Sunday, April 27, 2008


If you think about all that has to happen for a worm to morph into a butterfly, obviously the whole process is pretty amazing. But there is no doubt that when the chrysalis splits and the butterfly pops out, respledent in new colors, that is the most dramatic part.

Our house project has taken a little time, (like some 'bugs', we morphed through most of a winter) it's seemed complex to me, there have been some tricky parts, and a few amazing moments. To the casual observer, I'm sure the effect of a new coat of paint is the most dramatic part.

For us, it is enormously pleasing: As well as making our house more 'pretty' it suggests the 'end' of our little house-boat journey. I'm not going to stand on the deck of the SS Rocky Acres and announce "Mission Accomplished!" as though 'thats all over now', but I know we are going to be doing a little less crawing, and begin to fly a little more. I know we are not 'through' with our homeowner version of disaster recovery, there's the towel bars and curtain rods to hang, a hand rail on the back porch, and the renovation of the 'koi' pond (maybe real Koi this time, not those solid gold 79 cent 'K-Mart' Koi). The new paint reresents a point of demarcation for me, in my mind this is the book end of our renovation.

So, is it over? I'm sure not. I spent much of yesterday hauling 'stuff' out of the shop to refurnish our house, restock our cupboards, and drawers, and to make our new house more familiar, reminiscent of our 'old' house. And there is lots more to go. Large patches of shop-floor are starting to show!

Six Inches of Mud:

All the furniture went into the house via a stop in the garage. I set up a cleaning station, a bucket of hot soapy water, a few rags, uphopstery cleaner, some leather dressing, sponges, and brushes all came into play as I scrubbed, soaked, and otherwise worked to get that 6 inches of mud off the legs, the rails and any other low portions of the furniture.

Chairman was very interested, not too helpful, but supportive I think. It all got intense sniffing prior to cleaning. It may be my imagination but those items with the most muddy paw prints; Mrs C's desk chair, the hope chest from the bedroom, these were places of refuge during his dark night of fear and lonliness, and they got the most sniffing. Remember, we were not able to get home Tuesday night, the flood waters were just too deep. The town was an eerie sight; no power, so dark and forboding with the reflection of the few lights glinting off the flood waters that were flowing through town, and through our house. Chairman was locked inside, no lights, no heat, and water rising. I wonder if he has any memory of that time at all. I hope not, though that intense sniffing causes me to wonder.
He's adjusting pretty well. The swallows are back and are schooling him about his appropriate place in the 'hood'. (that blur in the upper left hand corner of the pic is a swallow who just gave him an invitation ot move back to Centralia).
He's put the run to the scruffy orange neighborhood cat on at least one occasion. I am sure that will be a process of negotiation.

We've been back 'in' now for a week or so. We're finding things that we forgot we had, and searching for things we thought we had. Cleaning, arranging, rearranging, sorting, storing, and in some cases discarding. Last night we had h-burgers off the grill on the patio. We fed the painting crew, I think they were a little bit stunned but they went with the flow, food is the great social lubricant.

This marks a turning point in the Chronicles also. There will udoubtably be periodic posts related to the house, but expect this to turn toward the things that interest me, it will become more (though not exclusively) bike centric.

We are all happy to be home, it's so comfy.

1 comment:

  1. Just for the hell of it I looked to see when your last ride report was. Unless I missed something, it was September 25th, 2007 (PBP).
    I am very happy to see you back on the bike.