The End of the Saga

Hi all. After some reflection, I've decided this blog has probably run its course. Things are at a stand-still at the moment, waiting for flooring, and after that there are only tiny things to do, such as the baseboards, trim, balcony railing, etc. So from the perspective of the renovations, there isn't much else to report. We're still here, but we're boring, so I think I'm going to wind this blog down and just focus on my other long-running blog, My Daily Slog Blog

I hope you'll take the time to check it out, and thank you to all who have read and supported this blog over the past thousand years this church renovation has lasted. 😊

When it comes time to hold events at the church, as we're planning to do, we'll post those on the Watford/Warwick Facebook page and also think about developing a website to announce those. All the best!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while

Life has taken a swerve recently, so I haven't written much lately. I'm grappling with a personal loss at the moment, and will come back soon. Thanks for your patience!

Brrrrr

It's about -20 out. I step outside to let Brio out, and my nostrils instantly stick together and my eyeballs sting as they start to freeze over. I ball my fists up inside my gloves and try not to let the lining of my coat touch my arms, because the air pocket between lining and skin is warmer. My toes go numb in my boots within a minute. The snow has that squeaky sound it gets when it's so cold it's dried to styrofoam.

And the kids next door are out playing hockey on the sidewalk as if it's summer. At least today they're wearing coats. Yesterday they were in t-shirts and shorts. Even Brio rolls in the snow and pushes his face into drifts, delighted.

I fully acknowledge I'm a wimp.

The Amazingness of Neighbours

It's been a little while since we came up to the church, and it's been dumping snow for the past while. Yesterday when we arrived, we found the driveway cleared and the big snowplow dump moved aside so we could park our car. Our wonderful neighbour took it upon himself to keep it clear in case we arrived. Isn't that the sweetest, most amazing thing? What could make you feel more welcome?

A Time to Dance

It's that time of year when we've turned the corner and are heading back into light. But it's still pretty dark and dreary, especially when you suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. I need a pick-me-up. So what say we hold another dance here at the church? Who's in?

Time Zips By!

It's hard to believe it's been a month since I last posted. Sorry about that! Life has a way of catching up with you and yanking you in directions you hadn't intended. I'm here, just a bit distracted.

We're approaching the end of the year, a time when people start thinking about goals and accomplishments. I try to avoid this in general. I'm not a big believer in setting goals, especially new year ones. To me, goal-setting is all about planning to be the person you want to be, whereas I prefer to just start being that person. For example, if you want to be a more patient person, just start being patient. Right now, in this moment. And then in the next moment, and the next. If you mess up, you start again and just be patient in that moment. You can start over as many times as you need to. No one is keeping count. All the little "now" moments add up to change. But if you sit back and set a goal and post it on your fridge and talk about it a lot, you may end up (to paraphrase Tagore) spending your days tuning your guitar but never actually singing the song you came to sing.

Winter, to me, is a time for reflection and quiet cocooning. People ask me what project we're going to do next on the church, and the only thing that comes to mind right now is: I'll be doing a lot of puzzles. Baking pumpkin bread. Curling up with a fuzzy blanket and a Jenny Colgan novel. Turning on the music and dancing in the sanctuary, maybe with a friend or two. Sipping peppermint tea while the steam fogs my glasses. Watching the snow bend the cedar branches. Being in the moment. And yes, playing my guitar. 

Redick Professional Tree Care

A shout-out and big thank you to Redick for doing a great job trimming our big old cedar trees. The trees had grown into the powerline and were hanging over the neighbouring townhouse complex, so pruning was needed. They were careful around our septic system and cleaned up everything afterward. I highly recommend their service.

Cedar is such a pretty colour, isn't it? We saved one piece to make something with. 

Annual phenomenon

I'm always fascinated by the fact that, every year, these two trees, which are the same species and age and planted about twenty feet apart, turn colours and drop their leaves about a month or more apart.

Thanks to my neighbour Brenda for the picture!

Exploring

Took a much-needed break from yardwork today and spent a great morning at Ipperwash Beach with a friend and her children. Brio came along and found lots to sniff and explore. He chased a few seagulls and even got all four feet in the lake, which is a big deal for my water-hating dog. I hadn't been to Ipperwash before, and I loved the rolling breakers and "ocean" breeze. I could quite contentedly spend the rest of my life watching the waves. If I lived with that view, I would get very little else done.

