Archives for category: House

PEI Gardening Tips (from a Novice)

August 16, 10 //

Cameron seems to think it’s my duty to tell you what’s going on in our garden. Therefore I share my PEI gardening tips from yours truly, a novice in the vegetable garden.

Already we’ve learned a lot for next year when it comes to growing vegetables.Here are my PEI gardening tips from an idiot. Please feel free to correct me.

1. The growing season on PEI is relatively short, so you may want to start seeds indoors or in a greenhouse, which we didn’t this year because of our distastrous results last year.

2. Get your plants in sooner rather than later. I thought we should wait for June 1st-ish, but I have come to learn that many people seem to plant quite a few seeds and seedlings outdoors here on Easter weekend.

3. Potato bugs are evil and they eat your potato plants! If you have a lot of space plant your potatoes far away from the rest of your veggie patch because those potato bugs are scary. Be sure to harvest your potatoes before the bugs get ‘em.

4. Weeds are a problem. What the…?? How does one deal with the weeds?? To be determined.

5. What is with broccoli and cauliflower?? They won’t grow heads?? They are just all…leaves?

6. Kale is a fast grower. Lettuce is a slow grower.

7. Resist the temptation to pull up your carrots before they’re big. You’ll regret it if you don’t! (Can you just put them back in the dirt? I doubt it, but it’s worth asking, ok. I said I was a newbie!)

8. Beans are delicious and easy to grow! Pick and sprinkle with herbs = healthy chips.

9. Get your seeds from Vesey ’s Seeds. And order them from the catologue because it’s more much fun that way. Preferably take your seed catalogue with you to public places and circle your preferred varietals with a big juicy Sharpie marker. Onlookers will think you’re a hippie.

10. Your corn will grow more slowly than the corn fields that surround your neighbourhood. Try to curtail your jealousy when passing others’ fields. Take deep breaths and repeat, “They are professionals. They are professionals.”

11. Weeding your garden is a perfectly pleasant way to spend a Friday evening (well, the first Friday evening was pleasant.. But the novelty has worn off, I must admit!)

There you have it, my incredibly random PEI gardening tips from my heart to yours.

Window Treatments

July 29, 10 //

Did you know that when you live in the country you don’t need curtains or blinds on your windows?

Outside it’s just the birds and the trees. And why would you need blinders from that?

Whimfield Mud Pit

June 3, 10 //

Our house has been lowered back down onto the new foundation now, and all is looking good for the foundation project thus far.

However, due to the construction of our new foundation, we pretty much tore up our entire lawn, which is not a big deal in and of itself. However, it’s been very rainy over the past few days, and our house is now surrounded by thick, oozy mud. It’s a mess, and walking from house to car is an adventure!

I am just thankful that it didn’t rain much throughout the time that the foundation was being put in (unlike Olivia and her crazy adventures with babes in tow). I just remember when we were trying to shingle our roof during a rainy season, and memories of battling and cursing the rain all come rushing back to me.

Thankfully the weather gods were good to us this time. It’s what I always say, the church of 50/50: half the time things are good and half the time things are bad. When they’re good, appreciate it. And when they’re bad, know that better times they are a-coming.

Pouring a Concrete Foundation Under an Old House

May 23, 10 //

Oh, to be a blogger. To tell stories as they unfold. To keep you in my pocket as we ride this adventure that is life. To tell you, “Today I” and “This morning we” and “We’re about to.” It all takes courage, don’t you know?

But, you see, I am not that brave. I delay stories a little. I usually don’t write here until the wost is over. That way you don’t have to come down to the depths of despair with me. Instead, I can say, “We did XYZ, but, don’t worry, everything turned out just fine.” (I have no desire to give anyone, especially my parents, heart palpitations brought on by worry. Besides, I worry enough for the rest of us!)

So now that the worst is over of our foundation project, I can come here and report, “It was crazy but we survived it!” It’s certainly not over, but the foundation has been poured and so far everything’s looking as good as could be expected at this point.

Since I last wrote, a giant hole was dug underneath our house.

Then, Cameron built footings (cement pads on which the new walls will rest upon).

