Archives for the month of: March, 2009

Last Piece of Drywall

March 29, 09 //

When we purchased our house, the walls were covered in 100-year-old plaster instead of gyproc (also known as drywall). We stripped the plaster off of every wall (like this) and hung new drywall/gyproc.

We finished stripping the old plaster off a long time ago, but putting up 120 sheets of drywall has taken almost a year.

The photo above is Cameron cutting the very last piece of drywall outside on a sunny day.

We were very happy.

There’s still a lot of painting to do, floors to install, and a kitchen to build, but we must savour these small moments. That’s what blogging is all about.

Dish Washing Tips

March 22, 09 //

About a year ago, we tore our kitchen apart during our home renovation, and we still haven’t put it back together yet.

We haven’t installed kitchen counters, a kitchen sink, or kitchen cabinets. As a result, we’re still washing dishes upstairs in the bathroom sink. It has been going on for so long now that it’s our “normal.”

To keep things simple, we only own four bowls, three plates, three mugs, and a smattering of cutlery. By having so few dishes, we’re forced to wash a bowl or spoon before a dish-backlog builds up in the “to be washed” zone. It’s a simple system, but it works well for us.

Even still, we get behind with the dishes and end up eating cereal out of a mug. No system is perfect!

Spring Thaw on Prince Edward Island

March 20, 09 //

Today is the first day of Spring here on Prince Edward Island. The Montague river has almost completely thawed, and we are starting to notice significant changes here on our property.

In February, we knew there was a picnic table buried somewhere under the snow.

But now, in mid-March, the picnic table has been revealed.

Pretty soon we’ll be able to see green, green grass sprouting up through the straw-like remains of last year’s lawn.

For me, I was so worried about getting through this Winter that the cold season seemed to go quickly: “Winter, is that all? Are you really almost over? But our water pipes underneath the house didn’t freeze. And we didn’t run out of firewood. And we didn’t encounter any severe disasters! Are you sure you’re finished, Winter?”

What about you. Are you ready for Winter’s end?

Blaze King Princess: Eyes Bigger than Woodstove

March 16, 09 //

Cameron was already asleep upstairs, so it was definitely my duty to shut the house down for the evening. Specifically, this included making sure the woodstove was full to ensure a nice, long, overnight burn.

The woodstove was two-thirds full; it needed another log or two to be added to the stove before I could leave it for the night.

A normal person would simply open the door to the porch and bring a log or two inside to add to the fire. It wouldn’t be that hard. It’s, like, a four-second trip: open the exterior door, reach into the wood-box, and pull out the nearest log or two. It doesn’t even require going out into the elements. Easy.

But the wrench in my wood-burning routine was the giant, over-sized mother-of-all logs that happened to be sitting on the hearth right next to the woodstove. It was calling to me.

The evil half of my brain commanded, “Even though that log isn’t going to fit, just try to jam it inside anyway, Laura-Jane. Just try it. Won’t it be easier to try to shove that giant piece of firewood in an already-almost-full woodstove rather than take four-seconds to get an average-sized piece? Please, just give it a shot. Come on, you know you want to try it.”

Meanwhile the wise part of my brain was pleading softly, almost inaudibly, “Don’t do it. Are you crazy? That piece of firewood will never fit. Just slip some shoes on and get a smaller piece already. Please? It’ll be quicker in the long-run…”

I opened the woodstove’s hatch. I contemplated for a moment.

Even though I could faintly hear the soft whispers of the wise brain (”No, it’s impossible. Just forget about the monster piece.”), my evil brain compelled me to reach for the monster piece–that tempting giant tree-trunk.

I got the monster piece of firewood part-way in, and the hot coals started to consume it immediately. Of course, it didn’t fit; the monster piece just hung out of the woodstove like a mischievous tongue, gloating at me.

I took the poker and jabbed at the monster piece for a number of seconds. It didn’t budge. It still wouldn’t fit.

I contemplated my options. I poked harder and I moved some coals around. The monster piece of firewood still didn’t fit in. I couldn’t close the woodstove’s hatch.

Now, of course, the wise voice got louder. “I told you it was impossible,” the wise voice lectured. “You didn’t listen, and now look what happened. Giant firewood tongue is burning, crackling, and laughing at you.”

After a good six minutes of whining, poking, prodding, cursing, shoving and teeth gritting, the monster piece was finally in.

Moral

When we first got our Blaze King Princess woodstove, it was a new-born babe.

Now our woodstove is a seasoned veteran, and she’s teaching me to treat her with respect.

