How many of you know what a Wonderbar is?
I would wager that more know about the Wonderbra than a Wonderbar. It is a beautiful little irony that you transpose two letters in a word and conjure up two entirely different objects.
I was thinking about this phenomenon last week when I first became acquainted with the joy of using a Wonderbar. I was removing moulding from the doorways and windows in the living room in anticipation of painting over the ghastly red that currently colors that room. Until just recently I was ignorant of the name of the tool that one uses to facilitate such a task. Don and I were in Home Depot (again) to buy tools and in the crowbar area Don picked up a familiar looking object and said we need a Wonderbar. I would have ignorantly called the item in his hand a crowbar, but Don has enlightened me. A Wonderbar is a flattened crowbar. The two flat ends can be more easily wedged into tight areas that need to be pryed apart from one another, ie moulding and wallboard.
This, I am aware, is probably not of great interest to anyone other than me. But while I was whacking away at the various mouldings that needed to be removed from various rooms in our new house, I thought of an irony that would be of interest to others. The word Wonderbar kept bouncing round in my head and getting confused with another word that is quite common to most, probably floating around alluringly in the heads of all teenage boys and most men of any age. Wonderbra. Hmmm. Yes, the appropriately named brainchild of the Victoria's Secret empire. Those sexy ads on TV with Naomi Campbell or Gisele Bundchen (please do not ask how I know these names) writhing around to disco music in their skivvies. Ah, the Wonderbra. And the luscious irony of this all is that when I was in my 30's I was the owner of a Wonderbra. In fact believe I had more than one at one point. I can admit to enjoying their uplifting abilities, but I was less than pleased with all the padding that they entailed. In my mind it was a less than truthful engagement to tempt with all that cleavage, only to offer up cotton batting to the touch. I had my flirtation with the Wonderbra, but moved on to more organic forms of enticement.
So I was smiling to myself at where my life has taken me, as I celebrated my 43rd birthday last week. From Wonderbra to Wonderbar. I must admit that these days I live in T shirts and jeans, or even better, work pants along the lines of Carhart (but actually Sorel which is the Canadian version of Carhart, and we are just south of Canada). I love my Sorels because they have reinforced knees and seat so I can crawl around on the plywood sub flooring of the den with the Wonderbar pulling off moulding and then pulling out the resultant open nails without getting splinters or scraping/bruising anything. I can also sit in the garden longer before I get wet from the ground. Pulling out weeds is safer with my Sorels because I am protected from all the thorns by the tightly woven canvas. They are the perfect clothing at this moment in my life. Luckily for me Don does not seem to mind.
In short, I lead a decidedly less glamorous life than when I was wearing a Wonderbra, while working at Forbes magazine as a photo editor, which I believe was the last time I wore a Wonderbra. But how many of you can say you are familiar with the use of a Wonderbar? In a couple of months when we are sitting back on the couch with a fire going in our wood stove, the smell of freshly baked bread in the air, the dog sleeping comfortably on his bed and the snow falling softly outside I will smile knowing that our mouldings were saved from being hideous by my expert removal with a Wonderbar...
A bientot,
Samantha
Dave came and took many measurements and we had a long brainstorming session about the kitchen last week. Now we need to be patient while he draws up plans and works out the budget. I am trying to distract myself from the creeping sense of anxiety that renovation of a house is causing me. The appliances have been ordered, they wait with their 20% deposit at the warehouse for us to say go! Truly wish that I could make a pie or something. Knitting is an admirable substitute.
Don is 98% done with gutting the upstairs bathroom. We have chosen a truly lovely tumbled brown marble tile for the walk in shower stall that will be the centerpiece of the 'master' bath. Mike has taken measurements and will order said tile. I think this means that work will begin on that bath soon. I am ready to see some construction progress. Demolition is not done, but I need some hint of what is to come.
