Grey. Finally.

I can't seem to find it in my back log of posts, but I'm pretty sure I've mentioned my inclination this time of winter, each year, to paint everything grey.  It may be the clean, quiet white world beyond our windows, (and its harsh contrast to the busy, cluttered space in which we live).  Whatever it is I find myself wishing for white and grey, maybe a bold accent or two, but otherwise clean, quiet, calm.  I'm sure I'm not alone in this desire.  

Well, this year I've managed a bit of it.  Below you see December's living room wall (tree and all) in "Orange Sherbert" a color I loved when I painted it 8 years ago, and loved for many years.  But not so much any more--at least in the winter.  With the eventual go-ahead from Rob, I think his final decree was "paint anything you want, as long as I don't have to see it happen" (a girl could have fun with permission like that!) I got to it.  In bits and pieces during his work day, while he was curling, or while sick children napped, or play mobile adventures dictated our day, the living room got painted.  Grey.  

There are a ridiculous number of grey options in the paint world, each with surprisingly different effects.  I sampled several in those $1.99 sample jars and found them either too dark, or too harsh--like cement.  

 The final color is Benjamin Moore's Revere Pewter (recommended by a friend for its warmth--despite being grey).  It has a brown undertone, and looks a bit blue in some lights, nearly white in others.  I'm loving it.   

Yesterday Rob asked, "you're not going to paint the dining room are you?".  

"No, Honey".  (not yet anyway).  

Fiddler On The Roof (and a new kitchen island!)

The big kids and I went to see "Fiddler on the Roof" at the Waterville Opera House with our homeschool group last weekend.  The show was very well done, and despite being a little long we all enjoyed it.  I'd seen the show once before, in high school I think, and remembered just a little about it.  What surprised me is that I either hadn't realized (or I'd forgotten) that the fiddler is only a metaphor for the lives of the people of their village, precariously balancing tradition and changing culture and surviving against the odds.  Somewhere in my adolescent brain I'd seen it as an actual trade in their town, albeit a risky one.  

The past few weeks I've been feeling like my own life is a bit like that fiddler.  Of course my struggles don't even begin to compare to those of Tevye's family as they face anti-semitism, extreme poverty, and an angry Czar who drives them from their village. There's nothing like refugees to put your life into perspective.  

Perpective aside though, my struggles have felt real to me--and its been a rough few weeks.  Monday's post of cheery, homeschool love and excitement was pre-written (two weeks ago), and while heartfelt and honest at the time of writing felt fairly like lying based on my present state of mind.  I've been dealing with some minor conflict in a couple of different areas of my life, which came to head just as two fairly large, long planned for projects were beginning with some other groups (one of them is a fantastic community build with Window Dressers organization to help keep our neighbors warm, reduce heating costs, and cut down on CO2 emmissions.  Check it out.) In the midst of these deadlines and commitments, trying to appropriately deal with conflict and meanwhile trying hard to stick to our homeschool schedule, Wylie announced, which quickly progressed to pestering, that he'd like to try public school.  For many of you, particularly those of you with kids in school this probably seems unoffensive, and rather normal.  Even so, to me his request felt like a sock in the gut.  I can't verbalize exactly why.  It didn't feel like an insult as some have suggested.  I know his curiosity well and can see where he's coming from.  But, it put me in an instant state of panic and unrest.  I'm still part way there.  

So, in the past week we have explored the local school, he has tried out the classroom and enjoyed it, though is not ready to make any kind of commitment.  He's not sure really what he's wanting from school, and I'm not sure that what he's looking for is really what he'll find there.  I feel like Tevye from fiddler, balancing pros and cons...  "On the one hand we didn't decide to homeschool him on a whim..."On the other hand, how much harm can come from 4th grade?  On the other hand.....   

As parents the decisions we make about and for our children are never easy.  But, when they were babies I always seemed to know in my gut what was right.  Now that they're older they have so many of their own opinions and feelings to add to each decision there's not just my own gut to consider.  At what point and with what risks do we decide to trust their instincts against our own?  

There are a few necessary steps to be taken before we can pursue the idea of school further, and Wylie is not sure what he wants to do from here.  I'm taking it slowly and trying to keep it all in perspective.  He's not moving to Siberia with his rebel partner, and none of us are facing an angry Czar.  So its mostly good, despite my angst.  

At the end of the play, refugees on stage, huddled against cotton snow flakes, struggling to carry all of their belongings as they are being displaced, Juniper turned to me and said flatly, "That was a sad ending".  Yup.  

I'm not sure how my little struggle will end, but I'm sure it will be better than theirs'.  

And, in the meantime, we have this amazing new kitchen island!  

Three cheers to Grampy, who is always up for a project when he visits, and is willing to work for chicken soup and BudLight.  And, to Rob who is almost always willing to agree to my design inspirations (despite his initial doubt) and who tackles any project with the mind to finish it before the weekend is out.  

We left for the play with the three of them, Grampy, Kale, and Rob, mulling over my design and working out the numbers.  We came home to a nearly finished piece, ready for me to sand and oil.  After 4 coats of mineral oil we've begun using it gently, but I'd still like to get another few coats on before we really get down to business on this beauty.  This new island has a proper overhang so the kids can eat without dropping food all over themselves, space for all three kids at once, and a cupboard on the end for storing our favorite school resources right near the table--where they get the most use.  We made the top and sides of birch plywood so they finished smooth and sleek, but should still be fairly rugged, and for 1/3 the price of butcher block.  I love it.  

Below pics from all sides, plus what happens when they all notice I'm taking pictures of them....

 

 

 

                 

 

Honey Comb

There's a certain satisfaction in getting a paint color just right.
This one (on the left), wasn't it.  A little too mustard yellow, particularly for someone with condiment issues.

