Garage Easter, Marble Memories

Well, here we are-- another holiday spent in the workshop. I must be the worst judge of 'how long it will take us to move into the house' ever. Except maybe Paul, he's worse. After Christmas, I estimated we'd be in by Valentine's Day, which came and went in a blur of roses, chocolate, and drywall dust. Then I said 'Hey, we can have our house rewarming party for Paul's birthday on March 30th. We'll be in by then for sure.' A very nice dinner out that evening, but then it was back to the garage with you two! Now Easter. I asked Paul yesterday how much longer in his estimation, and he said 'April 21st.' I pointed out that was only two weeks away, and there was still the kitchen to finish, some gas and plumbing work, flooring in the upstairs hallway, all the doors, all the baseboards, plus installing the bathroom fixtures. He amended to April 27th. At this point, I'm aiming for my birthday, May 19th. But hey, there's always Canada Day!

On the upside (and a very, very good upside it is), spring is here and what a treat! I've loved watching the snow recede and the brave little buds pushing up through the cold cold ground. There are also buds on the lilac shoots I transplanted last fall, as well as on various fruit trees (many of which I've lost track of in terms of varieties... I missed them in blossom and fruit last year, so haven't memorized who is who).

We had about a week and a half of serious mud, but that's gone now and I'm spending more time outside. I've given two pear trees and three grapevines a serious pruning-- and am learning that pruning is very therapeutic. I could take out a lot of renovation angst on our flora if I'm not careful.

A few days ago, I was standing outside soaking up the sun and breathing in the smell of warming earth when I had a sudden, strong flashback to springtime of my childhood in Quesnel-- and marble season at Carson Elementary School, circa 1968. I haven't thought about that for years. As sure as the tilt of the planet toward the sun and the resurrection of all things green, was the clamour of children rooting through closets to find last years' marble hoard, and the rush to the local five-and-dime to increase the stake. Cat's Eyes, Steelies, Galaxies, Cobs, King Cobs, secured in velvet, drawstring Seagram's whiskey bags obtained from our dads. I remember plunging my hand into the bag and rolling the orbs around and around, just for the feel of it. Or holding a Galaxy up to my eye and losing myself in it's starry universe.

Then off to school early, where we'd plunk our bottoms on the school sidewalk, still barely clear of snow, and play. We girls sat in our pleated, plaid skirts and knee socks-- in our family, girls wouldn't be allowed to wear pants to school until junior high. Sitting spread-legged on the concrete, I suspect now that was why boys were willing to break the strict segregation-of-genders-on-the-playground rule (girl cooties and all that) and hunker down for a game. The rules were simple: kids would sit with backs against the school, lined all the way down the walkway, a shiny cob sitting enticingly between open legs, calling for shooters. The shooters would position a marble between thumb and forefinger, and, staying behind the shooting line, flick a marble at the cob. Anything that missed, the cob-owner got to keep. If you hit the cob, it was your prize. If your hand strayed over the shooting line in the attempt to launch your shooter, you were called on bullfudging.

I don't think my description, above, really does credit to the wild, almost hysterical energy of marble season. For example, I don't recall the consequence for bullfudging-- but I suspect we reverted to the over-arching Rule of Marbles, which was that in the case of a dispute, whoever grabbed the marble in question fastest got to keep it. Or if you could wrest it from the other person's fist, it was yours.There was pushing, shoving, cheating, fights, mud on skirts and knee socks, and things generally ending up in tears. The boys amassed the most cobs and marbles, but in my memory, I recall many a sore loser who wouldn't relenquish his cob to a girl shooter. There was also a fair amount of thievery of marble collections from the coatroom, and I think in general marble season tried the patience of teachers, who breathed a sigh of relief when the ball field was finally dry enough that they could direct our post-winter energies to that more refined game.

Do they still play marbles at school?
Back here on the farm, 2012 progresses. I've transpotted all my tomatoes into 4-inch pots, and given some of the original 90 (!!) away to Becca and Dean and the carpenters. I'll still have lots. The peppers will need to be potted up soon and I won't have room for them in the bedroom/slash seedling nursery. Dean's brother, Gord, has been here helping around the property, and I'm hoping the greenhouse will be up and funtional in a few days' time so I can put things out there. Gord built my three compost bins out of pallets strung together with wire, just the other day. And yes, that is a slight skiff of snow this morning already melting fast. The last, I swear.

