The Fixer Upper House and Garden

Let Their Be Light

2008-10-02T13:54:56-07:00

There is nothing wrong with a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. The light is adequate and the affect is timely, given the state of our nation's economy. But the bare bulb gets tiresome, which is why I purchased light fixtures recently: three exterior sconces and two kitchen pendants. I still have a half-dozen fixtures to go, but this was a good start.

As you might expect if you've ever read this blog before, I shopped around a lot. And I have a suggestion for anyone looking for a niche in the retail industry: open up a mid-price lighting store. Most of what's available at the big-box stores looks, costs and IS horrendously cheap, while the

fixtures at specialty lighting stores are mind-numbingly expensive. The fixtures at Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware look lovely on paper, but up close---in my opinion--they're indistinguishable from what you'd find at Target or IKEA.

I did have good luck at two catalog retailers: Schoolhouse Electric and Rejuvenation, both of which offer period-reproduction light fixtures at a reasonable cost and with many different options for sizes, shapes and colors. It is too bad these retailers don't have real stores (at least they don't in my market), because it's always better to see and touch the real thing. But since I could not find a light fixture that I liked in any of the dozen stores that visited, I took the plunge and ordered online. Here's what I got from Schoolhouse Electric for the kitchen island:

After I placed the order and before these fixtures arrived, I lost a lot of sleep, because these had to be custom-made and are not returnable (you can return stock items, however). Here's another view:

Plus, Husband--who is 8 inches taller than me---did not want the pendants to hang right in front of his face or my face (which is why we had them custom-made to 30 inches). I fretted over everything--that the fixtures would be too short or too long, that the shades would be too big or too small, or too white or not white enough. The good news is that I love them!

The exterior fixtures were also challenging to find, because they had to be UL listed. A lot of exterior lighting is actually "porch" lighting--ie the fixtures cannot be exposed to wind, rain and snow, all of which we get a lot of around here! So my pickings were slim, given that I wanted:

1920s-era reproduction fixtures
a reasonable price of under $200 per fixture
UL listing
opaque shades because I don't like to look at bare bulbs through glass shades
opaque shades with some sort of detail to distinguish them from the white stucco wall on which they are attached.

That is a tall order....and rejuvenation.com delivered in spades:

When I first saw these in the Rejuvenation catalog, I worried that the black etching on the opaque shades looked a little too webby/Tim Burtonesque/cartoonish. But I went ahead and ordered them because I felt plain white shades would get lost against the white stucco, and I knew I could exchange them if they didn't work out. The end result, in my opinion, is magnificent!

Lazy Ladies

2008-08-14T16:28:42-07:00

When the girls were little I used to feel like I was choking in these last supposedly lazy days of summer. Now that they are older and require less "physical" maintenance, I am loving (almost) every moment out of our time together...especially now that M is home from camp! With no garden to care for and barely any grass to mow, we have lots of time to play. Here's what my gang was doing this evening while I was making dinner (and blogging):

This is what they were watching. Some day we'll get a 42-inch TV for the built-in cabinet.

Milo was so excited when we picked M up after 4 weeks of camp

Fish Gone Fishin'

2008-08-04T10:21:46-07:00

I didn't think I had the capacity to care for another living thing when my youngest daughter brought home an aging betta fish last year. I was managing three kids, two dogs, one husband, freelance-work and the renovation of our house. Plus, we already had a betta fish, "Rainy," who ate so slowly we had to feed him one morsel at a time.

So I was peeved when our neighbor outgrew her fish phase and gave "Bob" to my second-grader: Like I needed another dependent! Now instead of taking one minute to feed the fish every day, feeding time would take me two minutes! Cleaning time would take me four! Unlike Rainy, who is as elegant as a red silk scarf, Bob was very ugly. His blue scales were covered with grey speckles and his mouth turned up like a catfish. The only thing I did like about Bob, at first, was that he was so old I figured he'd die real soon.

That was a year ago, and Bob turned out to be a very easy charge. He swam eagerly whenever anyone looked into his bowl. He ate quickly and with greed. He bumped against the glass to fight with Rainy in the next bowl over. And he didn't seem bothered when, one day a month ago, he no longer had a tail.

We were not sure how he lost his tail; was it a disease? Was it age-related? Did the tail get caught on a rock when I was cleaning the bowl? However it happened, being tail-less didn't slow Bob down at first. He swam wobbly, and maybe he was less eager to butt up against the glass, but he still came to the surface when one of us was standing by his bowl, and he still ate his nuggets before they started sinking.

I thought he might live on indefinately without a tail, or possibly even grow a new one, so I was surprised on Saturday morning to find him floating in his bowl (that's him in the photo above, in the bowl on the right). Unlike previous ailing fish-pets, Bob didn't gasp miserably for days before dying. I can't say I was sad to see him gone, nor was I relieved to have one less dependent. Bob had been easy, and he'd had a good, long life. Children and mothers took care of him (not counting the tail thing, if it was my fault). He shared a counter with hermit crabs in his last home, and had Rainy as a step-brother-fish in our old, borrowed and new kitchens. And whereas a lot of dead fish get flushed down toilets, Bob had a real funeral in the woods near our house. The kids dressed in black playclothes, sang melancholy "church songs," and buried him on a piece of bark beneath a headstone made of rock.

May Bob rest in peace.

C and T prepared a funeral procession for "Bob" with our neighbors, who owned the fish first and figure he was about five years old. M, my oldest child and a veteran of many previous fish funerals, is away at camp.

Dog Days of Summer

2008-08-02T09:24:18-07:00

Is there anything happier than a Lab in water? I took our Labrador retriever for a walk this morning. I wasn't intending to take her for a swim, but when we passed the access road to the beach, she kept looking back at me and nodding her head toward the lake. I swear, she was smiling! It's very hard to resist a smiling dog, especially one that is so loyal and who gives such pleasure.

