggie purposes has been placed. I wanted it to be rustic, but now it's feeling a bit too cave-like. . . . Surely a bit of light in there will help - oh! - but I don't want to second-guess the light fixtures just now! That will bring up questions of towel bars, faucets, and finishes, and you don't want me to go there. Trust me on that.

Anyway - here's the mosaic slate that will go on the shower floor, up against the big slate, which will also go on the walls. . . . The dark cut-out bit there on the top right is the entrance to the 'shower cave'. sigh.
You know what? I think it might be time for a 'big picture' here. (ah. you can see the natural wood trim - and the bits on the far right that have been stained the ebony. It reminds me of the time I decided to cut my hair, and the hairdresser took a phone call after having cut just one side. I sat in misery and regret. . . . Note to contractors and designers: "Do not do this to your clients." It's too hard on them.)
You know? This also reminds me of the story in the Old Testament, where Nehemiah is overseeing the re-building of the walls around Jerusalem. At one point, they just kind of got overwhelmed with all the junk and the 'rubble' all around them. I think it's time to take my eyes off the rubble and refocus on the big picture, even as I keep my head down and keep working.

Minus eleven, and counting 'til moving day.

Today? The kitchen counter goes in. Yes, I'm apprehensive. This creative visualizing stuff is nerve-racking. It's never quite what you imagined.

Countdown - minus 12

Counting today, we're scheduled to move in twelve days. Can you believe it?

No. Me neither.

No plumbing fixtures or appliances; lighting fixtures are on-site, but not installed; no mention of carpeting; a lot of bookshelves to be built, stained and sealed; another coat of paint; no electric switches or switchplates; ditto plugs; dining room floor to go in and then both wooden floors to be stained, sealed, and tung oiled (several times); bathroom tile work needs to be finished (although Steve-tileman worked all weekend and was making a good dent in the master bath); slate tile to be finished; all to be grouted. . . .

And then there's all the outside work still to be done: wing walls, final grade, cut driveway, spread and roll rough gravel in prep for the pea gravel; trim stain; window and door tune-ups and touch-ups; downspouts; garage doors; debris clear-out & seed/straw; install slate on steps; do something about the concrete floors in the garage and studio (they're polka-dotted with stucco blobs).

Add to this, the fact that many of these jobs are mutually exclusive to doing the others. You can't be sawing and building library shelves while you're trying to stain and seal the floors. Neither can appliances come in when you're working on floors. . . . Painting precludes wiring work; grading complicates delivery of appliances and fixtures. . . .

So what does Tom-builder do? He went on vacation last week. Then his foreman had surgery towards the end of the week (he assures me it was minor and that he's all better now . . . and I am glad he's ok).

I think I'll go on vacation this week.

Well. Maybe not. I have too many plants to dig up and get moved. The good thing? It's slated to be under 80 today. Woo hoo!

in other news: critter updates

Luther and Diana have been seen to be reclined in the same room, and have even dined together - each off his or her own plate - without major histrionics.

Of course, histrionics usually ensue. . . . eventually.

Diana's language is atrocious - such name-calling! - and Luther is unable to resist the bait. It's usually just a matter of time before they go at it again. And then it's just a matter of time before I go off and silence them with my own screech, commanding "SILENCE!!!

The neighbors must think I'm a lunatic.

Obedience school starts tomorrow. Thank God.

my bad

Eleven days (?!) since my last post. I have no real excuse, except that there's not all that much more to see.

Yes, the slate floor is now finished in the living room - but still not grouted.

The wooden library floor went in - counter-sunk face nails, and all.
As you see.

Now, for the dining room.
One wing wall is mostly finished.
The mason [note the intentional use of the singular] was last here sometime last week, when I got this picture of him working on the other wing wall. He hasn't been seen since. No final grade [read: "No hope of getting plants in."] until the wing walls are both done.
After a potential disaster in the kitchen [you don't want to know], we're expecting a new cabinet in a few weeks, but the countertop has been templated [per picture below] and is scheduled to go in tomorrow.I have been assured that the errant cabinet will "slide right in." And that would be in the vacant spot to the far left in the picture.

Stay tuned.

proper grounding

You remember this, don't you? With the orange floor?
Well, it's orange no more. The slate is wild.
In the library, the wide plank wood floor has arrived and is "acclimating" before it's put down.

the great chicken conspiracy

OK - I am not making this up. Everywhere I turn, there's more info on backyard chickens.

More stuff on how cool it is to have chickens around - see This Week in Chickens at Garden Rant. What to do for vacation chicken care? Check out this article.

It appears:

1. They're not noisy
2. They don't stink
3. They're not much more trouble than the average dog or cat

So there.

Now. I wonder how hard it will be to find a couple that lay those pretty blue eggs?

let's see, now. . . .

