One more room

My mother, who grew up in a house that was a little bigger than the one she raised me in, regularly dreamed of finding another room in our home. I actually dreamed about finding an extra room, too, sometimes.

Weirdly, though, I don't think I've ever dreamed about finding another room in my current house. In fact, even in middle age, I'm more likely to dream about the house at Home Farm, and very rarely dream about my own home where I've loved for thirty two years. Once I dreamed that I opened my childhood closet and there was a whole extra passageway and room off to one side of that.

I would very much like to have a dedicated studio space, even a very small one, instead of my current system (in which I balance a canvas on my knees and the edge of my computer desk if I'm painting from a photo reference.) Not going to happen any time soon, though.

Creatures of the Night (I am not one)

My front door is getting incredibly finicky about closing (just what I need). I added a thin piece of insulation around the door frame, to replace a piece that Some Stupid Cat clawed up. This insulation doesn't interfere with the door closing at all, it just gently touches it, but the door decided to be a bitch and start randomly popping open.

Which is why, at 1:30 last night, I heard Lady outside barking wildly. I got up and staggered out to the living room, to find the door standing open. I recalled Lady (thank heavens she came quickly) and closed it. Locked it grumpily. Went down to put more wood on the fire while I was up, which did make things warmer in here this morning. But. Grump. Did not appreciate the event, overall. I guess I should be happy she barked, because finding it right away was far better than finding it several hours later.

I have a friend coming over, and also the farrier at 11:45. I need to clean up this {handwaves the entire house} mess.

Hello, Winter

Well, I just put the plastic up on the interior of the bedroom window. My bed is right next to it, and even with a decent quality window and pretty good insulation in the walls, I feel it. It's bonkers how much difference a thin layer of plastic makes. I should take the rest of the roll of plastic down to Home Farm and show the boys how to put it up on theirs.

Had to break ice out of the chickens' waterers this morning, too. And I was a little surprised to hear the furnace kick on around 5 this morning. We primarily heat with a wood stove in the basement, and the furnace only kicks in if the wood stove is really falling behind. Happy December! Honestly, I don't mind. In this region, it's supposed to feel like winter in December. When it stays mild through the month I don't enjoy my Christmas preparations.

Move

I moved, age 23, from my parents' house directly to my current home. It was rough and ragged, had barely enough heat from the single woodstove to keep it above freezing, no insulation, hinky electric, and I had next to no furniture, but the relief was similar to being released from hell. All I had to move were my personal possessions from my childhood room; clothes, a bit of paperwork and craft/sewing supplies, a sewing machine and a wooden chest. (Now that I think of it, I should probably write a separate post describing the house at that time. I have a few photos.)

It was certainly a mixed bag, emotionally. However, I can certainly be glad that I never had to move again. In fact, since I only moved the contents of one room, you might say I've never had the full experience of 'moving house'. The closest I came was helping my husband move in a few years later, from his apartment a few miles away.

I would hate moving. I am grateful for the luck I had and the decisions I made. However, after vacuuming the same floors for thirty two years. After cleaning the same house for thirty two years. I do feel kinda 'done'. I just never want to clean in here again. I have to, and I will. But I can see how moving and starting fresh in a new space would have at least a little appeal.

This morning I need to take the truck up on the ridge and, hopefully with my daughter's help, prune back some overhanging branches along the cell tower road. Not the most fun thing one could do on a Sunday morning in summer, but at least it's outside. This chore has been on our list for, um, over a year, now.

Backyard with assorted small dinosaurs.

[ID: A cream farmhouse with green roof and shutters, several medium-sized trees around it, and large shrubs all along one side. There is blooming forsythia and a large, tidy shed in the background. The yard is wide and just starting to green up. Three chickens are approaching the viewer.]

Brrr, it's go-to-bed-fully-dressed time of year, wear three layers to sit in my work-room time of year, breaking ice out of the stock tank time of year, heat-a-rock-on-the-woodstove time of year.

Our farm house IS insulated, so we're far better off than we were before that. However, below a certain temperature the woodstove in the basement cannot keep up. We have a furnace for 'supplemental' heat, and today we need that. When I woke up this morning, the warmest room was 60F/15C, and the room I was sleeping in was quite a bit below that. If I need to spend any amount of time sitting still in my room, I wrap a flat, hot rock up in denim and put it in front of my chair so I can keep my feet warm. Portable heat; just move it from the woodstove to the computer desk!

Hero and Nutmeg were NOT too enthusiastic about coming out of the barn this morning.

Friday my son and I moved about 4 pickup-loads of cut wood from small trees/large shrubs into a massive bonfire pile. He has worked several hours with the chainsaw down at Home Farm removing dead stuff or things that grew up where they shouldn't have. Today may be more of the same.

the farm house

When I feel like I don’t make enough progress, I look at these old pix.

This was late 90s

And these pix are recent.