Don't Look Now

Remember several entries ago, I described how we were going to remove those fabled zip-screwed cabinets and see exactly what was living behind them? Weren't you just dying to know what we found?
It was petty bad:

It looks like the devil's Rorschach test! We were living with this! Fortunately, it's in a hallway and not in the middle of the kitchen or something. So we cleaned it up in true improv HazMat fashion with disinfectants and gloves and I held my breadth. The we cordoned the area behind a plastic sheet and a couple of barriers (looks like a crime scene). We know the cause is a hole in the roof that made a persistent leak. Bob patched the hole and the permanent fix is coming in the warmer weather.

Missed Photo Op: The Southbury Police to the Rescue

What was I thinking? We had a close call yesterday and tremendous excitement and where was my camera? Upstairs sleeping. Here's what happened:
Bob went outside to saw some boards under the carport (home of my Future Studio). Our neighbor was outside and warned Bob that a suspiscious racoon (as in staggering as if drunk, out in daylight- possibly rabid) was roaming around and they had lost track of it. Bob promptly went back to sawing. A few minutes later, he comes in to tell me that the racoon was hiding behind some plywood, under the car port, just feet from where he was working. We called "the authorities" (local police) who dispatched a cruiser. (We watched as he drove up to the wrong house. That was funny; Bob had asked if they wanted directions...) Anyway, the policeman called the Animal Control Unit who helped flush the animal away from the house and the BOOM they shot it. So there's the officer with a smoking pistol, the heavily made up Animal Control Unit person (more eye makeup than even me!) with no gloves or eye or face protection and this dead racoon being boosted into a garbage bag by a neck loop device of some kind. And I neglect to photograph this???!?!??? What was I thinking?
Anyway, here's a picture of Jules who had to stay inside during all of this and seems to be asking, "Why don't I ever get to have any fun?"

I Lied

Okay so I admit that I lied, although it wasn't intended! The other day, I posted that the only cultivated planting to be found on our vast real estate holdings was that single shrub by the Equine Facility (aka "The Club House"). I was soooooooooooooooooooo wrong. Bob pointed out that there are honest to god BULBS erupting from the unfrozen srtip of mud next to our side door. Major excitement.

I can't even tell you what they are... the beginnings of small daffodils? Grape hyacinths (I don't think they come up this early, but next to the house is a warm pocket). It will be a welcome event when they bloom but it's supposed to sleet tommorrow morning!

Ceiling Confusion

How's that for a complicated confluence of corners and conduits? Typically, this type of visual conundrum is hidden behind sheetrock or plaster. But we get to live with a veritable riot of guts... kind of like a low-grade Pompidou Center. I am thinking a slow afternoon might be the perfect time to carefully paint each element a different brilliant color. Either that or cover the whole mess up with new wall board.

Gratuitous Cute Dog Photo and a Quick Fix

That's Jules asking, "Are we there yet?" while we were staying at our interim house. He's been a real trooper- not even a year old and he's had all kinds of crazy experiences (including being brought to Connecticut from Kansas by flying monkeys when he was only eight weeks old). Fortunately he's adaptable and seems to take it all in stride. That's what he gets for being an artists dog!
One of the first repairs we made at 965 Jeremy Swamp Road was to put up an emergency railing by the stairway. The previous owner had seen fit to saw off the railing leaving absolutely nothing between here and there. (We think this was to more comfortably squeeze the bath tub up when he put in the second bathroom). In any event, Jules loves to play on the landing and I was panicked to think that he (or a beloved friend) was going to simply misstep and plummet over a veritable precipice. I located some lattice stashed by the side of the house and Bob screwed it to a couple of pieces of wood and Voila! Tragedy averted.

It's not a permanent- or particularly lovely- solution, but we don't need to worry about this accident waiting to happen.



The One That Got Away Part 3

Here's another episode of Bob and Rita Attempt to Find A Place to Live. That's me photographing two real estate agents running for their lives. We had this effect on them. Many people in Litchfield County Connecticut live in barns and Bob and I debated being that kind of trendy. It's just that the barns in question were beyond redemption and tended to topple over.

Would you look at that roof line! This palace came equipped with absoluely nothing: no well, no septic, no nothing except a really nice five acres and a whole lot of asbestos contamination. There were several cows in residence despite the delapidation and ample evidence that four years ago we suffered through major ammounts of snow.

Fun With Geometric Shapes

Most people have openings perforating the walls of their homes. They are things called "doors" and "windows". We are fortunate to have additional openings; sort of bonus negative spaces.
                           

