Workshop Chocolate Cake

Hello dear readers, I've just come from my late afternoon bath over at the house, which I like to do after the carpenters leave and before the possibility of a close encounter with a bear in the dark. This is going to get tricky as the light fades earlier, I can see that...

So right now, Paul is upstairs in the attic doing lord knows what... from the noise coming from there, it sounds like he's doing dental work on a giant using a very large drill. I think he's actually trying to take apart and extract a very large truss that held up the chimney that is no longer there. I don't know why this makes me think of dental work.

But speaking of fairy tale and other-worldly beings in the house, I wanted to share with you a bit of a strange feeling I've had here, right from day one. Part of the strangeness is that I never feel it when I'm in the house, only when I'm outside. It usually happens when I'm working in the yard and no one else is around. I get the feeling I'm being watched from an upstairs window, but of course when I glance up, there's nothing there. The feeling is a mix of dread at the chance of actually seeing something-- and then what would I do?-- and disappointment. What am I expecting? Well, actually, I find myself thinking of a young blond girl, maybe nine years old or so, dressed in a cotton blouse and holding a doll. Or a young woman in a kerchief, who would draw quickly away from the window if I saw her. These last weeks of carving out the vegetable garden, I've found myself wondering if they would approve of what I'm doing with 'their' space. I get a similar feeling when I'm working on old rescue quilt tops I've bought on ebay... as I add border, quilting, and backing, I feel that I'm collaborating with a ghost. I am keenly aware of her fingers having worked the fabric, and I wonder what she thinks of my choice of (sometimes outrageously colourful) fabric to finish the project she started.

Speaking of projects, here is an update on the house: The back end (dining room and kitchen) is almost ready to be closed in, although the windows won't be ready for a few weeks yet. A concrete footing has been poured to support the single post that will support the huge new beam that will allow us to remove the (formerly pink) wall that divided up the river end of the house so the view was blocked. Whew. Also, a hole has been cut (mostly) in the ceiling of the main floor, or floor of the second floor, depending on where you're standing, to make room for the new staircase. Behold the picture: I'm standing in the second floor hallway, looking down at where the stairs will be.

Electrician Bill has also made a few visits, and begun deconstructing the elaborate puzzle that is the wiring in this house. And the gasline has been laid, which will service our gorgeous new six-burner BlueStar stove. Here's a great pic Paul took the other morning, of the trench for the gasline in the early morning fog:

The trench still needs to be backfilled, and right now it looks like an ugly incision stretching across the property from the road to the house (about 200 yards). Paul assures me it will heal.      

As for bears: Paul encountered a large one the other evening, in another pear tree closer to the mobile home where our tenant Patsy lives. It broke a large branch climbing that tree. But the bears (and their droppings) are scarce these days, especially since we removed the pear tree standing right outside the house. We discovered the core of the tree was old and crumbling so we didn't feel too guilty about taking it down. Some of the pear wood went to Ted, a neighbour who is a wood turner (Paul exerts huge effort not to call him Ted Turner; I've actually seen sweat break out on his forehead from the strain) and the rest is cut and stacked for burning.

And so things go along, and we continue to grow in our love for this place. As per usual for me in the fall, I'm feeling more like cooking and baking and continue to miss having all my pots and pans and various culinary paraphernalia around me.

Regardless, Recipe for Workshop Chocolate Cake:

Discover a package of gluten-free chocolate cake mix Paul must have bought while I was in Victoria last summer.

Call Paul and ask him to heave and ho heavy boxes in search of a measuring cup and cake pans.

Discover one plastic measuring cup with barely readable markings in a box with articles I've never seen before, which must have come from the farthest corner of the basement in the Victoria house; it will do nicely.

Discover a box of metal baking pans-- score!

Fail to locate icing sugar, so make do following an online boiled granular sugar recipe. It fails miseraby, becoming quickly unspreadable as it cools and sits in coagulated lumps on the cake. So of course we eat those parts first, sitting on the couch in the workshop, my feet on Paul's lap, and it is delicious.

Dear Universe...

I want to take this opportunity to say thank you, Dear Universe, for the recent lessons on the requirement for clear, precise wording in the practice of Spiritual Manisfestation. I now understand that when I said (in response to frustration at the slowness of the renovation process) "I want to see the house crawling with carpenters," I should have specified human carpenters, not carpenter ants. I'm glad we cleared that up. Only one visit from the exterminator and his fumigation equipment was required.

I might take this opportunity to further clarify that when I envisioned Glory-ous Mornings, I did not mean the herbaceous variety; you can stop with the ruddy bindweed any time now, thanks. And when I requested prolific, easily accessed sources of manure for the garden, I hadn't quite seen myself trucking about the place every morning with a wheel barrow, scooping bear turds. Really. One would think You might actually be having a little har-dee-har at us mortals' expense. 

Thank you for the two (not one, two) clawfoots tubs, perfect condition and refinished, hardware included, for an outrageously inexpensive price. As Supreme Feminine Ruler, you know how much a girl appreciates a good, old-fashioned soak. And for getting Paul safely back from fetching the last one from the coast, with no trailer-drama this time.