Afterward, we stopped to check out Kettle Point on the way home. Such interesting rock formations and paper-thin layers of shale. Beautiful autumn colours. Perfect temperature. A lovely day!

It always seems to come down to gravel

Once again, I'm solving a problem with a shovel and a wheelbarrow. We had a back step (concrete slab) that had sunk so that rain water would flow toward the foundation instead of away from it. It was too big and heavy to lift to angle it away from the building. So a kind neighbour pushed it out of the way with his handy little tractor thingy (okay, I'm a city girl and don't know the names of equipment, okay?). That left us with a big drop from the back door.

We priced having pre-fab concrete steps brought in. We thought about having a big rock brought in to serve as a step. But the septic pipe runs right below that door, and we didn't want to put anything in place that would be impossible to move later if access were needed to the pipe. Also didn't want to damage the pipe by putting a lot of weight on it.

So this weekend my clever husband built a sturdy 10" tall wooden box and ordered in 6000 lbs of limestone screening. Yes. We filled the box, tamped it down well, and put four 18" pavers on it, and voila! A step.

Hubby has to return home today, but the hard lifting is done. I'm now using the rest of the screening to raise the ground level around the whole foundation of the church, just to help combat the sinking that occurred after all the waterproofing we've had done around the foundations. I have a few days to do it before I go back to the city, but it shouldn't be a problem. I'm becoming quite adept at using a wheelbarrow.

Happy Thanksgiving to my Canadian readers!

Books

So...I've hosted three used book sales over the past while, and there really hasn't been much response. I expected at least the local conservation area campers would be interested, but no one showed, not even when I advertised FREE books. So I've hauled ten boxes of books to the thrift store in Sarnia, and I'm turning the room into my own personal library. I've got all the books I've stored away here at the church on two sets of shelves, and I'll get one more set to hold the books I'll bring up from the city. There's a comfy chair that I tried out this morning, snuggling down to read before dawn. Very satisfactory!

Applesauce!

Ordered a bushel of Ginger Gold apples from Warwick Orchards. I tried them for the first time last year, and while they're a bit soft and mealy for dehydrating, they're perfect for applesauce. No sugar or anything required. They turn a lovely pinkish colour when you process them. I leave mine a little chunky instead of totally smooth, and minus the cost of the lids, they're just over half the cost of store-bought pints of applesauce.

A friend is going to come over so we can do apples together. She is leaning toward jelly and apple butter, and I conveniently own a steam juicer that makes jelly much easier.

I love this time of year. Huge tractors thundering down the road like some kind of Transformers. The golden fields. The V of geese against the silver sky. Tucking in, storing up, squirreling away. Making the switch from cucumber salads to potato soups. This year instead of storing zucchini in the freezer, I'm making it into bread first and freezing that, so it's ready to eat. I also make the same recipe with pumpkin or butternut squash. With a handful of hickory nuts thrown in, there's nothing better.

Here's to autumn! My favourite season.

The Joy of Small Accomplishments

Life will sometimes reach an occasional plateau. Periods of feverish activity are followed by doldrums where nothing much happens. Sometimes this is good, because it gives you time to recuperate and regroup. But sometimes those stretches of inactivity extend so long that the whole project is derailed.

We'd reached this point with the church renovations. Four years of frenetic work was followed by a year of nothing much being accomplished as we let the bank account (and our bodies) rest and recover. But lately we've discovered we've become used to the construction debris and had adapted to living around it. The same pile of damaged wood trim remained in the same spot, and we were merely living around it, as if it was a permanent fixture. There was the possibility that we'd grow so used to it, we'd stop seeing it. Recuperation was threatening to become inertia.

So...this week we decided to tackle just a couple of small, bite-sized projects, so that we could see some progress. We had kept a big, heavy cupboard that was left in the old laundry room. It's metal lined, with mesh shelves, and weighs a ton. It's been on its side, acting as both an island and a roadblock, for five years, but we've talked about turning it into a cheese-curing cupboard. This week we finally bought some wheels, reinforced the bottom, and got it standing upright and moveable (and out of the way). Relief! The whole room looks huge now.

We spent a day cutting out styrofoam to block the upstairs windows when we're away (heat block in summer, insulation in winter). It's an inelegant solution and won't be permanent, but it works for now.

We bought some trim to finish off the windowsills in the basement (not installed yet, but ready to tackle on our next trip up). 