Our house is full of this sort of thing. I can only imagine that the previous owner was so enraptured with his Sawsall that he cast about for places to try it out and have fun with geometry. This approximation of a rectangle and circle is in what was the living room. Here's a close up:

I applaud his free hand flair. He apparently felt no need to measure or trace an outline, but dove right in with gusto- a veritable Jackson Pollack with a bold reciprocal saw.

We have yet to find uses for these holes and are open to suggestions.

Advancement

This is the first thing I found on the property to help me haul stuff over the snow. A two headed bull inverted table. I reversed the reins depending on the direction of travel. The stuff got strapped to the top. Trip after trip made a good path.(but it was heavy).

Here is the 1/2 inch Plywood Boggin. It's a real light weight lovely thing to use. Many trips later I'm still having fun with it. In fact moving in the snow has been easier than other conditions. Many heavy objects from one studio to another and I am still enamored with it.

Hello Appalachian Spring!

A friend remarked that things must at last be popping out from the snow what with the delightful change in the weather. Yes, I remarked, but not the sprouts of growing tips; we have emerging recyclables left by the previous occupant:

I am allowing that the yellow of the box is the same color as King Alfred daffodils.
Anyway, here's a somewhat familiar view of the end of our Bauhaus Chicken Coop. While the snow may cloak some landscaping mishaps, the melt off has revealed a full plastic trash receptacle, a semi-submerged wheelbarrow, a huge length of hose, boards studded with rusty nails, and many other goodies. And that was only Jules' fenced in puppy play yard! Bob is making a delivery at the dump right now.

Everyday, some new treasure comes to light: several acres of carpet remnants (predominately beige if any one is interested), three or four boat and snow mobile trailers, propane tanks, Weber grill. You name it, we probably have it.

The One That Got Away #2, Part 2

I still like this barn at that same property in Goshen.
But posting this edition of "The One That Got Away" has me reflecting on just how weird our entire real estate experience was. Do other people share such travails as full sized pigs in the middle of prospective living rooms? (Actually in the photos of the house up online if one knew what one was looking at!) Real estate agents that run around the sides of houses screaming? (That one got to Bob). We looked at loads of houses- I do mean lots and lots!!!- and most of them had issues, situations and anomalies. I suppose the charming combination of small budget and many requirements offers a peculiar and choice selection. Sch as the house in Northfield we looked at that lacked floors. And walls. We debated living in the kitchen... Or the other real estate woman who blithely waved off our concerns about the moldy walls in the bedroom with a blithe, "Oh, there's mold and then there's mold!". Ultimately, the whole "liveability factor" took precedent and I think we made the right decision.

Mystery Site #2: Top O' The Stairs

Today, if I do nothing else, I am going to conquer Mystery Site #2. Top O' The Stairs is an interesting site. When we toured the house waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in August, this cabinet wasn't there. There was (no more inexplicabally than anything else) a beige sofa stood on end to the right of this space. When we returned in early January for the final "walk through". this cabinet was zip screwed to the wall.

We suspected that something was up. Now, everytime I walk by I feel as if something were watching me... something evil and green and black and blue. Something slimey and moldy. We have determined that there is a leak in the side of our house and water is dribbling its merry way down so we expect to uncover the very worst. I'd leave the cabinet in place but I need it for storage in my studio. Wish me luck!

How F%#@ing Cool Is This?

Look! Look! Part of our vast real estate holdings! We really, truly have an honest-to-god running stream! Even though it's been off limits due to treacherous ice-encrusted snow (on a slippery slope, mind you) today I made my way down and photography and despite my aversion to all things snow and ice, I had to admit it was beautiful.

This was a stream arabesque with some hidden rocks or tree fall (trefoil) providing an unseen structure.

And there are two "bridges". The one on the right was cleverly constructed from a aluminum ladder dropped across the stream and covered by two planks. I have used that one to cross the stream and managed to not even fall in!

The One That Got Away Part 2

So here's another one that (probably fortunately) got away. There was an ancient house that was essentially condemned, a couple of barns in pretty awful shape and three and a half relatively okay acres. Oh, and there was also (inexplicably) a boat. Quite a large boat, too.

Anyway, I think it was the gravestone by the back door that scared us off from this monster. We sure do know how to pick them don't we? This particular place was priced at around $240,000. I suppose that simply underscores the reason that it took Bob and I so long to find the house we bought: there is a dearth of "affordable" housing that fit what we wanted. (ie, studio space, enough property to have a small zoo, privacy, level, usable acreage for gardening, not too distant from family, friends and jobs, etc etc). Let's face it: we wanted a lot for a small amount of money.