Paul has been back over the border to Colville, WA recently to pick up our second load of beekeeping equipment. Here's a pic of a wee customer doing the bee dance with two bee brushes. That's our livingroom, kitchen, and beekeeping stock off to the right.

Billy has been enjoying regular playdates with her brother, Cooper (with head in cat door), and neighbour Spike. Cassius is back in hunting mode, and is sometimes seen doing the pride walk with a newly slain pocket gopher in his maw. Paul and I gave the bees their spring feeding of essential oils and amino-booster in sugar syrup a few days ago, and both hives looked good.

So the seasons turn here at Flying Leap Farm, and I get more of a sense of how the seasons in years ahead will unfold. Bliss! Happy Easter everyone.

Merry Vernal Equinox?

Hello spring-deprived readers! Yesterday I was photographing crocuses sprouting and bees flying...

... and today we awakened to an inch of new snow. Good news: it's rained enough today that, as of now, I'm looking at the same few stubborn patches of snow as this time yesterday, so we haven't lost much ground, so to speak.

Jo-Anne has been a busy girl lately. I'm splitting my time between the house and office here in the workshop (yes, on a good day it's called the workshop; on bad days, it's demoted to 'garage'). As       Jo-Anne Stoltz, PhD, Adjunct Professor Extraordinaire, I'm marking counselling masters' students' final project papers, shepherding them to the finish line in their internships, and prepping for summer teaching. Then I swap mask and cape and head over to the house, where I am Jo, lowly painting apprentice. One more day and all the walls in the house will have fresh faces. Let me show you some pics:

This is one of the spare rooms, and is a lovely shade of grey-mauve called Porcelain. Contractor Jim accidently referred to it as 'the pink room', but quickly realized his error under my withering gaze. One of the carpenters gently corrected him, saying 'I think it's mauve, Jim.' There are no pink rooms in the house.

The yellow room is a lovely shade of Buttermilk. And my favourite of the bedroom colours, below, is a silvery grey called Whitestone.

I liked it so much, I've gone with it in the smallest spare room and the master bedroom and adjoining bath. I think it will look amazing with the fir trim.

In and around these roles, I've also sewed the top for this years' quilt, to be auctioned at the Canadian Counselling and Psychotherapy Association's national conference. The conference is in Calgary in May, and the Social Justice chapter will auction my quilt along with other items, with proceeds to the Calgary Homeless Foundation. I'll post a pic of the quilt once I've quilted it. But in order to do that, I have to juggle space here in the... garage (it's been a long day), as my former sewing space has been taken over by seedling trays. Yes, I've gone from sewing to sowing. Behold:

I've sown herbs like lemon balm and thyme shown here, as well as arugula, basil, leeks, four varieties of tomatoes, and three of peppers. All are organic, most are heritage varieties from Seeds of Victoria and The Cottage Gardener, and all have germinated very well.

So well, in fact, that when it came to onions, I decided to save seeds by allocating only one to each space in the seedling tray. Something about it bothered me, though, so (well after they'd sprouted) I watched a  YouTube video on planting onion seed-- where the very capable looking, articulate man from a leading American university was packing a 4-inch pot with one hundred seeds. Oops. Apparently, when they're ready to transplant out you grab them by their long, green locks, pull them out of the pot and gently tease apart the one hundred tiny sets and plant those in the garden. Sigh. Ah well, I may have one hundred lonely, isolated onion sprouts shedding onion tears for the company of their siblings, but they will be tasty, unhappy onions by gum.

Sleeping Off Her Fuzzy Feast

See the small, white square tag, all that is left
of Jo-Anne's new slipper.

Just discovered, this afternoon while shopping for more seedling trays at Canadian Tire, that they sell slippers there. Mine have taken a beating this winter-- stained with all manner of bodily fluids, mostly non-human and no, you don't want to know. I wash them occasionally, but they take a long time to dry and make a lot of noise boinking around in the drier and it's so uncomfortable walking around on the concrete floor without slippers. So (true confessions) I probably haven't cleaned them as much as I should. So when I saw slippers on sale at Canadian Tire today, I bought some! A second pair to trade off while these are in the wash.

When I arrived home, I dropped the seedling trays, potting soil, slippers etc. in the garage and scurried over to the house to see how things were progressing. Have been leaving Billie loose instead of penning her up for these short outings. When I got back, one new slipper had been heartily, thoroughly, and unashamedly chewed, prompting me to write this verse, inspired by Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. We watched 'This Is It' last week so the tune has been running through my head.