We finally framed the Ikea print we bought four years ago, and now it's on the bedroom wall and looks amazing. Turns out the colours are perfect.

And last night we dragged out the damaged trim that goes in the front stairwell, set it in place, and spent half an hour debating how to restore it. Again, not completed, but in place and ready to tackle on another trip.  

It may not seem like much got accomplished, but the barrier has been breached and creativity is flowing again. Sometimes you just need to start, to spend that five minutes getting going again, to break through the inertia. When a project looks too big to tackle, pick one small piece of it to focus on. Tell yourself you're allowed to stop after that initial step. You may find you can keep going once the momentum kicks in, or you may allow yourself to stop after that step, and either one is okay. It's progress, and no one says you have to sprint to the finish line. And sometimes there may not be a finish line, because it's all about the journey, and that's okay too.

Finally, a Break in the Heat!

The heat wave of the past couple of weeks has finally broken, and I feel human again. The delicate air at sunrise, the drop in humidity---ahhh! Yesterday was spent mowing, and today will be spent weed whacking, but hoping Friday to go to Lake Huron for a stroll. I love to walk with no particular destination in mind, exploring as I go. The path along the lake in Bright's Grove is especially pleasant. There's something about looking out over that vast expanse of water, feeling the breeze on my face, that is delicious to me. Well, that and the corn dogs at the food truck that's always parked nearby...

Here are the photos of the new kitchen furnishings

Now all we need is a floor!

It's Always About Water!

We have had nothing but water issues with this church. Leaking foundations, leaking roof, leaking water heater, flood door installation, water under the front stairs---you name it, it's gone wrong and it's always to do with water. We fix things and they either don't stay fixed or there's yet another problem that arises somewhere else. This week it's the dehumidifier again. We got a brand new one five years ago, replaced it entirely a few months ago, and now it's leaking yet again. And this isn't a Canadian Tire sort of dehumidifier, mind you, it's a whole-building one that's practically the size of a chest freezer. And of course Hayters, who installed it (twice) has gone out of business. As temperatures rise, humidity soars, and I'm worried about all the books going moldy and the wood floor warping and...

Just once I'd like to fix something and then stop having to pay attention to it. There are days, I admit, that I want to sell everything I own and run screaming into the night.

A trip to the nursery

 A friend invited me along to go buy some hazelnut trees with her and her daughters. I'm always up for an adventure! We drove to Windover Nurseries, a fascinating place I hadn't heard of before. Established in 1918, the nursery has been at that location since 1945. I knew the minute we arrived that there would be cool stuff to see and varieties of plants that most garden centres don't carry. 

The majority of the property was filled with potted trees of all kinds, including natives and Carolinian varieties (see my book The Garden Plot---Carolinian forests are an interest of mine). Sourgums and Tulip Trees and Paw Paws and Shagbark Hickory. Azaleas in lipstick colours, corkscrew hazels, Ninebark, and butterfly bushes. There was an interesting shop with lawn ornaments and ceramic pots, with a back room where the bare-root trees were kept. Stepping into the shop was like stepping into my grandpa's shed, that damp wood smell I can't really describe but that defined his home, and I was instantly transported to my childhood. Lovely!

To one side of the shop, there's a memorial garden planted with natives, commemorating the original founder of the nursery. I puttered there for a bit while my friend and her kids went exploring, as the back part of the property was mostly mud and I was woefully unprepared in my tennis shoes, while they had galoshes. Note to self for next time: adventures with Erin usually require boots.

There were several greenhouses, the opaque plastic cracking in the wind, filled with flowers. An elusive cinnamon scent rose in one of them, but even though we stuck our noses into everything, we never did trace it to its origin. Artemisia, coneflowers of all colours, herbs, scented geranium. My friend's daughter bought a packet of alyssum to take home, a sweet, contented smile lighting her face as she chose it and carried it to the register. It was a warming thing, that simple flowers could cause that kind of quiet joy. 

My friend folded two hazelnut trees into her trunk and we were off, but I'll definitely be back. It's a beautiful corner of the earth worth revisiting.

Windover Nurseries, Inc. Petrolia

Absolute Decadence

I expected my husband to arrive this week, but he has been delayed in the city, giving me another week (or possibly two) on my own. Other than some vacuuming and laundry, I have been absolutely lazy. Popcorn, watching movies, reading, working on stained glass, crocheting, writing, taking long walks, baking cornbread. I noticed the Little Free Library at the conservation area was looking sparse, so I took up two grocery bags of books to stock it up a bit for the start of summer. Today I'm having a book sale here at the church. I might make myself set up a folding table outside to start sanding down some shelves, if the weather cooperates. I guess, looking back at this paragraph, that I have been busy, not lazy, but I'm not sure that my activities have contributed anything to the universe.

