My baby is 5!

Today is Little Bud's birthday. 

He is the nice one.  He always has a smile and being the youngest he doesn't expect much.  Though when he's mad, he'll tell you in a very high pitched screamy whine that makes your intestines knot up. Other than that he's my sweetie, schmoopsy, shmookum-ookums.  

Being the mom of  special needs kids means that I get to choose what they like.  So instead of making a transforming-monster-snake on a skateboard with gummy worms on it cake with black icing that pukes blood, I made Muno from Yo Gabba Gabba.  If you have no direct contact with people under the age of 6 then you may have no idea what I'm talking about.  This is Muno...(and Jack Black, Muno is the red one)

The Yo Gabba Gabba people sing songs like "Don't Bite Your Friends".  Good advice, sound, simple-you really can't argue with that logic.

So Little Bud got a Muno cake...

Happy Birthday Didda B-I love you!

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Priceless...

• Paint, $70.00
• Brushes, rollers, pan, $25.00
• Spackle, $20.00
• Trim for 4 doors, $80.00
• Trim for 3 windows, $70.00
• (faux) Mop board, $110.00
• Chair rail moulding, $60.00
• Crown moulding to fix broken pieces, $25.00

Mop board.  There is no such thing as 10" floor trim.  At least not at Lowes or Home Depot.  They do have 10" pine board and a plethera of small mouldings that can be married together to look like mop board.  And each and every piece will need to be cut with the mitre saw at a perfect angle which is different for each and every corner.  Oh joy.

I bought this wallpaper to accent the wall.  It is a lovely celery green, very soothing and calm.  Which is weird, 'cause I think I've said more swear words since framing it in this chair moulding then I have ever said in my life.  The "POSTS" in aforementioned post and beam construction are evident in the living room.  They would be evident in the kitchen also, but when I had a "professional" fix my kitchen he blocked in the posts so the room is smaller but there are no weird little angles.  Not that there is anything wrong with weird little angles, they add character and you get to mitre the moulding to fit around them.  Wheeeee!  It is especially fun when the room is so far from square that it makes you dizzy.  No angle is perfect and they had to be cut three, four, five times to fit.  Also the room is crooked.  The picture of this beam was taken straight on, I am not leaning.  This took me hours and hours and hours to finish.  Ironically I was listing aft when I was finished and at least then it looked straight.   

Oh and this lovely little angle?  Chimney.  Crooked, crooked chimney.  See the optical illusion that makes it looked like the wall is larger at the ceiling and tapers in as it goes down to the floor?  Yeah, no illusion there.  Though it is only apparent from this particular angle.  So don't stand right here if you come to visit. 

 

The most important lesson (I just spelled that leison-I've got those too) that I have learned is that~~~

"There is no such thing as perfect in an old house.  If you can't make it fit, then do the best you can and just SPACKLE THE GAP."

Smiles,

Lisa

Look up...

Oh my ceiling.  My lovely ceiling.  It is one of the reasons I bought this house.  My tin ceiling.  And the light fixture.  It is probably brass, but may not be, I'm not sure.  It is nothing special, probably a standard fixture in 1900, but I do adore it. 

Even more so now that it is cleaned up and repainted in satin black and against the clean white of a freshly painted ceiling. 

What do you think? 

Tommorow, the tale of the mitre saw, corners, molding and where most of my money went....

Smiles,

Lisa

From the bottom up...

Before we start looking at my floor, let's talk style. 

-crickets--chirp--chirp--chirping---

Well I HAVE style, it's just really hard to define.  The house is 110 years old.  We have to respect that.  You just can't put skinny jeans on Grandmother and have it be ok.  So we have to have some Victorian influence.  Then there has to be the whole country aspect.  I really like the romantic country look, so we'll throw some of that in too.  Shabby chic, just a pinch.  Oh, oh and Rustic French Country--with distressed black paint and fleur de lis, toile and damask patterns?  Yup, need that too.  And lastly I just think the new retro patterns are great.  Big bold prints in bright contemporary colors.  How the heck will I make that work?  Oh, ye of little faith.  Keep watching. 

So on to Step 3.  The floor.  Ick.  In the pictures it looks like hardwood.  It is not.  It is...it is LINOLEUM.  I KNOW!  It is linoleum made to look like wood.  Really.  Wow.  It was probably installed between 1956 when the last owners moved in and 1970.  It is cracked and horrible and no there is not hardwood beneath it.  There is plain old pine rough cut floor boards covered with something black and sticky and then a layer or gross plywood and then the linoleum. 

So, what to do?  In additon to the heinous floor's appearance, it is wonky.  Post and beam construction over 110 years tends to go wonky.  You can place a marble at one end of the room and it will quickly roll to the other in a roller coastery kind of way.   So we COULD rip up the floor, but we're not going to.  We are going to lay a plywood sub-sub-sub floor to even out the speed bumps and go from there.  I know all you purists out there are gagging on your Craftsman levels.  But really I'm looking for pretty, not function.  Don't judge me. 

