A new series awaits the readers! It’s In the Kitchen, on the Counter; an array of photos with details of, you have guessed it, things on our kitchen counter. Odd? Yes! Exciting? Hmm…part of a housewife and mother’s most varied and yet routine life? To be sure! Have a wonderful week.
Half done, one eye is completed. The other will be done next week. It really was lovely to paint for an afternoon. The family would suffer it it was pursued too heavily though; frosted mini-wheats was served as dinner that night and garlic rice with roasted green beans was served only to the husband at approximately ten o’clock, and this was simply because of my own desire to eat rice and garlic. We are enjoying the painting though.
Tonight begins the first painting on our big wall. A font and a projector make light work; should be done tomorrow.
Beginning this week and inspired by this post, I’m endeavoring to structure the days. There are many things that I do not make time for. And there are many things I take too much time for. I’m working on a plan that allows me time to practice things I was once good at and time to learn entirely new things; along with all of this, the time to teach my children a multitude of things. A post on what this will look like to follow. For now, a relic of my past; something I used to be good at.
I spent all of last week waking up, eating, and heading to our house. My days were long but my work load was really enjoyable. I finished wiring and installing our light fixtures, and started building shelving for our closets, our pantry, and our firebox in the lounge. This week I will start on the open shelving for the kitchen while the floors get sanded for refinishing. I also had the pleasure of spending nearly everyday with my dad; he put new countertops in the kitchen, hung the door for the bathroom and made the wooden inlay for the kitchen/dining transition. This week was exciting and overwhelming. Our septic system backed up and I did spend Monday night vacuuming sewage filth out of our brand new bathtub. Not a happy moment. But the plumber came to the rescue and was so generous that he donated all of his time, and his help’s time, as a housewarming gift to us. Our pipes are now connected to the septic tank and we’re back in business in the flushing/draining department. Deep breath out. We’ve also hit some hurdles with our slate tiles; it seems about one tile in forty is square. What has been done so far looks awesome, but I spent a whole day with numb fingers trying to find tiles that were square. And I failed, so the tile is no longer my concern. Deep breath out. It’s all coming together though.
I must say the house is turning out to be more beautiful than I thought it could be.
12-03-10
House
What a beautiful day to have
Nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Wet snow raining down,
The white landscape and the solid grey sky.
A husband to kiss off to work,
Waffles for breakfast
And coffee and a warm fire
With children under blankets.
All is soft.
Like the snow raining down.
The last month and a half has been brutality. We’re tired and desperate. We’re desperate for this house we’ve been creating, knowing that in time it will be our home. We’re longing for it to stop being our focus and to divert our attentions to our children and to each other. But you can see from the photos that we have made excellent progress over the course of November and December. I have more pictures to come. My heart burns to spend my 26th birthday within the walls, with my little family, my unmatched husband, and our lonely possessions. I shall not die if this dream is too hopeful, but I shall feel it an option. We’re almost there, we’re almost there, we’re almost there…
November 2nd:
November 27th:
December 4th:
December 9th:
Last week I skipped the laundry. This week I piled it in the trunk of our Buick and the entire trunk was filled with things to wash. I simply backed the car into my mother’s garage and sorted loads from the trunk as necessary; why bother bringing all of it inside? But the reds and pinks never had a chance at being clean, there were too many loads to do. This in and out of the house, in and out of the garage, in and out of the car calls forth thoughts of a laundry space in my own home. A laundry room that does not require any driving or any real finishing off of the pile. I spent the morning and afternoon dreaming, while washing and folding at my mom’s, about what will make my basement laundry room cozy. I lazily complied a list (of course) of what I would like to join me in my basement on wash day.
