DIY shows

I adore the DIY channel. I've heard all these lovely renovation shows described as "women's porn." So true! Demolition, tiling, floors, roofing, drywall, design, paint, color -- I love all of it! Bring it on!
Now, instead of just providing inspiration and education, it's taking on a new role. Reassurance.

It's five months into the remodel. I'm tired, and the weather is getting cold and wet. Work is still being done on the house, but in slow motion -- a day here and a day there. Inside, it's completely torn apart, and about to get a little worse as I tear off the drywall on the outside walls to replace the insulation. Pretty much, the house is gutted. My builder is showing up less and less frequently. He voices his commitment to the project, but this may be the point I step fully into making sure things get done. Where I step in and try out my new skills. For real. Whether he eventually returns, or I have to sue him, or I hire someone else is secondary to the fact I have a 10 sq ft hole in my bathroom floor, and it's the middle of November. Everyone in the Northwest knows what that means: put it away, drain it, tarp it, wrap it, because it's about to get COLD.

I digress -- y'all are due for an update where this project stands at the moment, but that's for another post. My point -- these DIY shows are reassuring. On the show, I'm seeing pipes and drywall and sawalls, and dryrot and repair ---AND the final project, dressed in its finery, looking beautiful and whole and functional and complete. Gives me faith. I can see where it's headed, some areas more detailed than others yet, but I know where this house is heading. When I see pipes, studs, insulation, and wire, I love being able to see the connection from where I am now, to where the house will bloom in the spring.

Lesson from a sink: what search filter do you use?

Received a wonderful learning from a bathroom sink.

I've been searching for a vessel sink to use in my new bathroom. There are so many beautiful ones out there. Bold, lava-infused colored glass, white ones shaped like petaled flowers, clear green with misty swirls... I decided to use an old dresser for the vanity, and began looking again with a clearer sense of what I want.

Then I saw it: a beautiful hand-painted floral glass sink. Perfect colors, lovely flowers to match my gardener's heart, and within my price range. As with most things in life, when I see what I want, I hesitate a moment before leaping in. Clicked it onto my favorites list, and went on to other things.

A few days went by, and then I returned to Overstock to look at it again. "Vessel sink" I entered into the search box. Dozens of pictures came up but the sink was gone! Oh no!!!! Sadness! "Noooo, I reeeeeeally want it now, did I really miss my chance?" Suddenly I realized how important it is to act when the opportunity presents itself.

Wait a minute. Maybe I used too narrow a search term. "Sink" I entered.
*Voila* there it was! (And this time I bought it.)

So here's the lesson:
what filters are we using in life?
What are we missing when we use 'search terms' that are too narrow?
Where else in life do we miss opportunities because we only look through the same filters, time and time again? Using the same old perspectives.

Everytime I gaze at this beautiful sink, it'll be a great reminder. Broaden my perspectives, be aware of how I'm filtering my view of the world.

Where are you a craftsman in your life?

I stained the cedar 2x2s that will go on top of my pergola. At first, I thought, okay now should I lay them all next to each other so I can cover many at once? "I have 32 to do, is there a way to be efficient and get them done wholesale?"

Instead, I picked up one 2x2, a brush, and started painting the stain along its length. With ease, enjoying the simplicity of watching each face be transformed into a deeper, richer color. The knots coming alive with story and saga. Ooo, that was pretty, I wonder what the next one will look like? Each side told its own tale, as the grain swept and swirled its way down.

Suddenly I felt the joy of craftsmanship. Meticulous. Unhurried. Savoring the transformation of the wood. Taking pleasure in watching the grain jump up and sing. I was totally in flow, and it felt wonderful.

So many tasks in life I hurry through, trying to get it done quickly and with the least effort. Efficient. So I can get onto the next task. But the cedar slowed me down to being fully present, fully in the now.

And I wonder, where else in my life am I a craftsman? Where else in my life do I show up with unhurried care, fully present, savoring the effects of my attention and effort?

Where are you a craftsman in your life?

An ode to acting now - goldfish!

A couple years ago I built a pond in my backyard. I considered adding fish, but figured it would become a raccoon and heron sushi bar. I didn't want to attract raccoons -- cute critters, but they can be deadly to cats. It suddenly dawned on me that with the fence, raccoons can't get in, so I just brought home a bunch of goldfish and released them in the pond. What fun! Once they settle in, I'm sure they'll lead the cats on merry chases. (The guppies in the indoor fishtank do.)

I imagine I could have said no, I'm moving towards the new house, and away from this one, so I should wait. (There's a pond over there too.) But where is the joy in that? I think all too often we postpone joy. We put off doing things that are fun. "Oh, let me get this done first, and then I'll..." I think it's something we learned when we were told we had to eat dessert last.

Truly, think about it: when you have some wonderful dish on your plate, or handful of jelly beans, do you eat the ones you like least, saving the best ones for last? What would it be like to eat the best ones first, the choice center of the cake, the tenderloin first? Then *every* bite you take would be the *best* one.

What if we started filling our day with acts that bring us joy?

Cats outside first time -- happy =^..^=

I finished the cat fencing at my current home, and oh they are so happy! Two (of four) have never been outside before, except for a 8x15 enclosure I built last fall. They romp up and down the hill, chasing each other. Luna just caught a shrew, and was so proud of herself, she could barely contain herself. Hee! I'm a good kittymama.