I took these photos while standing on a boulder at the water's edge. Allie tried to follow me onto the rocks, but she's afraid of heights:

A moment later, she was in for a swim:

Good Morning, Sunshine

2008-07-31T04:47:27-07:00

Despite early wisps of clouds, my town was treated to a spectacular sunrise on Thursday morning. Here's a view from the beach near my home, at 5:50 a.m.

Stuff

2008-07-30T21:27:44-07:00

Getting Rid Of Stuff has been a major theme for me these past two years. After a lifetime of being an accumulator, I now love throwing things away. Today I threw away a scratched Teflon skillet, thus liberating the pots-and-pans drawer (as well as my family ) from a potentially poisonous cooking utensil. I also gave away our cream-colored dining room rug, which I once loved but whose color I always regretted, especially after Milo used it as a poop mat when we were on vacation recently. I gave the rug to a man who came to haul away the bricks from the front yard. I gave it to him on one condition: That he must absolutely clean the rug before presenting it to his wife. I'll never know if he does this, but I tried.

Here's another thing I gave away today: a ton of bricks and bluestone shards. Well maybe not a ton. I'm not good at judging things like tons. It seemed like a ton to me. But the thing that really puts today on the anti-clutter radar is that at long last, I got rid of the ugly evergreens out front. Except for a few gnarly juniper stumps, the front yard is as naked as new construction.

Ahhhhh.......

For a progression of photos of the front of my house, click below

This is what the front looked like when we bought the house 2 years ago. The junipers were overgrown, the front steps were crumbling and the black trim made the house look goth (as observed by M, who is 13 and knows some goth-ish kids).

On a snowy day:

June '07:

November '07

July 08

mid july 08

Man Working

2008-07-28T10:45:57-07:00

Death To The Evergreens! Armed with a Sawzall, Husband decimated the ugly shrubs that have been pricking passersby for some 40 years. We're waiting till September to do any serious planting, but it will be nice to be rid of these bushes.

Knock, Knock

2008-07-24T13:32:44-07:00

When we moved into The Fixer Upper House a year and a half ago, I got a note that went something like this: "Until you get a proper mailbox, the United States Postal Service will no longer deliver mail to this address."

This unwelcome letter made me gloomy, because I had to pick up our mail at the post office until I replaced the 2-inch mail slot next to the front door with a mail box big enough to handle today's volume of junk mail. I knew it would take months...and months to find a mailbox that met my standards.

I had a vague idea about those standards: circa 1920s, wall-mount, brass with a brownish patina to go with the front door's 100-year-old lock and handle. And I knew I

didn't want art deco or arts & craft. Foreshadowing the level of effort I would put into finding other house fixtures, I searched ebay and craigslist; googled "mailboxes circa 1920;" looked through dozens of catalogs and magazines; and shopped malls, home-design stores, antique stores and flea markets. But I couldn't find the mailbox of my dreams.

Fortunately, about a year ago I got on good terms with Glen, my mail carrier. I think he felt sorry for me because the house had turned into a construction site. Either that, or he felt sorry that I had to live with a barking dog. Either way, Glen said he'd just put the mail on the front stoop unless it was raining or snowing, in which case he'd just hang onto it until it stopped raining or snowing. It rained and snowed a lot, but this arrangement was OK with me because we read only 5% of the mail that's addressed to us.

All along, Husband told me to just buy a plain mailbox for the time being. And all along, I held out for the perfect match. Until now. I'm tired of shopping and fussing over my house. I want to live like a normal person, and not like a buyer for the perfect life. I want to get a Visa bill that doesn't make me gasp and fall head first into the pile of papers on my soapstone desktop. I want to stop the madness!

And so. ... and so. Yesterday I ordered a plain mailbox from Restoration Hardware. It's a simple upright box, rather Amish-looking, brownish brass that I think is similar in color to the lock and handle on my front door.

It's on back-order, of course. I hope Glen will spot me for a few more weeks.

Men Working II

2008-07-21T15:36:03-07:00

It was one of those days you want to bottle and sell: 80, sunny, breezy enough that the bugs don't get you. At the beach, the sand was warm and the lake was wavy. The kids swam and the dog frolicked. And at home, the Italians were able to just about finish the stoop, despite a brief storm this morning. I'm going to miss those guys! Here's a pic:.

And here are some more photos:

earlier in the day:

Men At Work!

2008-07-17T14:05:14-07:00

I have no idea how I survived the mayhem of the past year, when we ripped the back off our house, gutted the interior and began the laborious job of putting it back together. Never a quiet moment; never an empty in-box on the cell phone; never a to-do list with fewer than 20 things on it. I actually loved the process but when the bulk of it was over and we moved back into the house....I wanted it to be over. As in complete. Finished. See ya later! The End.

This week has been like old times, with a parade of dented vans and pick-up trucks lining the street in front of my house. We returned from the north woods on Saturday with tan children, nervous dogs and four duffle bags filled with dirty laundry. When C and M brought

the bags downstairs to get the laundry going, their bare feet sloshed and sunk into the play-room carpeting: a crack in the air conditioner unit caused a leak that saturated the w-to-w carpet.

The brand-new w-to-w carpet.

So Disaster Relief Services arrived on Sunday with massive fans and dehumidifiers. Along with GC and HVAC guy, they've been in and out all week seeing to things. Meanwhile, the Italian stoneworkers are back working on the front steps, which also required the services of two carpenters. And I'm bidding out the landscaping and fretting over what to plant on the side of the house in order to screen the direct view we have into our next-door neighbor's kitchen. Ah, seems like old times.