The woodstove has taught me to listen to my wise inner voice, even when it speaks so quietly I pretend it’s not there. Because in the end, the quiet wise voice always gets louder, and it’s the other voice that fades away.

Picking Paint Colors

March 10, 09 //

Picking paint colors is the most exciting part of home renovation, especially when your home renovation has taken a room through many stages of craziness.

The act of applying the first coat of colorful paint to a completely white-walled house is like a young couple seeing each other for the first time on prom night.

All the work has been done: he asked her to prom. She said yes. He’s rented the tux, shaved, and gelled his hair. She’s chosen her dress and had her nails done. Now, at this moment, he’s pinning the corsage to her dress and they’re smiling at each other. This is what that first coat of colorful paint means to me.

First, there’s the initial invitation. He sees her. She’s a little unkempt, but he has a vision. She’ll look fabulous in a backless dress.

After she says yes, he ignores her for a little while just to make sure he has the upper-hand.

Eventually, she heads to the dress-shop and stands naked in front of the mirror.

She puts on a crinoline and a slip.

There are so many dresses to choose from…

She settles on a design and the seamstress gets to work.

She tentatively tries on the dress. At first, she feels a little silly and over-done.

But soon enough she warms up to her reflection in the mirror. “This is the real me,” she thinks.

And on prom night, he drives to her house to pick her up. She looks beautiful and they’re both smiling.

Picking paint colors and applying that first coat of paint makes me giddy. This room was one of the three bedrooms, and it will be our office when it’s complete.

Hanging Laundry in Winter

March 5, 09 //

Hanging laundry in winter out in the elements wasn’t something I gave much thought to when we lived in the city.

But I fondly remember our cross-country trip when we left an urban city in favour of country living. It was on that trip that I saw that many people hang laundry outside in the middle of winter–even when snow abounds. This was something I’d never considered, and seeing the clothes hanging outside made me smile. It made me think about the people living inside the thousands of houses we passed during our 28-day winter road trip.

On cold sunny days, the usually-colorful clothes flapping in the wind were happy reminders of the simple pleasures of home.

The clothes were also reminders of having somewhere to go home to, period. Of having a warm place to head home to after a long, bad day. A place to pad around in wearing sock-feet. A place to store your old photographs and favourite scarves. A place to hang your laundry.

You see, because we had left our old life behind and were traveling toward a new home of some kind (although we hadn’t purchased a new home yet), we were living in our car and were basically homeless. Being without a warm spot and a place to hang your laundry sure gave me an appreciation for such simple pleasures.

Yesterday, as I walked through the snow to hang a few pieces of laundry on the line, I remembered those first sights of overloaded clotheslines.

It’s simple things like hanging laundry outdoors during winter that reminds me of the excitement I used to feel when dreaming about moving here and living this life. It’s so easy to get into routine, even here and now as we’re living our dream. But I try hard to conjure up those feelings and dreams that I used to have and appreciate where we are and what we’re doing.

In case you were wondering whether I have smartened up with my laundry skills compared to my last laundry story, unfortunately, I am still who I am. I still make the same bad choices when it comes to laundry.

Here’s my laundry in a snowstorm.

Benefits of Blogging

March 2, 09 //

1. You meet wonderful people. Sometimes you only ever know them in the digital world, and that’s OK. Sometimes, you meet in person, and it’s exciting!

2. You can look back on your life and say, “Wow, I did that?” Or, “What was I thinking??” Or “Oh my, I’d forgotten about that!”

3. You meet random people on the street who say, “Excuse me, aren’t you, um, Whimfield?”

4. If you have children, you can pass on your blog as your eternal legacy. (Never delete any blog posts. Never!)

5. Blogging can inspire you to get out and do things. I swear, if I didn’t blog, I’d just stay home and drink lemonade. But I need something to write about, so sometimes I do more than just drink lemonade.

6. Blogging forces you to reflect on your life as a whole.

7. Blogging is fun, even though sometimes it feels like a chore. Especially when you set a silly schedule like inspiration Mondays!

8. Blogging is addictive. I started in year 2001 and I can’t stop. My first blog was hot pink. This is what it looked like. (I am serious. This is the real thing.)

9. You know that you love blogging when you go back and laugh at your own jokes that you wrote five years ago. There is nothing more pleasureful than that.

Why aren’t you blogging, pray tell? Or if you are, where are you blogging (and why)? Favourite blogs? Is there a difference between blogging and journaling? Are bloggers narcissists?

Because I was getting all nostalgic, I was reviewing my old blog, and I found this. I enjoyed re-reading it, so here it is:

Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2004 (1:43 a.m.)