I feel a bit aimless about what to work on here. I have been doing some transplanting in the gardens. The previous owners had some pretty misguided ideas about what to plant where. They were obviously enthusiastic about the property that surrounds the house, but I am stymied by their choices on a daily basis. We need to scrape and paint various parts of the siding on the outside of the house. This requires being able to get a ladder or a scaffolding right up next to the side of the house, preferably without crushing anything live. Our predecessors planted some large plants too close to the house. Gardening 101: do not plant large bushy specimens right next to your house. They grow too large and obscure your view from the inside, while distracting from the lines of your architecture. They also hold moisture next to your house which is bad for the siding and for your foundation/basement. There was a joe pye weed (also known as Eupatorium) which grows to six feet right up next to the house. And, wouldn't you know it, it was right where the peeling paint, that we need to repair before it snows, is. I am gathering that you have noticed the past tense there. I stalked this plant for the past ten days. I distracted myself by transplanting some of the (millions) of Sedums that were around it to other beds away from the house. I also transplanted a large clump of Asters that were choking each other, and not blooming to full potential as a result. But I couldn't seem to get myself to dig up the Joe Pye weed. It was so BIG and I was afraid that it wouldn't survive a move. Yesterday I finally got the nerve up and started to dig around it. The bugger fought back. I couldn't get all the way around it, and whenever I tried to pry it up the roots protested audibly. I gave up. Don came out and took over. I went to the garage to get another tool and when I came back he had it out and laying on the path. Just like that. sigh. So we moved it to another bed, which is a temporary move until next year when I have more beds to plant in (hopefully due to the addition of a patio area in the back courtyard) and I can find a more suitable home for the giant. We will see if it survives this first transplant.
This is a very long winded way of arriving at my intended topic. I feel somewhat removed from this renovation process. Some sort of emotional denial I'm sure. But there is one thing in this complicated soup of feelings about the house that I am excited about. [this is not to say that I am not excited about the new house and it's future as our home, but that I am not a huge fan of renovation, not having the patience or the foresight to appreciate what a wonderful place it will be when it is all done.] I am going to have a room of my own. This house on paper is a three bedroom abode. The upstairs consists of three rooms in a row, two in a typical NYC railroad apartment style, punctuated by two bathrooms. The 'Master' bedroom suite is at one end with it's own bathroom and the other end has a room all alone that's sole egress is to the small hall at the top of the kitchen stairs. This room will be my 'yarn' room. Of course both extra rooms will have beds, to be used for guests, and we sincerely hope we will have guests. But both spare bedrooms will also double as offices for each of us. One of the benefits of leaving the city: the additional space. I once before, in a previous life, had a room all of my own. I used it to sew (in another craft era) and to hide from my then husband, with whom I had a troubled relationship. It was my sanctuary. I was in a different place emotionally and psychologically then and the room stood for many things. Mostly it was a refuge. Life was messy but in my room I had some control.
I don't know whether I have that much in common with Virginia Woolf. However I am a firm believer in a room of one's own. I do not think this is a phenomenon limited to women. I think having a place of one's own to put things, to think, to be alone is very important to everyone, whether they are aware of it or not. I loved my loft in Brooklyn but I think I always missed having a nook that was just mine. I believe I function better with at least one contained space for myself, four walls where I can be all alone when the need, or desire, arises. Perhaps this has something to do with my flight from NYC. I like people, but I need solitude. I harbor fantasies of being the crazy old woman who lives down the lane that writes and gardens and bakes, but sometimes you just need to leave alone. I guess maybe I'm not a huge fan of humanity. I like individual people, but not the genus as a whole. Not claiming to be a misanthrope here, don't worry folks, I'm not getting weird on you from out here in the country. I am after all a Libra. We like to entertain. This is my schizoid nature revealing itself. I can engage with others for a spell, but then need to retreat to my shell to recharge.
So I started painting my room. Haven't finished it yet, it's been raining a lot, too wet to paint, maybe tomorrow. And Don has said it can be the first room we bring furniture into as it needs nothing more than paint and a new radiator.
And not to imply that knitting is at the bottom of my attention, but I received socks from a lovely woman in Missouri this morning. They are beautiful shades of early leaf changing and I am looking forward to the cooler days when I can wear them. Thank you Gwen from Ballwin.
