This Old House

Too keep myself on track, or at least remotely inspired I subscribed to several old home/restoration/farmish/do-it-youself type magazines. The spring copy of This Old House came yesterday, and in it the editor was talking about a job he had to do at a relatives house. And he described the house as ramshackle. I immediately thought "Omigod, I think I live in a ramshackle house." At least, if This Old House was to walk by, they would call it ramshackle. I think I am going to embrace that word, and make it my own.

There is a wierd feeling I get when I get home late from work, all is dark, the kids are at their dads. My house looms. It is not even very big(!) 1900 sf or so, and it literally looms above me as I walk up. It is not an ominous looming, just a presence. As in, I have stood here at this spot for a dang long time and you gotta respect that, lady.
I cannot help but think how proud the original owner who built it must have felt. It seems BIG for its era of modest Poulsbo farmhouses, and the proud feeling I have of making this a home for my family has to be nothing next to the feeling of building it 106 years ago out of nothingness on empty logged dirt.

How to Change a Light Fixture - the slow way

Sad picture of sad 'new' light without fancy shade. See the lovely hole I made around the switch on the wall? A similar lovely hole is in the ceiling now.

Denis' rear clambering into the wee roof space next to the chimney. He could not fit that rear between the chimney and roof, which is of course where the light spliced from.

This is almost embarrassing to write. But obviously not embarrassing enought to stop me. OR I have reached an age where I don't give a rip anymore. This is the story of a hallway light.
1. In August I noted the upstairs light blew its lightbulbs out. Literally shot them out of the socket. Recognizing the ineptitude of the previous owners who overwatted every single rippin' light fixture in this house of knob and tube wiring.... that it was more than likely due to that.
2. I went to Home Despot and got a simple fixture and from one of my fave antique stores a 'vintage' glass light shade. Vintage in this story means 'overpriced'... but attractive.
3. I took down the old fixture. Which was only a couple years old. But way overpowered for the wiring that led up to it.
4. Noted that the wires were coming directly out of the wood ceiling. As in, two holes were drilled and two wires poked through.
5. Sighed. Went back to Home Despot and got a junction box. It is my goal to slooooowly correct things as I discover them.
6. Changed hallway light switch that controls this to a dimmer switch. Had to drill and rasp the wood hole bigger to fit the dimmer.
7. Waited about two months... needed to go into the attic to make the hole bigger to fit the junction box. Needed daylight and I always seemed to be doing something else during the day, plus had promised Wilder he could go up in the attic with me.
8. Crawled in attic through the secret door in the bathroom.
9. Promptly began my usual cursing when I see what the previous owners have done. Gentle cursing, since my kids were present. My new favorite is "Oh, Flagnon!" You must see monsters vs. aliens to get this one. (Highly recommend this movie) I digress.
10. What the hell was my inspector doing up here a year ago??? Because he sure didn't mention that my outlets and ceiling lights are crappily/haphazardly spliced off the knob and tube wiring. Also, did not mention that the insulation is right up against the knob and tube. Flagnon! Can we say let's just friggin' burn the house down.
Grrrrrr.
11. ANYWAY, got the kids' dad to crawl up there so I could work from the second floor and he keep the electric lines away from my sawing to make the fixture box hole larger. It was right next to the chimney, so we could not fit. (the original person must have been teeny who put that in) I stood underneath with my eyes closed and sawzall'ed the hole in the wood ceiling. I had sawdust everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Ears, Eyelashes, Underwear. And I was wearing goggles. Put the box in. It was the wrong type. But we made it fit.
12. Put up fixture.
13. Put up lightshade. It did not fit over the new fixture with regular bulbs.
14. Waited a week.
15. Went to Lowe's for a bathroom window and found small lightbulbs that allow the 'vintage/overpriced' shade to now fit.
16. Will have my electrician redo this when he comes over, or at least give him a good laugh as he fixes it.
17. I really do love my house. It teaches me patience, and grace. Who needs anything other than children, four old walls, an ex, a job, horses, throwing up cats, a leaning chicken coop, leaking siding and a furball dog to teach you humility, kindness, time management and letting go of perfectionistic tendencies?
18. Oh wait. I have not let go of perfectionistic tendencies yet.

Two Pics of My House - 1900's and 2009

Now.... and

Then!

Just recently went to the local tax assessors office to find out any information on my house. On the very last page of the 14 page document was a scan. I showed this to a friend and she shuddered. "This is YOUR HOUSE?" She has not seen it in person... so maybe she thinks I live in this house now. ? The naive thing about me is I would Love to live in this house. With a furnace and maybe change those one over two windows glass to double pane. Electricity would be great, too.

Note the wee linden tree on the right of the picture which now towers over this house. And the small quince bush that became a towering mess-o-branches near the front door that I recently had yanked. The bush, not the front door. Sometimes correct grammar eludes me.

Seattle House Sold

Something that has been lurking in the background of our lives is an unsold house. Immediately before this 'downturn' in the economy, we took out a heloc on our Seattle house. I used that to purchase this new house... okay, this new old house. Then the economy tanked, and we sat on the house for 7 months dropping the price... and dropping the price.
Well no more. The house sold. I did not think it was bothering me, but I realize it was. Now, NOW things can get rolling. I can put stuff away, I can rearrange things, I can put pictures up. I did not think I was waiting, but I must have been. Now I can clear out all the crap. Yippee yay!

Happy Easter! Week in a nutshell.

I am sure Rose is giving me a teenage lecture about something in this picture.

Wilder wishing you a Happy Day
Happy Easter, all. Here is the week in a nutshell.
1. Joined Facebook a bit ago. Former friends from eons ago are coming out of the woodwork. What a strange thing. Don't join Facebook if you are trying to avoid any portion of your previous life. It will find you...
2. Went and helped at the Wing Luke Museum auction. Besides my legs swelling because I was wearing RIDING BOOTS to run around and pack up sold auction items, and wandering the streets of Seattle afterwards because I forgot where I parked (that is a first) it was a blast. Was helped by Seattle's finest homeless folk with the car hunt. Very nice. And, helped me get the big-butted white minivan out of a tight spot. That is where it pays to be a very tall woman. I don't generally get messed with. Re: museum.... if you are in Seattle, I highly recommend a visit to this stellar place, which has become one of my new favorites! www.wingluke.org
3. Slowly things are blooming on the farm. Forsythia and the plum trees are the first to show. (And of course daffodils)
4. Have not been hearing from Mae as much as I usually do. There is a good reason for that. On her way to visit me during spring break with her horses, one flipped out in their trailer and tore part of her hoof off trying to climb the wall. Not pretty. She has a long recovery (horse, not Mae) and all extra moments are taking care of the horse or finding a better horse trailer.
5. Had a toilet explode downstairs. And, it was not a clean toilet. We don't need to say more, other than there was a strong smell of bleach for a day after. I need to replace this bathroom. But am waffling on whether to move it up my priority list. Rose was an immense help running around getting me things as I swore 25 cent words and snarled. She said I was not nice. Welllllll, I was standing in sewage in bare feet. See, another good point to being married. I didn't have to do this before! Thank you kids dad for all the times you did. I feel your pain, now. I can think about it and say.....Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. I am cooking my first vegetarian dinner (for kids dad) for Easter. Wish me luck. I am thinking just a big pile of vegetables should do it. The kids and I will enjoy a more delectable assortment of standard easter goodness.