What Housework?

That was then, this is now

"Then" was last night.

"Now" is this morning.

Can you spot the difference?

Apparently much of the Northeast is getting hammered by a winter storm. We got only a dusting, but I took my camera out this morning for chores.

I'm pretty sure this isn't the only snow we'll see this winter. (I'm psychic.)

The animals seemed a little concerned, too.

The goats and sheep have actually been enjoying a lot of freedom lately, ever since they decided that that whole "fence" thing wasn't working out for them. We ended up taking the gate right off and they're tidying up the yard at their leisure. That's going to end soon, as they keep eating all the chickens' food. But for now it's interesting, to say the least.

Last week:

Lucy sometimes pretends she's a turkey.

Mama turkey ended up with two poults.

That puts us up somewhere around a dozen turkeys. If you factor in how many we will slaughter for Thanksgiving, we should have, oh, exactly the same number left. We just haven't been able to do these guys in, I don't know why. Lucky them.

However, this is a great time of year for food around here. The freezers are packed with pork, beef and chicken. The shelves are full of tomatoes and applesauce, apple butter and apple jelly. If something hadn't eaten Every Last One of my pie pumpkins and various types of squashes (insert sob here), we'd be all set.

I made one last foray out into the garden the other day. Turned out to be a good thing, mostly because I found our two beef cows had knocked down the pigpen fence to help themselves to the grass outside their pasture. But also because I discovered a lot more hot peppers than I had noticed before. Stunningly red.

I also remembered I had planted a bunch of broccoli rabe in a spot formerly occupied by beans. Last year it got chewed full of holes, but this year? Beautiful.

Cook the stems in olive oil, garlic and coarse salt, then add the leaves toward the end, and  you're good to go. Delicious. I believe I have some kale out there too...

I have to admit I've been slacking in the yardwork/gardening/fall cleanup area. The first burst of chilly air sent me right to the couch with my knitting needles. My husband has worked, I think, seven of the past eight weekends, possibly more. Seriously, he works seven days a week, which is awful except that it means business is good. It's been a while since we could say that.

Without him here being the farmer dude, I find it quite easy to sit guilt-free and knit all weekend. The gardens need work. But I've made some stuff.

My niece had a baby last week, but since they decided not to find out the gender I decided to knit just one small thing for now. It's a girl (Cori), so now I can move ahead. I think this was pretty timely:

Meanwhile, I cranked out Vivian, by Ysolda Teague. By far the most challenging thing I have ever knit. I'm fairly happy with the results, although the sleeves are way too long, as shown in the second picture.

The cables were pretty complex, but there was also shaping going on in between them that required constant vigilance. Due to my short supply of constant vigilance, I ended up doing a lot of ripping out and re-knitting. My husband said technically I should have three sweaters for all the knitting I did. (Correct, but two of them would be completely messed up.)

I immediately started another cardigan. Then I decided I needed a cowl (our office has already switched to winter tundra climate), which will be done today, I hope. Then my sister-in-law called last night to ask if I had any yarn for mittens for her.

"Sure," I said. "But I didn't know you knew how to knit."

"I don't," she said. "I was hoping you'd make them for me."

I'll probably move those to the front of the line, and then I have to spin more yarn for the lining for my very lovely mittens made months ago, since the stuff I spun last time was way too bulky to work. I tried.

Maybe I'll just use commercial yarn. It depends on how warm I want these to be. And how soon I need them...

So, you probably saw in my Vivian pictures above, that the gray hair is coming right in. Not evenly, unfortunately, but it's coming fast and furious. I'm 43. I have been offered the senior discount (over 50) on more than one occasion. Does this bother me?

Yes and no.

Yes, because I feel like I shouldn't have to dye my hair just to appear younger to other people, and yes, because I'm ticked off that I'm going gray so soon.

But no, because as it happens, I'm feeling pretty good these days. I believe I'm in the best shape of my entire life. I have tons of energy, I'm strong, and I have muscles. As of today I'm halfway through "Insanity: The Asylum," another of Beachbody.com's crazy-intense workout DVD series, and I'm rocking it, people. So, to offset the old lady pictures above, I'm including this one, the Asylum "before" shot:

I'll say it again: If you are over 40 and think you're past your prime and there's nothing you can do about it, think again. I, for one, plan to kick ass for quite a few years yet.

