It is predawn on Christmas morning. I will watch the sunrise this morning out the front window before me, as I write. A blanket of fresh snow has fallen overnight, and I hope to take a photo of the house to add to this blog before I finally post, later today. I am enjoying an unexpected Christmas gift: time to write. It is a present I give to myself. I perceive it to be for you, as well. It is such a joy for me to write, and since my last post, I have waited eagerly for the time to sit once again to do so. We have been busy here at the house and I want to fill you in on all of it.
Sometime around Thanksgiving, Randy and I decided to finish the living room. It was so glum, and is the first room you see upon entering the house. The drop ceiling had been torn down and the fireplace had been uncovered. The walls were blue and dotted here and there with lines and patches of plaster repair that had Randy had done previously. The ceiling was a mess, with a large piece of plaster missing, exposing the wood lathe underneath. We had worked on this room before we moved in, but never finished, as we made the decision to shift our focus on completing the rooms we absolutely needed to live in.
Sometime in early December, up went the plastic vapor barriers in the doorways, and down came parts of the crumbling ceiling. This ceiling was particularly dingy and covered with soot, as this chimney housed the vent from the furnace below. The first week we owned the house we were shocked to discover that the furnace exhaust was leaking into the room. We think often of the prior owners, and their health. They must have had no idea.
Randy chased the cracks to find any loose plaster, which easily released from the ceiling, and he let gravity do the rest. Once the loose plaster is cleared away, he has developed a very clever method of mapping the wood lathe gaps with butcher paper. 
He first tapes the paper to the ceiling over a hole and traces the empty space. The paper is taken down and then cut, creating a template which is applied to sheet rock, traced and finally cut. The sheet rock then fits into the hole like a puzzle piece. A perfect fit, later to be plastered, sanded, plastered and sanded. I know the drill, as I assisted as much as my time would allow. This went on for about two weeks and what a mess it made! We did our best to keep the plastic covering the doorway, but the dust followed us out, and we were covered with it (yes, we wore masks, too). Trying to mix plaster and clean up indoors, without making a mess is near impossible. I cleaned it all up one Sunday, to find that Monday evening when I arrived home it was as if I had never cleaned. I gave up and decided to just live with the mess until the plastering was done. Yesterday, we put the final coat of paint on the ceiling and walls, replaced the radiator and moved the furniture back in. What a treat it was to sit and enjoy the beautiful space for the first time, on Christmas Eve!
The last time I wrote about the restorations, we had just finished sealing up the house with the storm windows and completing the heating system. I will say that things are running smoothly. Randy has re-insulated a few more spots here and there. He added a foam board insulation panel at the top of the stairs to the attic, and one on the back door leading from the kitchen to the shop. The old weather stripping was removed from the four exterior doors and replaced to tighten up the door jams. He even added some new molding to seal things up. Lastly, we moved things around upstairs, so that the entire north side of the house can be shut down for the winter. In addition, the “servant’s quarters” are also closed up and unheated, in the back of the house above the kitchen . In total, about a third of the house is not heated now, and it is working out beautifully. We have had two oil deliveries thus far, and we are pleased to find that we’re not consuming ridiculous amounts of oil.
Before winter set in, we had done some work outside moving some of the giant bluestone slabs to start our back patio. We also re-set the first of the enormous stones leading to our front door. There had been a pair of old maple trees growing in the front yard, one on either side of the walkway. Over the years, their roots buckled the stones and heaved the walkway about a foot left of the front door. In the spring, we plan to finish the job, re-leveling and centering the path once again. 
I spent one fall day building a small stone wall to create a planter for assorted bulbs given to us by friends. In cleaning up around the barn, we found and unearthed another bluestone walkway buried beneath inches of sod. These stones are different, very long, skinny and more practical than the ones out front. We bought and set up a compost barrel and found a new spot for our laundry line on the back hillside. Our neighbor Jay handed on to us an almost new box spring and mattress, which we set up in one of our guest rooms. Randy moved the water pump in the basement, so that it was far enough away from the new electrical panel in the basement to meet the electrical code. We passed the electrical inspection. All that, plus we bought and refinished a piece of furniture for the bathroom and raised the roof in the workshop, out back (I may have mentioned that previously).
