Lose the Singular

Wende asks: If you could, would you buy the house you grew up in?

I really wanted to post house pictures with this, but I couldn't find any...I really thought I had some. Oh, well.

Of the houses I lived in growing up, I can remember nine. That includes several rounds of military housing, which is usually uninspired but often well constructed and highly practical - some of them I would consider buying, were location no issue and if I could replace the vinyl siding.

The house in Guam had windows that could withstand a coconut flying at 100 mph, which is kind of engineer-cool but not terribly useful most places; it was also made of undisguised cinder blocks.

The house in Italy was completely uninsulated with 12' ceilings, required six keys to get into, had a driveway pitched at 25 degrees, a basement that flooded whenever there was more than a quarter inch of rainfall in a day, electrical wiring such that you had to turn out all the lights to make toast, an arsenic-laden well, and batch tank water heaters that supplied exactly six minutes worth of shower each. Also, it was located on a dirt road with a rotating pack of feral dogs and a constant pile of burning garbage at the end, and the landlord had extremely dubious connections and took the rent in cash. By local standards, this was a really, really, really, REALLY nice living situation. I love Italy, but it amuses me when Americans get all romantic about it.

When I was in high school, we lived in the East Bay in a massive, exquisite, meticulously maintained 80-year-old farmhouse, one of several bought up by the Navy when the small town where it was originally built was accidentally blown up during World War II. It was moved and repurposed for officer housing. I estimate it was approximately five times as much house as my parents could have afforded on the Bay Area civilian economy. I probably wouldn't buy it, but only because I doubt I'll ever want to own that much house.

I could see myself buying the house where my parents currently live, which they bought while I was in college, but only if I had enough leftover funds to rapidly fix everything weird about it, like:

• the DIY stairs with unequally-sized risers (yikes!)
• the heating vents on the ceiling (huh?)
• the dining room with hardwood floors, hardwood walls, hardwood ceiling, and a small window facing the heavily wooded back yard (I've considered buying a mining helmet so I can see my dinner)
• the still-too-abundant presence of the previous owner's favorite color (OSHA safety yellow)
• the most annoying bathroom ever constructed by human hands.

Also, I would need a guaranteed source of income so I wouldn't have to find employment in the Rust Belt.

Week X, Y, Z: The Truth - I DON'T FEEL LIKE IT Edition

No, I don't feel like it. So sue me.

Random Photo: De Cordova Museum Sculpture Park - Lincoln, MA

The last two weeks were taken up by an unexpected and all-consuming and excruciatingly detailed and mind-numbing work project. The latter part of this week is occupied by the arrival of a visiting dignitary*, and much of next by a pilgrimage (more on that later).

I'm tired.

Random Photo: Ogunquit, Maine

Everything I'd been planning to do in the next few weeks will get done over the next couple of months anyway, barring major and unforeseen interruptions. But I just don't feel like playing right now. And that's ok.

I started WT-ing by making a list of all the repairs I need to make, off the top of my head...when I got to the end of the second page, I decided I didn't feel like that, either.

Random Photo: Cloudgate, Millennium Park, Chicago

I'm going to bed with my seven-pound man-eating cat.

*My dad, actually, in town for a conference, but I think I'll try calling him that for a while.

Week 2: The Truth - NPR Junkie Edition

The Truth this week is that I did basically nothing, Cure-wise, until last night. Well, actually, I did a good amount of shopping - all necessary, but still stuff that should have been lower down the priority list at this particular point in time.

It finally occurred to me on Thursday that my resistance to working in the kitchen might have something to do with the pile of laundry in the bedroom. Then last night I found myself at home, the Easter Bunny having brought this:

a fairly major storm, which sent me home from work early and canceled dinner and church plans. So, I dealt with the laundry (it took an entire episode of Radio Lab), and, what do you know, breakthrough. (Incidentally, I seem to have acquired the only cat on earth with no interest in shedding all over piles of clean laundry. Small blessings; slightly makes up for the fact of having a brown sofa with a knap.)

The kitchen was in decent shape, but it did warrant some Curing, so I decided to give it the full duration of Car Talk this morning. I was on a roll at 10:00, so it got Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, as well, and then half of Sound Opinions. Today, it's pleasant and sunny.

