the chambers

I don't think I've been so excited about a project since the lockers-inset-in-the-wall incident. Or actually, even that wasn't as exciting as my new baby. My Chambers Stove.

Ahhh, my Chambers Stove! I can't even tell you how long I've wanted one of these. At least a decade. I've tried to pick one up in every city we've lived in except Dublin (where I briefly switched my longing to an Aga. Because, well, who wouldn't want an Aga?) but have always been foiled. For a long time I just couldn't convince Will that it was a good, or safe, or efficient. And then once I had (because for a 70 year old stove, they can be remarkably safe and good and efficient. You can cook with the gas turned off once the stove has been heated to the right temperature. I'd like to see a modern stove do that) they were suddenly popular and hard to find for less than an arm and a leg.

I've been watching Craigslist since we got here. Not obsessively, but just checking in every now and then, waiting. Which is how I found our friend here. Practically for free, totally rusted and perfectly located between a lecture Will was giving last week in New York and home. He was going to drive by it anyway...so why not. Which is how I came to be in possession of my very own Chambers B model (although it may be a BZ, the serial number is so grotty I can't read it yet).

She is probably from the mid 40's. My guess, from looking at lots of photos of similar stoves, is 1944, but I'll be able to figure that out better when she is a little cleaner. And she's got some pretty cool features. That whole cook with the gas off, a deep-well burner that is like a built in crock pot. The griddle pops up and is a broiler underneath. Swanky, right? She needs an overhaul, but we need a new stove anyway and it will be cheaper to do that than to buy a new one. Or that's what I keep telling myself. And Will. It will take some major shifting of the kitchen to make her fit. We actually came up with a renovation plan that included one of these stoves when we first bought the house but scrapped it thinking we wouldn't find the stove. So that is possibly back. Or we may do something different. Either way it's a long term project. And if we ever leave this house, she's going to have to come with me. Unless we are going to a house that already has one. Or an Aga. Because, like I said, who wouldn't want an Aga.

stick season

When I was little, probably not much older than Evie is now, I wrote an essay or a poem or a story on Seattle. I remember this because in my poem/story/essay I said that Seattle had only one season, gray, and someone told me that that wasn't a very nice thing to say. I wasn't trying to be rude, it was more of  a poetic observation. I'd only been to the city a few times and it had always seemed gray when we were visiting. I thought it was kind of romantic, to be honest.

It's not true, of course. Seattle, and Portland do not have one season. They have two. Raining, and Not Raining. The Not Raining season being so spectacular that it makes up for the much longer Raining season. And thank goodness.

Vermont is the complete opposite. Instead of two season, or four, we have six. And I'm pretty sure that anyone who live here, or in New Hampshire, and probably Maine and parts of Massachutses and New York, would agree. We have summer and spring and winter and fall, and then we have two more - mud season and stick season. They are the inbetween season. The not quite one and not quite the other seasons. Mud season streches for the weeks when the snow has gone but spring has not quite sprung. And stick season, where we are now, falls after the leaves but before the snow.

Sometimes I think they are trail run seasons. Nature saying "Are you ready? Are you? You don't seem quite ready, how about a few days of frigid weather and then a few balmy ones to kick you into action on all those winter chores." And so we do. Chop a little more wood, clean up fallen trees after a storm, stuff steel wool and then insulation into crevices to keep the mice and the wind out. And then sit around the woodstove and enjoy the stark light and the snugly animals and children.

In the cold and wind this weekend we finished shingling the new room. Stiff fingers dropping nails all over the place, dashing inside for tea and to warm up by the fire before heading out again. There is still more to do, finishing touches. Paint and stain, if we get a few more warm days, trim and edging along the porch, drywall tape and mud and paint on the inside. But the big job is done. I think it makes the house look more balanced, as though it was always meant to be this way.

We still have a few more weekends, probably, to finish up the out of doors work before we move in and switch modes to winter. There are places that still need insulation, and more down logs after a big storm that need to be cleared. And the chickens need to be moved and the bees need to be wrapped to give them their best chance of survival over the winter.

The cold is coming. Although I enjoy stick season, enjoy spotting houses and views that are hidden when the trees are leafed out, I'm looking forward to the snow. But not yet. I'm not quite ready yet.

demo

So this happened this weekend.

Actually, It happened last weekend, this weekend we just made it worse.
Demolition.