 So, I tweaked it.  A little blue from an old bathroom paint job, stir, a little more blue, stir, and like magic--or preschool, yellow turns to green.  An earth-toned, slightly edgy, almost ugly green (I've always had an affinity for the so ugly its almost cute).  It is just right.
Of course with a color this great I couldn't stop at one door.  If I lived alone I may have an entire room this color by now, likely more than one.  But, Rob is a bit more practical and talks me down from whims such as painting large areas ugly green.  It was however exactly the thing for a little bee love I've been planning for:

 Up close it isn't perfect--nothing here is.  If it looks like a two year old did our painting he probably did...but, the overall effect, the edgy green, the earthy brown, the honey comb goodness.  I'm loving it.

* Specs:  the honey comb pattern came from this Craft Gossip Tutorial (which I will most certainly be following sometime soon).  I downloaded and printed out the pattern, then enlarged it on a copier and re-printed it on a transparency.  Then, used a razor to cut it out.  For brushes I used those little foam brushes from the hardware store, at $1.19 a piece.  The blue frog is a paper cut out from a greeting card sent by my younger sister.  He's been perched there since we moved in 7 yrs. ago.  

screen porch

When provided with the right combination of helpful children, card playing, beer, and good food its pretty impressive what Rob and his dad can accomplish.  

      

     

    

 A year to hash out the details, a week to order materials, a weekend to build, and the rest of the summer (and many, many, yet to come) to relax, eat, and sleep nearly outdoors bug free.  We are exceedingly thankful to family who give so much of themselves, and are course thrilled with the outcome.  

sense of place: stairwell

Taking a break from morsels this week, to introduce a new topic:  

Sense of Place:  
In environmental education there is a focus on finding a "sense of place" defined as identifying deeply with the area in which you live, understanding its biodiversity, and protecting its natural state.  Artists speak of developing a sense of place within their work, and historians identify a sense of place in a connection with one's heritage in a particular area.   

In coming to terms with the space we fill in this world, and in celebrating my love of the elements of design, I am going to begin regularly posting about the spaces we keep, our sense of place, if you will.
The spaces will mostly be in our own home, some away from home, and occasionally home designs that I really dig from elsewhere.  

If you feel inspired to share a space of yours too, please do.  Just leave a link to your spot in comments section for others to share.  I'd love to see other people's ideas.


Stairwell: 

Feng Shui has a lot to say about staircase placement, shape, and style.  I think ours breaks every rule.
Even so, I love this place in our house.  It is high and open, allowing for framed views of various parts of the house, while its central position creates a separation between the public and more private areas of an otherwise open floor plan.  I feel as though it is a place full of movement and energy, allowing for a relationship between the two floors that might not exist were the staircase more enclosed.  There are no windows in our upstairs hall, or stairway, but the secondary light from so many other sources is striking, particularly as the sun moves from window to window throughout the day.

I love the rawness of the steel pipe railings, maple post, and the concrete block chimney; and the contrast provided by the soft yellow pine treads.  I love the sense of all of the elements anchoring the center of our home:  fire (from the wood stove and chimney) earth (in the concrete and wood), air (in the open space) and in some sense water in the movement of energy and of course people all day long between the two levels.

Yup, this is one of my favorite spaces.

In which Mama builds and a Happy Anniversary

I've always loved  home and furniture design and have really lucked out having a hubby who can build things. And particularly in having a father-in-law who can build things really well--and who doesn't know how to sit still.  The process usually goes something like this:  Me:  "picture x here. It would come out like this, and the lines would follow across here, imagine it darker like y..."  To which Rob's typical response is, "are you serious?" or "Its not happening anytime soon", or if I'm lucky, "build it yourself."  Well, being as he is, fairly anal about most things, I know that if I actually start building he will quickly take over.

That's how it went for the couch.  I'd been designing a built in couch to replace the old one we've had ever since we moved in together (that came from Rob's dorm, and his parents living room before that.)
I had gotten to the point of threatening to make a trip for plywood, when luck came my way, and Grampy became "trapped" at our house while his motorcycle was being repaired.  And so the couch frame was built.  Thanks Grampy!

The old couch was torn apart and sent to a friend's dumpster (I know, more waste!  But really I could see no other option for the sorry thing. Though I've saved the cushions for some possible future project).

We bought material from Fabric Depot and ordered cushions to be made to our design by Coastal Canvas , owned by our neighbors from Belfast.  And when they finally came, we loved them.

Love them.  I love the simplicity of it.  Love the single long cushion so there is absolutely nothing to shift out of place and need to be straightened.  I love the dark brown material that will hide all of our stains.  And I love the long, levitating effect of the frame, with one single leg, and a bookcase on the end to hold it up.  It may not be healthy to feel so much pride in a piece of furniture, but I'm going with it.

Rob was skeptical about the built in couch design from the beginning, and I give him credit for having so much faith in me.  He seems to love it almost as much as me (or he's pretending well, which is very much appreciated).  The one draw back is, so he says, the coffee table/yard sale chest that is now too low and not long enough.  I agree.

So, while he was away on business last week I decided to cut out the middle-man and take on the full title of designer/builder.  I got a big, slab of maple from a guy down the road with a portable saw mill.  After sanding I built a small shelf below to hold our lap top a.k.a TV, and magazines (or board books as is the case), and attached iron pipes with threaded flanges for legs.  These match the pipe railing on the staircase, and the leg of the couch.  For a first project it looks great (all modesty aside) especially if you don't lie down underneath and see the several screws I stripped and had to leave half-way out.  Oops.

Builder Mama and helpers

I "wrapped" the table and presented it to Rob as an early anniversary gift upon his return.
And, he loves it! (unless he's pretending-- still appreciated).

Happy anniversary honey!  Thanks for sharing this crazy adventure with me.