Pembroke Kitchen

What a summer! A major plumbing malfunction occurred in July. It rained from the bathroom into the kitchen for several days before the plumbers could arrive. By then, I was tired of using the basement bathroom (think cinder blocks and cobwebs) and frustrated by the amount of damage to my kitchen ceiling and wall.

Our kitchen was dreadful to begin with. It was a visual cacophony of country apples and cheap laminated white counter tops, covered by an ancient drop ceiling, encased by 1970's era wood paneling, yet partially redeemed by a decent floor and oak cabinets. I painted the paneling in 2007 and that was the end of any desire to "quick fix",... until the 2011 Deluge.

9 June 2011

9 June 2011

The plumbers popped out ceiling tiles and tore out soggy plaster pathways to access and replace the century-old pipes. It wasn't an easy fix, especially removing the wet wall in order to remove the cast iron main stack.

Unfortunately, they extended the new pipes lower than the original ceiling. I wanted to restore to the actual ceiling height and I was a bit ticked off at the setback but there was little I could do.

Our contractor gave us a ballpark estimate in early July and then scheduled to began work towards the end of the month. Insurance would cover as much as possible, with a $500 deductible. We had a minor setback when the company's executives reviewed everything and determined that their initial estimate was too conservative for the amount of work that needed to be done. I still don't have the final bill (yes, I'm worried) but the job isn't technically finished yet.

The best part of this entire process was demolition. We saved a fair amount of money by doing it on our own. I tore my way through ancient wallpaper and cheap wood.

Old homes have wonderful discoveries in walls, and our house wasn't the exception. The downstairs laundry chute and folding ironing board niche were hidden behind a section of the paneling. Faux (pink!) bricks once adorned the lower portion of the kitchen, topped by nasty country cutesie wallpaper, circa 1970s.

24 July 2011 Laundry chute and ironing board found.

25 July 2011  Panels removed, faux brick exposed.

24 July 2011 Color choices reflective of original colors.

 I selected my color and counter top choices well before demolition began but I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they were close to what was originally in the kitchen.

We are not in a financial position to install luxury items. My dream kitchen would have Wolf and Sub-Zero appliances, Travertine floor tile, glass wall tile and sleek fixtures. I told Better Half early into this project that pouring gasoline into the middle of the room and tossing in a match would be a major improvement, so I'm not too concerned with a quick yet less elegant change. I'm more than happy having new laminate counters, smooth walls, no exposed pipes,  an inexpensive light and smartly painted beadboard.

The contractor, limited by what the insurance was willing to pay, was quick to agree with my decisions.  He sent in Mike the Carpenter, a friendly fellow with a good eye for details. Everything fell into place at that point.

27 July 2011 Beadboard up and pipes framed.

29 July 2011 Drywall up.

 

5 Aug 2011 Walls primed.

11 Aug 2011  A Zen moment for me.

The painter will (hopefully) return tomorrow to finish the trim. I'll upload final pictures once the work is completed.

I've loaded some things back into the kitchen but my dining room has suffered from the clutter. It reminds me of a hoarder house. I can't find anything.

27 July A hoarder's dining room???

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A Day...

Mid-Summer...

The thermometer under our shaded porch reads 82*F. It feels much hotter in the sunshine, humidity or not. This wonderfully mild summer has so far been kind to us although the lack of rain causes stress on my more-delicate plants.

We spent the afternoon weeding the flower beds. Densely packed planting areas deter weeds, for the most part, but the crab grass thrives under the vibrant leaf canopies. We found three wild memosas, hardly two inches tall, and planted them in a spare pot. Perhaps I’ll overwinter them indoors and see if I can get them to thrive in the back garden next spring.

Mother nature doomed the lawns. A velvety tapestry of broad leaf monsters, stitchwort and clover took over large patches, filling in the spots where the heat (and gas line work of last year) has weakened the grasses.  It looks lovely when freshly mowed and viewed at a distance.

Biting flies drove us from the front porch. They attacked in small clusters while we watered the vegetation. Citronella candles do little to dissuade them.  (I paused to relight one just now and managed to drip hot wax down my favorite yellow tee shirt. Damn it all.)

