Little House on the Hillside

With the arrival of warm weather comes a plethora of projects that we have been dreaming about all winter long. Woodshed, garden shed, trim, soffits, railing on the deck, bucking up wood, take your pick. We decided to start with gardens and a brick walkway. The gardens consist of a few raised beds, a few more beds created wherever we found some space, and a three bin compost system. They are coming along great. The brick walkway was an adventure, made all the more interesting by using salvaged bricks that were not uniform in size, shape or color. But it adds character, and what was once a chimney in Concord, NH is now an inviting walkway in Nelson. It came out pretty good, but I, and my back, are glad it is done.

Our two cats spend a lot of time on our wide window ledges, looking at the bird feeders and keeping an eye on the turkeys. Recently, however, it seems they have found a special friend. His name is Earl, and I think he is a bit lonely. Either that, or he has been infused with the spirit of bi-partisanship that has swept the country with the advent of the Obama administration. Whatever the case, Earl the Squirrel is trying to make nice with Finn and Frodo.
I see him, coming across the snow, heading towards the bird feeders. He often stops on a little mound of snow, stands on his hind legs, and looks into the windows. If he sees the cats, he bounds over, jumps up onto the bulkhead, and scrambles up to the window ledge. The cats initially freak out a bit, but Earl sits there calmly and suffers their puffy tails and paws batting at the glass. Soon, all three of them just hang out together, looking at each other with great interest and wondering why they all just can't get along. I cannot say for certain, but I can almost swear I heard Finn humming 'Imagine' by John Lennon.
Earl wants nothing to do with me, of course, so I am careful no to approach their gatherings too closely. I was able to get this quick picture to prove my tale, however.

 

When Anne and I were planning our house, we spent many hours scouring the web for other folks who had built First Day Cottages like we hoped to. We found some blogs and sites that were extremely helpful and most were laden with photos of all of the different phases of construction. But as we looked for pictures of the finished product, we kept hitting a wall. It was frustrating and we could not understand why these slackers had stopped taking photos when they had finally completed their monumental labors. Then, we built our house. Now we understand. Here's our blog, 16 months after moving in, with few pics of what our cottage looks like. Actually, the last 3 months of the building process seem to be sorely under-represented. Well, when you are racing bank deadlines, weather, and your own overly-ambitious schedule as well as bending to the schedules of plumbers, appraisers and utility guys, blogging ranks low on the punch-list of priorities.
But better late than never. So here are some pics of the 'finished' product, with many more in the Photo Gallery on the right. Anne did some crazy stitching together of multiple shots to give a wide-angle look, which accounts for the fishbowl-like quality and raged edges. Hopefully they will give an idea of where we are at in the process and how our hard work paid off.

We reached a milestone, of sorts, with the creation of this built-in bench. We have at least five built-in pieces of furniture planned, and this is part one of number one. It was nice not to be rushed while doing something for once, and it came out just like I wanted it to. It is really useful and looks swell. With the addition of either some hooks or cubbies up above, this little area will serve to hold a lot of stuff.

We were never too enamored with the cabinets that came with our house kit. They are perfectly functional.  Oak and plywood, nice hinges, cheap drawer slides, thin doors, but what can you do? They serve the purpose. But they never looked right amongst the stainless and slate. They needed some zip.
Well zippity-doo-da , gimmie a hey and a hoo-ha! After many meetings, confabs, bull-sessions, tete-a-tetes, tea parties and fireside chats we decided on a color. I must admit, the idea came from sister Carrie (not Sister Carrie, my 4th grade French teacher, but my sister-in-law Carrie, of the Brooklyn Carries) who suggested a terra-cotta. Until that point, we were leaning towards green, and sister Bridget (not Saint Bridget, the patron saint of Sweden, although she is ethereal) was lobbying for black--I think she was sniffing turpentine. Anyway, cooler heads prevailed, and we chose a deep red that looks great against the slate counter and adds a sense of depth to the kitchen. A few knobs and pulls later and we were in business.

    Meanwhile, tension between the cats and the wild turkeys runs high. Although there has been much posturing from each side, no strikes have been launched. Independent monitors are on high alert and will report any instance of fowl play.

     So we now have this great little house. We are very happy with how it came together: the layout, window placements, functionality. The tile looks great, the kitchen is primo, the floors shine like a waxed turtle (???). Then, we filled it with all of the tag sale cast-off third hand furniture we have acquired over the years. The pull-out couch with the tattered arms. The papasan chair that no one can sit in without going ass over teakettle. The loveseat we received from my sister on moving day (which is actually the nicest thing in here). The knocked-together shop class bookshelves next to the undersized coffee table beside the rickety student desk. We are bringing a whole new meaning to shabby chic.
We do have a few cool things. The old oak dining table is a perfect fit. The wild blue dresser somehow works. Our bed is comfortable. But I do not know what we would do without the modern-day savior of cash-strapped design-on-a-dimers everywhere, the slipcover.
Two tannish slipcovers, one for the couch, one for the loveseat. Just like that, we were back in the game. A couple of colorful pillows, a boldly patterned blanket and a few strong cocktails later, our rooms aren't looking too bad. A good save until we marshall the resources for some new furniture. Of course, the best thing we did was to jettison the papasan. Goodbye, dorm room--hello, showroom!