Once the footings were complete, hollow wooden walls had to be built, which would later be filled with concrete.

Once the hollow walls were up (concrete “forms” they’re called), then we called the cement truck and thousands of dollars worth of wet cement was dumped into the hollow wooden walls. Then, we removed the temporary wooden walls, which reveal the finished product, cement walls on which the house will sit.

We still need to have the house lowered down about a foot so that the house will sit on the new concrete walls. This should happen this coming week.

The project has gone pretty smoothly, although, like any big project, there were low points. But nothing a new inspirational quotes couldn’t handle. (Inspirational quotes are very important to this household!)

One of the most important lessons learned thus far is that you can never accomplish anything on your own. No matter what you’re working on, you need inspiration, encouragement, tips, wisdom and helping hands. This project has had a lot of everything I’ve just listed, and for the people who have stopped by to share wisdom and work we are deeply grateful.

Jacking Up A House

May 4, 10 //

On Monday morning our house looked like this. See the photo above? Normal house. Almost level to the ground.Monday afternoon, steel girders were slipped underneath the house… See above?And by Monday evening, the house was jacked up in the air and dangling four feet above the ground.

Thankfully, like the driveway project, we’ve recruited experts to help us with this jacking-up-the-house phase. (But, of course, Cameron is still involved.)

When I’ve mentioned in passing conversation that we’re jacking up our house, onlookers tend to ask me where we’re staying while the house is dangling in the air.

“Um, were still living there, of course,” I answer.

In all honesty, it never dawned on me to do anything else.

We just use a ladder to get in.

Obstacles Will Forever Be Obstacles until Dealt With

February 28, 10 //

We heat our house solely with wood. We keep a week’s worth of firewood on hand in a bin near the door.

Weekly, as the firewood bin starts to look empty, there are a few stragglers at the bottom of the bin. There’s a rotten piece, a skinny piece that’s way too long to fit inside the wood-stove, and there is one big chunky piece, which we’ve already tried to jam into the wood-stove a couple of times to no avail.

You see, this chunky piece of firewood has a nub protruding out of its top. Because of this protruding nub, no matter which way we spun this odd-shaped piece of firewood it just wouldn’t go in. Unlike the last time, it was simply impossible to get this piece inside the wood-stove.

After attempting to jostle it into the wood-stove, we’d sigh, haul the irregular piece back to the bin, and throw it back inside the wood-bin–to be dealt with at another time.

Every week, as the firewood supply in the bin grew low, old nubby would still be there, jammed in the bottom of the wood-bin–last to be picked, never wanted, not quite right.

Well, I guess Cameron got sick of looking at old nubby in the bottom of the bin, because today old nubby got surgery on the hearth. Old nubby’s protruding nub was removed, and old nubby finally went up in smoke to keep us warm.

Thanks, old nubby. I won’t say that I’ll miss you, because I’m glad you’re no longer sitting forlornly at the bottom of our wood-bin. But at least you will forever be commemorated in this eulogy.

Cold Winter Morning

December 31, 09 //

Sometimes I have occasion to drive to Charlottetown, PEI’s capital, to do business. And sometimes I have to show up there for 8:30am. In the winter, an 8:30am appointment in Charlottetown sees my morning as follows. There’s no jaw-dropping twist to this story; the following is just a simple scene from my simple life.

I am sleeping. The wind is howling and the snow is blowing outside, but inside our house the woodstove keeps us so toasty that we’re sleeping nothing save our pyjamas and a sheet.

My alarm goes off. I am jolted awake, and I scramble off the end of the bed (I’m jammed on the wall side and Cameron gets the aisle seat). I head to the windowsill to turn off the alarm. In utter darkness, I make my way out of the bedroom by feel and by sheer familiarity.

I immediately head downstairs, still groggy and half asleep. I head to the back hall. I fish around in the pile of coats and curling pants and scarves, looking for my snowpants. I find them, and I pull the snowpants on over top of my pyjamas. I look for my warmest down jacket and slip it on. A scarf, toque, and mittens are quickly added to my outfit, and I grab the flashlight from its very important home near the back door. I slip on some once-stylish-now-turned-farm-boots-due-to-salt-damage. I’m not wearing any socks.

