Momma Sez

Nanny and Poppy came for a visit this week. Poppy asked us to save him some work, so you better believe we did.

Momma sez, take the laps off the barn door. Don't like it.

but honey....

MOMMA SEZ!

(I think it's an improvement.)

Momma sez, the yard don't look nice. Move them rocks.

but honey....

MOMMA SEZ!

Momma sez, take that thing off the balcony.

but honey....

MOMMA SEZ!

Thanks, honey!

A positive attitude gets results

With a renewed sense of determination, we were able to get moving on a couple of projects. Jesse tore out a 70's deck so that the paint removal guys and carpenter could access the lower shingles. I think the improvement is tremendous.

And I decided that the windows were something I could tackle:

Just unscrew the doodad:

Pull off the thingamajigs, tie the sash cord in a knot so the weight doesn't pull it into the cavity:

And voila, the window is out and ready for repair!!

This window is in pretty good shape. All I am going to do is sand it, replace the putty, stain the interior, and paint the exterior. 60 times. The glass could use a good scrub, too.

But I do need some new windows. So I did my research.

I visited many showrooms and inspected each brand of window. I also called a number of local window repair companies who might come out and repair the windows or replace the single panes with double panes. Wow, easily $500-600 per window. OK, so just about the same price as a replacement window.

Then, I read this article.

http://www.oldhouseguy.com/windows.php

I was sure that I would not be replacing any windows anymore. Our initial bid for the cheapest windows was already going to be $24,000 for 40 windows, not including labor. The idea that I was going to replace 100 year old growth wood windows with windows that have no proven track record was not sitting well.

New windows: $600-$1100 each, not including labor. Not only that, but forever more, we will be at the mercy of the company we choose to purchase from. Each window manufacturer has a proprietary system, susceptible to breakage. If you're out of the warranty period, you have to replace the entire system. The positive - double pane glass. The negative, metal clad is not seamless (think rot from inside out - maybe not, but my paranoid self thinks so), wood needs maintenance, vinyl sends dioxins into the environment in production and can split in extreme weather. I do like steel and metal windows, but they don't go with the period of the house.

Old windows: mechanical, long lasting, and easy enough for me to repair. With a storm window I am supposed to achieve even better insulation than with a double pane windows. Sold.
But to convince the husband would be another story. So we went around the house and I counted about 50% of the replacement windows were already broken.

Then I nagged him for a couple of weeks.

Then I visited the Versatile Sash showroom in Portland because I remembered from a previous project that they hand make windows as well.


The showroom was pretty impressive, and Alex, a rep with the company, was eager to show me around the voluminous warehouse full of projects before, during, and after production. Everything made locally.

Alex was pretty straightforward and honest with me. When I brought in the second floor windows, he confirmed that, aside from cosmetics, my large windows are in great shape. It was completely obvious, though, that the small attic window that I brought in was completely rotten.

So my order is in. Fourteen attic windows in complete failure in need of replacement sashes. All will be replaced with locally made douglas fir windows, for half the price of factory replacement windows. If something happens to one of these windows down the line, I'll know what to do.

Here is a link to their website.

http://versatilesash.homestead.com/

Honey Bee Palooza! The script for another horror film. A most productive weekend.

When we showed up at the farmhouse this past weekend, there was an estimate for work that was 25% higher than we originally anticipated. We were dejected, let down, and morale was pretty low. We felt hopeless and overwhelmed.

Then we met a man that defines kindness, selflessness and all that is good in the world.

His name is Frank, and he likes bees. He came to help us relocate bees that have made a home in our attic walls. These bees make anyone that comes to bid on jobs a bit nervous. In all fairness, we can't expect anyone to come work on a house alongside a swarm of bees.

Here he is!

Listening for bees in the walls. Let me tell you, the sound is a bit like a horror film. Super scary. Frank told us there could be 100, 10,000 or 40,000 bees in the wall. The sound was exciting and a bit disturbing at the same time. You could just tell there were a ton of them in there.

