A Little Renovation...

Living through a home renovation is like living in the wild...

You do whatever it takes to survive. Anon.

I have been quiet because for the past 18 months or so we have been deep in house renovations & my middle son's family are about to land on us so we are in the final throes.

Our house was never actually finished.  The man broke his back before that happened & so there are many things we never had as a family, like a really decent lounge.

First the lounge room floor was sanded back & polished professionally.

Then there was the choosing....

I knew I wanted something really, really comfortable, not necessarily stylish & I knew I wanted it to curve round so it would be good for bible studies & family gatherings. 

                       It arrived put together & just needed sliding into place.

In summer we will swing it all round so we are looking out the windows @ our                                                          wonderful view!

The coffee table & fire guard were added later though the fire guard is mainly for the grandkids

It is the only room that is more or less finished.

The floorers arrive next week to do the rest of the downstairs floors.

That means I can start moving the furniture into the downstairs rooms. At present nearly everything is sitting in storage.

Welcoming...

The reason grandchildren and grandparents get along so well is that they have a common enemy. ~ Sam Levenson

Our 3rd grandchild [2nd grand~daughter] born 9.9.19

Welcome warrior of God, beloved of God.

Building your own home is about desire, fantasy.  Anyone can do it. 

~ Kevin McCloud.

We have holes in our walls & our floors.  Our plumbing is coming & going as the lad spasmodically works his way out of the bathroom & toilet, tiling & grouting & putting up all the moldings.

On Saturday I celebrated DIL2's baby shower on the north shore of Brisbane & briefly caught up with my mother & youngest daughter ~ which meant I was finally able to hand over my mother's rug.

This one.

And so I was able to ask Youngest, who was staying with mum & doing the driving: Did she actually like it? Because my mum is known to be fussy & is a good craftswoman in her own right.  And youngest quipped:Considering she had the blanket draped around her shoulders or on her lap all night I'd say yes. 

All good then.

Annus horribilis.

Some of the most poisonous people come disguised as friends & family.

Families are families.  Even the Queen gets this.  Some years are just horrendous.  Last year was our annus horribilis.

It shouldn't have been.  The man was returning to school for the first time in 50 years for his bible credentials & I was looking forward to some quiet time with just me, the cats, the view. Prayer, bible reading, a little gardening.  Well, you know, the best laid plans of mice & men...

Firstly, the year before, the Man's father died quite suddenly.  As he wasn't a nice man & had told different sections of the family different things about his illness we had no idea he was as sick as he was. He is not missed ~ & that is a terribly sad condemnation.

The Man's mother hadn't been well to start with.  The stress of family squabbling & her own health issues put her over the edge & she became very ill. We took on the burden of caring for her.  I did the day shift while the Man was in school; he did nights...& we could have continued indefinitely.  She was right next door.  We used to be a household of 7 so washing & cooking for one extra person was no big deal. We had health services lined up.  Her Dr was happy with our care of her but ~  the family was not. It was very stressful.

I won't go into the details.  It got very ugly & there was nothing we could do to help & in the end they were able to force her into a nursing home. She barely lasted 6 months.  The grieving process has been difficult but we have been using our share of the inheritance to finish the home that ground to a halt when my man broke his back  & could no longer work. We think it honours his mother because she would so have enjoyed things like the chooks & the sandstone, being a Sydney woman herself.

Rain has halted work on this project temporarily but you can see how it will be. The girls were fascinated & my lads, who laid it, could not believe the running commentary from the chook pen!

'Tis the season...

We don't make mistakes, we do variations.

Winter is the season I generally crochet.  It's too hot in summer, though it's been a while since I bothered.  It began with a baby blanket for a Canadian friend's grand~daughter & then my youngest began bleating that her Ma would not make her an afghan ~ so I did.  Rather an odd little afghan because the girl suffers all sorts of allergies so it was done with whatever baby wool I could find in single crochet  *squares*, a little uneven & wonky but she loves it & that's all that matters.

I packed it of to find she had generated *homemade envy* & all her housemates & friends were clamouring for a homemade blanket too because no~one in their families does them.  I do find that a little odd but whatever.

Her house mate is expecting so next it was a baby blanket.  Not my colours but house mate was thrilled with it so all good.

I am not very good @ following instructions  but finally figured out how to manage a waffle stitch for my soon to be brand new grand~daughter.

 I actually like this stitch so much I decided to try it in a chunky wool for a male friend of the girls. Nice big hook too ~ felt a little strange @ first as generally I work with a 4.5 & an 8 ply wool but nothing ventured, nothing gained & it turned out really well.

I was super happy with this one.  Loved the colour, texture & feel.

Then daughter un numero uno decided she was being left out ~ though she is in Chile & getting anything to her is problematic.  Weight is an issue so after some stuffing round I found a lightweight yarn, a big hook [#9] & single crochet gave me a really soft, pliable, lightweight afghan that shouldn't exceed her weight limit.

 I have begun a 2nd waffle stitch blanket for a different friend of YD's & though I was rather reluctant to work with her choice of colour it is turning out not too badly.  Just waiting on some more yarn to finish it off.