Billie Jean is not my daughter
She's just a dog who thinks that I am her mom
But the beast is not my spawn.

Doo-do-doodle-oo (Oh!) Doo-do-doodle-oo (Oh!)... Doo-do-doodle-doodle-doodle, Doo-do-doodle-oo...

Ahhhh, that feels better.

House update! The painting is finished except for the plaster walls that are being rehabilitated, upstairs. The flooring in the kitchen is being laid. Light fixtures are being installed. Here are some pics:

We ordered all the light fixtures through Amazon.com at an amazing price. The wrought iron candleabra, to the left, I've had for many years. I found it at a second hand store in Victoria, and was told that two of them had been designed by a bride for her outdoor wedding in the '70's. I've always loved it, and had it wired for lights last summer by the Water Glass people before leaving town. I chose the other lights to play off of it. 

Paul is working tons (too much!) right now for Selkirk College, bouncing between campuses in Trail, here, and Nelson. Orders are still coming in every day for beekeeping supplies, so Paul gets home and starts his 'other' job returning emails and phone calls and keeping up with inventory. Luckily it's seasonal, although we're thrilled by the response. Once we've moved into the house and things are tidied up, we're going to start hosting monthly, informal beekeeping gatherings so people can swap knowledge and tips and get support and mentorship. One customer suggested 'Wine, Cheese, and Bees'-- love it!

Paul's Head Esplodes

Last weekend, Jo-Anne and I drove up to Kaslo for their Seedy Sunday. Lots of heritage growers -- we came back with a whack of Doukhobour bush beans, among other things. I took a picture of Jo-Anne and Billie with their backs to Kootenay Lake and the Columbia mountains in the background.

An aside -- I passed out a bunch of our beekeeping supplies cards to folks there, and the first was very pleased to get one. At the next booth, I bought some stuff and told her that if she was trying to run an orchard she might want to talk to us at some point. She took the card and looked confused. "Really?" "Sure," I said. "It kind of goes hand-in-hand with what you're doing." "You REALLY think so?"  she says. I look at the card. Only the first card of the stack we grabbed was for beekeeping. The rest were for Jo-Anne's counselling practice. I had to run around explaining this to all the people I'd handed her cards to, doing damage control.

I told this to Mom just now, and when she finished laughing she said, "Kaslo? That's where Uncle Dan's mine was." So I googled Armstead and Kaslo while we were talking and got 2100 hits.

As far as I can tell, Dan Armstead and his brother "The Colonel" ran the Utica Silver and Lead Mine in Kaslo. They lived in the old Kaslo hotel I stood with my back to when I took the picture of Jo-Anne and Billie. They sent the ore by rail across the mountains through Sandon, an abondoned mining town which, coincidentally, Mom and I visited last year. At New Denver it continued by rail down the Slocan Valley to the Columbia, which it followed down to the States.

In the Slocan, the old rail line is now a path which runs alongside Rebecca and Dean's farm -- they walk the dog on it every day. In Ootischenia, the old rail line is now Bridgeview Road, which is our street. The Doukhobour village of which our house was the center would have been much larger than just our current lot; the railroad would have gone right through it. The railroad right-of-way is on our title.

So Dan made his money on silver ore which ran through this property 60 years ago. That's where Aunt Miriam got her money, which she passed along to us, which let me buy the house in Victoria, which let me buy this place... which the ore ran through.

Boom. My head just esplode.

Jo-Anne here. Thought I'd post a picture of the quilt I made in January after the Christmas rush.

It's another Kaffe Fassett design, and I've had the material ready to go for a few years. Nice to have it done, and it will hang in the livingroom.

One of the seed packets we bought at the Kaslo Seedy Sunday was thyme, which I planted on Tuesday-- the girl selling told me that was the new moon and the best time to plant. Well, they were up in only three days, so there might just be something to that...

I've also ordered lots of veggie and herb seeds from the Cottage Gardener in southern Ontario, which specializes in organic heritage seed, and from Seeds of Victoria, which is Carolyn Harriot's line at the Garden Path. I've used Carolyn's seed before and the germination rate is terrific. Now I just have to figure out where I'm going to start all these plants.