I grab the snow shovel, and I slip out the backdoor. By this time it’s 5:20am, but it is still utterly pitch-black outside, the sun still asleep like Cameron upstairs. I survey our car in the beam of my flashlight. The windshield and side windows are covered in snow. I start scraping and clearing the windshield, still half asleep.

The car clean, I shine my beam down the long driveway. I can only see a few feet ahead of me, so I always walk the length of the whole driveway–about the length of a football field–checking how deep my sockless-boot-clad feet sink into the powdery snow. Too deep and I’ll have to wake up Cameron and get him to blow the driveway with the tractor. Not too deep and I’ll just clear the problem drifts with my shovel.

I bumble along shining the flashlight back and forth, poking snowdrifts with my salt-stained boots. Occasionally, I’ll stop to shovel an uncharacteristically deep spot where the snow has blown and settled. I get to the end of the driveway where it meets the road. Because of the lay of the land, this spot’s the worst. I spend most of my time shoveling this area. The wind blows my hood off, and I’m glad I took the time to wear my toque. My nose is starting to feel cold. I shovel some more.

Thanks to my shoveling, I deem the driveway now clear enough to be passed by our 4×4 vehicle. I head back to the house, looking forward to a hot shower.

I crank the “H” tap as far as it’ll go, and I’m thankful for our plumbing work. The shower could use a good scrubbing, but I dismiss that thought as soon as it enters my mind. In the shower, I start planning what I should wear. I’ve got a few clothes laying on the spare bedroom bed. Hopefully I won’t change my mind about my outfit and have to creep back into our dark bedroom and grovel around in the closet trying not to wake the still-sleeping Cam. Closet groveling in the dark always takes longer than you think it will and nothing is ever where you think it is.

Finally, dressed and ready for the day, I plan to make a smoothie for breakfast. A banana, an apple, some cranberries, some lettuce, and some mint. I load the blender, and I cringe as I crank the blender all the way to high. Poor Cameron, I can envision him with his head under the pillow gritting his teeth until our Vitamix blender–which sounds like a dentist’s drill being amplified by a megaphone–is quiet again.

I take my smoothie up to my computer, and I do “the rounds,” as I call them. I check my email, check Whimfield, check in at PEITalk, and read some of my favourite blogs. I may or may not also check my website statistics about seven times a minute.

I watch the clock. By now, it’s almost seven. Time to get going if I want to have a pleasant, slow drive into town to get to where I need to go for 8:30am. The drive can be done in less than an hour, but I give myself an extra half-hour of wiggle room. I hate to keep people waiting.

I grab my coat, purse, and briefcase. I throw my hood up, and I race in heels from the warm house to the cold car. It’s a 1982 Landcruiser–the same age as me. When I’ve got to be somewhere important, I always think a quick, “Come on car… Don’t fail me now” thought as I press the glow plugs and wait for the old beast to chug alive on the cold winter morning. Invariably, she starts fine. I then think, “Good girl. You never fail me.” and I give the dashboard a loving pat.

By this time, the sun is starting to rise. I can see a warm glow rising across our neighbours’ fields. I sit in the car, letting the engine warm up a little. I don’t even try to turn the heat on; the old car won’t actually generate any feelable heat for another twenty minutes or so. I reflect on my calm, plodding morning. Once past the groggy state, it’s nice to be awake before the sun rises. It makes me feel alive. (Shoveling snow at 5:30am will do that to you.)

Some Peoples’ Idea of Relaxation

November 22, 09 //

It’s late morning. Sunday. We’ve had breakfast, and we’re sitting in our home office, looking at each other from our desks.

I’m still wearing my pyjamas and big floppy white socks. We’re both splayed out on our office chairs, facing each other. My legs are sprawled out in front of me; my posture is atrocious.

“I’ve got a lot of work I’ve got to do today,” I say. “What are you going to do today. It is Sunday, you know.”

“I think I’m just going to relax today.” He says. “Maybe I’ll lay on the couch.”

“That sounds great,” I say. “A perfect Sunday.”

