Onward and Upward in the Garden...

More scraping and painting.  The two bedroom windows on the west side of the house have been completed and the screens cleaned and replaced.  There are more cactus and crushed stone, as well. And the screen door is installed!  It turned out so nice!  The porch will get its new coat of paint soon!

On to the garden (the garden?). Yes, the garden!  As the entire house and the garden will be featured during the tour, I need to start work out there now - the inside can wait but the plants need tending to keep them looking good - or at least mostly alive - for the next two months.

There was also a goodly amount of "junk" festering about the place.  You know, those scraps of wood that might be used for "something" and about six hose nozzles in questionable condition.  I found, as well, a lovely piece of travertine in the alley and, voila! it is now the top of my potting table.  Moved the rain gauge... There always seems to be something more to do.

My hope is that when all is said and done the garden will be more productive in addition to being beautiful.  It's so restful to work in the garden - rewarding, too, especially when we actually eat something delicious fresh from the soil.

I painted the back gate and we added also a wee little door for 'Clem to use - bottom right.  Can you see it?

There it is!  We leave it open for him and he just hops right on through.  I am always fearful of him tangling with all the cactus I planted along the fence - this way he can come through the gate and avoid the stickers.

My travertine-topped potting table.  Very nice.

 

The shell chair and gate painted to match the house.

Inspired by Chihuly. (Repetition of Form)

Miniature garden of succulents.

And so it goes...

Drum Roll, Please...

Don't faint but I've started painting, again.  This week I tackled the west gable - the hot side of the house.  And it was hot.  This gable is much larger than the gables on the garage and there is a pepper tree, lantana, and several cacti that make it difficult to maneuver the extension ladder.

I'm fortunate I'm not afraid of heights.  Climbing that ladder with a bucket in my hand was like the uber stair master!  Scraping, sanding and brushwork do nice things for arms (after they stop hurting, anyway!).  Lots of time to ponder while I'm up there, too.

I'll take it slow and go in stages so that I've completed one "area" entirely, before I move on.  The house may be two colors for yet a little while longer but I don't think it will be terribly obvious.  Not really.  The front of the house, facing north and being spared the relentless sun, looks nice still, and so it shall be last.  In all likelihood, the front gable the shutters and window boxes will wait until after Home Tour, as I don't want to cut away all the honeysuckle to get at them - they won't have adequate time to recover. I'll do the trim, though - for continuity.  And the front porch - after the security door is installed.

Tomorrow will be the windows on the west side and then I shall plant more cactus and rake the gravel and call it good!  The weather has been simply lovely and I am looking forward to more time outside.

The House of Belonging...

This is the bright home

in which I live,

this is where I ask

my friends to come,

this is where I want

to love all the things

it has taken me so long

to learn to love.

There is no house

like the house of belonging

~ David Whyte

It's Just Stuff...

Painting has stalled but in the interim, I've traveled to Idaho, California, Nevada, Oregon, Utah... and I've learned about myself, which is always a good thing.

Our charming little home was violated on my birthday. Windows smashed, drawers turned upside down, items were stolen, our sense of security was shaken. I was in California, so Steve was forced to deal with the mess - and he did so, beautifully, magnificently, calmly... he is my rock.

We decided to proceed with our travel plans and although the trespass lingered in my mind there was beauty and wonders, dear family and friends to enjoy along the way. But I returned changed.

Most of our belongings were recovered and I was relieved that irreplaceable treasures were secure (Jack's watch, my grandmother's bracelet, my mother's cameo...). The damage was minimal and so an intensive tidying put most everything to rights.

As I was returning our possessions to their rightful places (a place for everything...); however, I was struck by just how much "stuff" we have. Putting it all back took days. This is ridiculous.

What did the thieves think when they broke through that back window? A treasure trove or, more likely, what a bunch of worthless junk. There truly isn't much worth pawning in our house. What they thought was worthy could be hauled away in a couple of pillow cases: a DVD player, some screw drivers, chisels, and my garden shears. Animated movies. Some of my jewelry. The old pickle jar of loose change that Steve kept on the dresser top. My Toshiba laptop that still runs Windows 2000. My bike (okay, the green beach cruiser is cool). But it's just stuff.