That's me by the front door of the studio building. It actually had a roof that covered 3/4 of the building.

So much depends upon

the plaid chair

By the red shed

In the snow.

Apologies to William Carlos Williams.
Might as well make art out of fallen debris! Such is life.

A Much Needed Shot of Green

I never expected that we would have access to such diversity in such a small corner of the universe, but we have a stream and a (diminuative) pond and a giant rock. Today Bob and Jules and I slid- walked across the ice crusted snow to check out the stream- still flowing! Too cold to want to linger there, but we anticipate constructing a "tea house" on the other (left) bank... perfect spot for idling a summer afternoon away. I debated posting a picture of the semi-frozen stream. It's very pretty but just too much of a winter reminder. I think this is the more optimistic shot.

Rita vs. the Thermostat

When we moved in, the house came equipped with this digital thermostat. Like so many modern day higher tech devises, it seemed to have so factory installed mind of its own and it had some very elaborate ideas as to our "comfort zones".  As previously mentioned, Bob and I are used to heating with wood and the thermostat in our hallway was decorative or perhaps marginally useful to tell you how close to freezing the interior was. But turning up or down was irrelavant.

The first week we owned the house, the furnace was enthusiastically kicking on every few minutes or so, in  a valiant attempt to acheive a balmy 70 degrees as mandated by a manufacturing default. This was nice for the propane company but not so nice for us. The upstairs is a good seven or eight degrees warmer than down, so we were baking when we slept. I, in effect, wasn't sleeping so much as nodding off and then walking up to sprint downstairs three or four times a night to turn the thermostat down and override the system. During an especially wakeful night, I actually read the manual and correctly re-programmed the blasted device. We are now chillin' in the 62 degree range.

Lonely Shrubbery

As we are dedicated gardeners, it is especially ironic that with all the many houses that Bob and I previewed before purchasing 965 Jeremy Swamp, not one of them had any gardens to speak of. This is probably fortunate as most "landscaping" is parochial at best, with a few Alberta Spruces, hostas or yews hugging the foundation in an embarrassing skirt of pine bark mulch. Not our cup of tea at all. But this property is remarkable in that there isn't even a single lilac or forsythia. (Bob refers to them a s "Mother's Day plants.) It truly is a tabula rasa, with many exotic mini-locales including a stream and a pond and a meadow and a few choice brown zones.
I did however, locate this one intentionally planted shrubbery, immediately to the left of the "equestrian facility". (Yes, we have one of those, too.) It appears to be a Chamaecyparis of some variety. It will have plenty of company this spring when we move many of our plants from our former address!

Mystery Site #1

Although this could be another "What is it?", I'm labeling this picture as Mystery Site #1:

No, it's not a Jules Olitski or an Ellsworth Kelly. This Black Hole is located on the bedroom ceiling, directly over our bed. Ostensibly, it's a skylight that suffered a minor crack, but believe me, it could be anything. I posit that it is a portal to another dimension, where there exists a parallel BobnRita Universe awaiting the night that we weightlessly ascend and begin new lives as famous successful artists with Rod Serling as the gallery director. In the meantime, there's too much snow to want to remove the insulation and explore. We'll check back on this one come spring.

A Timely Fix

So here's a handy tip if you suffer water pouring down a wall directly onto your electrical panel- run! This unexpected and potentially tragic situation presented itself due to those now infamous ice dams backing snow melt up under overflowing gutters. Diligent chipping and re-directing flow away from the wall stopped the active leak but water and electricity are never a good marriage.  A neighbor's father (and former CLP employee) reccommended constructing hoods out of plumber's putty and a strip of plastic. Bob did a nice job and the reults are even festive...

Although a careful analysis of this picture cause me to groan and my eyes to roll heavenward. We have a lot of work to do... just look at that wall above the box! Add it to the list!

Historical Notes: The One That Got Away

Here I am with nothing better to do than hang around at foreclosure sales. (At least the weather was nice... I'm wearing shorts). Anybody who knows anthing about us will recognize the legendary Stoddard Road property. Yes, we tried to buy this house (count em') three times. Some day I will share a longer version of this epic saga. Suffice it to say that this property had much in common with 965 Jeremy Swamp Road. They both have studio space, over four acres of usuable land, and houses that were veering into foreclosure and needed some serious work. Here's a shot of the back of the house- and the barn! That barn was wonderful: three floors and sited so nicely. The people who finally outbid us have apparently turned it into a house. I can't look.

