Bringing the floor back to life

The kitchen floor needed help.  Actually, it needed help the last time I lived here, but THIS time I decided to tackle it before I actually move in.  (It helps to have a space completely devoid of belongings when you want to do something like this right.) 

The floor, despite being part of a 200 year old farmhouse, is nothing special...it's a patchwork of different kinds of lumber, replaced parts, 3 significant holes (like, big enough to twist your ankle in!), and a variety of other factors all come into play. 

I started with a palm sander.  This was frustrating, and backbreaking.  So I rented a large floor sander.  Complete and total failure, waste of a day and money.  You cant use a large sander on boards that are...ummmm...full of character.  Back to the palm sander and 40 grit paper. 

It's getting there.  Today I put the first coat of poly on it.  :)

Two years gone by

Two years ago today, mom died.

Depending on how I look at it, it feels like forever or it feels like it was just yesterday.  Mostly it feels like it was yesterday.

I still cry a lot when I think of her. 

I'm 42 now.  When my mom was 42, I was 14 years old.  Wow!  I knew my mom when she was YOUNG, and didn't even realize it!  When you're a kid, everything seems different.  It's hard to grasp time and age concepts. 

It's quiet at the house without mom. 

After two years, I notice strange things.  I notice that the windows haven't been washed, and I wince and put it on my mental to-do list.  (Mom had a seasonal schedule for that.) 

I notice the dust on the mantle. 

I notice that family photos never made it back up after the living room was emptied for new flooring last year.

I notice that moms clothespin apron is in the exact same place it was on top of the dryer...as the last time she put it there.

I notice that most of her baking supplies haven't been touched...which means they are far older than two years and should probably be thrown away now.

I notice that you can put something somewhere...and it might not get moved for months, if at all.  It's strange.  It's the same house, but the things in it have been granted a different lifestyle. 

I notice that the underbrush in the woods has grown up, and when I went out to trim the wilderness back, I could see moms old pruning cuts.  I had no idea she even did that!  I never thought about it.

I now use the upstairs level of the house when I'm here, and I notice that there are no less than 5 old toothbrushes in the bathroom.  And some of them look suspiciously like childrens toothbrushes.  Could it be?  No!  Certainly mom would have thrown out Kurts (and mine) old toothbrushes.  But maybe not.

I notice that this home...is empty.  It's almost just a house now.  Dad talks of selling it, and moving to assisted living.  The entire upstairs is empty.  It's still got the same paint and rugs in it that each of us picked out back in 1980.

This used to be a vibrant, thriving home. 

We take so much for granted as we grow up.

My mother made this her home.

Camp for Sale: Spectacle Pond, Maine

Camp for Sale...Osborn, Maine.  (About 1 hour east of Bangor, south of Rt 9)

1 acre of land, 45 second walk from beach on Spectacle Pond.

1 double bed, two twin beds.

Kitchen, living/dining room, pantry off of kitchen.

Propane lights, stove, refrigerator.

Generator for other lights. 

Wood stove, 2 large woodsheds.

Outhouse, brand new.

Storage shed for mowers, tools, etc.

Trails behind house for walking.

Nice yard, well kept up.

Asking $80,000.

Call Dave Libby (owner) 508-450-1153. 

Trail to beach

Spectacle Pond

Picnic table and campfire pit in yard

Trail behind house

Living/Dining area, looking towards kitchen

Living/dining area from kitchen

Kitchen

Twin beds upstairs

Catwalk/hall to front bedroom

Catwalk looking down to living/dining area

Double bed bedroom

Stairwell.  Dog not included.  :)

Wood stove

Surrounding area, typical landscape

Edgar 1999-2012

I am about to say goodbye to one of the greatest dogs ever.  Edgar has cancer (many cancers, actually) and it hurts for him to open his mouth now to eat...or do anything.  He can barely lick his nose without crying out.  I wake at night to his moans of discomfort.

This is SO hard for me.  The practical former vet tech KNOWS it's the right thing to do but WOW.  I am in agony.

I will miss his snoring, his floppy ear, his barrel chest.  I will miss his red harness (red is for danger, you know), his confident stride, his love of water.  I will miss his enthusiasm for everything, his tolerance for my other 2 dogs, his willingness to do things like...go canoeing.  I will miss his bright eyes and preference for sleeping on top of the covers.  I will miss how he loved to lick my cats face and ears.  I will miss the way his toes scrape the road as he trots, because they don't quite clear the surface.  I will miss his deep woof.  I will miss his amiable flexibility...it didn't matter if it was a night at home or a night in the car, the 3 of us were always together. 

I adopted Edgar when he was 7.  He had been brought to an animal hospital to be put to sleep.  There was nothing wrong with him...

I am grateful to have been able to spend the last 5 years with him.  He was a GREAT dog!!