The courtyard is really shaping up.
Inside, we would appear to be continuing on with an orangey-apricot theme. Eeek!
But no, it's just the subfloor, over which the slate will go. Here's a couple of pieces just laid out.

"here. . . chickchickchickchick!"

The Hillmans in Ireland keep a very cool blog detailing their country life and Sally Gardens Smallholding.

Today, they talked about raising chickens.

This is of interest to me, as I have become more and more incapable of ignoring the conditions under which we seem to be producing our "food" here in the States. Food mass-produced becomes inhuman at some level. I think we reached that level a long time ago, but I'm only just now being forced to recognize it. I will not go into details. We all 'know' what we're trying so hard not to know. . . . Suffice it to say that I am avoiding the "bargain" chicken slaughter on offer at the local supermarket. At present, I have assuaged my complicity by buying "organic" or "free-range", but it may very well come to the point of buying local, where I can actually see the conditions under which animals we eat are being raised.

Consider what the Hillmans point out:

[It's] four months from hatching to table in comparison to just over thirty days for most commercially grown chicken. Our chicken will be far superior in flavour, low in fat and high in nutrients thanks to their slow growth, organic feed and happy free ranging lifestyle.

What I really enjoyed, however, is reading about their life with the animals, and observation of the animals' lives and habits. Not all the chickens are destined "for the table." Like beef, it's generally the young males. Sorry, guys!

I don't think I could bring myself to "dispatch" any chicken, though, except under dire necessity, so I'm thinking I'm just a hypocrite, coming and going.

I have friends and family, however, who might not be horribly averse to dispatching [EEEEK-- and "cleaning" !!!] a chicken. . . . if we were to find ourselves with a chicken or two on hand, and a few extras roaming around?

[Just teasing, my king.] sort of. . . .

plugging along

Yesterday, we met Tom-builder at the site to map out the driveway, courtyard entrance, and front driveway entrance onto the street so that the final grade and hardscape [ok - "gravel-scape"] bits can be completed as soon as the painters and stucco guys are finished swarming all over the house.

I have high hopes for beginning the garden move soon after.

We have water on-site, now!

And I'm thinking that the workers will probably be going in and out of the doors from now on, rather than pulling up just anywhere in their trucks and trampling everything in sight.

Speaking of doors, here's the front door, finally visible.

Here, having stained the windows, the painter has finally cleared off much of the protective wrapping and you can begin to see the lookout from the living room into the greenwood. It looks "quiet, dark and deep" - even now in the summer - for those who recognize Frost when they hear him. . . .

up to his usual tricks

My, what sharp puppy teeth you have, Lairdy Luther!I'm blooded and bruised, today. I'm trying to get the hang of making THE WALK fun for both of us, without turning it into a free-for-all.

Yesterday, I erred on the side of no-fun for either of us. Today, it was on the side of free-for-all. Fun for him, not as much for me.

Luther was a-leapin' and a-cavortin' and having a grande old time. Unfortunately, my shin bone and ankle bone took a bit of a beating, as -apparently - also did my forearm, as I discovered when I got home and saw the blood on my shirt.

I might have to get that spray-on tanning stuff. The purple, green and yellowish hues of the bruises of various past days' encounters are not a real good look for me.

Back to the drawing board. [fun for both of us is the desired result. remember.]

the gray is just a memory now. . . .

By the time we get there today, I don't think there will be any coloured stucco remaining to be done. Here, you see they were finishing the studio yesterday.In the back, the first stucco applied has really faded back - to the point where I'm thinking that I don't want it to fade any more.
This, by the way, is Ebert: the man responsible for mixing the colour.
"Most people choose beige." he told me yesterday.

"I can see why", I retorted, "choosing this colour has given me sleepless nights, worrying that it would stay this colour!" We laughed.

Perversely, now I'm worried it won't keep enough of it. . . . [colour, that is]

inside and out

Outside, you can see how much the colour has dried back. The back guest house was done a couple days ago; the front part was done just this morning.One wall of the studio has gotten stuccoed.
Meanwhile, inside, the library fireplace is in.
As are the hallway arches.
Lots of decisions - now - to be made. It's overwhelming. Occasionally, infuriating. How long have I talked about the 'hurry up and wait' syndrome? Well now, it's: having waited so long - after hurrying - now hurry! hurry! hurry!!!

colour musings

The colour has mellowed a bit, as you can see.

Here's the picture the same day it went up. It might look the same to you on the screen, but trust me! It's mellowed.


. . . .and look! The cross beams are in on the back portico. Yes, that's apricot on the back wall, as well.
It is really vivid going up, isn't it? This is a colour you have to have some courage to go for. Once stucco goes up, you don't paint it. That's the colour it is. . . . but you can't get it that colour, unless you're willing to risk passing through the vivid.

I think there's a life lesson to be learned here.