My real treasures can never be stolen: My loving family. My wonderful neighbors and friends who helped clean up the mess, put plywood over the windows, checked on the house while we were away. My beloved kitty. The love and support of the people that matter most.

I still have my stuff. I still enjoy my stuff. But my relationship to my stuff has been altered. Now, I need to take time to show the people in my life that they are more important than my stuff.

My mom made that cute little wreath. The painted plywood covers the former window. We might just leave it that way. Who knows?

It's a Duvet...

... From LL Bean. As Dad would say, it's like sleeping under a giant pillow! The afghan that Denise made me looks great with the colors in the duvet cover and pillow shams. Little Mother, those are the Manzanita branches we hacked down from your yard. Cool, eh?

Detours...

It was Robert Burns who wrote, "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley." And so goes my painting this summer. Although the house is half-clothed in a coat of color both old and new, my time of personal discovery has remained. It's form is different. Less pondering of brushing and scraping and a little bit more travel than previously anticipated. Travel and work, both of which for I am grateful.


We're in the middle of July and the temperatures are soaring. I don't mind the postponement. Now that I am home for a spell, I imagine I will garden a bit more, indulge 'Clem, and enjoy the cool tile floor on my bare feet. The heat dulls me but the monsoon is upon us. I'll defer now to John Steinbeck and let the trip take me.

Plans and Progress...

... or lack, thereof.

Next on the agenda is the gable and windows on the east side of the house. I have yet another delay, however. In lieu of painting I shall be in the field for several days working. It is a hurry up and wait sort of project. I had known for several weeks that this was a possibility and then yesterday (Tuesday), I got the word: can I be there Thursday (tomorrow)? Yes. I can. And I will be.

And so the scrapers and sandpaper, brushes and paint shall remain in their cupboard until I return.

In the meantime, rather than start a phase I knew I couldn't finish, I spent time on the vegetable garden. It seems that all I have to do is let it slip out of my mind for only a day or two and it bolts. This artichoke was "almost" ready to eat and in the blink of an eye, it's too late. It is going to flower and soon will go to seed. That's okay as I think it is a beautiful thing.

Bulk trash pick-up was today so I spent a bit of time cleaning up the after the loader had done it's business. We'd stacked a pile of cuttings from the Mulberry for pick-up and they were taken away. I'd also trimmed back the cactus that were "encroaching" on the alley.

I try to find a point of balance: working on the painting project but also keeping up with the needs of the garden. As it gets hotter the vegetation demands more attention: some to stay alive and some, like the Bermuda grass, needs to be beaten back or it will take over everything.

Prickly Pear

Cholla and Globe Mallow

Baby cantaloupe from Mary!

I planted one of the cantaloupes in a raised bed in the vegetable garden and the other I planted in the front yard beneath the lemon tree. Hopefully, they will thrive and bear fruit!

The Back Porch and the Casita

The three-day weekend was upon me. Friday evening would find us entertaining Danny and Joni, Mary, Brian, Matt and Denise on our, hopefully, freshly painted back porch.

I made do recycling the masking tape I already had and trying to be neat in the places I had none. I got all the crap out of the garage. And it rained. It started spitting on Wednesday, got pretty serious on Thursday night and kept right on through most of Friday morning and into the afternoon. No worries...

The pencil cactus in front of the Casita. The socks are full of sand and keep it from flooding during the summer monsoon.

Got milk?

Those zillions of two-by-fours. Taping and painting was like standing in an oven - that corrugated metal got amazingly hot.

Painted the old chest to match. It has found new life as a seat.

In the Casita: a small tray of essentials for our guests. The sink is freshly scrubbed.

Crisp sheets and the rustic comforter and pillow shams from my Mom added just the right touch.

I believe the next phase will be the east gable on the house, the trim on the exterior of the patio, and the front porch. Brick by brick, my citizens, brick by brick...

Moving Right Along...