The next big step will be to agree on paint colors for the trim, cabinets, wainscoating, etc. Then the next even bigger step will be to actually apply that paint to the aforementioned surfaces. Then we will have what my mother-in-law refers to as 'Pop!' As of now, I guess we only have 'fizz.' But look out 'Pop!' I'm coming for you. And tell your buddies 'Snap' and 'Crackle' that they're next.

     Ok, it wasn't exactly a pound, it was the Monadnock Humane Society animal shelter. But it was furry, and I'll be damned if I wan't going to somehow make this title work. Anyway, this all points to one thing--actually, two things: cats on the hillside.
We finally got settled enough to go find a couple of cats to make our home even homier. After a few hours of looking, we chose two 1 year old boys, named Finbar and Frodo. How cool is that? We didn't even have to rename them! (truthfully, Finbar was known only as Finn, but we decided to make him a bit more formal and celtic-warrior sounding).
They are hilarious, get along very well,  and pretty much beat the stuffing out of each other every waking hour when they are not perched on laps. They are exactly what we were looking for.

The only bummer is that now we cannot name our first child Frodo, it would be way too confusing. Well, there's always Gandalf...

OK, a lot has happened since the last post, the major event being our actually living in the littlehouseonthehillside. Yes, it is 'finished', after a fashion, and life is grand.
What is decidedly not too grand is the status of this blog, which is very much like an ambitious vegetable garden. Started in spring with the best of intentions and energy, it showed great promise. Then, you fall a week behind in the weeding. Then another week. Soon, it is a cumulative disaster, and you couldn't possibly ever catch up, so you just sort of walk by the garden with guiltily averted eyes. What was once ordered beauty has become  a tangle of dandelions, dead flowers and rotten zucchinni. Yes, my blog has become akin to rotten zucchinni.
It would be futile to pick up where we left off, so I think what I will do is just give you a little update on how things are going right now. Later, I'll try to fill in what happened over the last three months or so in a series of flashbacks, much like the hit TV show 'Lost.' If I'm really good, each entry will end with a cliffhanger, leaving you anxiously awaiting the next entry. Or, when my riveting and hilarious building experiences are converted into a quirky yet poignant independent film that becomes the sleeper hit of next summer, the 'lost journal entries' will become part of the DVD extras, and you can find out what happened that way. Or, just give me a call and I'll just tell you what happened. At any rate, here we are:

Our little house is cozy, comfortable, and---a complete mess. We still have boxes everywhere, and as of yesterday there was a pile of lumber in the front hall. We work every day to get it a little less cluttered, and it is slowly evolving into a semblance of order. Art is going up, meals are being cooked, shelving and clothes rods added. But as the temperature begins to drop and we see the first couple of snowfalls blanket our woods, it feels absolutely fabulous to add another log to the woodstove and not have to be up on a roof attaching a ridge cap.
There are a bunch of new pictures over in the picture menu on the right. Here are a few highlights:

     This is a cautionary tale. It is a story of mice and men, of fur and plastic and, ultimately, tragedy. It begins sometime this past spring.
     I had been doing a fair bit of cutting inside the house with the chop saw, creating a sizeable amount of sawdust. Time to break out the Shop-Vac. We hadn’t used it since last fall, I think, when we were sucking up water from the basement before we had the roof on. I dragged it out, , plugged it in, and turned it on. Holy socks, why is it whining like a jet engine? And what is that burning smell? And where is the suction? Ah, I forgot to change the settings and filters from wet to dry. No big deal. So I swap the filters and make the adjustments. Same result. I dink around with it a little more, become frustrated, and put it in the corner, resorting to the broom and dustpan.
     A few weeks later I had an odd hour or so left at the end of the day. Wondering what to do, my eye strayed over to the vacuum. Ok, let’s rock, I thought (how embarrassing that I actually think in these terms). Over the past few weeks I had dug out the manual and fiddled with it a bit more, all to no avail. That day, I was determined to make it work.
     I started to take it apart, piece by piece. After removing a few covers and plates which clearly warned ‘DO NOT REMOVE’, I finally could get a little view of the motor, which to my novice eye, looked fine. I flipped it over and peered into the intake area, which was a bit obscured by some protective caging. Hmm, looks like some string or something is wound up in there. Maybe that is the problem. I get a long drill bit and start to pull this grayish fluff out from the innards of the vacuum motor. Man, what is this stuff? It almost looks like…hey, is that a tail? Oh, crap.
     Through some careful extraction and forensic techniques, I think I can paint an accurate picture of what happened to the Shop Vac. At some point in late fall, perhaps early winter, a mouse snuck into the house, looking for a warm place to bed down. It sees a long tube, crawls up it, and ends up in a cozy den. What a perfect place to sleep and store food. So he does. All is well until someone decides to turn on the 12 horsepower motor. Then, all is not so well. Frankly, things are decidedly unwell. But, at least he didn’t have time to ponder what was going on. Based on the position of the remains, I believe death was swift and humane, and probably beat being eaten by an owl or fox. Thus ends the tail.

     Just don't ask about the snake.

Here are some pics from the last few months, to go along with last week's entry.