Looking...

Frank came over the next day at 6am. Before sunrise, while the bees are still home, before they fly out in search of food.

Time to smoke them out. Frank says this will cause the bees to start eating the honey. Ideally, they will eat honey in preparation for flight instead of sting us.

Clearly, he is not just an investigator, but a surgeon as well.

Throw in a little creep factor...

Voila, we have our nest!

Frank says that you can tell that the hive is very old by the color. It is also not a well producing hive, because we did not find any honey. This hive was barely hanging on for life.

Look at our poor wall. about 3 inches of the bottom was just a pile of dead, black bees. Since they didn't have a way to escape like they do in the wild, they just dropped down to the sill and stacked high.

Collecting and piecing together the hive for a bee box. Hopefully the queen is in here somewhere.

Poor Jesse, he wanted to see too, but there was only one extra bee suit. Don't worry jesse, I'm burning up in this suit and will trade places soon!

More surgery is performed:

And here's the hard part. The bees that strayed are vacuumed up. You can guess their fate.

I had a hard time with this. We are removing these bees from the only home they have ever known. We. are. killing. bees. You are not supposed to kill bees. 

Frank assured us that these bees were doomed. There was no honey in the walls. The life cycle of these bees is very short. It's the queen that matters (remember that, men). The walls of a house aren't conducive to a thriving bee colony.

My job, besides taking pictures of the process, was to vacuum the bees as he pulled out the combs. At any given time, there would be 50 bees flying around the room. The sun was coming up and there was no time to waste. 

I wasn't afraid, because we spent our summer surrounded by bees in our garden. Hundreds of bees, and we were never stung. Now I was in a bee suit. No problem. It was so much fun.

Every experience in our lives prepares us for the next one, doesn't it?

Frank (or Mr. Frank, say the kids), pointed out a yellow jacket flying around in the nest. He says that when there is a yellow jacket in a bee hive, it's another sign of a failing hive. Yellow jackets feed off weak honey bees.

There were still many bees in our attic, so he generously let us borrow his shop vac so we could vacuum up remaining bees. We spent a few more hours vacuuming the bees until they were gone. The alternative was to call an exterminator to spray the house.

Eek! Spray chemicals in a house with precious children around?

The next step is to scrape down the walls and plug the holes so that another bee population doesn't smell the sweet walls and create another home.

We asked Mr. Frank if he could put a bee box on our farm. We can't have this hive, because they will naturally gravitate to the walls of the house again. 

You know what else? Knowing how much I love honey, he brought me two quarts of the stuff from his home.

Then he invited us to his house to return the vac. There he showed us a hive he has encased in glass in his home. He showed us that the queen lays up to 2000 eggs per day, and how she always faces down when she lays an egg. 

It's all so incredibly fascinating. 

At the end of the day, we asked him how much we owe him. Do you know what he said?

I do it because I love it. Because I want to be kind and generous. The best thing you can do for me is to continue in the spirit of kindness and generosity.

I am not sure I believe that things happen for a reason, because terrible things happen to wonderful people. What I do believe is that our experiences prepare us for things in our life and that people come into our lives for a reason. To teach us. Meeting Mr. Frank was just what we needed. Thank you, Mr. Frank, for giving us hope.

Let the destruction begin - Part 1: the Attic

The roof is bowing and the front wall of the house appears to be leaning out. We knew that going into this project.

What we expected was superior craftsmanship because old houses are made that way, right?

Not so much, when it comes to the roof.

This week I will become an expert in trusses.

Maybe a look into window replacement or repair is in order, too.

Back in Portland, bribery and first week of school.

Time to get ready for school.

First stop, Modern Man Barber Shop on Alberta. Their regular place was closed for a picnic (because it's Portland, it's not weird), and I promised Ice Cream in exchange for haircuts. This place screams manly man. Whiskey room, taxidermy, Maxim magazine, punching bag, and bratwurst - otherwise known as the Alpha Male hangout.

http://themodernmanpdx.com/

The Modern Man specializes in both a traditional and a hipster look. If your son is ready for his first shave ever, this is a great place to go. It's a ritualistic experience, as evidenced by any man sitting in a barber chair. All business.

