Awake And Writing

I think this post will have to be a chronological account of the last week or so to bring everyone up to speed, including me. Let's start with moving day. Altogether surreal to see one's home denuded. A lovely roast beef dinner at the neighbours followed by a blissful sleep in their spare room. Awoken by the dulcet tones of their pet dove.

courtesy of wikipedia



Drove from Calgary to Vancouver and spent two nights being nurtured by the in laws. Up early to catch the ferry to the Sunshine Coast and then a second one to Powell River. Minutes after getting off the first ferry the moving company informed us our furniture would be arriving a day late. A cosy day in a hotel listening to the rain, watching T.V. and eating take out.

 





wiki again





Next day moved into the house we rented while we continue to search for just the right place. When I first saw this house I was pleased to see it had a nice lawn surrounded by flower beds.  I was mentally pruning, weeding and mulching as I walked towards the door. The house is large (our side) with a small suite attached off to the side (nice young couple). Turns out the suite occupants are responsible for the large front garden and I get the postage stamp size patch of grass at the back.

Unbelievable







Currently waiting for the right time to offer my services at the front. Fortunately I get a lovely view of the roses still in bloom

taken by me, obviously





and the fairies.

Yes, at the bottom of the garden

The roses are a big deal as in my prairie garden they were long gone. I can't wait for my own garden. Roses and more roses.

 

Planning to take it easy until Christmas, my happy little bubble was burst by an unexpected project crashing on to my desk. If it wasn't critical and time sensitive I would close my eyes and wait for it to go away but nooo. By the end of the day I'm so ready to crawl into bed. Blogging seems beyond my strength, not to mention that as soon as I get overtired I lose the ability to spell. Looks like for the time being, or at least for another week, my blog must fend for itself. Note, I will absolutely not be giving up reading other blogs, its the only thing keeping me sane.

Chairs

Our family does not do well with chairs. They tend to give way on us in the most public of situations. Before you suggest more exercise and and healthy eating let me say none of us are grossly overweight.

Frank Lloyd Wright barrel chair. 1904. He used variations of this design in his own house, Taliesin, and in the Darwin Martin house in Buffalo, New York

 My, on the skinny side, husband has the most trouble. His pinnacle of achievement was evening drinks with new neighbours when each leg on his chair splayed out in different directions, sending him crashing to the floor. As our family had witnessed similar events in the past none of us were overly alarmed but the lady of the house found us shockingly unconcerned.

Barcelona chair, 1929 Mies van der Rohe and Lilly Reich

In a lovely heritage building my seven yr old son handed me the arm and side rails of a Windsor chair. The now lop sided donor chair stood reproachfully in a corner. Fortunately the nice lady said not to worry, it was always happening.
Our daughter, on the other hand, is a menace to friends. Her rather ratty canvas deck chairs give up and rip in panic the moment a posterior hovers above.

Red and Blue Chair 1917, Gerrit Rietveld

I thought I had paid my dues many years ago at the lawyer's office. The only room available was the board room. The table and chairs were huge. In fact, when seated, my feet dangled in the air like a child. I was precariously perched on the lip of the seat and worried it might tip forward. With the aid of the arms I bounced myself further back into the chair. The darned thing was on wheels and the force sent me sailing across the room until I bounced off the wall and careened back towards the table. Neither the lawyer or my husband came to my aid, both sitting there with their mouths wide open. Finally I had to ask my husband to wheel me back into position.
So, yup, I thought I was safe.

Adirondack chair 1903, Thomas Lee  (a little patent hanky panky followed)

Wrong. Here begins the final instalment of House Hunting Hell.
Wanting nothing more than to get home we finally got onto the ferry. Winds immediately increased and we had a bumpy ride over the waves. Nevertheless we joyfully bounded into the airport. Flight cancelled, due to now storm conditions. Next flight 27 hours ahead. Time for a very early liquid lunch. Into our favourite seafood restaurant. I gratefully sank into my chair and the leg fell off. I managed to brace myself between the table and the wall in a rather undignified pose to avoid hitting the deck. After all we had been through, it was a laugh or cry moment. I chose, or they chose me, uncontrollable giggles. I could tell the waitress thought me highly strung.

Louis Ghost Chair 2002, Philippe Starck

The airline provided us a night in a slightly grubby hotel, evidenced by the mummified french fry on the carpet.  We gratefully made it to our own precious bed the next day.

More House Hunting Hell

Last time out my husband was in the burning grip of a viral infection. Not to be out done, on our current trip I have wilted from the lingering effects of bronchitis. "Mother's weak chest" as it is so dismissively referred to by the rest of the family,  is the legacy of a childhood  spent in a charming but chronically damp 17th century English farmhouse. Thus a hint of damp in any structure can send me into a tailspin. Alas, such was the case regarding house B, as featured in my last post. We had our offer accepted, proceeded with an inspection, received the damning report, and through a paroxysm of coughing I indicated the need to call the thing off. Homeless again, and fading fast, I've begun to look longingly at the small cemetery we pass each time we drive into town. "Oh look at everyone having a nice nap," I think to myself, "Perhaps if I could just have a little lie down..."

We have decided to rent over the winter and see what comes onto the market in the Spring. Meanwhile I can't help wondering if the universe is trying to tell us something.

This One Or This?

I am exhausted from the constant "what shall we do" "which one is best" debate.  In an effort to save my sanity, or perhaps just losing all perspective from sleep deprivation, I'm seeking your input dear readers.

House A: View

                                               
You have seen this before.

House B: View

This is the view if you were standing in the back yard.

House A: Kitchen

This is far beyond the requirements of my culinary skills. I could, however, amuse myself by pretending I was the host of a cooking show. Everything in this baby is HIGH end.

House B: Kitchen

I'm not saying a word.