Renovating our house is, obviously, something of a hobby of ours. And I love it when a space turns out just the way we planned it but this, this is not my favorite part. This was the sunroom. Which, in the year and a bit that we've lived here has gotten zero use. It's too big and too uninsulated and too, I don't know, superfluous. So it's being turned into a smaller more outsidish porch and a much needed guest room/craft room off the living room. Smaller, insulated windows. Thick, insulated walls (can you tell I'm really into insulation? Yeah, remember when it was negative 24 here? It's all about insulation)

We are aiming for two weeks to completion. Which is totally crazy and probably unattainable but we will try. For now we are stepping over the piles and shifting tools here and there and generally living amidst the chaos. Ah renovation. My old friend.

how to paint stripy steps without loosing your marbles: a tutorial

It's been a long time since I've written a tutorial. Not because we haven't been up to lots of things around the house but, well, they haven't been very tutorial worthy. What can I say about a wallpapered piece of plywood other than, um, wallpaper a piece of plywood? For the most part our projects these days involve either planting veggies or flowers in the yard or painting. We're on our second round of painting. In theory, all the rooms that didn't get painted last fall will get paint now. Except for Briton's room. Which we are not allowed to change. Whatever. If he likes half painted walls and a rug over plywood, so be it.

But the stairs. They took some serious thinking and planning. So I thought I'd share. Plus I love them. It makes me smile every time I look at them.

Our stairs are, barring the you may not change this floor in Briton's room, the only raw floors left after the great carpet removal of last August. The living room floor is painted, awaiting hardwood flooring someday, and the upstairs is bamboo floored. But the stairs were a little bit of a problem. At some point we'd like to put new treads in. Nice, solid hardwood ones that will match out kitchen floors. Except man, treads are expensive. Plus since the rise of the steps is also rough plywood, that will have to be replaced as well. Which makes it a big, expensive project. And not really one at the top of the priority list. I've had this stripy steps idea in my head almost since we moved in and the plan has gone through lots of possibilities. Carpet? Too expensive. And also too hard to find in stripes we liked. And also I hate carpet. Canvas runner? Too trippy. I can just see one or all of us falling down the steps when it gets worn and baggy. I almost went with the kind of tape they use on gym floors. Bright, colorful and practically permanent, but in the end, paint seemed the easiest option. And as a result of our many, many painting projects, and painting ideas, we had lots of little cans of different paint colors. Blue from the kitchen, pink that almost was in Evie's room, yellow from the bench, green from, actually, I have no idea where that green came from.

The big challenge, however, is how to get nice, neat, straight lines without going nuts. As it turns out, it's not as hard as it looks but I'll warns you, it is tedious. This is not a one day project. There is much sitting around waiting for things to dry, and then adding another coat, and then waiting some more. But that's good, Because while one stripe is drying you can still walk on the other parts of the steps. Which, unless you have two sets of stairs in your house or you don't need to get up them, is necessary.

So, here's how you do it.

First paint the edges of the steps with your base color. I used the white trim paint we are using all over the house. Sebring White from Benjamin Moore if anyone is interested. It's our go-to white for flat and glossy paints. I decided that I wanted the border to fall 8 inches from each side of the steps and used a ruler to mark that out, then painted about an inch over that mark. After the third coat had dried, it was time for.....another coat. Except this one is special and it's the secret to really neat and clean stripes (I wish I'd figured this out long ago)

Using regular masking tape, no need for the fancy painters tape here, I taped off the line at the 8-inch mark and then painted over the tape with the white. Why? Well, if you've ever tried to use tape to make a perfect line you know that, inevitably, no matter how much you smooth it down, paint is going to leak under. By painting the stripe line first with the white the paint that leaked under is the same as the base and the tape line is sealed in. Once the white was dry I added yellow on one side and dark blue on the other, painting out, again, slightly further than I wanted that particular stripe to go.(It's easier to see on the yellow, but obviously I did the white first)

Again with the paint several coats, tape, paint another coat (hint, don't just paint on the raw side of the tape, otherwise you'll have a weird line in the middle of your stripe and have to go back and touch it up. Lesson learned) then add a new color, until you've filled the space.
There is a lot of dry time needed here but since I chose not to use floor paint (too expensive, takes too long to dry and, in our experience, didn't hold up any better than trim paint) it wasn't too painful. I will recommend shutting your animals in a bedroom or outside each and every time you start to paint and leaving them there till that stripe is dry. Unless you want little yellow kitty footprints on your kitchen floor.

Just sayin.

A little note on cleaning. Because we've lived with painted plywood floors for almost a year now, I've had plenty of time to try out different cleaning methods and have finally struck on something that works. Most of the time my painted floors just get a good sweep and vacuum and then a once over with a Bona mop and wood floor cleaner. But about every three weeks I use a long handled bristle brush and give it a scrub with a mixture of hot water and just a little washing soda. Just a little. Otherwise there is a white film when it dries. I use an old pan and put about a teaspoon of soda in with the water. I follow up with a dry towel to wipe up the water (no standing water on wood floors!) and the floors look almost new. Since the part of the stairs people tend to walk on are stripy and not white, the steps stay pretty clean and have, so far, just needed sweeping.