Goodbye, Fabio jr., Hello, American preschooler.

My daughter, who was supposed to get a trim, because she plans to be Rapunzel and have hair to the ground, ended up with layers all over. I was speechless and horrified as it was happening. But had to keep a smile on my face because she was reading my face the entire time to see my reaction. All that hair, on the ground. In the end, I will say that it's super flattering and much easier to maintain. But I will not be making a wig for myself out of her hair now, and for that, the barber shop owes me big time. I also think it's time to make an appointment for myself at this place, soon. 

This is how I got the kids to do it:

First Grader gift from mom. Bought an antique entry table on Craig's List for about $150 (if you had seen the before, you would say $50 max), then had a local guy who is an expert in French Polish, refinish the table. I added some thrift store "princess" lamps and the baby blanket my sister knitted for my daughter. Pretty nice, don't you think?

I'm going to give this guy a plug. He did a phenomenal job for such a reasonable price, and he truly loves his antiques. He ironed down the veneer that was buckling, pulled off all the dull varnish and completely polished this baby. He refers to furniture as "she" and "her". No question he loves his craft. Please tell him I sent you!

Wouldn't you say this is better than new?

Bello Antico
Michael Cowan
(503) 997-5335
belloantico@comcast.net


Tried to make more plum jam, but I literally spend hours at the stove for something that ends up more like sauce or syrup. Either I need to make peace with pectin or give up.


Had a date night with some friends at Ava Gene's. I believe this is the #5 best new restaurant in America right now, according to Bon Appetit, and super hard to get into. Because our friends are regulars (as in every single weekend), they were able to add 2 to the table. Yay, Jill! I love you!

Another fabulous and successful restaurant by Duane Sorenson of Stumptown Coffee. Everything he touches turns to gold.

http://www.avagenes.com/

While we were at dinner, we saw a Blutbad (from Grimm) at the bar. So exciting! Hello Monroe! We are going to stare at you the entire meal! Poor guy, we tried to play it cool...

We ended the weekend down the street at a block party. Potluck, closed street, kids everywhere, making memories.

This land is your land, it is not my land

After a morning hike up to the grassy slope, my husband and I discovered something interesting under the tall tree at the top of the hill.

There appeared to be a plastic hunting lookout facing North with two chairs inside.

Soon after, our neighbor stopped by to show us some images from a cam he has set up in his forest. Lo and behold, images of wandering hunters, bears, elk, possum, and deer. 

When we got down the hill, there was a man who introduced himself. He informed us that he is a hunter and that he has always hunted in our forest and would like to continue.

I had a little problem with that and grilled him like a schoolboy.

"Do you drink when you hunt?"
"When exactly do you hunt?"
"How long is hunting season?"
then
"I have a bit of a problem with it. I have small children. I know people who have died in hunting accidents."

In the meantime, he was offering to take my husband through the forest, on fishing trips, on hunting trips, etc.

When your desire to do something new clashes with your ideals, which road do you take?

I was so mad. Are there going to be random bullets whizzing by us on our own property? Our idealistic version of our American dream was being shattered right before our eyes.

Here is a perfectly nice, responsible man wanting to hunt on our land that we worked hard to acquire, to kill beautiful creatures that I want to peacefully coexist with.

In the meantime, our neighbor clearly showed us that people will be there whether we agree to it or not.

Another neighbor suggested we barter for the meat.

In the end, we called and put an end to it. Please remove your hunting stand from our picnic spot. No trespassing signs will come up. Soon.

Happy Anniversary to US - 7 years and going strong and a trip to the forest

The next morning, with our friends gone, we invited our new neighbors over for breakfast. We made shakes from ice cubes, white peaches, plums, and grapes, and cooked up some eggs and biscuits.