He wanders downstairs. I hear the couch squeak. (It’s an old couch.)

I start typing on my computer. Half an hour later, I hear the couch squeak again, and I hear the screen door slam.

A few hours after that, I go outside looking for Cameron.

He’s outside, replacing a screened in window with shingles.

“What are you doing?!” I yell. “I thought you were going to relax!!” I glare up at Cameron, who’s sitting in the tractor bucket and leaning, hammer in hand, against the side of the house.

He looks sheepish. “I don’t know… There are things that needed to be done.” He says.

I throw up my hands, exasperated, because I want him to take a little time for himself.

But inside my heart, I do realize that the only reason we can do what we’re doing is because of the way he defines things. To him, relaxing means getting things done.

Not that I’m complaining. It’s just that, well, to me “relaxing” means lying on the squeaky couch ALL DAY LONG. And there is just no other way to look at it.

Country Driveway Gets a Face Lift

October 28, 09 //

We’ve done everything ourselves with our own hands.

We sold our urban condo without a realtor. We drove across Canada hauling all our junk in our own trailer (in the middle of Winter) and moved across the country. We bought a house with no advice. We replumbed the entire house. We reshingled the steep roof. We carried out buckets and buckets of old plaster. We carried in and hung over 100 sheets of drywall. We puttied. We painted. We tiled. We cleared snow. We carried a 500 pound wood-stove. We’ve done it all.

But there comes a time when you need to ask for help. And we did. When it came to our driveway, we needed help.

Oh, we tried to deal with our driveway ourselves. Cameron used our tractor to eliminate the bumps and muddiness. Our few attempts only made the driveway worse; it was bumpier, ruttier, and softer than ever.

So we asked for help. We called in the big guns. I was happy. We’ve got a lot on the go and anything that frees up Cam’s time is a good thing.

But, for Cameron, it was hard. He likes to do things himself; he likes to be in control. He wants projects done to his standards on his schedule. After much cajoling from my part, Cam agreed that we should hire a local company to improve our driveway. All Cameron could do was look on. It was hard for him.

But these guys knew what they were doing. They arrived with huge equipment and got to work. Cam looked on from the sidelines.

What would have taken him weeks with our equipment was done in a matter of hours. It was exciting to see the experts in action.

Once the project was almost complete, I was inside the house while Cameron and the crew were outside. Suddenly the screen door slammed and work-boots clomped up the stairs two at a time. It was a breathless Cameron.

“They need an extra body to drive some equipment down the road!” He said. “I’m going to be driving a huge piece of equipment down the road!!”

I paused, then said, “Did you tell them that you’ve never driven anything like that before?”

“Yes, but they didn’t seem to mind.”

I laughed, grabbed my camera, and followed him outside.

After a crash course in Heavy Equipment 101, he was driving the giant loader on our property.

Soon enough I was waving from the end of our driveway and watching a parade of yellow machines fade off into the distance, with Cameron bringing up the rear in the giant loader.

From then on Cameron relaxed, and the driveway project was a success.

This whole episode leads me to wonder, “Why couldn’t we have hired people to do everything??”

But, as Cameron points out, you’ve got to know when to do it yourself and when to ask for help. Our financial freedom has been based on Cameron’s knowledge, gung-ho, and willingness to do work himself. Without his willingness to learn and do, we couldn’t possibly be living how we’re living. That being said, there’s always a time to ask for help, and the trick is to recognize the time and not be too stubborn to act on it.

A Frog in the Hand

October 12, 09 //

I was upstairs, inside, thundering away on my keyboard. Fingers flying, ideas flowing.

I heard Cameron calling my name from outside. I opened the window in our office and hung my head out Rapunzel-style. Looking down, I saw Cameron smiling up at me, saying “Frog, I’ve got a frog!”

I smiled and bent my head back inside the house. I scooped up my camera. I craned my neck out of the window again. He was still standing there, smiling.

I took this picture. I then retracted my Rapunzel hair and faded back into the house and began thundering away on my keyboard. Fingers flying, ideas flowing.

PS: This post reminds me of another frog I watched up close. And it also reminds me of another day when I got called outside for a different reason.