So, this week's (eventually) Done, in chronological order:

• Bought: vacuum cleaner filters, bin for cat food, kitchen curtains, dish cloths, bathroom hand towels.
  


• Above mentioned bedroom (and head) straightening.


• Finally posted some before photos!
  


• Cleaned fridge, microwave, toaster oven, stove top, counters, dish drainer. Not as much work as it sounds.
  


• Cleaned crumbs out of silverware drawer (fortunately, found no pancakes).
  


• Minorly reconfigured a couple of oddball cabinets; found places for coffee maker, blender, and spare paper towels.
  

Box: No box. :-(

Budget Remaining: 46% (several largish items this week)

Highlights:

• Invigorating exchanges of comments with Alana over my rather sad living room shots, which gave me far too many (possibly) great ideas. Must stay focused, must not let living room take over *again*.
  


• Re-reading some of the Professor Dr. von Igelfeld stories that I recently scored on PaperbackSwap. Probably the most concise specimen of McCall Smith's absurdist talent.
  
  
• Receiving a stern admonition from a colleague in our Buffalo office not to send the blizzard their way.
  

Finally: to everyone with something to celebrate this weekend, a very happy Easter.

Bits and Photos

I confessed on the Chicago Cure Thread that I haven't been up to much this week. But it's not over yet, so I hold out hope. Stay tuned.In the meantime, a few bits:

1. There's been talk about hoarding at Alana's and Wende's, as well as a few places in the news (none of which I can find right now, naturally). For the record, here's what the Mayo Clinic has to say about it. I found it interesting all around, but this paragraph under "Risk Factors" caught my attention.

• Perfectionism. People with compulsive hoarding are often perfectionists. They worry about making the right decision about what to do with each possession — should they keep it or discard it? Trying to decide causes distress, so they avoid making a decision and simply keep everything.

2. Speaking of other people's blogs, I've been lazy about commenting both here and on flickr, but great job so far to everyone I've been following. Ditto for Wardrobe Therapy, for those playing.

I've got everyone I know of blogging the Cure over on the left - is there anybody else fabulous I should be watching?

3. Look! Photos!

The kitchen. At least the interesting part.


I rearranged the living room again. Best so far. What do you see for a coffee table? Shape, material, style?


Another shot. Hm, everything looks very close to the walls, doesn't it?


Finally got that cover on the couch! Should have done that ages ago.

Week 1: The Truth

Done:

• Dust, Sweep, Vacuum, Mop
  

• Flowers: One small bunch of daffodyls, which wilted before they fully opened.
  

• Removed: One sizable box of Goodwill stuff, including a stash of clothes that had been hiding out since Wardrobe Therapy. Also some trash and recyclables.
  


• Repair: patched one drywall hole.
  


• Repair: straightened all the switch plates and outlet covers. Hi, Dad.
  


• Repair: straightened tub overflow plate.
  


• Box: I actually resolved two boxes this week - but they were easy ones. Books and papers that should have gone to the office months ago. Still, they're not here anymore.
  

Budget Remaining: 95%

Highlights:

• Having my friends J & A (and baby T minus three weeks) over for dinner on Friday in an act of Cure-inversion.
  


• Lexi, the Drama Queen of Siam, getting her face stuck in an empty 3-ounce Ben & Jerry's carton (Cookie Dough, for the record).
  


• Finally getting the right size boots from Eddie Bauer - just in time to go outside without an overcoat.

(I also cooked at home and read before sleep and burned a scented candle - do I get advanced credit?)

Week One/Introduction/Before/Etc.

It's been great to see everyone's early Cure posts and planning. I do plan to post before shots, but first my schedule will have to line up with adequate lighting. I've changed some things since the last round and do have a few things planned for this one that might be interesting to look at. I also have a tripod now, so I should be able to get better shots. In the mean time, here's my plan:

• Follow the Deep Treatment plan, where not superfluous. That is, I don't need to revisit my choice of cleaning products, nor to buy another water filter. I do need to mop.
  
  
• Repairs. I've already confirmed that there aren't any big ones that need extensive planning or outside help, so I'll just deal with them each week, room by room.
  
  
• Side project: Curtains. I've already purchased rods for all four windows, have materials for making some of them, and have the others picked out. They should all be up by the end of this.
  
