Finally Moved

Phew! Just a little bit busy this month.
Moved, started demolition process, started a new job, and had to squeeze Christmas in there too.

Our Dec 2nd moving day was postponed because of snow. We get so little of that white stuff that when we do get a few centimetres the whole city shuts down. Moving our furniture in an open trailer didn't look like such a good idea with snow falling so we decided to move just the boxes that were going into storage but only got one trailer-load of boxes to the new house before the roads became too treacherous for an inexperienced trailer-puller. We rented a truck for the big move the following weekend, just in case we got our entire winter quota of snow within two weeks.
What an ordeal moving is. You don't realize how much junk you own until you have to pack it, move it, unpack it and then find a place to put it away. Two weeks later & we're still tripping over boxes full of things that I haven't found a home for yet. And that's after a very brutal culling process.
I just got so tired of all the stuff, stuff, stuff. By the time I got to the top shelf in my bedroom closet I realized there were things stored there that I haven't even looked at in 10 years. I said I don't care what it is, if I haven't needed it in all that time I can live without it.... it's going. Then I opened a box and it was my wedding photos. Foiled again - more stuff that had to be moved.

I spent the week off between jobs going back & forth between houses: packing, taking things down, making a mess & throwing things out at one house; unpacking, hanging things up, cleaning and throwing more things out at the other. Moving into a much smaller kitchen with 1/2 the cupboard space makes you re-evaluate whether you really need 5 frying pans to survive. Oh, and when I say "throwing out" I don't mean it ended up in the landfill - most of it is still in bags & boxes in our storage room waiting for me to make yet another trip to Value Village - someone's got to benefit from this move, may as well be Big Brothers & Canadian Diabetes. My friend's daughter was thrilled to get an adorable Christmas decoration of ours but couldn't understand how I could part with it. I told her that at that point I was so fed up that if my Mother had been in the house I would have gladly given her away.

Quickies

1. Moving this weekend. AAAAACK! Anyone want some cranky old appliances?

2. Got a new job today. Yay!

3. My jewelry will be at a lovely little Artisan Sale in Steveston at 4th & Broadway next week. Friday Dec 7th from 12 - 8 & Saturday Dec 8th 10 - 4.

Now off to fax employment agreement & continue packing....

Promises

A list of things I have said we could have "once the new house is finished":

1. A new toaster. With 4 slots for after-school cinnamon toast pig-outs; one that can maintain that elusive waffle-toasting point somewhere between still soggy & charcoal.
2. New dishes.
3. A holiday. Somewhere warm, NOT within driving distance.
4. A snake, possibly a ball python. Shea wants a cuddly pet. (No, I'm not crazy)
5. Paintings. When we go to shows & galleries I should just bring a recording of myself saying over & over: "WALLS first, then art"
6. A sports car. Hmmmm - reconsidering that previous statement about my sanity.
7. A fancy hand-crafted pepper mill from the Circle Craft Christmas fair.
8. A new (additional) computer.
9. A hydraulic storage bed that lifts up. Room for keeping Shea's bow & arrows safe.
10. A kitten. When I told Kim we should wait until the house is done, he agreed that it wouldn't be fair to the kitten to move twice. Uh-huh, as if a kitten's inconvenience was my only concern. (Adding pet stores to my list of places to avoid when shopping with my husband)

I know I've said those words "when the house is finished" many more than ten times so this is a partial list, still in progress.

At least I'm safe about the sailboat. I am positive I didn't utter that phrase "when the house...." when sailboats were brought up. In fact, as I remember it, my side of that conversation was "no, no, no, No, No.....NO.........NO!

They're at it again.

Now, in the final stretch one week before we move, as if we don't have anything better to do (like pack, maybe) we have to wash dishes. Our portable Maytag dishwasher has dealt us another blow and stopped washing our dishes. It goes through all the motions but instead of spinning around spraying water, the spin-around-spraying-water things are acting more like stay-in-one-spot-and-drizzle things.
If we didn't have to bring it with us I wouldn't bother but our rental doesn't have one so that makes the 6th or 7th visit - I've lost track- from the repairman since February. It's a conspiracy I tell you.

Our rental house does have a nice washer & dryer so I'm ignoring the fact that my washer is also acting up. The laundry-room carpet is very squishy, even though it hasn't rained in days, with a spreading puddle in front of the washer. (Mom, if you want to do your laundry while you're waiting for the repairman for me, wear boots)
I also suspect that the spinny part isn't spinning as fast as it should as the clothes are coming out a little wetter than usual but that's OK because the timer on the dryer isn't shutting off consistently just keeps on tumbling until I finally remember that I'm doing laundry. At this point I really don't care, as long as my clothes get clean.

Forget shoe-shopping, my new favourite stores sell appliances: nice new, shiny, well-behaved ones. Today I saw a Kitchen-aid dish-drawer I'm lusting after- take that you drizzly old Maytag.

Fell in love, now heart-broken

Today we went looking at bathroom & kitchen fixtures and afterwards were walking down Main St. past all the antique shops as I was describing my vision for our powder room. I picture it sumptuous and rich in colour & texture; a little surprise when you open the door, completely different in feel from the rest of the house (OK, so now it won't be a surprise any more) and said I could even see an ornate little chandelier, something vintage, not new. "So let's just pop into this shop right here & see if they have what I'm thinking of." Big mistake.