I've also been tinkering with Mother Earth News' online garden planning tool. You can see what I've come up with here: http://gardenplanner.motherearthnews.com/garden-plan.aspx?p=231578. It's very cool-- it lets you plot your garden onto a graph, then click and fill in with veggies, flowers, and herbs. You can choose the variety from a drop-down list, and it then tells you how many plants per row or block you need. It uses your postal code to also determine frost free dates, and with each plant added to the plot, a list is generated showing when you need to sow, transplant, and harvest for your zone. You can even plan for succession crops (e.g., sowing leeks where the peas were when they're finished), and if you click on a given month it will show you what will be in the ground at that time. Finally-- and the big reason I wanted to try it-- is that it remembers plans for up to five years and will come up with a warning (which fades over five years) if you try to plant the same family in the same place. Because of using this, I've realized I don't have enough room in the lasagna garden for perennials like asparagus, artichoke, and strawberries, so they'll have to go elsewhere. I also don't have room for tomatoes and peppers but locals say they do better in the greenhouse anyway. What a great use of technology!

House update: drywall is almost finished, should be some time next week. I've finally decided on paint colours. Living in the workshop is starting to get on my nerves-- but then I remind myself that it is most certainly a first world problem, and one I can easily put up with. Many people would be more than happy to call this garage home!

   

So lately we've been hearing the spooky sound of coyotes yipping and wailing at night. Back in the early '80's when I lived way out in the boonies with my ex-husband, northeast of nowhere in an area known as Blackwater, we heard coyotes all the time. The cowboys who helped run our cattle told me under no uncertain terms it was pronounced 'kai-yoot', not 'kai-yotee'. That was for city folk and Americans, who tended to be lumped together for some reason. Anyway, back then we had a wonderful dog, who we never worried about around the coyotes. And I never worried about my own safety around them either... just enjoyed their singing under the stars.

But it seems something has happened to the Canadian coyote in the intervening decades. Maybe it's rising unemployment, a sense of alienation, or pack mentality, I don't know. What I do know is they've got a bad reputation. Dogs, cats, and gerbils disappear and people blame the coyotes. There are rumours of children and old folks being attacked. People walk quickly, afraid of being perceived as lame or weak. Even Paul (wildlife and animal lover that he is) glanced nervously over his shoulder on our first evening family walk after the coyotes showed up. I saw one down at a neighbours' a few weeks ago; he was leaning up against a fence, smoking a cigarette and checking out the chicks in the coop. We said 'hey' to each other and I continued on my way. Didn't seem so bad to me-- maybe a little sad and lost under all the bravado.

Kidding aside, we try to keep the cat in earlier in the evening, and Billie's after-dark pee-breaks are definitely supervised. It certainly hasn't deterred the two of them from wanting to do the evening stroll. Here's a picture of them lined up at the door, waiting:                                                          

Our walks are pretty hilarious. With Paul leading Billie on leash, we start out, and soon Cassius appears behind us. At certain points along the route (always the same) Billie lies down on the road and waits. Ice, snow, mud, doesn't matter. Which means Paul and I stand there and wait as well, while the cat takes his sweet time (as only cats can do) to sashay on up close to Billie. Sooner or later Billie twitches and then Cassius takes off (sometimes leaping over her)-- at which point Paul and Billie run like mad after the cat. Then Cassius darts off the street into a yard, and the whole routine starts over. It's pretty funny watching a 50 year old man running down the street in the dark with a dog, chasing a cat, and usually laughing his head off. I've asked him if he does it when I'm not along for the walk-- silly question, of course he does.

Here are some pictures of the progress on the house. Remember the upstairs hallway?                           

Here it is as of this week. New windows have been installed throughout the upstairs.

Here's a shot looking back the other way, toward the master suite and the new stairs.

Here is the kitchen, and below, the dining area to the left. I absolutely adore the light in the main living area. I am still obsessing over paint colours, and time is ticking away, as you can see. We should be ready in about ten days, and one of the carpenters and I will tackle painting while Paul works.

Speaking of which... for those who don't know, Paul has been a very busy boy. He's been hired on as a temp with Selkirk College, meaning he fills in at any of the campuses in Castlegar, Trail, or Nelson. They're booking him up fast-- right now he's working mornings in Trail, then coming home to work on the beekeeping business... which is going great guns! He drove across the border last week and picked up our first order of equipment (which is sitting in our 'livingroom' here in the workshop... this place is doing triple duty for us at this point), and we have customers! Check out our website at www.kootenaybeekeeping.com. Our byline as of today: "Kootenay Beekeeping Supplies: Taking Care of Buzziness since 2012".

Sigh. Stay tuned, there's plenty more where that came from...

Reno Update!

