Life's a Stitch

Renovations require decisions based on tiny samples. Think little squares of counter tops, paint chips and rectangles of flooring. In our case it all worked out…except for the main floor powder room. The one most used by visitors. I was expecting a black background with random sparkly bits, but there were random miscommunications in this project, this one more notable than others.

It looks to me like black and grey speckled rock with hints of rust, splattered by a passing seagull. Quite appropriate, though, for a beach community. My daughter told me it didn’t look too bad in general, but the white splotches looked like toothpaste spit. Lovely.

Where we really did well countertop wise, is in our walk-out basement suite. Despite discouragement from our builder, we reused the houses’s original kitchen cabinets along with its blue pearl granite counters. The island is on casters for the option of instantly changing the kitchen layout.

Those counters successfully survived removal, multiple relocations including a stint outside in the dead of winter, and recutting. Reusing them cost less than installing Formica. Wish there had been enough for the powder room.

Personalities come through with the pressure of a move. C’s full of dread and terror accompanied by my optimism. For awhile, anyway. The morning started with dropping him off at storage to get things organized for the movers.

Can you imagine, this was the third time in twenty months that we’ve hired movers. First from the rain forest to our new community in White Rock, then moving our stuff into storage in time for our renovation. Now, eleven months later, back into the house.

I was feeling fine until the movers called in late and I realized Mr. C was without his phone. That’s when my panic set in, compounded by an army of last minute house workers taking up space that the movers required.

This story follows the formula for a screenplay. The set up and conflict part anyway. We’ll see how the resolution goes. You’ve read the set up. Now for the conflict: Although we had permission to move our household goods in, we are not permitted to stay in our almost totally renovated home. You see, based on a small gutter/drainage issue over two 18” side entry overhangs, and one misfitting glass deck panel, our house failed final inspection.

We weren’t going to let that set us back move-in wise, considering daughter M and KC came to help us from Calgary. All our stuff is in the house, hardly any of it unpacked, and as far as living there, we're on hold.

Here are the latest before and after pictures.

Can't believe it's the same house. I'm anxious to have it all done. I bet you are, too. And for those who are in the betting pool, April is now out, May and beyond are still possibilities. Dennis L, you still have a chance for June!

My lastest watercolour dog portrait is a 60th birthday gift for my sister. Her name and “60” are hidden in the blanket pattern. 

Her kids benefited from Mom’s 60th, too, as I had professional prints made for them. 

 

That’s how long it’s been sine we left our house in the rain forest. How do I know this? Every time I open my laptop it tells me how many days it’s been since its last backup. Fortunately there’s nothing crucial on there and the day count is coming to an end. Yes, the house is nearing completion.

Some people told us we were crazy, choosing a house requiring a total rebuild, with the overwhelming amount of requisite decision making. Right off the top of my head I can come up with many:  heating systems, lighting, plumbing fixtures, appliances, cabinets, flooring, doorknobs, cabinet pulls, towel bars, ceramic tile, siding, windows, countertops, closet shelving…but the one that caused the most anguish? The decision that produced the most hours of sleeplessness? 

Interior paint colours. It was a combination of too many choices and approaching a near breaking point with so many concurrent decisions. Further pressure was self imposed, not wanting the very common generic house tones of whites, light greys and beiges.

Reality check: paint is not permanent and this is, like all the rest, a first world problem.

Here is is, the official interior colour palette, minus a couple of vanities and the bathroom ceramic tiles.

With the current application of paint it looks as though the day count might max out prior to hitting 600.

Update: We did it! Move in date scheduled for day #592. 

"When I'm 64" and "They Say It's Your Birthday." There's only one year that both songs are relevant for anyone, and this Ides of March was the one for me. Thank you to all who communicated in the variety of ways available these days, so appreciated. 

64 is good, it's the countdown to 65, when in Canada, you become eligible for your Old Age Security benefit. They have to do something about that name. Unlike in the US, government benefits for seniors are split in two: Canada Pension Plan based on earnings, eligibility starting as early as age 60, and the Old Age Security, a universal benefit regardless of employment history. It's like getting a raise in retirement.