A bientot,
Samantha
I imagine there are people in the world, probably many people, for whom this is a dream come true. If all the traffic on eGullet about appliances and kitchen design are any indication most folks fantasize regularly about their ideal kitchen. Me, I make whatever kitchen I have access to work as best as possible. This is not to say that I will not curse a poorly designed culinary space up and down the block. I have slammed my fair share of equipment in and out of cabinets that were too small and screeched when I ran out of counter space for rolling out cookie dough. In my last kitchen all of my flat items (cookie sheets, platters, muffin tins etc) were lined up on their sides with my cake pans as a wedge weighted down on the other side by my gratin dishes to hold them from sliding flat in one cabinet, not created for said purpose. Any time I needed a gratin dish the trays would slide down, loosing the platters (one of which is glass) and I would curse like a drunken sailor who has run out of grog.
But when it comes to designing a kitchen I draw a big blank. I reach for reference. Don and I spent most of an afternoon planted in the Home Design section of the Borders in Portland. We bought a book or two, we took notes, we have bought magazines. They all look nice. Well, maybe not all of them. Good god, the things people do with kitchens! I have seen farm animals painted on cabinet doors. I have seen sterile stainless steel arrangements that you know no one will ever cook in. I have seen TVs in the doors of refrigerators. Kitchens where every single surface was covered with some print: Gingham; Fleur de Lys; flowers; checks; tiles of many colors; their childrens faces. Please make it all stop! I guess maybe I have a better idea of what I don't want. Luckily for me, Don has a very good design sense: one which I have seen in action; I have lived with comfortably; and trust inherently. He also can put his ideas into words well so we have good lines of communication in this area. He also has grown an interest in cooking within the past year so he has some first hand knowledge about what does and does not work in a cooking space.
The basic bones of our kitchen are good. We are not moving the plumbing or the gas. The electric is all in the right place. We are not removing any (whole) walls. It is not a major undertaking in those areas. So you would think this should be pretty simple, huh? Maybe it is and I just am not good at visualizing the finished product. Don tells me he is going to help me load photos onto this blog. Maybe I will be able to show you what we are doing in the next couple of weeks. I will try and describe the pertinent bits as best I can. As it now stands the kitchen is an L with cabinets and appliances lining one long and one short wall. From left to right, around the corner you have: small counter with narrow cabinet; GE gas stove (relatively new); cabinet with counter top into corner; in corner is lazy susan below counter; right angle turn more counter with drawers below; sink; dishwasher; refrigerator. There is a window above the sink and one to the right of the stove. There were, when we bought the place, cabinets above and below the counter. Don has removed the above units. We do not intend to replace them, it was too claustrophobic. Instead we will have shallow shelves above. Fridge will be moved into area previously labeled 'breakfast nook'. Sorry, I am a snob, cannot stand labeling area of kitchen 'breakfast nook'. UGH.
So this is where the 'dream' part comes in. Former fridge location being given over to single electric wall oven by DCS. Bakers delight! Two deep drawers will reside below oven. Sink will become single basin unit with drain on far right side. Window over sink changing from one two pane crank jobby to a three pane awning variety. More light, better view of field outside back of house. Dishwasher will become Bosch. Stove will become DCS gas range with convection oven and 5 burners. Yikes. Chimney style hood above range. Probably pot rack in front of window next to stove. Maytag French style door refrigerator will move to currently unused area of kitchen which will be surrounded by buildt in cabinets below, and open shelves above. French door style means freezer below and side by side doors above. It's the newest thing, they are beautiful, look them up online, yum! No Sub-Zero for us, too many horrors stories online about reliability.
Our good friend Dave, who is going to build this kitchen for us, came and measured today and we all brainstormed. I can see it when we talk about it. It could be a beautiful thing. I guess I just won't believe it until I see it done. I am also holding my breath until I see his estimate for the job. The appliances set us back a few kibbles. I figure it a worthwhile investment, I will be spending much time in this room for the forseeable future. But lord those fancy appliances are Expensive.