Our peppers are thriving, as are the tomatoes. We’ll have good things to eat in another week or two. The basil thrives in the humidity, although the parsley isn’t too pleased with it. We plant anything else this year because we knew we wouldn’t have the energy to tend it. Porch gardening limits the amount of produce but is much simpler than trying to weed large beds or long rows.

Better Half has gone in search of a new propane tank so we can grill tonight. Yester, he picked up his favorite fresh burgers (nasty things stuffed with cheese and other products) and I found a pretty t-bone. We’ll rummage through the veg we didn’t eat last week and see what can be steamed. I’ve wanted to make corn and tomato salad but haven’t felt much like cooking this week.

I really don’t know where my energy went this season. My insomnia has kept me up until the wee hours of the morning (or later, say 6 am!) and I seemed to have turned into a diurnal sleeper. According to my mother, I was a nocturnal minster as a child, refusing to go to bed and nasty to wake up in the morning. I’d rather stay up all night and enjoy the tranquility than spend a day shackled to the phone or sitting in a café or park.  I’ve turned into an unequivocally antisocial shit. Go with your natural talents, I always say. The downside of this is that I have a long laundry list of things that I really need to get done if I can just get back to sleeping at night: phone calls to return, an Asian lilac to prune back, walks with Better Half in the park, CAP work and a newsletter to finish, and so on.

“Why don’t you do it now, Aut?”

Please. I’m getting ready to wash all the dirt and sweat off and take a nap.

Note to self: if you stuff weeds and trash into an empty soda can, don’t put it next to the fresh can. You’ll get a nose full of gunk when you try to drink out of it.

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The Spider's Meal

I love my yards most in the early hours of the morning and at twilight. Wildlife is most active during these times, a beautifully orchestrated symphony of insects, birds and plant life.

This morning, I had hope to digitally capture the humming birds that had (finally!) returned to feed off of the memosa blooms. I wasn't very successful and occupied myself by photographing a few stills of my budding tomatoes and pepper flowers. A sudden, violent movement caught my eye.

A spider had snared a small beetle in her web. It had alighted as I was zooming in on a particularly graceful grouping of young tomatoes and the spider, lurking somewhere under the porch railing, burst onto her web with dazzling speed, snaring the befuddled insect and poisoning him.

It was a fabulous display but I wasn't able to recalibrate my camera to catch the entire dance. I had to settle with a few shots of her struggling with the dying insect before her feast.

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My Birthday 2011

My birthday began at 2 AM – the Meowing Menace of Pembroke took it upon herself to herald in the new day by prowling the halls and bedroom, moaning and grinding against the bed like a feverish crack whore in need of a fix. It is her nightly ritual and it lasts until the wee hours of the morn. She wants to be pet. She wants to be kissed. She wants to sit on someone’s face or chest, vigorously propelling cat hair up their nostrils or into their eyes because they, her insignificant staff, can not possibly exist without her molecules breaching their every pore.  We don’t see her during the day (unless she graces us with her presence as she vomits up a hairball or some undigested kitty kibble).

Better Half had his PT appointment, we called Mum and she sung "Happy Birthday" to me, and then we headed to Pittsburgh. Our first stop was the Robinson Dennys (eternally pronounced den-WAHs) for my free birthday breakfast. It’s an Old Punk thing.  They were recovering from a breakfast rush (comprised mainly of loud, testosterone-packed young adults, and I do use “adult” loosely) so we had a bit of a wait. The waitress was a kindly dear, obviously overworked already, and the service was excellent.

We trekked through the Fort Pitt Tunnel and into Pittsburgh proper, weaving through grey streets bustling with pedestrian traffic. A very tangible pre-holiday feeling surrounded us.  ThePittsburgh Three Rivers Regatta begins tomorrow.  It will be wild.  

Phipps Conservatory  wasn’t as crowded as we’d expected. We renewed our membership, accepted some lovely coffee table books as gifts, and enthusiastically entered the Happiest Humid Spot in PA.

We had a delightful time. Our preferred exhibits are Butterfly Forest and Headwaters of the Amazon.  