A peak into the master bedroom of House B:

                        
               

and in House A:

                        


Heart or head folks, that is the question.

More to come next week as we head out again.                                             

Planes, Ambulances And Composting Toilets

Last Sunday we headed to the airport to begin another house hunting trip. Perhaps I should have clued in to trouble ahead when Dr. Bob inadvertently used the ladies washroom. In his defence, since we were last at the airport there have been renovations to the washrooms, which the airport authority has pretty much decided not to point out to the travelling public.

We get on to the plane. Halfway through the flight Dr. Bob faints- keels over and practically falls into the aisle. We had the "Is there a doctor on board" announcement. Before you say, physcian heal thyself, Dr Bob is an astronomer. Fortunately the flight attendant had just quit her job as an emergency room nurse and she was terrific. A dentist also offered his input and was very kind and supportive. They had medics waiting on the tarmac who then carted us off to the hospital.

I really wish I could have enjoyed this part more as the medics were from the military base and all rather manly in their uniforms while also sensitive and kind. What more could a girl want?

Instead of looking at houses in Campbell River, as planned, we spent the rest of the day at the hospital in Comox. We managed to get back on schedule in the evening and caught the ferry to Powell River, our main search area for this trip. The next day I left the sick one in bed at the B&B and saw 20+ houses wiith the realtor. The sick one was exhausted from resting all day and fainted again. Off to another hospital. They figured out he had a wicked viral infection and gave what treatment they could but really there is nothing you can do but wait it out.

After three days at the B&B we relocated to a lovely cabin on the waterfront. I was by this time a frazzled mess but managing to hold it together until the owners introduced me to the composting toilet. Now I've always liked the idea of  a composting toilet but coming face to face with the beast itself was the final straw. I felt a bit of a lip wobble coming on. The beast and I have yet to come to terms. It doesn't help that I need a two step stool to get up on the thing. It seems like hours before the previous deposit disappears. I've hardly gone near the thing today as I knew I was going to have to make a larger deposit than last night. Consequently the urge has passed and I'm envisioning returning home with an abdomen full of something close to concrete.

My heartfelt thanks to the Westjet crew and ground staff in Comox and Marie at Ocean Point B&B in Powell River. Here is a picture of the lovely cabin we are now residing in, I'm sure after a few days here I'll be up for anything. Even the toilet, which is not at all bad, just a victim of poor timing.

                 
                                                 Stillwater Beach Cottage

Awry

When we got back from Vancouver Island the first thing we had to deal with was a semi dead tree. I'm not sure if it was wind damage or if it has caught the disease from  the neighbour's yard. In any case a half dead tree in your backyard is not a selling feature. Being independent types we chose to remove the limb ourselves. The tree now looks a tiny bit lop sided but you can hardly notice. I mean you would tell me, wouldn't you?

A synonym for lop sided is awry meaning, "away from the appropriate or right course."  A word that could well describe me as our house is now SOLD. I feel as if I am living in a stranger's house where I must be careful not to damage anything. At least I can put the family photos back up. Oh how I missed not being able to glance at much loved faces. And I can't seem to shake super clean and tidy mode, a completely alien state I was forced to adopt during the selling process. I've started to tidy friends' houses and even rearrange store displays.

One thing I've learned is a nice garden is not always a bonus. Some people were put off, feeling it would be a lot of work. Well folks, it would be your garden and if you wanted to pour cement over the whole thing you could. Not that I wouldn't come back and at the very least deflate your tires or something.

Fortunately the purchasers love the garden. So for the time being the roses

                                                                             

                                                                             
                
and Heliopsis and Monkshood

                                                                              
are safe.

House Hunting 2

We had one day left in the Comox Valley and feeling despondent over the property search hopped on the ferry to Powell River.

      
It is filled with beautiful architecture.

We went out of town to view two houses. The first set my heart racing. Through a grove of trees, an old farmhouse dappled in sunlight.  Perfect.....except for the listing foundation and grow op history. To be honest I have it tucked away in my heart just in case I win the lottery and can afford to fix it.

The second one has everything on our wish list plus this view across a meadow:

Nothing wrong with this one folks.  Time for reflection with a nice walk along Willingdon Trail

and a quick look at the Sunshine Coast Trail.

and a lung full of sea air coming down Desolation Sound. (Fjord for my European readers)

Maybe we should have made an offer right there and then.  I'll keep you posted.                                   

House Hunting

                                                                            

The first challenge, on our house hunting trip to the Comox Valley, was finding the cottage we had rented as our search base. This was due to moi forgetting to bring the address. Ever resourceful, I suggested going to the Visitor Information Centre.

The other person on the trip had a complete meltdown. I had to listen to whining regarding the torture of driving to the centre (10 minutes), his absolute certainty the visitor centre would have no information on tourist accommodation ( I had no answer to this) and the heat (true).

We unfortunately drove past the turning to the centre-I didn't see the sign. More fuming. Might I suggest a bigger sign?

Amazingly, as soon as we walked into the pleasantly cool building we found advertising for Honey Grove. In addition, the lovely young lady at the desk had visited the property only the week before. Dr. Bob scored points by refraining from explaining the reason we needed the address. I reciprocated by swallowing the "I told you so".

Then followed days and days of seeing the most awful houses which looked similar to the following:



A frame on 2 acres. No kitchen. Next to a granite quarry.



Attractive log house. Listed as needing finishing touches. If you call walls, bathroom and stairs finishing touches.

 

This one smelled so bad I had to run outside with my hand clasped over my mouth and nose. The selling realtor had described it as needing updates but perfectly livable.

O.K. there were some which weren't too bad, but nothing that tugged at the heart strings.

We did find time to stroll the grounds of Filberg Lodge

     
                                 
   and walk along Williams Beach

 

 Further adventures to come.