Gooood morning, dear readers! There is now a faint strip of light to the east at 6:30am, but with all the snow on the ground right now, it's hard to imagine summer and 4:30 sunrises. I'm putting off thinking about the garden and seeds for awhile yet-- it just feels as though our house needs to be put in order before going there. So on that note, here is an update on the renovations:

The carpenters are finishing prepping the house for drywalling, which will start next week. They're also swapping out all the old windows upstairs and installing new ones, including these in the front:

Formerly, there was only the one window in the centre. The house looks much more... substantial? Solid? House-like? It looks better, anyway-- and the two bedrooms on that end have waaaay more light!

The plumbing is finished! So that means the two bathrooms upstairs are plumbed for toilets, sinks, and our two clawfoot tubs, and the plumbing for the main floor bathroom sink has been shifted over to allow for a door to the laundry room. We have two vintage cabinets to yet be converted to vanities, both with vessel sinks awaiting. I'm excited about how terrific that's going to look.

The electrician has been working hard for weeks now. He had quite the challenge sorting out the puzzle that was the wiring in this place. But he's almost done-- upstairs has been completely wired for lights, baseboard heaters, fans in bathrooms, etc. Paul took some of the flourescents out of the workshop (there were far too many) and they are now installed in the attic-- a temporary arrangement until that space is finished. The wiring on the main floor has been revamped, with baseboard heaters pulled out of the living room/dining/kitchen areas. This space will be heated by the woodstove and a gas unit in the dining room.

The drywalling will take about three weeks or so, and then... WE PAINT! My favourite part, as those of you who know me, know. I've never felt such accute pressure to pick the 'right' colours... currently my thoughts are turning to all the beautiful greys available, as a backdrop for two of my jewel-toned quilts and our paintings in the main living area. We also have a vintage dining room hutch, currently painted white, that I think I'll paint a deep, glossy red or peacock blue. Yum. Stay tune for
Jo-Anne's Adventures in Colour.

After the drywall and painting is done, the kitchen goes in and the new flooring goes down, where needed. As you know, there is already beautiful hardwood throughout, except: at the river end where we expanded into the old addition; in one office on the main floor; the upstairs hallway; and the main bathroom upstairs. In all the upstairs bedrooms and the en suite bath, we've decided to use Benjamin Moore porch paint on the old original plank flooring. We'd used it in the Victoria house and it lasts for years and years and stays beautifully glossy.

The electrician has tried his best to preserve as many of the upstairs plaster walls as possible (that is, to cut into them as little as possible when installing wiring). So we'll have some of the original plaster to patch and paint, which will be great. Some walls we just couldn't save-- the whole upstairs hallway needs drywalling, and one bedroom was a lost cause as well. The bathrooms are pretty good, so just the ceilings will be done in drywall.

And so we're looking at a timeline of some time in March to move in.... not bad, really. I think I can make it. The workshop was feeling pretty bleak after Christmas, so I've set up my sewing machine and am working on another quilt-- and have two more planned. Between that, my work, dog walking, snow shovelling, evenings with Paul, it should be ok. We had Becca and Dean and friends Sarah and Gregg over for dinner the other night. Paul has been working like crazy getting Kootenay Beekeeping Supplies up and running. Our first order should be arriving in about three weeks (don't ask me where we're going to put it all.... just don't ask). There is still lots of interest out there from folks looking to buy beekeeping equipment, and Paul will be attending a local beginner's course to introduce himself and our product line. He's going to be terrific at this.

Next time, I'll post new pics of Billie and share with you a description of our hilarious evening walks. Until then, ciao my darlings!

How Very Merry It Was

Well, it's January 19th and I finally feel restored enough to tell you all about how our Christmas turned out. I'm sitting here with Billie at my feet-- she just fished my tea bag out of the garbage and had a pretty good chew of Acai Green before I got it away from her. If I keep hiding treats in the folds of her blanket, she might stay out of stuff long enough for me to write this.

So how did our first Christmas at Flying Leap go? Pretty well, actually, even though it had some hallmarks of a marathon. It started on December 15th, when Paul and I drove to Kelowna to pick up my son Luke and his partner Erika from the airport. It had been one and half years since we'd seen them (Becca & Dean's wedding) and of course I cried. They looked so young and healthy and beautiful, what's not to cry about?