For the most part, the garage is complete. I've a bit of touch up to do here and there and a vent on the roof needs to be painted but it has be done first thing in the morning or the asphalt shingles will burn the skin off my arms. On the whole, I'm thinking it looks pretty sharp! (That's the pergola in the foreground.)

And so, I am moving along to the patio. This will be an exercise in patience as there are about a zillion little two-by-fours that need to be masked off with tape. Naturally, to prolong the agony, I painted the windows first. Two windows look out from the kitchen onto the patio, one of which is over the kitchen sink. It's full of little knick-knacks and such - in a tiny kitchen every bit of space must be utilized to the max. Of course, all the trinkets mean I don't need any sort of curtain for "privacy."

You can kind of get an idea by what I mean about all the masking tape. This is the top of that support post that Steve repaired for me. I think it turned out pretty nice.

The patio itself is probably a million years old - well, okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it's been attached - and I use that term loosely - to the house for many years. Technically, it's over spanned but has been "grandfathered" due to it's age. It's a tenacious assembly of wood, corrugated aluminum, and some sort of funky scalloped metal trim. We've spent many many happy hours with friends and family enjoying its shade, ambiance, and the cracked concrete slab that I've decorated with flowering vines. (Yeah, I won't be quitting my day job.)

Before I could get after the trim, Steve needed to effect some additional repairs. (He likes doing this sort of thing so I "save" it for him - hee hee!) Next I'll be using some more of my favorite patching compound, sanding, wiping, and painting away.

The pressure is on just a little bit as Danny and Joni will be arriving on Friday from Cortez. They're attending their niece's wedding but will be staying with us at Chez Wilson. We are putting them up in what our insurance company euphemistically calls "The Casita" which is actually the freshly painted and air conditioned garage (complete with futon, television, and hot and cold running water). It's rustic but better than the back of a pick-up truck. Right now it's full of all the crap that was on the back porch. I'm out of masking tape. They say it might rain.

No worries...

Brush in Hand

After weeks away, my project is back on track. It was like climbing a mountain; getting the ladder back out, locating my cans of paint, sand paper, scraper, patching compound, brushes, hammer, nails, ratty apron with the big pocket... In my mind the project had taken on an enormous insurmountable scale and I was dreading it. Once back up on the ladder I gradually moved into my zone and again enjoyed the experience. Focusing on what is right in front of me - peeling paint, resetting a nail - it's a bit like a working meditation.

Today, I spent the morning hours scraping, patching, sanding, and washing the front of the garage. Tomorrow, after it is thoroughly dry, I will apply the paint. Once I had finished washing down the walls, 'Clem flopped down on the now-cool pavement and had his siesta.

The front of the garage differs from the back in that is hasn't been blasted by the sun to the extent as the south-facing wall had been. It also has a vent which will require a bit more finesse with a brush.

While 'Clem napped, I retreated to the cool interior of the house and waited for the sun to move from the back door where I would next move my operations.

The back door which leads into the kitchen faces east and takes the full brunt of the sun for hours each morning. When we first moved into our home the back door was french-style, top-to-bottom single panes of glass and rotting wood. It had baked and offered minimal thermal protection. Years ago we replaced it with a solid-core steel-clad door possessing dual-paned glass, but it still takes a beating from relentless el Sol.

I taped, sanded, and removed the hardware (door knob, dead bolt, strike plate) and was well into my painting when I heard the sickening squeal of tires on pavement and the twisting of metal on metal.

I dropped everything and sprinted down the street. The sight was chilling. No fewer than four vehicles strewn all over 7th Avenue. A woman was on the side of the road screaming hysterically, so I headed to her. A young man - her significant other - was already on the phone calling for help and her six-year-old son, uninjured, Thank God, was standing by her side. I knelt in front of her, told her I was trained in First Aid and asked if she would allow me to help.

There were no obvious external injuries but she was complaining of chest and stomach pain. She'd been wearing her seat belt and the airbag had deployed - the seat belt probably being responsible for the pain. There was nothing to do now but watch her and keep her still, comfort her as best I could, and wait for the paramedics to arrive. I held her hand and stroked her hair and spoke to her by name. She calmed some but when she closed her eyes I made her open them back up and look at me - I needed her to stay awake.

