With so many big projects to do, the details sometimes have to wait a while.

That just makes it even more exciting when they finally get done.

Lights! On all three entrances!

Such luxury! I can't wait til it gets dark tonight so I can bask in their glow.

These fixtures took me way too long to find. I saw plenty I liked, but they cost much more than I wanted to spend. I finally ended up at Arcadian Lighting. Their prices were by far the lowest I found, and so far the quality of the fixtures seems very good. And I think our house looks pretty happy with itself, don't you?

(Note to self: Trim that giant bush next to the stairs.)

I posted the other day what's to the left when you walk in our house.

(photo by Dagny)

Here's what's to the right.

The door on the left is a coat closet. The door on the right leads to our craft room. Rather than leave the walls bare, I decided to create a little nook to play in.

On one side, there's a geoboard wall, two geoboards wide and seven tall. Some of the boards have a square pattern of pegs and some a circular.

It was inspired by the geoboard wall at a local children's museum, where Rowan and I spent hours and hours stretching elastics while Dagny explored.

On the other side is a giant magnetic chalkboard.

I had to apply layer after layer of the magnetic paint to get even the lightest of magnets to stick, but the board has been in use for years, so I'd say it was worth it.

The cans, which are quart-sized paint cans covered in patterned paper, contain chalk, elastics, and magnets.

Oh, and the answer to my question? (This time, anyway...)

Only took him about 2 minutes to notice it. He's a keeper.

I spent a few hours gluing on Saturday

and Jon spent a few hours grouting today.

Our takeaway? The human body does not enjoy kneeling on slate for hours at a time, knee-pads or no knee-pads.

Every once in a while, it's ok to buy something you know you'll probably think is weird in a few years.

I was looking at some pictures Dagny recently took of our kitchen and ended up staring at this one for quite a while.


This is what you see when you first come into our house. This is what Jon and I saw the first day we ever came into our house.

Sort of.

The floor's the same. For whatever reason, the second I saw it I knew this was our house. (I had a similar experience when I met Jon. The first thing I saw when he walked in the room was a bandage on his thumb - he had sliced it open with a box cutter at the grocery store where he worked - and I had this instant feeling of recognition: Oh, there he is - mine.) So the floor's the same, although it's been rearranged a bit and cleaned and patched up and sealed. But here's what's different:

The windows. When we first moved in there were the kind of windows that crank out. They didn't work very well, and some handles were missing, and even when they were open it didn't feel to me like the windows were open.

The walls. I can't actually remember what was on the walls, but it had to have been wallpaper. There was wallpaper all over this house. Layers and layers of it. (Thanks again, Drew.)

The pass-through window to the kitchen. That was much smaller and higher, and the counter didn't jut out into this part of the room at all.

The counter. That was white tile. I use the term white loosely. People advised us to live with it for a while, but I just couldn't. And when we pulled it up and saw maggots living under it we knew that was a good decision. Yes, we lived with a plywood counter for years after that, but it was a clean plywood counter.

The drawers/window seat. There were no cabinets/drawers/window seats in this area. The old owners had a little round table with chairs. I imagined a drawer for each of us to store our mittens topped by a comfy place to sit and put on our shoes. Jon installed the drawers and pulled up the floor under them, knowing we'd need the tiles in another area of the kitchen. Then he and I made the seat.

The light fixture. Was there a light fixture here? I think so. Maybe. Can't remember.

The sink. That was metal and stained. Jon wasn't sure about a soapstone one, but I loved the idea of a sink that would outlive us.

The stove. This stove is the reason we lived with plywood counters for so long. A wise financial decision? Maybe, maybe not. I'll let you know in twenty years, when I see if it's still going strong. But after 12 years I can say I have no complaints. Love my stove.

The faucet. On the old counter the faucet was in the usual place - back center. When we put the new one in we installed it on the side so kids would be able to reach the handle themselves if they wanted to. This is still one of my favorite design decisions.

The doorway to the left of the stove, which leads into the dining room (which used to be a den, but that's another story). That was a wall. There was a doorway to the right of the stove. We realized if we moved it we would have more useful and better-flowing space. Jon closed up the wall, opened up the new door, and used that tile he had saved from under the window seat to patch up the floor.