These two stayed with us for a full three weeks, and what a gift they were! The very day after arriving, they tackled Project 'Move the Greenhouse So It Doesn't Block the View of the River for Christmas'. The greenhouse is 8' by 20' plexiglass, and it turned out to be a half-day job of digging and heave-ho'ing (there's a lot of that required around here, I'm learning). End result: it is now situated close to where it will be permanently installed on a concrete pad in the spring, and we have a gorgeous view of the river from our new dining room windows. Hurrah!

And of course, Erika being the amazing and talented girl she is, arrived with a suitcase full of gluten-free baking ingredients and treats from Toronto deli's for us to cook with. She knew that Dylan and I are gluten intolerant, and Becca was avoiding it and Luke should. We all cooked up a storm over the next three weeks, and I believe it was 100% gluten free and almost dairy free. That includes baking and multiple feasts-- proving that those of us with extra-sensitive gastrointestinal systems don't need to be gloomy sourpusses over the holidays.

On the 19th (Luke's birthday), Becca drove with Luke and Erika back to Kelowna to pick up Dylan and Alandra, who were flying in from Montreal. More joy to see these two, who had been wedded in September in Toronto. Our household was now complete with six of us staying at the Fleap. So where did we all end up sleeping and cooking and eating and bathing and lounging, you ask? To recap: my goal last September when we were so very optimistic and naive was to be moved into the house by Christmas. So we booked flights for the kids from TO and Montreal. By October, it was 'warn the kids things may not be completely finished'; by November I was despondent about being in the house at all and wondered where the heck we'd fit us all. By early December we were going with Plan D: have the carpenters mock up a kitchen for us (the gas was in and stove could be hooked up, and it was easy to push the new fridge into place and plug it in). Contractor Jim was very accommodating-- I think he was aware of my feelings about celebrating the holidays in the garage. The carpenters cleaned up the main floor by moving lumber and tools upstairs, tore the protective paper covering off the hardwood floors in the living room, and had given things a good sweeping. I went in the next morning and washed the floors twice.

So now it was December 22nd, and we had hauled over the dishes, pots and pans, dried and canned foods, refrigerater foods, couches, chairs, and Christmas decorations. We would eat and hang out in the house, and sleep in the three side-rooms in the garage, which Paul and I had cleaned out (moving boxes around yet again) and set up as bedrooms. I was in gritting-my-teeth-I-will-do-this-if-it's-the-last-thing-I-do mode. That afternoon, we decided we'd better look for a Christmas tree before the town ran out of them and we were forced to thieve off the Queen's land. Paul had noticed someone selling trees in the parking lot of the recreation centre, so he, Alandra and I climbed into the truck and headed out. Nothing there. Starting to panic. We cruised the main drag, and sure enough, spotted a man hanging out with four trees, in the lot of the garden supply place that was closed for the season. The last four trees for sale in town, and they were beautiful! $30.00 a piece or four for $90.00, he told us. We picked the biggest and best, stuffed it into the back of the truck, and headed home. Mission accomplished!

Here are some pics of the house decked out:

Luke and Erika cooking.

My lovely daughter-in-law Alandra making miniature Christmas decorations.

Love the cardigan and Star Trek communicator.

From the dining room window.

Some of my favourite moments from the holidays: Rebecca and Dylan bent over a chess game, hearing them talking and laughing; all of us gathered around the large dining room table we bought for the new house, for so many fantastic feasts; opening presents around the woodstove Christmas morning; seeing the Nutcracker livestreamed from the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow, at the Royal movie theatre in Trail; games of Risk, Trivial Pursuit, Sequence, MindTrap, Five Thousand; spinning honey with Luke and Erika, a task long overdue; talking by the fire and sipping liqueurs; snuggling into bed at night with my kids nearby-- can't beat that.

We said goodbye to Alandra on the 26th, Dylan on the 29th, and Luke and Erika on January 1st. On January 2nd we were back to one puppy (we'd taken care of Becca and Dean's Cooper while they were in Calgary visiting his family), and we couldn't believe how quiet things were. The carpenters arrived on the 3rd and helped carry the couches and comfy chairs back into the garage. It was all over, and boy was it worth it.

Some things we learned: 1) Don't book family to fly into Kelowna in the winter; pay the extra and take the chance they'll be able to land in 'Cancelgar'. 2) The house will work really, really well when it's finished. 3) Put a heater in the river end of the house, it gets chilly down there even with the woodstove on. 4) Finish the space under the stairs in the living room for wood storage-- we need a lot in the winter! And 5) This is going to be a phenomenal place for family and friends.

Much love and a Happy New Year to all!