  
• Side project: Boxes. There are boxes in my spare room. I refuse to say that it's full of boxes (it's not! Really!). But it does contain boxes. Not boxes that were never unpacked from the move (though there might be a couple of those). But boxes. Some are empty. Some contain things that need to find a permanent home. Some I don't know how to describe. So: in addition to the Deep Treatment tasks, I will fully remedy one box per week.
  

The Rules:

• Put everything away.
  
  
• Only put things away in their permanent homes.
  
  
• Stick to the Cure Budget (which was chosen for 25% financial reasons and 75% to place a limit on the number of decisions that can be made Right Now). May be compromised in cases of extreme Furniture Karma.
  
  
• Report back here weekly.
  
  
• Tell the truth.
  

Time to Cure

Well, I think this snuck up on everybody, but it's time again for the Spring Cure. After a quick re-read of the book, my plan for this round is to adhere pretty closely to the Deep Treatment prescriptions (less the metaphysical stuff - I think once a year is enough for that part). I feel like I need a course of that kind of structure at the moment, plus it covers all the stuff I most need to get done just now. I know I won't be able to resist slipping in a few side projects, but those will have to be treated as dessert. I'll post pics and progress where applicable, and can't wait to see everyone else's work.

My Notional Library

I really needed some creative outlet this evening, and I loved the idea of CQ's library style tray from last week, so I just had to make my own. It's built around the Thomas O'Brien unit (a.k.a. Big Shelf) that I already own, and a couple of other pieces that came immediately to mind.

From top left:

Shelving: Thomas O'Brien for Target
Chair: First floor room of the Puffin Inn in Ogunquit, Maine

Art by Joan Theodore
Area Rug at Overstock.com
Throws from Linens n Things
Trace end table by Eurway

Tiffany Lamp sold by Grogan in 2004 for $115,000.

Calico cat found in my college roommate's apartment.

Stream of Kitchen Consciousness

The kitchen in (unstructured) review:

• When the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, you can't put dirty dishes into it. Unfortunately, this means the clean dishes have to be put away.
  


• My mother is one of those people who can cook a six-course meal and only dirty one spoon, and not get a drip of anything anywhere. I'm not. I'm 95% sure that I've accepted this.
  


• Hey, I've been looking for that!
  


• Floors. I really think I missed something about how to clean vinyl. I should go look that up.
  


• I need new dish cloths and towels and potholders.
  


• If you open it, close it; if you spill it, clean it up - do it now, and all that good stuff. Since I don't immediately see any elements of design or practice that need improving, it must come down to that.
  


• Curtains would be good...ok, Spring Cure.
  


• There's a perplexing quantity of crumbs in my silverware tray.
  


• Sam is looking at me.
  


• The recyclables are about to overtake the pantry. Or maybe they already did. I really need a better system for getting stuff out to the dumpsters. A chute like Wende's would be beyond awesome. Alas.
  


• Granola is not a decorative element.
  


• I love my kitchen. It's such an improvement over my last one. It has drawers.* It's bright.** The floor can be cleaned.*** It has white walls.**** It has a window and a gas range and room for more than one person to stand. I love my kitchen. I should be nice to it.

*In the last one, I had to stand my silverware in mugs.

**In the last one I actually mounted mirrors on the ceiling out of desperation.

***In the last one, the vinyl was torn and stained beyond reclamation.

****The last one had brown rustic print wallpaper, c. 1977. I've never met wallpaper I liked, but I reserve special animosity for wallpaper that's older than I am.

More Therapy - Housekeeping

The inimitable SCB is promoting more therapy - housekeeping this time. There's an interview, but I'm going to take a more stream-of-consciousness approach to this.

• At my grandmother's funeral, her sister-in-law (my great-aunt-by-marriage) related this story: when Aunt was a young newlywed, she spent a lot of time fretting over keeping the house, etc. Granny, who was older and a twice-married career woman with several children, advised, "If people come to your house to see your house, instead of to see you, than they don't deserve for you to care what they think."
  


• Of course, this is the same woman who, if her kids had left toys out when she came home from work, stomped all over them.
  


• I can't stand putting things away. Dishes, laundry, groceries, new purchases, etc., etc.
  


• I resist dry-cleaning (that is, dusting, vacuuming) less than wet cleaning (the bath-and-kitchen stuff).
  