Last, but not least, we ordered new appliances for the kitchen which will arrive early in January. We will install the refrigerator right away, but the stove is gas, and will require a new line. The local gas company won’t do it until spring. Yes, imagine that! This is one of the perks of life in the country. The dishwasher will also wait until we have renewed our energy for the next big project, which will entail re-configuring the sink and the necessary plumbing for a dishwasher.
Oh yes, and we we painted the front door, late in October which was quite the process! The door had been red, and wanted to stay red. The first coat of white primer turned pink. We switched primers and the second coat of white primer turned a paler shade of pink. Pretty, but not what we wanted. We had to buy an oil based white to cover the pink, and then hallelujah the door was white, which could then be painted over with the indigo blue we had chosen. Gorgeous!
Now, I hesitate to share this piece of the story, as it has a darker, not so joyous ending. Anyone who has owned an old house with a stone foundation knows this chapter. This is the part about the little critters that sneak around in the night They have been inhabiting this home for years. The previous owner used to pride herself in feeding them beneath the porch out back. I on the other hand, do not appreciate cohabitating with non-domestic animals. And so the extermination began when the cold weather set in and they all moved back in to their winter quarters. Our nights were not silent. We had mice, squirrels and flying squirrels. YIKES!! The mice I knew how to handle. It took me a while to figure out that we had flying squirrels, let alone how to get rid of them. This tale included me experiencing first hand why they are called “flying” squirrels, and a literal launch off of the bridge next door. I had hoped to dispose of the poor little creature in the stream, but the clever little rodent simply went spread eagle and glided to the water, where he then swam to the shore and climbed a tree. I was aghast!! Another humorous tale started one Saturday morning when I was sleeping late. I heard a thump on the roof above the bed followed by a scurry of footsteps. Within seconds, I could see the spruce tree outside moving. I spun around and sat up, and spied a squirrel, squatting and still in the tree outside the window. I thought, NO, it couldn’t be. A few minutes later, the entire scene repeated itself, this time with me watching intensely. 
I witnessed the soft white underbelly of the second squirrel launch from the gutter above the window and land softly in the tree. So graceful, so cute…. NOT. I was painting the trim on the archway in the living room that day, and I watched about six different squirrels using the trunk of that tree like a roadway, up and down, up and down, their mouths filled with leaves. Randy put three pieces of silver flashing around the trunk the next day (he calls it an art installation in stainless). Boy were those squirrels in a panic when they couldn’t get back up the tree. The chapter closes with all critters gone, and us sleeping soundly through the silent nights. Now we rest. We have promised each other we will not start any new projects for a few weeks. We are both exhausted and spent.
In 1934, Felix Bernard wrote the lyrics to “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” not far from us. He was from Honesdale, PA, about twenty five minutes away. We are headed out for a walk in our own winter wonderland, perhaps on roadways and paths that Mr. Bernard had once traveled. The Christmas day awaits us, as does the new year. 
to face unfraid
the plans that we’ve made
walking in a winter wonderland
There is an art to slowing down to appreciate all things. It takes a conscious effort for me to slow down and just be. This morning, brought our first snowfall. As I sit here writing in the early morning, I have watched the sunrise over the river valley. A stunning scene of winter’s unfolding. I am reminded. It has been a long time since I have sat down to write for this blog. I love to write, and yet, I have left my love for another. What have I been doing? It seems life’s To Do list has been holding me hostage. It is not just this old house. It has been all that life demands. I could make a list of what I have been doing, to quantify my work and worth, but why? It would be much like every other person’s list of things that keep us busy, occupied, and unconscious. My intention this morning is to break the cycle. I wish to make more time to simply be.
How will I accomplish this? Here are some of the tried and true practices that work for me. Waking early. Spiritual connection. Time outdoors. Meditation. Exercise (I love to swim). Mindfulness. Living in the moment. Eating well. Moderation in all things. Sleeping at least eight hours a night. Fellowship with friends and loved ones. Slowing down enough to notice the beauty all around me. I know there is more, but for now, this is enough. A start. The essence of what I need. To remember that at any given moment I have enough, I am enough, I have done enough, there is enough. Enough. Always enough. Everywhere. I can be at peace if I connect to myself and remember.
J. Howard Beach House 