Butterfly Forest is an all-ages-pleaser; children especially enjoy wandering the paths while graceful insects dance about them.   

The summer flower show is Living Harmoniously with Nature. It’s fascinating but I’m not into pop art or interpretive sculptures.

Enjoy:

Orchid from the Frank Sarris Orchid Room

 

Fae Pathway

Mason bee hive

A vibrant display for sight, scent and taste

Beauty found clinging to concrete

Aqua

 

Better Half releases his Inner Child

Koi

We stopped by Crystal on Penn for Lebanese food. Better Half and I ordered the lamb sandwich: large chucks of prime lamb and peppers stuffed into a perfect pita, served with a traditional sauce. It is casual dining and the bill was much less than we expected.  I’m going to try their kibbee next time around.

I finished off my day with phone calls to and from Mum and Dad, Better Half's Mom, and more family (I couldn’t get in touch with my Aunt Paul, and was really hoping to) and then some work in my own flower beds. The fireflies are out in force once again. 

I’m ready to embrace my forties. I’m eager to see what the next decade will bring. Most of all, I’m very happy to have family and friends, even if they are long-distance or bogged down with their own life’s journey.

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Catch Up

Obviously, I haven’t visited here in a while;  Facebook usurped every joule of my lingering blogging energies. How can I possibly write my thoughts without the mind-dulling distraction of Angry Birds or City of Wonder?

Facebookless friends have sent me well-meaning email (“did you die?”) and general inquiries (“if you died, can I have your plastic dinosaur collection?”) not to mention Better Half chiming in (“I check your blog every day to see if you’ve written.”) so I must have a lepton-sized fan base out there somewhere.  They’re quite flavourful.

“Autrice, is that a piss-poor physics joke?”

Yes. My wit, much like my writing skills, has decayed over time.

My goal for today was to set up shop on my back deck and essentially finish a blog entry. The weather is perfect. Wind chime tunes mix with the sporadic hammering from our neighbor as he works on his new deck. I can watch birds flit about our trees (inside joke, that) and enjoy the breeze tussling my pepper plants’ leaves.  Humming birds and carpenter bees frolic around our mimosa tree. Lovey setting.  I’m not accomplishing much.

Woe the pitfalls of writing in a natural setting! I turned my back for a moment and Better Half had to fish the wireless mouse from the clutches of the rogue tomato plant growing at the garden level of the yard.

The Village of  Wintersville held Thunder in the Valley last weekend. Our back deck is a prime spot to see the fireworks. There is something magical about rainbow-colored chrysanthemums illuminating the sky. The grass was freshly mowed that day, a heady scent that rejuvenates the soul. Fireflies (we’ve been calling them Firefly Storms due to this year’s large population) dotted the landscape from ground to tree-top. I miss the beach. I miss Colorado’s natural beauty. I wouldn’t leave Ohio if you paid me.

Our spring was rather exciting. We experienced a major plumbing leak in the bathroom. It destroyed the kitchen ceiling. The owners prior to us installed the horrid apple-theme wallpaper below. Above it is the original 1920s wallpaper. I'm going to see if we can save a small strip of it. I'll place it in a frame and hang it in tribute to the Yocums (first owners). We are the third people to own this silly Craftsman.

The plumbers demolished what was left of the ceiling, took down a cabinet, and installed all new pipes. The plumbing between the bathroom and first floor stack is now up to code and all of the original 1920s cast iron, lead and copper pipes are gone. The plumbing in other parts of the house has remained.

We should hear from our insurance adjuster any day now. They will have to remove all the old (hideous!) wall paper, repair the plaster walls, construct a new ceiling and replace one counter top. Ugh. I’ve picked out new colors for the room, chosen an inexpensive counter top (we’ll have to install matching ones on our own dime) and experimented with cabinet painting techniques. Everything is on hold until we have an answer from Allstate. 

The tomato plants are flowering and I’ve seen some pepper buds. Our front garden is glorious this year, accenting the house with shades of maroon, orange, white and lilac. The lawns have gone a bit weedy but I can’t work new seed or sod into our budget.  

My birthday is Friday and we will spend the day at the Phipps Conservatory. My membership expires at the end of July. Time to renew.

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