But before we really get into the items, the material things that would make me thankful and efficient, let us first discuss why my desire is thus. We must begin by discussing numbers. Currently there are five of us. Five people that wear daily a pair of pants, a shirt, socks, and often a sweater. There are four of us who wear underwear. We do often re-wear shirts and very often re-wear pants. The shortest person in our household is however, too messy most often for any kind of re-wearing, except perhaps of socks. In estimation the weekly numbers look like this: 16 pairs of pants, 25 shirts, 5 sweaters, 32 pairs of socks, and 25 pair of underwear. Also weekly to wash: 10 kitchen wash clothes, 12 kitchen towels, 3 hand towels, and 8 bathroom wash clothes, 1 bib, and 3 babies (night-time snuggling buddies). Bi-weekly: a bra or two. At least monthly, if not bi-weekly: 3 sheets, 9 pillowcases, and 5 blankets. Add it all together and it can not be done in one day. The numbers clearly show that I do a lot of laundry. In our house I will spend even more time doing laundry. Adding a sixth person to our family is going to add approximately two loads of laundry per week. Written out like everyone else: 10 onesies, 5 sleepers, 2 pair of pants, 6 shirts, 2 sweaters, 7 pair of socks, 5 burp clothes, 4 blankets, and anything else that gets puked on that’s machine washable. Do you not agree, that an activity that will clearly consume so much time, should be done in a space that is pleasurable and inviting? Cheers.
Of course all set up it will be, for a moment, just so. With a glass jar for pocket change and things my sons have loaded up, and a basket for socks whose partners have been unfaithful. There will be a tin with a sewing kit, scissors and a sweater shaver, for quick mends, loose strings, and fuzz balls; a drawer converted into a box with all the assorted items that one might use for stain removal (dishwasher soap, basalm & protein shampoo, carbonated water, baking soda, alcohol, an enzyme detergent, peroxide, and a stain stick), with a little jar alongside it all for an eyedropper and a toothbrush. There is room for one long shelf above the washer and dryer, where the aforementioned items will be kept, plus a few other things: economy sized jugs of detergents and softeners, a mopping bucket, the rag basket, and all the household cleaners for cleaning day. On the other wall I will have a counter for folding clothes with room for hampers underneath and the wonderful wash basin sink that served as kitchen sink this summer. On that wall I’ll have a drying rack or two, and some framed art. Probably a shot of our family and some of my daughter’s original water colors. On top of the dryer: a box with everyday stain remover, an easy-to-handle bottle with bleach, dryer sheets, essential oils to freshen things up, and cups to measure out soap. I’ll laminated copies of that stain chart from Martha, and a chart that decodes icons from a Real Simple magazine (sorry I can’t find it for you, it was in the magazine); that will help keep the laundry going without any googling and therefore facebook-ing and RSS reading. The ironing board and the iron will no doubt find themselves a convenient place. And I must have one or two of these to “lay flat to dry,” so many of our sweaters.
There are some things that will seem to have little to do with getting the laundry done. A painted floor, a colorful and cushy rug, a comfortable armchair, an extra light or two. These will simply add to the emotion of my life; they will help me slow down and enjoy what I am doing. Perhaps a cup of tea while I wait for socks to dry fully, or a seat in the middle of the night as I wait for one load of messed-up bedding to finish so I can add another before I go back upstairs. A rug to keep my feet warm on the concrete, to keep my hips from aching after standing on it for a few hours mending, folding, ironing, and loving. Perhaps you will join me someday, in the chair in the basement, as we chat about caring for our families and how many times we have washed our families undies. Oh I would like that, wouldn’t you?
The cooking has now moved mostly indoors. I’ve been enjoying using two sink to wash dishes as compared to one very large sink outside; now I can wash in one side and rinse in the other. Just having running water is still amazing. I’ve been eating obscene amounts of yoghurt and granola, while trying to figure out what I should feed the rest of the family. Only I can be sustained on the combination of the two. Cottage cheese has become a full meal for many of us, sometimes with toast, sometimes with an egg. I wish I could feed my family vegetables at every meal but there is no storage and no strength to fight anyone to eat what they do not want. I’ve been reading about Alice Waters and about high-calorie diets correlating to premature aging. Typically I get excited and feel challenged to plan differently. Tonight anxiety was the key emotion and so I bailed the articles I was reading and thought I’d post a great photo.
But alas, the photo is about cooking.
I think the thing our little family really lacks is time. Time to eat long meals with each other, around a table all together, talking and enjoying one another. Time that feels special and valuable, where growth and connection happens; time that is worth cooking my damn heart out for.
Once again I am found using the word wait.