So here is the new sub floor all put down.  And oh look Fred Flintsone brought Frankentube back into the room. It started to rain and good gracious we don't want our prehistoric television to get wet. 

Then I went shopping.  Husband bought the plywood, so I don't have to take that out of my budget.  I found laminate flooring at Lumber Liquidators for $.49 a square foot.  So for the entire room with the padding it was $180.00.  Awesome.  I know, I know I would rather have real wood too, but remember the budget people.  So to sum it up, I replaced the fake wood flooring with ummmm, fake wood flooring.  But just look at it!  So shiny and new and somewhat level, what more could a girl ask for! 

Frankentube is helping cut. 

So tommorow I will work on the ceilings and the trim.  I probably won't be back here until Monday, but there should be some major progress to see then!

Oh and our tally so far is:

• 
  
  Walls, $100.00
• 
  
  Flooring, $180.00
• 
  
  Snapple, $4.99

Which means I have $715.01 left.  Ok Pat, I'll take the ceramic dalmation for $40.00. 

Smiles,

Lisa

If These Walls Could Talk...

They'd be screamin'.  Really they would.  The walls are plaster and lathe.  I know this becuase I have brutally  torn the wallpaper from them about five times since we've lived here. 

It was around this picture that Husband came home and said swear words.  He paced and figured and took out a measuring tape and measured and ran his hands through his hair and said things like, "When you tear one thing down in an old house you are just uncovering ten more things that need to be fixed."  He sighed and said we might as well tear the walls out, insulate (see that blank spot where the mopboard used to be?  No insulation in the living room) and rerun the wiring.  Now remember yesterday.  I absconded with the $1,000.00 we got back on our tax return for this project.  I have already spent $75.00 on wall liner and $10.00 on spackle to fix the wall.  So really, $915.00 now.  I just watched him quietly until he threw up his hands and said, "I don't care, do whatever you want.  You will anyway."  See that's why we're still married.  So I did and now the walls look like this. 

Yes, I started wallpapering.  If you are like some snarky teenager who asks questions like, "What's with the random wallpaper?"  Well, you'll just have to wait to find out.  Brat. 

Come back tommorow to see what happened next!  It will be a HUGE transformation!

Now here are some answers to questions from your comments:  Char, the floor?  Not hardwood, we'll talk about that later.  The mopboards? All different pieces from various projects and floor add ons--has to go.  The pretty window molding, fake wood put on when I had the windows replaced, has to go.  The light fixture?  Don't worry Lily, she'll be back.  Marigold, I loved the wallpaper too, but it was too dark and the walls are crooked and stripes just don't work in this room--had to go.  Wendy, the ship picture is a family heirloom of my husbands.  I hung it there temporarily so it wouldn't get broken and that was the only nail available.  Ok, it was 7 years ago.  I told you I stopped looking at this room.  Anyway, the ship has sailed! 

Smiles,

Lisa

This &*(^% Old House...

When I am down and out, feeling low, when tears are in my eyes.....I decorate.  And listen to sad music.  Thanks Art and Paul (just doesn't have the same ring does it?) 

So anyway, I have lived in this house for the longest that I have ever lived in one house in my entire life.  Eleven whole, solid years.  When I went looking for a house all those years ago I wanted an old house to fix up.  Oh, how I would plan and dream of renovating an old farm house-I would bake cookies and wear aprons and have garden parties. 

So it has been an act of love and kindess that has gone into the remaking of this little 110-year-old farm house.  Everything has gone perfectly and my projects are always under budget and it looks exactly like I want it to.

No, no, no none of that is true.  My dreams of Laura Ashley wallpaper and Rachel Ashwell inspired vignettes were kicked over, trampled on, spit on and set on fire by failing septic tanks, falling down chimneys, dysfunctional water heaters, dry rot, drafty windows, insufficient insulation~~I really don't need to go on, though I could. 

So I did the best I could with wall paper and blinders.  This~~~~sigh~~~~ this is my living room.  I apologize in advance. 

Yeah, I know.  I hate it.  But life happens you know and after a while you just don't see it anymore.  Well I decided life is too short to be in a place that doesn't make you happy.  SO--here we go...

Step 1.  Clear everything out of the room.  Yikes.

Let's see what changes I can make with $1,000.00 and some, a little, a lot,  a freaking football stadium filled with faith. (Oh and lots of Raspberry Snapple)

Come back tommorow for Step 2.

Smiles,
Lisa

Violated...

Tonight this is the view from where I sit as I write this post. 