Creating a budget -- the touchy-feely way

Ohhh, but I’m feeling a little bit brilliant right now. I created a wonderful way to create the comprehensive budget I’ve been needing to draft. My budget is $80,000 for this project. I’ve been spending money right and left, for a deck, to create a new ceiling, electrical – without a comprehensive plan. Yikes! It’s been scary. I’ve taken several stabs at it, but when I’m done, I see a list of words and a list of numbers and I have no feel for it. And I don’t know how to use Excel. I learn visually and kinesthetically – I need to SEE and FEEL something before I’m sold.

So I pulled out my spare change jar, and counted out $8.00. I grabbed a large sheet of paper, and my list of everything that needs funding, and wrote them out on the paper, sorted in rough groups. Then I took my “$80,000” and placed the coins next to each expenditure. A penny is $100, a nickel is $500, dime is $1000, and quarter is $2500.

I put five dimes in the spot where I really want to splurge on a recycled glass countertop. I put enough coins to cover a separate cooktop and oven, if I can afford it over a standard range. I put fewer coins over the radiant heat spot, since I plan to do the labor myself except for the manifold.

I got all done, everything on my list had coins on it, and I have coins left over. Enough, to comfortably do the two big things left on the list to complete the project. I could SEE everything was amply covered, AND I get to have my beautiful recycled glass countertops! And keep my uh-oh!/Ooooo! cushion as well.

Yep, I’m feeling a little bit brilliant this afternoon

moon and fireworks

It’s July 3rd, after 10pm. Boom, boom, crackle, screeeeeech of fireworks echoing across the lake. The moon is almost full, spinning a trail of glittering silver across the water. Beyond the pines I can hear deeper booms of bigger explosives far away. Across the lake there’s a bonfire, surrounded by laughter. Farther down the lake is a live band playing decent guitar. I still can’t quite believe that I get to live here, on the water. The moon on the water is so magical. Diamonds and fairies and stardust.

I love writing out here on the porch. Eager to get internet service.

Eager to build my firepit too. I’ve been putting it off because it involves carrying those bastard-heavy construction bricks. I’ve been assuming that I’m not strong enough to carry them. But now that I’ve pulled down the kitchen ceiling – I need to test that assumption. I know I’m getting stronger – I can do things I wasn’t able to just a few months ago. I’m also learning that even though something requires physical effort and is hard, that’s no reason to avoid it.

One brick at a time. Just do the next step. The bricks are across the street, so I could load a couple in the little trailer that goes with the riding lawn mower and bring them right down to the beach. Then a little while later, a couple more.

I think I want tiki torches over here too. Or candles. Something organic and magic.

Oh! An aerial firework! Bright green!

fence = niche lesson

Even though I'm preparing to move to the lakehouse within a few months, I'm enclosing a portion of my current backyard with cat-fencing, made of deer fence material. (Two of my cats have been killed by either the road or the woods, so this is about keeping my kittychildren safe.)

In hanging the deer fencing, I learned about what a niche is, and why it's so important.

My backyard backs up against the woods. Much of my yard is beyond taming, but my immediate backyard is shaped like a bowl, and in this bowl I have creating pieces of a lovely retreat. A deck, a pond, a patio made of concrete chunks in mosaic, a pumphouse covered in clematis, and my favorite spot, the hot tub. It's been a good start, but there's always so much more to do: add the waterfall, mow the 2-foot grass up the hill, pick up the detrius that accumulates over several unfinished projects. Perhaps turn the unused telephone pole into the style of a sundial.

As soon as I hung the deer fencing, as soon as this area was enclosed, it felt completely different. Completely transformed. All of a sudden it felt like a framed, beautiful, idyllic space, full of dimension and rhythm. It became a cohesive whole, since it was now clearly defined. Not just part of an unending view, but a distinct, clearly formed garden space. What lay beyond it fell away, this became its own destination. And the unfinished tasks within it feel suddenly doable, since there is boundary, definition, and identity here. Niche, personified.

And space, with boundaries, seems paradoxically larger. Ample playspace.

Home Renovation: transforming us both from the inside out

Oh, I'm so excited to be here! I've been wanting to start this blog for weeks, and now I'm taking action steps to do it! Funny how a house remodel will get you to start doing things...

Hi, I'm Kim, and I'm renovating a lakehouse home I inherited from my dad. My grandfather built the house in 1964. I only met him twice, so as I take the house apart and see how he did things, I can get to know him this way. It became our family's vacation spot, to visit Gram, starting when I was six years old. I can still remember the first time I came around the corner of the house and saw the gardens and lake beyond -- I was enchanted. Growing up in Los Angeles, this wilderness lake cabin in western Washington was paradise.

My parents moved into the house 25 years ago. Now that they have both passed, the house comes to me. I am SO blessed to have received such a gift. The house is sturdy; Grandpa was a solid builder. Sensible, but without a lick of style. Oh, how I plan to change all that!

Similarly, I am at a place of transformation. I am poised at the spot of taking hold of my career and wealth path, and reinventing my sense of health and vigor. Coming into my own, finding a new sense of style and renovation. I would love to have you join me along this journey!

The renovation in earnest began 17 days ago, after two years of planning, dreaming, sketching, and researching. So there will be a sense of "catch-up" about lovely discoveries I've made so far (front page newspapers under the linoleum, my grandfather's footsteps in the dust under the house, my grandmother's fuchsia baskets, pruning a garden border as metaphor, etc.) until I'm blogging in 'real time'. Ooo, I can't wait! More soon!