So there you go. Stripy steps. Not the craziest thing we've done. Probably not even in the top ten (not even close to the time we took a bus and then a train and then another bus to that sketchy IKEA in London when Briton was a toddler. Geesh that was one long, slightly frightening day. )

sun on wood

Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to have floors? Well if I haven't, it is. Wonderful. And much softer on the feet. Everyone seems to agree. It's all done now other than a teeny little troublesome narrow piece at the back of Will's closet which will get done, well, maybe never, but you can't really see it anyway. Ahhhh.

And now... I think it's time to paint the stairs.

the kitchen now

The kitchen is...not done. But it's made some serious progress since we moved in almost 9 months ago, when it looked like this.

There are still so many things to do. New counter top on one side, new drawer and cabinet fronts (or painting the existing ones), a new sink and appliances (oh please, please manky refrigerator, last until we can replace you!) But of course, it can't come all at once. Set aside the cost issues and the fact that we have a long list of other, more pressing projects to do around the house and we still have the little thing of needing to cook two or three meals a day for two hungry kids to work around. But slowly and surly, a little bit by a little bit, it's getting there. This weekend it was new lights, last week we started replacing the handles and pulls, a few weeks ago it was tile (still to be completed once we find the perfect pencil tile trim for the corners). It's coming. And it's so much nicer, half finished though it is. The walls are brighter. The lights are brighter! The open shelves are easier to use than the shallower cupboard. The pantry is full of mouse proof jars. It's spiffed up and a little more modern without being hard and cold, at least it seems that way to us. But mostly it just feels better. Feels more us.

floors (at last!)

After seven months (seven months!) of plywood floors (and one with nasty smelly carpet) covering most of the house, we are finally finally finally walking on lovely smooth new floors. At least upstairs. In the den. Because the bedrooms aren't done yet.

But still!

Floors!

Downstairs we're still rocking the painted and sanded plywood. Which is fine. We've got all sorts of decisions to make (new woodstove or old, new wall heater or radiant flooring, what kind of hearth, what size of hearth....my head spins just thinking about it) before we can pick out and install flooring downstairs. Plus the sanding and painting of the downstairs plywood made it relatively smooth and presentable. But the upstairs plywood, blarg.

Halfway through installing it we looked around and realized that it's so shiny and smooth and new that it almost looks...fake. Or maybe it's just that in all the places and houses and lived in we've never had new flooring. Ever. Ever, ever. We've refinished old floors and lived with truly decrepit ones and even had nicely kept up old floors, but never had new ones. And it's really, really nice.

We've still got two more rooms to do and then the stairs before we're finished but I keep finding myself wanting to hangout up there in the den so I can just smile at them. Ahhh. One project (almost) down. Only...um... right, too many to count really, to go. Small victories though. Yes?

hang dry

When we lived in Ireland, one of my friends lived in a classic straight up and down Georgian town house that I loved, especially since we lived in about half a floor of a similarly sized building. Besides being pretty jealous of her large kitchen, and gigantic bathtub (truly, her bathroom was bigger than our bedroom) I was completely envious of her airing cupboard.

To be honest, I didn't know what an airing cupboard was before we moved there, but once I discovered it, and especially since we had a teeny tiny washer/dryer combo that didn't do much along the drying lines, I really would have loved one. And I've been wishing I had one ever since. And airing cupboard is basically just a cupboard for your water heater or boiler that also has shelves for storing towels and sheets near the warmth to keep them dry. But, at least for my friend, it was also where she hung dry clothes. And that, that is what I want. A nice warm place to hang up all those clothes that we don't like to put in the dryer.

When I went to re-sort our linen closet this fall, I realized that our linen closet is piping hot anytime the fire is going and warm most of the time that it isn't, and I've been meaning to figure out some way to harness this and rig up my own airing cupboard. Eventually I'd like to put some slated shelves in there, but for now, I rigged up a closet rod to hang things from while they dry. And after a little test run last night with some wet laundry which was nice and dry by this morning, I think I've got it. Yay!

And yes, those are our lovely plywood floors. One of these days they'll be gone. (Please please not too long!)

down to the studs

Oh yes. You know that some serious renovation is happening when you see studs and insulation. And also when you have to rely on your phone for pictures because you don't want to risk your real camera with all the dust.

It will be some time before it's finish finished. No all in one go kitchen re-do this time. But it's looking so much brighter and open and us. Well, except for the pink insulation hanging out of the wall. That's not really our color (although Evie likes it) but still, slow and stead, weekend afternoon by weekend afternoon, it's a comin.

painting and planning

It's snowy and soft this morning. My favorite kind of winter day. Not the oh-so-very-cold temperatures of last week, but still cold enough that the icicles aren't melting and the fresh snow from last night, which at the time was not so much fun to drive in but is now looking very pretty indeed, will stay nice and fluffy and soft all day long.