Over my dandelion littered lawn, past my pecking hens, under the old apple tree with the swing, down the little hill where the herbs are planted to where our first pig sty was, under another old apple tree, right by the bee hives and a bit beyond the huge tire holes where the fire truck got stuck when my husband had a brush fire without a permit, there is a field.  Beyond the field is woods and trees and poison ivy.  Through the woods is a pond.  Not a big one, maybe 12 acres and it's kind of swampy, but a pond nonetheless.  I love this piece of land.  I own it.  I can open up my back door and take off running and not hit anything or anyone else's land until my breath burns in my chest.  It's not perfect.  I'm closer to the highway (we say interstate in Maine, but I'm not sure if everyone does that?)  then I'd like to be and can hear it and I wish I couldn't.  But other than that I am happy here. 

No one bothers me.  I have one neighbor on one side and I'm sure they talk about the rampant pigs and the goats being chased by dump trucks and they've had to call me to rescue an adolescent rooster from their shrubbery, but things are generally pretty calm here. 

This morning something happened that sullied my funky little utopia.  I'm sure few people would think it a big deal,  though I did call law enforcement.  This morning someone's dog came onto my piece of land and while I put together breakfast for my children he chased and killed three of my chickens.  Now my chickens don't have names and we don't knit sweaters for them.  But we do keep their house clean, feed them good food, water them daily and let them have free range of the entire property.  In turn they eat bugs and give us eggs to eat and to sell.  I love having them.  Sometimes foxes and other predators come into the yard and once in a while we lose chickens to them.  This makes me angry and I hate it, but I know the foxes are eating the chickens and taking them back to their babies and although I don't want them to do it and do everything to avoid that happening, it is somehow easier to take then having a domesticated animal kill for pleasure and leave the birds broken and wasted, just to move on to the next one. 

I caught him in the act of chasing down a fourth bird and was able to run him off.  As soon as I went inside, he came back and grabbed another.  If I'd had a gun, I would have shot him, but I was able to kick him and save the chicken.  The owner was notifed by police where her dog was and she came to my house mouthing her apologies even as she drove down my driveway.   She offered to compensate me for the birds but I refused.   All I asked for is that this doesn't happen again.  I know that she can't really promise that, even though she did. 

I just feel smaller somehow from this.  Should I cage my chickens?  Should I have them at all?  Should I have demanded more from the owner?  Should I have demanded more from the police?  

As I dug three tiny little graves, I felt such a sense of waste and sadness at the futility of it all.  I don't have the time or energy to figure out the bigger picture and I really don't have time to get angry.  I'm just sad. 

Lisa

Communing With My Inner Hippy...

The Teenager at Age 8

I never got to attend a Dead concert but  I DID see the Jerry Garcia Band in concert.  I have never worn a pair of Birkenstocks, though I own a hemp braclet, a toe ring and could probably dig a prairie skirt out of my closet if I felt the need.  I prefer herbal tea to any other herbal stimulant.  I like the smell of patchouli but not on my skin.  I am not a fan of dreadlocks, they look stinky to me.  I do go barefoot in the summer and don't mind getting dirty.  I have never owned a Volkswagen, but I did have a Subaru in the early 90's.  I recycle, I compost and do my best not to waste anything. 

                                       

I grow my own herbs and vegetables but I am not 100 percent organic and am not a vegan or vegetarian by anyone's imagination.  

I raise my own chickens for eggs and meat.

                                       

I hang out with goats.

                                        

I believe in love.  I also believe in personal responsibility and being rewarded with the fruits of your labor for a hard day's work.  I believe in charity but I believe that everyone needs to do their share. 

Is there such thing as a sort of conservative, kind of liberal, tree hugging, meat eating, capitalist, pro-choice, polyester wearing, hippy who sews her own clothes? 

Peace,

Lisa

Done...

I know!  A project that I started and ultimately finished.  It is a simple twin-size patchwork quilt and I started it a year ago.  Last night, I finished it.  Holy crap. 

Why did it take me a year to finish?  Because I HAND quilted every freaking three inch square, by HAND, WITH--MY--HANDS, and a needle of course. 

Doesn't that seem like a lot of work for a blanket?....

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Delusional...

So today is the 157th day of Dottie's pregnancy.  For my goatie friends, you know what that means.  For everyone else, well that means that there ain't gonna' be no babies. 

She seems pretty torn up about it. 

So what have I learned?  Well, I have learned that you should not give "pregnant" goats extra feed because they're expecting.  This just makes them fat and tricks you into thinking that they are going to have babies.  Oh and don't count your baby goats before they are born.  They should make some sort of saying that people could say all the time when they make plans for something before they know exactly what is going to happen with the possibility of being disappointed by the plan not working out.  Or I guess you could just say that, seems long and confusing though. 

Anywho...It's really sad that there won't be any little baby goat children on the farm this year, with all the jumping and cuteness.  Not even one little tiny goat child....

 

                                       

Or, maybe a tiny little goat child will come live here in hopes of being a big brawling buck and we won't have to leave the farm to procure more baby goat children.   

                                         

And maybe a sweet little doe friend of his will come too and maybe she will have eyes so blue that even Dottie will be impressed.

Ok, maybe not that last part.

Smiles from the farm!

Lisa