Now, I don’t particularly keep track of such things, but, for quite some time now, I have been aware that my 500th entry has been fast approaching. Now that it is finally here, I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.

Perhaps I shall simply conduct a fake interview:

Interviewer: Laura-Jane, thank you so much for inviting me to meet with you today, inside your private luxury skull. It’s so roomy and airy here–very rococo, yet avant garde. Fantastic.

Laura-Jane: Why, thank you, Interviewer.

Interviewer: Let’s get started, shall we?

Laura-Jane: Certainly. [Laughs] [Editor's Note: Laura-Jane apparently laughs nervously during every awkward pause imaginable--a fact which she candidly confided in last month's "Giant Forehead Pimples" edition of The Nervous Political Science Majors Who Cannot Speak in Public Weekly.]

Interviewer: Okay Laura-Jane. Tell me a little about how you first got started in The Industry.

Laura-Jane: Well, Interviewer, it’s just your average story really… In 2001, I began maintaining my own webpage (http://laura-jane.n3.net), which, for some reason, I insisted on displaying in a disturbingly vibrant pink, but that is beyond the point.

Eventually, I somehow found the need to begin rambling on about myself, and the rest is, well, you know, history.

Interviewer: Fascinating. At the time, did you have grandiose aspirations of one day reaching your 500th entry?

Laura-Jane: Not at all, Interviewer. What the point of all of this is, I am still not entirely certain. Initially, I imagine that writing here was merely a substitute for sharing my inane thoughts and stories with friends, because, well, I didn’t have any friends to share them with. At the time, I most definitely wrote just for myself. Bear in mind, that for the first year or two, the number of people who actually found themselves at my page was terribly small; although, at the time, I didn’t particularly mind that no one was the least bit interested. (Looking back, I cannot blame them!)

Similarly, as my relationship with Cameron was beginning to really play a prominent role in my life, I wanted to ensure that I remembered what it had been like as I was progressing through it. Growing up, I have been frustrated by my own memories, in that the edges blur together and nothing can ever be remembered as it truly was. Every moment, we are thinking, wondering, worrying! And yet, our inner-most thoughts from ten years ago…can you remember yours? Thus, I do my best to try to circumvent my own inadequacy, using the one option with which I am familiar.

Furthermore [Editor's Note: Apparently, Laura-Jane uses 'furthermore' in everyday conversations. Sadly, we here at The Industry have discovered that this is actually true. She particularly uses this term when making well-heeled points during arguments.], I have a tendency to race through my life without stopping to think or ponder what it is that I am doing, how fast the time is flying, or the decisions that I am making. Writing entries here, however monotonous they might seem, prompts me to sit and reflect on where my life has led–and is now leading.

Blogging has now become a large part of who I am. Whether I will be around for a 600th, I am not at all certain. A 1000th? Yikes! At this stage, there is no end in sight. I have wondered what I would do should
Cameron and I cease to be together–print out a copy for myself, a copy for him, and delete the rest, I should think. Logically, I suppose I would start a new blog, but who knows. (And without Cam’s computer expertise? Egads!) Although, if I didn’t write, I am not sure what I would do with myself.

Interviewer: Intriguing, Laura-Jane… Long-winded–yet intriguing. And what do you think about any onlookers who happen upon your page?

Laura-Jane: Well, I adore and cherish them.

You might be aware, Interviewer, that outside of The Industry, I am inept. I do not do well with friends, nor do they seem to do well with me.

No one speaks to me.

Gets my jokes.

Reaches out.

Wonders what I think.

But here, it is different. Because people do.

The fact that I wouldn’t recognize the majority of them if we sat next to one another on a bus is wholly secondary. And the one’s I would–and do–recognize, I consider the truest of friends.

Interviewer: Do you really believe that? What would you say to someone who disagreed about the nature of ‘online’ friendships?

Laura-Jane: Perhaps they are right, but what does it matter? In myself I recognize a need for social interaction, acceptance and friendship, and I am absolutely fulfilled by what goes on here. Beyond that, who is to say?

Interviewer: How quaint.

Laura-Jane: Indeed.

Interviewer: Readers of The Industry–available now at your local newstand for a one-time, introductory price!–want to know, how many times per day do you check your comments/guestbook/sitemeter/notes?

Laura-Jane: [Clears throat] Orange juice, anyone?

Interviewer: Now, Laura-Jane…

Laura-Jane: Um, I’m not entirely sure why you wanted to interview me in the first place, because this whole decision, I am beginning to realize, was a terrible, horrible idea.

Out, Damn Interviewer!

Interviewer stands up. Clutches her purse. Exits brain left.