We had a quiet weekend following a minor bathtub related concussion on Friday night. Lots of couch time and movies for the patient, doctor's orders. And her brother was happy to keep her company. She's all better now, crossing her fingers that I will consent to some zip-line time when she gets home (I'm not sure about that, we'll see). But two days of kids on couches lazing the hours away gave Will and I time to make lots of decisions about the house that we've been dithering on. This planning craze I'm in, well, it's extended inside I'm afraid. And so there are more plans afoot. As long as it's too snowy for beehive building, it's just right for painting and tiling and painting some more. There are lots of things in our house that need replacing. They function, but only just (like our kitchen drawers which really need replacing before they start refusing to go back permanently. At the moment we can talk them into it with much cursing, some screw tightening and a little WD-40, but alas, that won't last I fear) Lots of places that, after years of renters, need paint. And of course, LOTS of flooring.

This weekend we wiled away the afternoons painting the kitchen, which is the darkest room in the house. Too much dark paint and dark wood on floors and cabinets AND counter tops. We're trying to find a better balance of wood and paint to lighten things up. It's still in limbo at the moment, but improving, with more to be done next weekend. We'll call it Phase One of a multi-phase, year long plan to overhaul it. After lots of contemplation, hours spent on Pinterest and many, many color strips brought home from the hardware store, the colors are not so very different than what we had in our old (much loved) kitchen. Darker in some cases. Warmer in others. A little more white and wood and color instead of white and metal and color. But still, similar. What can I say, I'm a sucker for dark grey-blue. The main thing is that we have a plan at last. And paint.

And one room's paint color inevitably leads to the other. So we have more paint strips sitting on the table, mixed in with the ever present playing cards and the cribbage board, which was dug out this weekend when movies became boring (imagine that!). And that paint color, still not quite chosen, has me thinking about what the room after that will be. And on it goes.

mittens gloves hats (and more mittens)

Our house has lots of little odd quirks that I often didn't appreciate until I found myself in need of something...and bam! Ah! That's what that thing is for.

Like the weird spiny dowel contraption fastened to the wall in the basement that looks like it could easily take out the eyes of three passersby in one go. This summer it did a decent job of drying towels and swimsuits and float tubes but now-now that there are snowy and wet and muddy boots all over the place-now I get that it's a boot drying rack. And all those odd angles meant that you can dry LOTS of boots all at once.

Or the oddly configured coat hanging rack in the sunroom which is actually, we've figured out, meant to hold skis upright out on the tile floor where they can drip dry in peace. (It's pretty good for snowshoes as well)

The two linen closets seemed to have a strange lack of shelving on the bottom half until I realized the opening was the perfect height for a vacuum, which means that for the first time ever I actually have a place to put my vacuum away. And bonus! The upstairs linen closet uses the chimney as a back wall, which means that blankets and sheets pulled from it on cold nights are nice and toasty.

The list goes on. I suppose this is what comes when someone builds a house over time (ten years, I believe) and thinks about each step carefully. Handy spaces. And also hyperinsulation, since almost every wall was, at some point, an exterior wall. It's warm in here.

But it was never a house with kids. Not till ours. And while its former life as a ski house-with all the nooks and crannies that implies for bunking down extra people - adapts itself well to kids, there are a lot of things that are not as kid accessible as they could be. The bar side of the kitchen counter is a few inches too tall, even with a bar stool, for little bodies. The hatch to Briton's room would have given me a heart attach if my kids were any younger. And the storage in the mudroom (and everywhere else) is all at tall-adult height. Which means that I spend a lot of time picking mittens and hats and gloves and scarves off of the floor.

We have, as you might guess, a lot of winter accessories to deal with these days. Ski goggles and soft gloves and waterproof gloves and bootliners. There's a lot of it, all the time. And while I love having a mudroom - LOVE having a mudroom - I don't love sopping wet mittens on the floor. A) Who wants sopping wet mittens on the floor and B) Even worse, when you leave wet mittens on the floor they don't dry, and then there is whining about cold, wet, useless mittens. For the past few weeks we've gotten by with a basket on the bench. But it was neither big enough nor sturdy enough to hold up against the onslaught of getting ready in the morning/flying in the door in the afternoon.

I pondered and pinterested and finally found a pair of old kids bike baskets on ebay that I thought would do the trick. They arrived with the hardware hooking them together to hang over the back wheel still attaches (ahem, rusted on) and there was a little bit of swearing involved getting them apart, but once I did, the rest was pretty quick and painless. I used a piece of leftover wood we had stained with vinegar to do a repair in the kitchen. It's not a perfect match, but it's close, and bits of the hardware that arrived with it to attach them, one over the other, to the wall. One for us, one for them. So far, so good. Not a wet mitten on the floor in sight (not that that will last, but a mama can try)

Now I just need to decide what color to paint the mudroom because boy is it hard to take a decent picture with that muddy tan paint on the wall (and also it's pretty blah to look at). Humm... Suggestions?