I love variegated yarns & ran this up over the weekend for my mother's birthday.  She can crochet herself but sticks to granny squares so hopefully she'll enjoy this one. 

 Since I was last crocheting  this much we have become computer savvy & so much has changed for me.  I am a very visual learner.  Until I can *see* how a pattern goes I struggle with the instructions no matter how clear they may be, but You Tube is a God Send in this regard. One can pause, repeat, pause as often as one needs to in order to master a technique.  I have tried stitches that I once considered waaay beyond me.  Indeed, I got super brave & purchased a Tunisian hook to have a go because Tunisian crochet gives a much tighter stitch.

Sooo different.  I wasn't sure @ first.  The long hook is difficult for me ~ too much like knitting.  I can't knit @ all. I nearly gave up but again ~ You Tube.  I found some basic tutorials & feel confident enough to tackle a project.  Will purchase some yarn next mainland trip & go for it!

Layers, POLs & disappearing eggs.

Who needs tv when you have chickens.

My original chickens were chosen for 2 characteristics: they were good layers & they were calm, friendly birds.This is true.  They are lovely girls & egg production was fantastic when they started laying.

Then summer arrived.  All summer my Barred Rocks went broody.  Constantly.  Over & over. They hogged the nesting boxes.  They got feisty about being disturbed.  The Australorps, who were only laying every 2nd or 3rd day, could barely get near a nest & invariably had to share.  Egg production dropped.  Food consumption did not. I resigned myself.  Then the molting started & no~one @ all was laying. *sigh*

So having planned all along to stagger my flock somewhat, & having built the Seaside Mansion for Spoilt Chooks, I toddled back to Beautiful Chickens, where the chickens really are beautiful, to get some more POLs.

I brought them home & put them in the new coop ~ much to my big girls dismay.  Chooks are much smarter than most people give them credit for & they knew this coop was theirs ~ so why were there strangers in it?  When I added my big girls they were very much of a mind to make a point.  Here's the thing: ever since my girls have been providing 2~3 eggs a day.  No~one has gone broody & my molter is acting perkier than she has for some time!

The new girls are still some way of laying, judging by their combs. That will shake things up again.  Laying gives you status in the hen world, even if you aren't so high up the totem pole. I'm eyeing my Rocks with a jaded eye.  They are winter layers.  Hopefully they will make up for their summer shenanigans!

The Seaside Mansion.

Chickens~ the gateway drug to farming.

We are subtropical.  That means it's not that it never gets cold here but that what we mean by cold & what someone in , say Alaska, means by cold are not the same thing @ all.  Weather is something to consider when building a chicken coop. 

 For all sorts of reasons our new coop had to be slap bang in the middle of our garden & entertainment area so there were certain considerations because of that.  It couldn't look like your average Aussie chicken shed of crate palings, chicken wire & corrugated iron. No.  Just, no. OK?

Anyway, in all honesty I know very little about chickens.  They lay eggs.  I eat eggs.  So I joined a forum & I read a lot of stuff about chickens & coops & if we didn't already have 4 girls laying up a storm I might have seriously reconsidered chicken adventuring because so many things can go wrong with chickens & all of it is completely gross! However chickens we had & I knew the coop we had wasn't adequate for the 4 girls we had, let alone the 8 extra I was intent on acquiring so I started looking ~ & I do mean looking.  I am a visual learner.  I looked @ pictures of coops.  If I liked how it looked I read about it. It will sound mad unless you too are a very visual learner.

I saw lots & lots of very lovely coops.  Some people are just incredibly imaginative & artistic but the bottom line is chickens still have to live in the thing & what was best for the chickens?  I kept returning to the concept of a Wood's Coop Design.  

To be quite frank the science of a Wood's design escapes me entirely but I understood the concept.  We didn't have enough space for a 12 X 8 coop but that was the basic idea we began working with. What we ended up with is a 4.8 square open to the nor'east, roosts along the back wall, nesting boxes out the back & because The Man & I are both gardeners first & foremost a lot of garden around it. We do have doors to hang for extreme weather conditions but so far we haven't needed them, even in wind & rain.  The air in the coop isn't moving so my girls are staying warm & dry while still getting plenty of fresh air.  I should also point out the only predators we have are hawks.

 Needless to say having arranged to meet my supplier & choose birds the weather became unco~operative & we were scrambling to finish the coop in time for the arrival of new birds. On a whim, because a neighbour had sandbags he was trying to offload, I added a sandpit under the coop.  It has been very popular!  As have the 3 large stumps stationed to get the best of the view & sea breezes.  Yes, I know... My husband refers to this as The Seaside Mansion for Spoilt Chooks.

The Visible Soul.

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul ~ Jean Cocteau

I am, unashamedly, a cat lover.  I like cats because they are unique & quirky, creatures of comfort, & always sublimely beautiful.  Ours are lovers.  They know how to give affection but more that that, they are empathetic.