Dinner was with Blogless Marsha and Dave on a beautiful evening on the bay. We caught the early bird special at a local seafood restaurant, four courses for $24.99, followed by the three of them indulging me in evening geocaching.

That's what birthdays are for. It was also an opportunity for some nice phone shots over the harbour. These will morph into paintings as they fit in with my love of dark watercolours. 

 

If you google weathervane, the likely candidate to sit on top of one is a rooster. I found it unnerving to see one with a gun on top near us at our temporary place in in the US. When the wind is right it's aimed right at you. This is a photo of a similar one, didn't want to ruffle any neighbourhood feathers:

Should armed and fabulous be in the same sentence:

I know. If I don't like it I don't have to shop there. Enough said.

 

A few of my favourite things, HI continued:

You know what I'm going to say…a few more of my favourite things to do: hiking, geocaching and painting. Especially on a tropical isle.

Blogless Marsha's David took us on a "walk" in the neighbourhood where we were staying. The destination was the Queen's Bath and, bonus, it has an earthcache. Sounds innocent enough, a crystal clear natural pool along the shore, you can swim with tiny tropical fish and gentle sea turtles and get credit for a geocache.  Except in winter.

The walk down was treacherous, but I was well equipped with hiking sticks and appropriate shoes. Brand new shoes with bits of white on them. Kauai is known for their red dirt that is so colourfast, they sell famous t-shirts dyed in it. Get any  mud on your clothes, or new shoes, and accept the new colour pattern as your Kauaiian souvenir. 

As we approached the bottom we saw this sign with over 30 notches in it:

The rest of the way to the bath was over my favourite Hawaiian hiking surface, igneous lava rock. Remember when I had face-to-rock contact a number of years back, while geocaching on Maui? My Maui Owie. The lava always wins, said the doctor while stitching me up.

I continued with huge respect for the terrain, like walking on rock made of wet shards of glass. I know there's a pool here somewhere. 

We were later informed, by a local in-the-know, that the Queen's Bath is far too dangerous in the winter, rogue waves happening every couple of hours. Ignorance is bliss. We saw others hiking down in flip flops, carrying beer and a mug of coffee! Click here to see what it looks like in the summer.

Can't go away without some art supplies, resulting in two paintings. One was from an online still life tutorial and the other a hibiscus we passed on one of our walks, glistening with rain drops. 

Next post from "home." 

 

In these pictures you might think we're on the Camino in Spain.

 It was a five mile walk, longer than our usual ones, but another mile up past the mahagony forest this was the local scenery:

 Aloha! Located halfway around the world from Spain, we’re escaping winter by visiting friends, appreciating an opportunity to replay our trip to Princeville, Kauai from five years ago. The highpoint of this trip was that walk on the Wai Koa Loop Trail. It's free, mostly level and absolutely beautiful.

What an opportunity – a break from colder than usual weather, Marsha knitting in a stockinette stitch chair and me, cooking in the kitchen with that magnificent view. Then and now:

 

Opah (moonfish) grilled on a cedar plank.

A magical place. Most days we watched the rainbows and humpbacks right from our deck. The whales' breaching and fin/tail slapping were too fast for the iphone. Note to self: next time bring a real camera. You know, though, I'm also a fan of witnessing the moment sans photography. I've mentioned it before, committing the magic to memory rather than viewing it through a lens.

More to come.

I heard that there was an Andrew Wyeth exhibit at the SAM and discovered there were a few more days left before it closed and moved on. Wyeth was my watercolour drybrush inspiration since high school and this exhibit fulfilled a long held dream. It was easy to recruit Blogless Marsha to come along, unlike the time I coerced her into a Barry Manilow concert. She will admit to enjoying that, though. 

So started my 36 hour adventure. C dropped me at the Amtrak station at sunrise.

Sitting on the right side while travelling southbound, the scenery is beautiful.