The soffit. See how it's plain - just painted? Picture, if you can, a faux roof of sorts, made of rectangular pieces of slate. All the way around the kitchen. Picture my dad asking me very earnestly if I was SURE I wanted to take it down? Wasn't it kind of neat? Um, no, it was not.

The lessons here?

1) That part of our minds that looks past the ugly and sees the possibilities is some kind of magic.

2) Don't be surprised that it takes a really long time to re-do a big old house. This is a small part of one room, and it has taken a huge amount of work.

3) Take before photos. Having not one before photo is just plain sad.

4) Remember to tell the one you love that you're very impressed with all the things he's learned how to do, and grateful he was willing to do them. Maybe publicly, on a blog.

You'll be relieved to hear, a nice man came and fixed my oven today.

In our family we credit good genetics for all sorts of things. For the affection for grammar, the appreciation for well-cut clothing, the love of notebooks, and the ability to spot a quality antique we thank the MacMahon side of the family. GrammaDonna's genes shone through when Dagny hit an estate sale this weekend. Knowing I had my eye out for a two-level nightstand, she was excited to find a set of two mahogany Henredon tables. Ever the bargain hunter, she waited til the end of the day and got them for half price - $25 for the pair.



There's a little ribbon in one of the drawers with a name on it - Collette Griffin. The previous owner of my tables? Did her mom or grandmother pass on an eye for finishes and hardware and construction? A desire to open things up and see how the drawer slides? To research makers and production dates? Maybe not. Luckily Dagny's Gramma did, so I get to adopt this little bit of Collette's history, and have just the spot to tuck my book at night.

When we moved into our house, Dagny was 7 and Rowan was 3. As I walked through the house the first day, I knew it was perfect for us at that time, but I also had an imaginary distant future in mind. A future in which our house could adapt to the kids' getting older and bigger and needing more space, with room for us all for as long as we each wanted to live here.

Now here we are. The distant future. The year 2000. (ok, if you don't know Flight of the Conchords you won't think that's funny. But I bet Rowan laughed.) And recently we've made some changes that I imagined that first day.

Rowan, whose perfect-for-a-three-year-old room was decidedly not perfect for a 13 year old, has moved into a much bigger room, freshly painted and equipped with a bed that belonged to her great-great grandmother.

Dagny has moved to the third floor, where she has both a bedroom and a living room. Rowan, Andrew, and I painted her bedroom for her as a surprise while she was away in February, and she and Andrew painted her living room a couple of weeks ago.



You can just barely see in this picture that on the wall to the left of the windows a bunch of dates are written, marking Dagny and Rowan's growth over the past ten years. Dagny carefully recorded and rewrote them when she painted, which I think was awfully nice of her considering it's a record of Rowan overtaking her in height.

Some people want their kids to move out when they turn 18. Me, I'm still imagining a distant future that includes a family growing together and a house that adapts to accommodate us all for as long as we each want to live here.

Our room is on Modish!

This peach tree was old when we moved to our house 9 years ago. Every year we're pleasantly surprised to see it load up with peaches.



After we bought the house, but before we'd come to know every nook and cranny, I said the only thing I'd add would be fruit trees. Winter ended, blooms started appearing, and suddenly I could see we had a pear, a peach, a crab apple, and two cherry trees. None were in the greatest shape. They hadn't been tended and had all lived long lives already. But, man, the peaches from that tree are unbelievable. Not grocery store pretty, sometimes munched on by worms, but so good. My favorite thing to do is to get the one from the very top of the tree, the one that feels hot to my hand. When I eat that peach, I taste sunshine.

It's because of this tree that I learned to can. One peach tree grows a LOT of peaches. In the next couple of weeks we'll be picking and I'll be listening for jars to pop. Oh, and making peach upside down cakes, some to eat and some to freeze. There's nothing like eating sunshine when it's cold outside.

We've added quite a few trees in the past nine years - peaches, apples, mulberries, pears, plums, and almonds - gotten our blueberry patch established, and next year we'll be adding strawberries. But I doubt anything will ever taste better than the first peach I ate off this old tree.