Now excuse me while I go refill my coffee and have another scone. (I earned it.)

Let there be light

The husband came through with his awesome wiring skills. After five years in this house, we now have a dining room light I approve of. (As a small warning, let me say I am well aware of the popcorn ceiling, unpainted bookcase and tattered bland curtains that say "Jessie's dining room." We're working on it. Slowly.)

Before:

You'll admit it lacks a certain ambiance. Even lit.

Not only was it not good for seeing your food but the glare when reading a newspaper could positively blind you. 

I saw somewhere online that people have refurbished older "brass" chandeliers cheap, so I decided that's what I would do. I have re-wired ceiling fixtures before. How hard could it be? (Cue violins in minor key.)

First, to find a chandelier. I trolled eBay for weeks and then came upon the perfect item. Hanging in my friend Jenn's kitchen. She swore she wasn't using it (it was not even over her table) and I offered to take it down. My husband, fortunately, stepped in and did the work, including replacing it with the above ceiling light so she could have some emergency overhead lighting, because it was not a straightforward job and I would have left wires hanging out of her ceiling. 

Then I went home and got to work.

I ditched the old-fashioned flutey/frosted glass globes, wiped the lamp down, and masked off the unpaintable parts, like so:

Cleaned the little "candle stumps" (so realistic!) with a toothbrush and soapy water.

I had to get a little creative to clean inside the brass cups.

Next, I had to cover those candle stumps. Online I had seen people use newspaper and masking tape, but I found something better. If you are not lucky enough to have college students in your house, you might not have plastic shot glasses on hand. But I did.

Perfect fit.

Voila.

Next, I took a can of metal primer and got to work. Eventually I realized hanging the light worked better than setting on newspaper. Live and learn. Also, it was damp and drizzly so it took longer than the "15 minutes" mentioned on the can. More like two days.

I then hung it, and did the necessary touchups, and then got to the fun part: the finish coat in matte black. Only it appears I never took pictures of that step. 

Moving on: Rewiring. The old cord was old and frayed and only a few inches long. Apparently this had been mounted close to the ceiling in its original location, but ours would need to hang lower and be swagged over to the center of our table. I bought seven feet of black wire and seven feet of black link chain and took apart the lamp guts. I pulled out the old main wire and threaded the new wire down through the center of the light.

Below you see the new wires, stripped. I joined them to the five wires from the arms of the light (which were not in bad shape) and wire nutted them together. Again, no more pictures. What is wrong with me?

Next the lamp sat for weeks and weeks as my husband continued his unbroken streak of now 26 days without a day off. 

Tuesday night he came home, dog tired, and suggested that we get the lamp off the table and hung over it. Being a contractor with a background in electrical, he happened to have two toolboxes devoted to wiring, which he brought in.

You know my personal motto, right? "Nothing is easy."

And so this old phrase proved true again. The box that had held the ceiling wires had been improperly installed by the former owner of our house and was ready to fall out. It was the wrong size. Plaster ceiling fell out in chunks. But he did wire the light.

Then I handed him the new dimmer switch to install. Again, the switch had been put in improperly and the new dimmer was too deep to fit in the existing box. Over the course of a couple of hours and numerous trips out to the workshop, he managed to get a box to fit the hole and get it all installed.

And, drum roll please, we now have a dining room light:

I was not allowed to show the plate on the ceiling because there's a piece of plaster missing and my husband didn't want his reputation ruined online. There's also a hole next to the ceiling hook where he drilled the "center" hole in the wrong place. He blames me for holding the tape wrong; I blame him for not listening to me when I said it didn't seem right. Whatever, there's other patching to be done so I'm not worried about it.

Edited to add: Anyway, in case anyone is curious, I didn't track all the expenses on this project, but I believe I had about $10 in spray paint and $30 in dimmer switch, wire, chain and lightbulbs. I consider that money well spent.

That's all I got for now except this:

That's a BLT made with homemade bread and homegrown bacon, lettuce and tomato. (Actually that's baby broccoli rabe greens because I didn't have lettuce. Humor me.) It's probably the last BLT of the summer so I feel it deserves recognition. Delicious.