Two and a half hours later I was in the heart of downtown Seattle.  The plan was to meet M at 3:00. In the meantime I got in a few miles of urban walking past Starbuck's headquarters, stopping for lunch for an authentic Cubano sandwich and tostones at Cafe Con Leche, geocaching at Outdoor Research's parking lot, then reaching my final destination of Daniel Smith, manufacturers of fine professional watercolours, many made from ground gemstones.

 

All my overnight items were contained in a full backpack so my purchases were limited. That's a good thing. Really, so many good experiences in a short period of time, there was no need to buy a thing, however, there was probably some drool left on the floor of DS. One of these days I'll spring for their turquoise paint made of stone from Arizona's Sleeping Beauty Turquoise mine.

The best was yet to come. Thanks to Uber I could spend more time at my stops and still meet M for our museum entry time. To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Wyeth's birth, this retrospective collection contained over 100 paintings. I'd guess a third were watercolour and 2/3's done in his egg tempera method. It was a rare opportunity to get close enough to see the actual brushstrokes.

 

One of my favourites was Maga's Daughter, a portrait of his wife, named in honour of his mother-in-law.

The exhibit wound through many rooms for an opportunity to see paintings I had only read about, and as I turned each corner, I waited for Christina's World, his most famous painting. Not to be. I found out that it lives permanently at NY's Metropolitan Museum of Art and is not planning on travelling. Not a problem, I was grateful to see what was there knowing it was no small feat to arrange so many painting in one spot from many locations.

I spent the night with M & D, enjoying good food, wine and conversation. On yet another beautiful sunny rain-free morning M indulged my geocaching craving. In her neighbourhood we discovered the "Trollboth cache," one of the best I've seen. Spoiler alert: the cache was cleverly placed inside the mouth at the bottom of the structure.

After a dinner of homemade Mac 'n Cheese I boarded the Amtrak back to our temporary quarters in Bellingham, WA. A relaxing end to a whirlwind 36 hours. 

 

The  mild, but rainy, NW part of Washington state, is a wintering ground for Bald Eagles and Trumpeter Swans. Despite the weather we've made it a point ourselves, to winter by exploring the small towns of Whatcom, Skagit and Snohomish counties. Our first stop was on an unusually dry and warm day where we saw the sun, eagles and swans.

It reminded me of the time in January, when we lived in Nebraska oh so long ago, when the temperature reached nearly 60 degrees F. We decide to go camping at nearby Waubonsie Sate Park in Iowa. The things you do for your boyfriend.  Stop me if you've heard this story. I guess you can't, so skip it if you have. It seemed like a good idea at the time and on this very blue sky mild day, listening to Judy Collins on cassette tape singing the Rainbow Connection, an actual sun dog type of rainbow appeared in the sky. Come on, how romantic is that? 

Very romantic, until 1:00a.m., when the temperature dropped so drastically, I spent the night with severe shivers. Nothing would warm me up. In fact the next morning we built a roaring campfire that, although huddling close to each other and to the flames, did nothing. After C dropped me off at my house, I took my temperature. It wasn't the weather, but a 104 degree fever that was the source of my misery. 

The funny part, there is a humourous ending to this story, is that when I returned to work after this bout of flu, I noticed that my gait was off.  Turns out I melted the bottoms of one of my wavy soled Famolare shoes while sitting up close and personal to the campfire. Heavens, they're back, those Famolares. Back then they went well with Huk-a-Poo stretchy man tailored shirts and bell bottom jeans. 

That was a digression par excellence.  Back to now, when we actually had a similar January 60 degree day, and the opportunity to explore the abandoned grounds of WA's Northern State Hospital. Now a ghost town, it was a thriving residential community for the mentally ill, from the early 1900's until the deinstitutionalization years of mid 70's. On their farms in the 1930's, the residents and staff produced, over two years, almost 1.5 million pounds of vegetables and 80,000 pounds of berries.

The grounds include five miles of mostly flat hiking trails, abandoned buildings that serve as excellent subjects for painting, and several geocaches, all-in-all a perfect combination.