For 13 years we had the most glorious Siamese cross, cream with ginger points, blue crossed eyes, a kink @ the end of his tail, a raucous voice & a wicked sense of humour.  He was a family cat, incredibly grateful to be taken into our home & loved to bits by everyone in it.  He was a stray & when I got him he was black with fleas, unkempt, uncared for, hungry & every day he got loved upon & fed special tid~bits he was grateful.   I adored him.  My Libby & I sort of snuck him in & all the men folks arrived home to a fait accompli ~ though only The Man, a dog man when he met me, was less than impressed.  So far as everyone else was concerned he was here to stay, & stay he did, accompanying the boys on their fishing expeditions & lavishing affection on the girls but he'd had a rough start & by 13 he was an old, old man riddled with cancer.   I was devastated.  I was the one who had to make the call @ the vets & cuddle  him to the end telling him what a good boy he'd always been.

I came home to the alpha male kitten my middle son had brought home & basically left in my care, unneutered, barely weaned, bombastic & demanding & not my cat.  Issi had other ideas.  He always did know his own mind. He climbed up my leg.  I ignored him completely.  He slunk up my chest & laid his head over my heart & began to purr.  Of course I melted. He shared my grief unreservedly & from that moment on he was fiercely protective of me.  I was his person & he let everyone know it.  I have never been loved like that in my life & losing him, suddenly, unexpectedly, to a blood clot broke my heart.

This time it was the man who said: You need to get another cat.  In fact, get two!  So we did.
We have rescues.  They make the best home souls.  Ours are bonded brothers, Ragdoll Xs, polar opposites, an intelligent, nervy introvert & an extroverted exhibitionist. The extrovert was a neurotic mess for months, crying any time I was out of his sight but they know how to love ~ & isn't that what a home is about?  Being able to relax completely, secure in being loved?  

The rain is coming across the bay in great heavy scuds but both cats are tucked up within sight, serenely snuggled against the cold & damp, displaying the visible soul of our home as only a cat can.

Buying Happiness.

Money can't buy you happiness ~ but it can buy chickens & that's almost the same thing.

Last August we bought chickens again.  We did it differently because last time we didn't have any money so turned an old trampoline into a pen & invested in rescue ISA Browns.  I'm not a mad fan of ISA Browns.  I like pretty things ~ & chickens are no exception.  ISA Browns are not, to my eyes, pretty.  

So I bought a prefab coop & 5 birds: 2 black Australorps & 3 Barred Rocks.  In the way of these things the coop is made for bantams, not the nice plump girls I have, though they have been happy enough with it because they have spent most of their time decimating my yard.  However the plan was always to have more birds so we have been building a new coop.

I chose my first girls for being calm, docile girls, friendly enough & good layers because what I always knew I wanted was much flightier ~ Campines, Araucanas, Frizzles, Wyandottes ~ & I didn't want them all over my yard & absconding to the neighbours.  I have my fingers crossed that my calm older girls will lead without bullying & my flock will remain as calm & peaceful as it has been to date. 

My youngest, Kate, adores chickens & one of the BAs is hers, though Kate no longer lives here & is in no position to keep chickens.  Just the same she tells everyone she has chickens.  So I asked if she'd like to navigate me over to Mt Samson again to pick up 8 new birds.  It is going to cost me a bird because Kate promptly asked if one of the new birds could be hers.  I don't mind.  It's only in name.  

We are due to go & pick them up in 10 days but we have still to finish the coop & now the rain is raining all around.  

I like chooks.  It takes very little to make them happy.  They chatter softly as they go about their business & are so happy to do what they were made to do: lay eggs.  If only people were so amenable.

As a child I thought everyone saw the world the way I do: ephemeral, ethereal, intangible, hardly there at all really unless you gripped on tightly with both hands. There was only a light gauzy veil between the worlds & it was possible, sometimes, to catch enticing glimpses of what lies beyond.

  I have never liked cities because they shut out the thin places, weighing them down with concrete & steel, till the veil is heavy & the other hidden from view.

I choose to live in a thin place, not only because it is beautiful & one can hear oneself think, but because the other is so very close in the ordinary, every day things ~ & we are very ordinary. We keep chooks & cats.  We grow vegetables & air plants, elks & staghorns.  Our house is unfinished & our garden a jungle. Wallabies roam the beach & songbirds chatter about the bird baths.  And we have children.  The ones we own are big now but they have their own children & we begin again the cycle of the days of small things: lifting small bodies to feel for warm eggs under feathered bodies; nipping baby beans of sturdy plants to eat raw & green & sharp with taste; scattering seed ~ for the chickens, for the little wild birds, for the half tame wildlings that know here there is safety & water & shelter from the storm; cats by the fire & sturdy chairs to stand on to learn the art of kneading dough for bread or making enough cookies for everyone.

More & more I care less & less for the world beyond these small things.  Too much of angst.  Too much anger.  Enough hatred to sink the ship. But within, all is serene. The Prince of Peace reigns eternal & the good things His hands made are here to be loved & enjoyed by all who may.