• I don't feel resentment about housekeeping, presumably since I'm the only one in my house. If it's a mess, I made it. If I clean it up, it's really only for my benefit. This is good and bad.
  


• My mother was/is good at housekeeping, but never seemed to hold any particular attitude toward it. It isn't a moral issue. It isn't an obligation (though technically it is, of a sort, since it does have to be done by somebody). It's nothing to think or feel about, or to not think or not feel about, in any particular way. Largely, that's her personality type (which is different from mine in certain significant ways), but i know it feeds my pragmtism and general lack of sentimentality.
  
  
• My paper doesn't have a home right now. I wonder how that happened.
  


• I really need to take out the recycling. I usually need to take out the recycling. And the garbage. I need a small garbage can in my living room. I have a recycling basket there (for junk mail). It's full. And then some.
  


• A recycling anecdote: My freshman year in college, my roommate and I were both fasting certain meals during Lent. To avoid wasting our meal allowances, we cashed them in for bottled water. We were extremely well hydrated that spring, but we really needed to take out the recycling every other day to keep our room from being overtaken by plastic bottles. Needless to say...our room was overtaken by plastic bottles. It was dangerous.
  


• I like dusting. I dislike how much the big shelf shows dust.
  


• Routines are good. I used to have lots of routines that worked for me, routines that got my laundry done, dishes washed, bills paid and house cleaned, and kept me fed, exercized, socialized, and informed. Early 2004 was the beginning of the end of that - that's when I started my previous job, which, while not bad enough to mess up my whole life all by itself, did introduce some new "challenges" and a much longer commute. Add to that some personal and eventually medical issues and things dissolved to the point at which maintaining life started to take a lot of attention. In short, I lost my routines, and I haven't been able to find them again.
  


• A routine anecdote: Several years ago, when my routines were at the height of their powers, I habitually did laundry every other Tuesday evening. One week, I happened to have commitments after work on a Laundry Tuesday that would keep me away from home until quite late. All day long, I was fretting, "I won't be home until nearly ten...when am I going to do my laundry?" Mid-afternoon, it struck me: I could do my laundry on Wednesday! I think that's when I began to understand personal empowerment.
  


• Audiobooks have long been my housekeeping friend.
  


• What do I want from my housekeeping? I do want company-ready. I don't need that to mean spotless or dustless, or anything like that, but it does mean non-scary kitchen and bath and a minimum of miscellaneous junk, particularly on the floor. This is at least as much for me and my peace of mind as for any hypothetical company - though the freedom to open my home to others at will is important.
  


• Physical obstacles: I think I'm fine here, because I'm very conscious about this in the way I set up and fill my spaces. I'll keep my eyes open for opportunities to improve.
  


• Psychological: I'm very good at ignoring things I don't want to deal with. The problem is that I keep ignoring them past the point when I really should stop. And I'd rather be reading.
  


• Equipment: I think I'm good.

More Table Love

A an excessive portion of yesterday was spent messing with my internet connection (which I finally managed to fix while on hold with customer service). In the middle of the ordeal, I got sick of it and went out to run some errands. These included a stop at the antique store down the block, where I found this little guy:

And the close-up:

I love the subtle shaping and the non-spindly-ness. He's getting very cozy with the onion lamp - I'll have to keep an eye on those two.

Back To the House, or, The Post You Thought You'd Never See

Consistent with my usual failure to follow through, I never really posted final pictures of my living room. This is mainly because I was really dragging my feet about the finishing touches. Eventually it got to the point where I just had to give in and decorate for Christmas. I'm ready now, so...

For reference, the before shots are here. The floorplan is approximately this.

Facing the window, the right wall. The couch cover project
is still not done. It will be brown and red.


Left wall. The reclining bookshelf wants to be a Danish Modern
sideboard when it grows up.

And center. Remember the comfy gold chairs?

The star of the show, Mr. Greek-Nationalist Canadian Table.


The Big Shelf, supporting my primary obsession.
Where did I put my books before I owned this monster?



A relatively recent acquisition, next to my etiquette book collection.
He weighs considerably more than a real cat.


Carmella, the overexposed Guatemalan angel.



I looked for years before I found a creche that I liked that didn't cost
hundreds of dollars. Found this last year. They sort of have faces.


Ethiopian Triptych. Not purchased in Ethiopia, in case
there was any confusion. Never been there.

