Have I mentioned the stove?  The stove in our house had a short and it's about 60 years old.  If you touch it and the sink at the same time it shocks you.  If you stand on the metal trim on the floor and touch it, it shocks you.  Not fun at all.   It's apparently done this for years but Peter has learned how not to get zapped.

Yesterday remodeling moved into the kitchen and the horrible stove was in the way of painting and it shocked me repeatedly while I was trying to clean.  It HAD to go.  I don't demand things very often of my husband - but yesterday, I demanded the stove be tossed (I demanded, of course, in the nicest possible way), but I was done with it.

Once we got the stove out, Peter took a look at the back of it.  We think we found the problem:

I think I shall name him Mickey.

After painting the walls and the trim I began to paint the grimy, icky, textured ceiling.  As I applied paint, the ceiling started coming down on me.  It just started to fall off.  I felt a little like Lucy as the candy started going faster and faster down the conveyor belt.  My original plan was to keep the texture up there (seemed easiest at the time) but I was being forced to change that plan.  Such a messy process.  I like the smooth ceiling better than the texture but I just didn't want to work that hard! 

Now I will need to go back and take the texture off the living room ceiling as well.  Anyone want to come and help?

Knickers, knitting and spinning...

I met someone!

No.. I'm not talking about replacing my husband already.  I'm talking about Tina. 

I met Tina at the Northwest Washington Fair last week.  She was demonstrating spinning and some of her knitting had won blue ribbons.  I sat down and told her my name, stumbling over my last name and explained it was because I had recently gotten married and was still getting used to it.  Her reply:

   "Oh deary I've had more surnames than most people have had clean knickers!"

I liked her immediately.  She seemed to like me as well  (she's originally from Wales).  I went to her house today with my spinning wheel and she took a good look at it.  It turns out my wheel is meant for linen and cotton - not for wool.  The orifice is too small, the hooks are too small and the ability to slow it down to wool speed (cotton and linen must be spun faster) isn't built into my wheel.  My wheel - though fully functional - is not a good wheel to learn on or suitable for the type of spinning I wish to do.  So sad!

Not to give up so easily, she sat me down in front of her Ashford Traveler and gave me a quick lesson.  Guess what?? I can spin!  My yarn came out seriously over-twisted and sloppy but she's an excellent teacher and has complete faith I'll be proficient in just 3 short months.

Tina also insisted on introducing me to real English Tea ("not that Lipton shit!  Lipton is NOT tea and should be dumped in the garbage!!").  It turns out "real" tea was quite tasty!

Tomorrow I'm meeting her at a bi-weekly spinning group at Roeder House in Bellingham.  There is also a free class offered by the parks system on alternate Wednesdays.  They have wheels there for students to use - which is good - since my wheel won't.

My remodeling will just have to be put on hold for a few days while I get my spinning fix.  Oh well - there are worse things.

Sparky is such a... DOG!!

In the past I've made fun of my dog, Sparky.  She's been referred to as "the Princess." Because she's such a well.. Princess.

"Back in the city" she refused to go outside in the rain (water is very dangerous stuff you know!!).  She got picked on by 6 week old kitten.  She preferred pillows and beds to floors and ground.  She has cowered when cornered by the chickens.  She ate toast and jam for breakfast with my mom and got tired after three "runs" after her ball during a game of ball.

These days, that's all a thing of the past.  My 8 1/2 year old prissy, city dog is turning into a real dog.  A wild animal almost. 

She has discovered smells in the tall grass and follows them enthusiastically.  She wanders the north field with her nose to the ground chasing smells in and out of the brush and briars.  She walked THROUGH a mud puddle the other day!  She got her feet wet.  On purpose!  She happily rides in the car with her head hanging out the window and her ears flapping.

Yesterday we took her hiking.  She scrambled over rocks.  She walked across a bridge made of a fallen tree across a raging river (twice!).  She crossed a creek and then drank out of it!  She barked at a fox (she was telling it to watch out because she was a dog to be reconned with!). 

And.. She's lost weight - she almost has a loin.  Although - yesterday, I did over hear one rude little boy say to his mother:  "Look Mommy, a really fat dog!!"

If only that kid knew how far my princess dog has come!!

Wagons Ho!

I've moved.  It's done.  It took two weekends, a 26 foot moving van, two 12 foot trailers and a car dolly. 

I'm now 95 years old.  A couple days ago I was 110.  That was after moving stuff from 7:00 am to 8:00 pm and a night sleeping on the floor.  The second weekend in Salem we had an air mattress  (we planned ahead!)  uh.. problem was that the air mattress was NOT the full sized one I thought I had but a twin mattress.  And we didn't have a proper blanket.  Two grown-ups on a twin sized air mattress with a towel and a lap blanket.  Not pretty (but still better than the floor).

The house was empty and I sat down at the top of the stairs.  My mind wandered over the past 7 years.   It sort of felt like the season finale of Cheers or *MASH* where they showed flashbacks of the highlights from the life of the show. 

My house highlights included my mom's adventures, Halloween parties, game nights, Peter, the guinea pigs, the dogs, the cats, Christmas trees, flooring, laughter and tears... and oh so much more.  I'm afraid I could not leave without adding a few more tears to the memories.

I also need to mention, during the first moving weekend I attended my son's wedding.  If I viewed the event as an outsider it was quite lovely.  The ceremony was short and heartfelt.  Everyone had a good time.  It was very nice.  As a mother who thinks her son is too young to make this move and felt very much left out of the whole thing, my feelings where very mixed.  Ultimately, of course, I wish him nothing but happiness and peace in his future - especially if it means I can't say "I told you so."