There have been times my husband and I have considered downsizing to a condo, but I think, on the whole, it wouldn't give me enough to do. I miss working in my yard, weeding my garden. I have a need for physical activity that mere walking doesn't meet. A week (or possibly two) of this is a welcome luxury, but any longer and I would start to feel antsy. It would help if I had access to a car here, but really, it isn't about filling in time. I want to accomplish something. Be of use. Be of service. 

New Kitchen Units

My husband and I go mall-walking with a herd of other seniors several mornings a week. On our circuit, we pass the Hudson's Bay Company, which is sadly going bankrupt after 355 years. I wandered in one day, curious what they sold, as I don't think I'd been in one of their stores before, at least not in many years. In addition to liquidating all their inventory, they were also selling the furnishings---tables, shelves, etc. Well!

Flash forward to us renting a Home Depot van and buying an entire kitchen-worth of units for the church at ridiculously discounted prices. Two of our sons helped with the hefting and hauling, returning with my husband to the city while I stayed on to organize it all. Our chef son had some ideas about how to lay it all out, but hubby had other ideas, and in the end we've come up with a workable design.

On the south wall, there's a stainless steel restaurant table on each side of the stove, as well as the fridge. The shelves below the tables will hold the baking pans and pots. On the north wall, the sink is flanked on each side by a short baker's rack with laminate "butcher block-looking" counters, where I'll store dishes, glassware, etc., and then there's a third counter unit turned inward to serve as a peninsula. This will allow me to stand facing into the room rather than working with my back to the room. (I worked for a couple of years at a mental hospital and a year at a police station, and I'm uncomfortable having my back to the room). One the west wall is a window, and on the east wall are two tall baker's racks with plastic bins holding canned goods and dry goods. There's also a shelf of small appliances, where I can plug in the crockpot or bread machine or dehydrator, etc. out of the way of the work surfaces.

It looks a bit, well, full, since the open racks allow you to see everything you own. At some point I will splurge on nice opaque or coloured baskets to hold everything, but for now, the clear plastic bins from the dollar store will have to do. It feels good to have actual counters, as we've been making do with folding tables until now. I think it will work out fine, once I'm used to it. And the best part about having free-standing units is that, when it comes time to install flooring, they're easily moved in and out, or rearranged if we decide to try a different layout. Having everything in totes and bins would make moving stuff around easier and makes my little Admin Assistant heart happy, as if I'm filing my tins of soup and beans.

I don't have a camera with me, but will add pictures at some point. When hubby comes back to pick me up, we'll see what he thinks about the way I've organized it. We have a cooking area, a serving area, a washing-up area, and a prep/baking area. To be fair, hubby does the majority of the cooking, so he gets the final say. The baking, however, is usually my domain, so I'll have the say in that part of the kitchen.

Ta da! Progress!

Keeping it all in perspective

I once had a friend over to the church for a visit, and I was acutely aware, as she entered, that the place is still very much a construction zone. A folding table loaded with tools takes up the dining area. Heaps of nail-studded old boards. Tarps and stacks of half-disassembled windows and paint cans and drop cloths and scaffolding and...

But when I apologized for the mess, her reply was, "Who am I to judge? I don't even have running water!" And I was immensely grateful, not just for her grace and humour, but for the gift of perspective. We tend to criticize ourselves (far more than the world does) and see only our failings. But as my sister's kids' riding instructor says, "You can't look pretty while learning something new." Or, I would add, when doing something difficult. It's good to stop the self-critical voice in your head sometimes and acknowledge how far you've come, what you have accomplished, and what strengths you've gained. Yes, my place is a mess. But I've become not half-bad at drywalling. Sure, there are stacks of unfinished projects. But I've discovered a real love of working with my hands, especially with wood. I see myself as a producer more than a consumer. I have dreams and can envision new possibilities. This is creative clutter. It's the sign of Things Happening, and so I can now look on it with---maybe not fondness, but at least tolerance and acceptance. And I can look at myself with more of that, too.

And here are some flowers for you from last year's garden, in case you need cheering, too.