Rather than the end-of-AT housewarming, I had resolved to do some heavy-duty cocooning, and then entertain a bit later on in the year. Honestly, I haven't yet followed through on my grand-scale cocooning event. I'll try again for New Year's Day. I did manage to follow through on the party, though, which just took place. It was a small gathering of young ladies from church for a Christmas party. We had lots of good food and nice Christmas music and played games. I may have to write more about it in future, as it's got me thinking hard about hospitality and what it means - the latest part of an ongoing internal conversation.

And in case I don't get a later chance to say it, Merry Christmas (or other preferred festivity) to all you lovely, smart, fun ladies!

Freezing Fog Advisory

That's the forecast for tonight. I admit it's a new one to me. Speaking of forecasts, here's a preview of things to come:

Look look look look look look look look!!!

Edited - right photo this time.

Tada! Look who's here!

He's still getting settled in - his permanent home won't be in front of the big shelf - but he just wanted to say hi to everyone.

We're getting on splendidly so far.

Part of the packaging...

How to Know You've Been Curing Too Much

Last night, I dreamed about ironing.

Then, I dreamed about putting away the ironing board.

Speaking of color (not today, but lately):

Current score: Slow Drain, 4; Mella, 0.

Calling the landpersons tomorrow. Grrr.

(Most people would have done that several days ago, but in non-emergency situations, I like to try whatever I can think of to see what works. One of my college professors liked to say that chemical engineering (my field) is just the love child of math and plumbing. Perhaps I haven't been doing enough math.)

In happier news, the Law of Furniture Karma has acted in its own mysterious way, as predicted, and this handsome fella is on his way from Ottawa to my house. While the floor-to-ceiling MCM look leaves me pretty cold (the phrase fashion victim comes to mind not infrequently), I do believe that a Danish Modern table is a Joy Forever.

Alas, he won't make it in time for the final photo shoot this time around, but that's ok. The loveseat is kind of anxious about meeting him and still doesn't have a thing to wear. In the meantime, want another peak at the living room? Right. Here:

Kitchen Details

Back to the kitchen for some finishing touches and some of those little things Alana was talking about:

I found this clock at a thrift store on Saturday and thought it would jive with the Warhol Kitchen.

Factory cool, yes? Here it is in context:

Speaking of Warhol, Sam, Sam and Sam have a new friend...Sam!

To explain: I fell in love with Blue Sam and Green Sam at a shop in Maine last year, and brought them home with me. When I moved in here, I knew I wanted to put them in the dining corner, but really needed a third Sam. The best option I could find to get my hands on Red Sam was a 2-for-1 with Gold Sam thrown in. I didn't think I'd care for Gold Sam, so I planned to go forward with the vignette of three. But Gold Sam got under my skin, so now he's up too.

Come on, who could resist those eyes?

I do have one other piece of cat art in the kitchen, that you can just see on the fridge in the Gold Sam picture above.

My Sister the Blonde Artist did this when she was about 13 in Microsoft Paint. Yeah.

And, since we were talking clocks up at the top there, here's another peak at the living room.

The Final Lap

I guess we're beginning the descent now. So much done! So much still to do! So many flowers!

I'll spend the time on general cleaning and tidying and finishing up living room stuff. The couch cover project had to go on hold for a bit because my hands weren't cooperating this weekend (I have occasional bouts of mild arthritis related to a medical issue - nothing serious, but enough that I know when to take it easy). Better now, but I'm not going to have time to finish it up in the evenings. I don't care to sew in short bouts, and still have other things to do. It's one thing I really wish I could get done, though - and the couch is looking really sad the way it is. Soon, though.

In the meantime, do you want a sneak preview of the living room? Of course you do. Here:

Where Ikea gets its inspiration.

Presenting, the namesake:

Never noticed this before, don't know how old it is. It doesn't exactly stir my soul, but whatever, I'll take my 15 minutes. And since my real name couldn't be remotely construed to be Scandinavian, it's probably the best I'm going to get.

Belated Bathroom

Thought I might as well post the finally straightened out bathroom (vanity portion). Yet again, nothing special, but I'm glad I was given the motivation to straighten it out.

Here it was a few weeks back in just-moving-in state.

And here it is now, largely courtesy of BB&B next to my office.

Now if only I can figure out a way to stop splashing water everywhere.