After breakfast, we went back to plum picking. The kids are so helpful.

Then we headed up the mountain to the forest. I was ready to see what lies beyond the tree line. I was confident that there are no bears in that forest, because everyone told me so.

What they did warn me about, is the proliferation of Poison Oak. It's everywhere. If I rent some goats and set them free in the forest, will they come back?

As we were heading through the trail, I couldn't believe that we were the owners of all this land. It felt like a fairy tale. Lush, green, trees everywhere. I also felt a great need to garden it - to clear all the dead brush and make it cleaner. I also realized how much of the land we bought is extremely sloped mountainside. I guess we really didn't buy 45 acres, it's more like 20 acres with a forested mountainside. If I had hiked this forest before, would it have changed my mind? Maybe, but I think I would have been sorry if we were not here now.

As we rounded the bend, suddenly two large animals ran up from below. At first I thought they were peacocks, but soon realized they were giant, goofy wild turkeys. They stopped, took one look at us, and hightailed it out of there. I think one of them even yelled, "oh shit!"

After we made it down the hill, our favorite babysitter showed up. She was going to watch the kids that night, and do the cross channel swim the next day. A 1-1/2 mile swim across the Columbia River from Washington to Oregon. Impressive!

http://hoodriver.org/events-festivals/chamber-events/cross-channel-swim

First thing we did was head down to Doppio for some coffee shakes. Yum Yum. After a hard day on the farm, it's our go-to drink.

Then we took in a little SUP on the Columbia.

It was our anniversary and Jesse had made reservations at 3 Rivers Cafe, a very charming restaurant in an old house with expansive decking overlooking the Columbia River. It has a great atmosphere and a friendly staff. I think we would return for drinks sometime. Deckside on a summer night and the cozy bar on a cold, winter night.

After dinner, we went to a local park that overlooks the river. Under a gazebo, we sat by a trio playing old time music and singing. It was the perfect atmosphere for a romantic night out.

Then we headed down to a local bar for some live music. It's called River City Saloon, and boy did we find the party! Super awesome cover band. I wish I could remember the name of the band, but they're local and they brought the party. We watched wedding party after wedding party walk in dancing and ready to go. So fun!

http://www.rivercitysaloon.com/band-calendar.html

Plum Overload.

I don't mean to complain about the bounty of the land, but while the guys were removing the tree (no roots!), Jesse discovered another plum tree. I think between the two, we have 1000 plums. I should have been excited, but after a week of juicing, blending, canning, and freezing, I was realizing just a small bit of the work that's involved in farming.

We gave some away at the end of the road, gave some to neighbors, invited friends to come take, and came back with a cooler full to give to Portland neighbors. Next year we will be prepared!

Plums don't travel well, so I'm not sure it's the right crop to send to the food bank, but giving back a percentage of the yield will be a high priority as we get more organized.

We spent the next day with our Portland friends exploring the land and eating fruit to our hearts content. The second plum tree proved to be a great climbing tree, and we climbed as high as we could go to pick plums.

In the meantime, the farmer was getting ready for the next Harvest. D'Anjou, I believe. It's funny. I haven't had one pear since we moved here. Everything else has been fair game, but for some reason, the pears don't interest me. I like pears, I think maybe it's the sheer volume that's intimidating.

Look who I found hanging out on the trampoline...

M drew me a picture and made a shooting star from a leaf and flower...

Jesse busted up another stump,

Our friends found animal bones in the forest and my son enjoyed playing with them (I HOPE they're animal bones),

We picked more grapes,

And harvested those seeds.

Then my friend came out, saw what we were doing, and informed me that the plants are poisonous. So the kids went inside to wash hands, I prayed that I didn't poison them, felt very itchy, and googled the plant name.

Skin irritation is the worst I came up with, which caused me to feel even itchier. There's a lesson there.

Then we headed to Double Mountain with our friend Jeff, who came down for the day.

We closed out the day with smores over a firepit and said goodbye to our friends.