We popped in & fell in love with the first chandelier we saw. (Even Kim did, and he isn't usually very enthusiastic about antique or used things unless they have 4 wheels and a powerful engine) Very elaborate, Art Nouveau, with hand-blown glass shades, each signed by the artist - in 1905. Absolutely exquisite.... & right within our budget - our budget for an entire bathroom that is!

The owner was so nice; he already has an offer on it from a dealer but would rather see it go into a home - if we could beat the offer. Fat chance.
He also showed us some more pieces he'd bought from the same private collector in France: a table lamp that matches the chandelier, that he's hesitant to sell because he makes so much renting it to film production companies;
and a set of glass shades by the same artist. Just the glass parts.
They are crying to be made into pendant lamps and hung over the island in the centre of our kitchen. They would be the focal point, I would design the entire kitchen around them.
So organic they remind you that glass comes from the earth: so not-shiny; so not matchy-matchy; so not manufactured-looking; so so beautiful. So so so much money. More than the cost of a really fancy-pants kitchen faucet - each.

The chandelier I can live without (maybe) because it deserves a better home than a tiny bathroom & we don't have another suitable spot for it, but the shades would be so perfect for our kitchen. To be able to look at something in your home every day that an artist put his soul into over a hundred years ago....

I had a brain-wave on the way home: Christmas is coming, there are 4 shades, 4 of us. Do you think the boys would appreciate each getting one 102-year-old, signed, art nouveau glass light shade from France for Christmas? I mean it would be worth 2 or 3-times more than we would otherwise spend on them. Can't Shea use his old, too-small bow a little longer? Cole doesn't really want anything else, does he?
Sorry, not going to happen. And now we're spoiled: no pendant lights, no matter how fabulous, are going to look as perfect as those ones would have.

I'm going to have to stick to shops that cater to my price range. I couldn't take this every time I go shopping.

Things are moving

At least we will be in less than a month.

I knew it had been a while but didn't realize it had been more than a month since my last post. I guess that's what working FIVE days a week for a change does to time. Sure miss that one extra day off each week.
Whenever I've had time on the computer (yes, we're living in the dark ages - family of 4 sharing ONE computer, they're going to grow up emotionally stunted & socially shunned for being so deprived) I've been looking for a place to live & a new job but now we've rented a house for Dec. 1st and my temp job has been extended until Dec 10th so the pressure's off on both those counts. Still looking for job but it's not as urgent as when I thought I was going to be unemployed by last Friday.

The rental is the big news as it ties us down to a concrete date. I've been packing up things for the past 3 weeks (slowly) that are to go into storage until the new house is finished but the house we rented has an extra storage room beside the carport so we may not have to rent extra storage space after all. Working at the hospital has been a great source for boxes and I haven't had to resort yet to taking the big "Depends" boxes. I'd rather have our new neighbours wonder why we need cartons and cartons of rubber gloves than think I need those.

The rental house isn't as close to the boys' school as we'd like but couldn't find anything in the neighbourhood within our budget - this area is getting just too trendy. The house is exactly 1-3/4 miles from school (our streets are on a 1/2-mile grid, that's how I know) and on a bus line. In fact, they couldn't be any closer to a bus-stop unless they slept in a bus shelter. (which is a tempting thought sometimes) They'll have to learn to get up the first (or even the 2nd, 3rd or 4th) time I call them when they have a bus to catch.

So we'll be in a small rancher, not perfect but it'll work, and the boys won't have to share a room so Shea won't be tempted to sleep outside in a tent. Besides we don't want to rent a big fancy house & have the boys feel like they're slumming when we move into our new house.
No studio space for me in the rental, unfortunately, but I think I might be just a little busy with this little design project of ours. Kim's done the walls, now it's my turn!

Somehow, they know

I swear they know their time is running out. Must be all the brochures & magazines I've been bringing home. We are going to try and find good homes for them, not just dump them, but they've staged a protest anyway.
At first it was nothing drastic; nothing serious enough to warrant replacement, just little things: bushings, belts, fans - just enough to force us to call in a repairman, take a day off work. OK,I'll admit that part's not so bad, an extra studio day, but I could do without the writing-a-cheque part.
It was well-organized: started with the dryer; exactly 2 weeks later the freezer; another 2 weeks and the washing machine took it's turn. Then just when we thought they'd made their point, the dryer took another turn. They even got our toilet on their side, acting up for weeks before flooding the bathroom and needing it's internals replaced.
Now, like so many protests, it's gotten out of hand and there's been a fatality. Even though the little guy was coming with us to our new home, my studio convection oven, trying to show solidarity with the big guys, has kicked the bucket. Now all I hear is the little tick-tick of his timer, no more fan, no more heat. What a pain, right in the middle of curing a batch of beads so I couldn't tell if they'd reached the proper temperature for long enough before the oven died.
I'll have to run upstairs to use my kitchen oven now, although when I mentioned this to Kim he said no, get a new one. He can't stand the smell of polymer clay curing and thinks that because something smells bad, it's toxic. (Ha, if that were true we'd all be running for cover every time someone farted.) He's stuffed up with a bad cold so I'm safe for now, re-baked those beads today & he didn't even notice.