Today we made a dent in this project:


and in this one:


My bed is going to feel very good tonight.

A really long time ago this picture was on my blog. Remember?



Here's what the table looks like now:



(Well, actually it's a bit messier than that now, but that's what it looked like this morning.)

While we were working on the craft room (I seem to have settled into that name...) I came across another table at the architectural salvage store we like to go to. I didn't get any before pictures of it, but it was in a bit better shape than the first one. My mom and I refinished it too, and here' s how it came out:



This table has a little plaque on it that says it was property of Brown University. One of my favorite things about it is the graffiti in the drawers. (Is that weird?)




I wonder what 'Rotten ole Tom Brady', class of '51, is up to these days.

The craft room is coming together, evolving as we begin to use it. We still have some molding to hang and paint, and a bit of organizing to do, but already there's been lots of creating.

I didn't get pictures of everything, but here are some bits and pieces. Dagny and Andrew were working while I took pictures, and they were hot and sweaty and not feeling photogenic. There's also still a pile of paint and tools on the floor, not looking very pretty. I'll get some pictures of the rest another day, including the two tables my mom and I refinished.










The illustrations my mom gave us are perfect. We love them.



We ended up using seven out of the twelve, all along one wall. We don't have enough wall space for the rest, so we'll probably rotate them depending on the season.

This is my favorite.

Tables done, blueberry bushes moved, Rue and Jon pooped.

We have been so busy and getting so much done and I haven't taken any pictures to prove it. I keep thinking about it, but never at the right moment.

My mom and I are almost done refinishing the two tables for the studio/office/gunroom/atelier. We stripped them, a messy, sting-y project, and we've done two coats of poly. We'll do the final coat tomorrow. Today she gave us some very pretty illustrations to hang in that room, which I'm excited about.

We've got the new garden ready for transplanting our 17 blueberry bushes. I think I'll end up planting in the rain, based on the forecast for the next week. I'll get wet, but the happiest plants I have are the ones I've planted in the rain, so that's good.

Jon and I have been banished to our bedroom because Dagny and Andrew are filming some top-secret footage in the rest of the house. Jon is snoring loudly beside me. I'm going to read The Sisters Grimm, but forgive me, Rowan, if I inadvertently end up taking a nap instead.

Jon's been busy.


I have some touch ups to do before I can start filling them up.


The room's not quite long enough for me to get the whole thing in one shot. (That wall's about 11' across.) Maybe I'll take a picture from outside the window when they're all done.

We have a floor,


some chairs (and a lamp),



and an unexpected couch,




and tomorrow we start building shelves.



Still to come: molding, fixing/painting the door, and refinishing two huge old tables with one little old lady.

The atelier-office-gunroom-studio project is coming along in Kream style (by which I mean slowly).



I just finished painting the trim for the shelving and I'll be painting the bigger pieces this afternoon.


Then Jon can finish up the ceiling (we learned that drywall doesn't like it if you keep the heat off), and we can lay the floor, build the shelves, and actually set up the room. Finally, finally, my mom and I will get to refinish this table.


(That big crack on the top of the table is gone. We fixed it up with some glue and really big clamps.)

See the masking tape in that first picture? This is what Jon has to deal with. I don't draw, so when I want us to build something I draw on the wall with masking tape and he figures out how it will stay up and how many bazilliondy pieces of wood I need to paint.

We tend to name things in our house - furniture, rooms, everything gets a name. The Gun Room pretty much named itself, but over the years it morphed into The Office. These days we're finally transforming it into a craft studio. So far we're still calling it The Office, but in my head (a noisy, busy place) it's The Atelier. I like to do what I can to keep it pretty in there.

Dagny and I started painting yesterday. She and Rowan chose the color - Golden Rod. It's a bright room, with good-sized windows on the eastern and southern walls, and I think the yellow suits it.




We've got lots of ideas and lots to do, and for me designing the room will be as much fun as actually using it. Dagny and I want this turquoisey blue to make its way into the room somewhere, as it looks quite pretty with the yellow in that studio. I'm thinking probably on the shelves Jon just found out he's building for me. He's nice like that.