Cross your fingers for me that it all works out. I would really like to get back to baking in my own kitchen.....
I just don't know how to sit down and write a couple short paragraphs.....
A bientot,
Samantha
Don't know if I still have any readers out there on the worldwide web but I have returned to the fold. I was unplugged for the better part of a month due to an inability to get anything other than dial up in our apartment in Kport without signing up for expensive cable. We are now homeowners in Coastal Alfred, Maine (inside joke, no shore but some lakes in the general vicinity) and so have invested in the dreaded cable internet hook up. Ask me if I miss my DSL from Brooklyn, just ask me. sob. Don assures me we will work the kinks out and both be able to be online at the same time. However for the meantime we must alternate, and after a month without that feels like a hardship. Woe is me.
We landed in Maine pretty gently, I still do not miss any services from NYC, save perhaps the walk to yoga class. We have taken posession of the house but have much work to do, including the kitchen and both bathrooms, so will not be moving in for a couple of months. Hoping we will be in residence by late November/early December. I am in an awkward position for a baker being that the oven in our crash pad/apartment is broken and all my batterie is in storage. Do not think there will be too much in the way of actual baking content here for a spell. I will try and keep you entertained with stories of renovation, which will include much thought and description of the perfect kitchen and how we can achieve said with our budget. But if you are looking for pure food you may want to take a break from the elf.
Things I have noticed since we have been here. Sippy cups at the bar in a couple of restaurants in town. Are the patrons worried about spilling their Stoli and tonics while traveling from the bartop to their mouths? Have they lowered the drinking age in Maine? Or there just entirely too many children being taken on vacation and therefore out to dinner with their parents. Don't people usually bring their own sippy cups? I saw some horrible Nanny 911 show on TV before we left NYC (and coincidentally TV service) that dealt with the whole 'sippy cup issue'. Not being a parent I was unaware that there was a 'sippy cup issue' but thsi program would you have believe that there is an epidemic of overuse of the sippy cup and that future generations will be damaged by their continued use past toddlerhood. I will not even attempt to go any further than this into the issue but I would extrapolate that the presence of sippy cups at the bars of restaurants in coastal Maine is a sign of very bad things to come....
Another observation. I realize this will stray into the beating of dead equines department, but it bears mentioning that people a much nicer out of NYC. So much more "Hi, how can I help you?" and "You have a nice day, now!" and "I'll show you where you can find that grade of sandpaper in the store, it's just down this way, follow me". I'm not sure when I am going to get used to not locking my car when I go into the store. I am confused by the lack of keys I need to carry or use. I still have a New Yorkers blood in my veins because while I may not lock the door to our apartment when we leave, I nonetheless will hide things so that if anyone were to mosey in they would have to look hard to find the camera or my checkbook. At some point it will become comfortable, perhaps even second nature, but not yet. We have met all of our immediate neighbors at the house. They have all come over and introduced themselves, some bearing vegetables, flowers even a zucchini bread. They all want to know who we are, where we came from, why we moved here and mostly they seem to want to compare us the former owners of the house. Luckily we seem to come out on the right side of that comparison. From the picture painted by our neighbors the previous owners of this house were not happy people. One neighbor suggested we Sage the house. She said she could hear their fights from across the street. We are hoping to bring some happiness and peace to the property. Maybe even some chickens, goats? sheep, perhaps alpaca?
We are embarking on a long project. We have an 1850's farmhouse on 18.66 acres with three attached barns. The house has been modernized, all the walls inside are sheetrock, the furnace is no more than 5 years old and we are the last house on our road on town water. The roof is sound, the plumbing is good, the windows are new and we have a hook up for a wood stove. We do need a new lining for the chimney for that hook up, the bathrooms, while completely functional are hideous and the kitchen (also functional) is pathetic. We have renovating to do. We are hoping to do all of the demolition ourselves and we have friends who have buildt their own house who say they will help us.
Oh oh, dog got into skunk AGAIN, twice in two days. Must go wash creature in vinegar.....
A bientot,
Samantha