Studio Space

Part of the trouble with having two artists in the family is the need for multiple studios and flexible spaces. (Thank goodness that little Jules has yet to decide that he's an artist too). This house appealed to us as it met our space requirements without being huge and there is a suitable outbuilding. The outbuilding, once emptied of a few orphaned things, will be Bob's studio.

My studio is temporarily in the house in what would be the living room. "Temporary" is probably a relative term. It could take a while to find sufficient time and money (the dynamic duo) to transform the carport into my permanent studio.

For the time being and minus a deer head or two, it's a great space. Although I think I'm gettting spoiled by the height of the ceiling...

Painting Techniques- A Critique

I pride myself on being open minded. This is especially helpful when assessing other people's decorating tastes. Take for example, the previous owner's artistic and enthusiastic paint application in the room we now refer to as "The Living Room". The entire floor was handled in such fashion. My only concern is his dedication to white; perhaps greater emotion may have been expressed had he employed a more diverse palette. Only a suggestion!

Bauhaus Chicken Coop- Historical Note

I can't take credit for that catchy sobriquet- that goes to our friend Elanah. Our house was, in fact a chicken coop in a previous incarnation and sometime around 1950 it was converted into a home. As Bob and I previously resided in a storage barn made into a house, it seems appropriate that the house we finally bought had been something else in a past life. If we ever move again, we will no doubt live in a former gas station or nuclear silo.

One of the many photos we took when we first viewed the house back in August. I think I dimly remember that green material in the picture was something referred to as "grass". Seems so long ago.

What Is It?

(Oh hell, it's nasty outside and I might as well put up another post. Soon enough, I shall become jaded and cease to blog. But this is a novelty and so much is happening. We've only been here three weeks and we've lived a life time of diasters!!)
So, What is it??

Yes, it does look like the sort of thing living in one of those neglected containers in the back of the refrigerator, but it is actually the carpet at the top of our stairs. The carpet which I initially thought was tan and a different carpet than the blue wall-to-wall in the master bedroom. At least we can spill, dribble, splatter and soil with impunity until we replace it. Could take years!

Househole Disaster #4

So I will not go into the upsetting and tedious details here, but we are switching propane companies in mid-stream. (Take my word: comparison shop. These companies are entirely unregulated and it's like the Wild West when it comes to price.) Bob and I have always used wood to heat with oil as a backup so this whole propane thing is new to us. Our new (and almost a dollar a gallon cheaper) propane company sent two guys out in this most recent ice/snow event to set up the three (count 'em) new tanks. They needed to come in and check the pressure or something and I mentioned that from time to time, we smelled gas, which seemed to go away once the furnace kicked on. Here's the guts of the machine. (It has no soul):

It turns out that Baby is sick and needs some new part as it wasn't firing all burners, which accounts for the smell. So the men leave, saying they'll be back later with a brand new $300 part... hooray for money!!

Two hours later, we recieve a call from the company. Wrong part got delivered and the correct replacement is coming in tommorrow... we must manually turn the furnace off and on. This is to reduce the chance of us blowing ourselves to Kingdom Come as there is vagrant gas on the lose. (Need I add that my sister has only minutes before regaled me with a tale of a house errupting into a fireball because of a propane leak?) Now I ask what exactly we should do over night as it does get colder and we may want heat. Technician tells me, "You might wanna crank that heat up higher than usual and get the place really warm." That's great but who's paying for all that propane? Forget sleeping...

Guarding The Booty

Here's Jules doing a lovely job of guarding our many boxes.

We've now been at Jeremy Swamp three weeks and are continuosly confronting the age old dilemma: But where does it go? This is because the afore-mentioned third of our possessions (make that a half) are still in snow induced lock-down. The things that are here can't be placed until the other things arrive. Hence, we live out of boxes and we don't know where anything is. I suspect I have been wearing the same clothes for days.

Not Pretty Anymore

Let's face it: at the beginning of the winter, we can always console ourselves with the (barely accurate) cliche that fresh snow is "pretty".  I say, don't encourage it as there's more out there waiting to fall. Here's an image that looked magnificent from the dining room window of our interim house... that is until the power went off and we played Scrabble huddled under comforters and retreated to bed wearing hats and gloves.

Have I mentioned that we had to move twice? Oh thank heavens for good friends that have empty houses available to house the (almost) homeless! We thought our closing was to be back in October and gave notice that we were moving. Our landlady promptly located a new tenant and we were in a bit of a bind. Our friend Tina came through and graciously allowed us to park ourselves and all of our chereished belongings here.  However, what with the intemperate weather persisting, a good third of our possessions remain stranded in limbo.