Let's see... we still need to find affordable flooring for the upstairs hallway. And a good-sized chunk of marble for the kitchen island. Range hood, perhaps with decorative tin finish? Concrete pad, 8' X 20' for the greenhouse. Which I don't know how in heaven's name (oops, Your name) we're going to move.

Otherwise I think we're good. Oh yes, the children are always in need of financial help, but you know that's a standing order.

Thank you for Paul, most of all.

And say hello to Santa Claus for me.

Ta-taaaa!

Yesterday was a very good day...

Ah, good morning good readers. I am sitting at my desk watching the mist rise from the mountain behind Ootischenia, sipping a cup of green tea and feeling very cosy-autumny-thanksgivingy. Paul is still sleeping, and Cassius has eaten his breakfast and is out exploring. The weather has turned just in the last week, from scorching clear to soft and drizzly. There is a tree flaming red along our driveway, and another that burst briefly into red then shrugged all its leaves to the ground. Autumn is most definitely here, and I am noticing that because I can see so much more of the weather, the geography around us, I am loving the changes. I can hardly wait to be tucked upstairs in the house, watching winter take hold of the land.

Here is an assortment of tidbits by way of update: we finally broke down and hired someone to help me with the morning glory. It is too massive a job on it's own, never mind getting gardens prepped for next year-- which was the intended goal this fall. So garden-expert Carrie arrived yesterday, full of energy and enthusiasm and lots of good gardening know-how, and she's tackling the infestation in the south garden, on her knees, one square foot at a time. Yes, she's being paid. She says she's never seen a bindweed infestation this bad. Thank you for the Validation.

My process with the yardwork has gone something like this: get excited about the new veggie garden and work on that for awhile; have a bad dream about morning glory roots reaching up to strangle me by the throat; wake up at 4am fretting about beridding the place of it; resolve to work on that instead, and fly at it for a few hours; realize there is no way I can do it AND get anything else done, including my job nevermind other garden work; give up and cry in frustration; get a hug from Paul, brainstorm ideas for MG eradication, such as smothering under tarps, excavating, etc.; get started on a bit of that, then realize I have to get the sheet composting on the veggie garden going. Rinse and repeat.

But as of yesterday, there is Hope once again. This is important for those of us who like to take on Big Projects and who think we can Do It All. Hope is good.


So here is a view of my veggie garden layout, from an upstairs window. It takes the shape of a square, cut into quadrants, and then each quadrant cut once again into triangles. This leaves eight sections for rotating annual veggies on a yearly basis. There will be a long rectangular bed on one edge where perennial vegetables such as asparagus and artichoke will reside permanently.



Here is the garden, staked out as of last week:

At 40X40ft., I had it close-enough-to-square-for-me when Becca and Dean showed up to help, and Becca took things in hand. Close enough was not good enough, so she grabbed the tape measure and barked out orders to Dean and I until we'd got it right. And it is a much cleaner layout-- thank you honey! Each of the eight triangle beds are just small enough to reach into the middle (if you're longarmed like me), and the paths between allow good room for a wheelbarrow. There's room in the centre for a bench, or maybe a table and sun umbrella for resting with a cold drink.

The next step after laying out with stakes and string was to dig a shallow trench along the string-lines. This took me two days, and I enjoyed the last of our hot weather while doing it. I needed to get the stakes and string out of the way so the big truck can drive in and empty the dumpster parked beside the house (it can drive over the trenched outlines without erasing them). The next and final step before winter will be to add all the layers-- and progress this week included finding a phenomenal source for manure, and acquiring two truck loads. You can see it in the first picture, to the left-back. That's my staging area for the lasagna materials, and so far I have a pile of grass clippings, a pile of awesome manure, and some bagged leaves. We still need to rent/buy a chipper so all the trimmed branches can be added as well. Getting there!

Let's take a peek at what's happening in the house:

This is a view from the livingroom into the river-end (dining room on the left, kitchen on the right). The builders are replacing the back wall, which will be fitted with windows and french doors.

 Outside view of the corner where the new kitchen starts. That's Jim, our contractor, standing in the house, and Ken, who has been here three weeks doing demolition. I think he's glad to be moving on to building now!

Other updates: Paul made a fast dash to Richmond to act on some sweet deals: we've got our second clawfoot tub, beautifully refinished and with fixtures, for $400-- that's an amazing deal. He also picked up a beautiful white kitchen farmhouse sink from Ikea, which was the best value we could find for that style. And he found someone with the plumbing/hardware for the fixtures and shower ring for the other clawfoot tub, so we're all set in that department! We're still working on having a vintage cabinet of mine converted into a bathroom vanity, we'll show you pics of how that turns out.

But the icing on the cake for me yesterday was signing the contract with Builder Jim, which states that the renovations will be "substantially completed" by Christmas! I've been fretting about that because the Luke and Erika and Dylan and Alandra are booked to fly out from Toronto/Montreal, and I was not looking forward to cramming us all into the workshop! Thank you Jim, "substantial" will be good enough for me.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!