My neighbors, a nurse and a doctor, arrived and I relinquished my care. The police, fire department, paramedics, arrived and I melted into the background. When she was safely on a back board and being loaded into an ambulance, I walked back home. Only then did I realize I had gravel embedded in my knees, wore filthy socks without shoes, and was covered in paint.

I finished painting the door and trim. Now it was therapeutic. It wasn't enough to eradicate the images of broken glass, pools of radiator fluid, and a screaming woman - but it helped. And I tried to hold in my mind a picture of an unharmed six-year-old boy who smiled in spite of it all.

Biding My Time...

It's Sunday. About 3 PM. The mercury stands at 101 in the shade. I won't be scraping, sanding, or painting anything until after the sun goes down.

Inside the light is dim and cool. Crinkled voile covers the windows creating a red glow and blocking some of the harsher rays of the sun. Officially, summer has not yet arrived. My senses tell me otherwise.

A Brief Hiatus

My painting efforts have been put temporarily on hold as I am out of town on assignment! I've been spending several days providing quality control for a construction project in the Verde Valley of Arizona. It's been a tremendous experience although we've had blustery weather and even a brief snow flurry yesterday afternoon.

Painting will resume when we return from our vacation week after next. In the interim I have photos of the cedar chest and spool chest that we received from Steve's parents. As they are moving to a smaller home, they passed these along to us. The cedar chest makes a lovely coffee table and the spool chest will hold little odds and ends.

The spool chest is in the dining room. I think I'll put my silver tableware in the small drawers.

O' the Joy!

Finally, finally, brush in hand, I got to experience the joy of coating my sanding, scraping, patching with paint! Two coats. (Well, four coats on the window frame because I had the colors backwards initially. C'est la vie.)


Of note: While I've been painting the rose garden is producing wonderful colors of its own. The Saint Patrick is blooming beautifully.

Daily, new blooms arrive on the hollyhocks.

What's 'Clem looking at...?

...The lizard on the fence. Can you see it?

When Do We Actually "Paint?"

Well, not yet but soon. Soon. I've got three gallons of primer stashed in the trunk of the car. I need to go back to the Depot and get a couple of gallons of the "self-sealing" masonry paint (I had to check the colors, first). This time next week I will hopefully be reporting that the painting of the outbuilding (also known as the garage) is complete. After that, I plan to move on to the patio. I'll tackle the house proper after we return from Canyonlands.

Steve replaced a bit of rotten wood atop one of the supports on the patio. The wood he replaced was pretty much dust and fell apart in his hand. It now looks worse than it is, as Steve did a wonderful job on the repair. I'll prep, patch and sand this before painting, of course.

Neglect Not The Garden...

Today, the garden was calling to me. I'd become so involved in my scraping and sanding and patching and such that I'd been neglecting the Bermuda grass that was starting to take over the beets. I spent the better part of the afternoon pulling undesirables and clearing off my potting table. A new border went in around two sides of the asparagus patch and old twigs and such went into the trash.

Manuela, our mail carrier, likes grapefruit! Huzzah! I spoke with her today and she is quite keen to take some of the citrus off my hands. What she doesn't consume herself her co-workers are happy to have so I shall pick some and leave them on the porch for her tomorrow.

Scraping... Scraping...

Tuesday. The front gable is not so readily scraped. As the sun never actually shines on this surface, the paint is in poor condition but not baked to peeling as it is on the back. Consequently, it requires a lot more elbow grease to make headway. I am getting off the big chunks but will resort to the sander for the balance.

The framing around the garage door is marginally more cooperative. I had to prune back a large sage to get at the trim and soffit. More patching is on the horizon. Tomorrow, Friday, I shall purchase my primer.

Wednesday I took a break from scraping and moved to the back porch where I proceeded to take down strings of lights, wind chimes, the thermometer, and the bottle opener. Stray nails were pulled, and all manner of "crap" was relocated to the vegetable garden pending disposal or permanent relocation.

I cleaned out the rock pile, too. (What? Doesn't everyone have a rock pile?)