Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

4.04.2017

guest room in progress

Oh, hi there! Long time, no see! Let's do a home decor-type blog post, shall we?

Back in 2007, we put the home office in the room in the northeast corner of the house at the recommendation of our electrician, because it was the only one with grounded outlets. This past October, Bram had the outlets in the junk/guest room grounded, and the day after Thanksgiving we began The Great Room Migration (see that post below from November).



Real estate listing photo, February 2007
I'm only just now noticing that they totally Photoshopped out the breaker box!
... AND the outlet under it!



May 2007




June 2007



Looky here! It's a mood board-type thing! I'm a nerd.


[click to embiggen]

1 walls Behr Garden Wall 730D-4 | trim Behr Swan Wing WF-400

2 artwork from the collection, clockwise from top left | watercolor c.2005 by Jamie Chase | collotype c.1990 | two monoprints on aluminum litho plates c.1990 by Albert Fung | Public Theater poster for Silence, Cunning Exile c.1993 by Paula Scher | painting 1998 by Joey M. Robinson | painting c.1970 by Ange Banko

3 old Ikea linen curtains c.1997 | BlindsMax Timber SolarVue Solar shades - M screen in Deco Flagstone D249

4 Room & Board Hudson Storage Bed | wall-mounted nightstands by James Holmes | old Ikea lamps c.2000

5 silk and wool quilted throw | Fabrics-Store.com 4C22 100% Heavyweight Linen in Mix Natural | latex and memory foam hybrid mattress

6 FLOR Carry A Torch in Ebony

November 2016
Painting over the Thanksgiving long weekend







January 2017
New FLOR carpet tiles and bed



February 2017
New mattress; old bedside lamps; sorting through art to hang (welcome back Silence)



Remaining artwork framed/re-framed, added proper hanging hardware, hung; repaired shades for bedside lamps



March 2017
Sewed linen duvet cover + pillowcases; new pillows; installed blind + curtains on one window — had to stop when inanimate objects began conspiring against me



April 2017
Installed blind + curtains on second window; neatened up



Mr. Holmes is currently making the little wall-hung nightstand boxes. Other than hanging those when they're done, the room just needs a few more housekeeping-type things done (clear out those boxes, re-orient the marble-top, find a home for the wicker chest), so I'll end this post here.

I'll see about doing a full-on, prepped-for-guests reveal post with better pix later. Like maybe in July? ... Stacy??

1.01.2014

What Were You Doing New Year's Eve?







And this morning, we were not up early enough to hear the special holiday return to the airwaves of Mouth of Wonder that we recorded when M+D were here.



Update: here's the radio show.

1.15.2012

From the Collection

 

On display now at the Wethersfield Historical Society, a couple pieces my grandfather made in the "Wethersfield Woodworking" exhibit.

12.23.2011

White Pre-Christmas



Awoke this morning to about 4" of snow this morning, the nice powdery stuff this time. Shoveling and clearing the cars, then a sniff-ful walk across the river with the dog.

Afternoon at the museums downtown with M+D, targeting the Drake and St. John's Bible exhibits.

Temperature's dropping already, but snow's been melting away all day. And now a bumper sticker spotted on the way home has us wondering, "what, indeed?"

6.04.2011

"One Trusted with Private or Secret Matters"

The title Administrative Assistant (or Personal Assistant, I hear more working with Europe), now much more in fashion than Secretary. There's baggage that goes with the term — but its origin as one who is entrusted with keeping secrets (post's title from Dictionary.com) has a noble heritage. Jefferson was secretary of state; that's good enough for me to be secretary of our comic nonprofit.

More than a decade ago, my grandparents had the family claim the household items we wanted for when the time came. I'd already taken some photos, some arts and crafts they made, put my name on a few more, but there was only one piece of furniture that I wanted:




The secretary had always sat in the living room. Grandpa built it in 1947. Its trip to Santa Fe last month did not go well; the accompanying chair (at the left, above) sustained some damage, but a local furniture restorer was able to repair it seamlessly.

For now, it resides in the spare room, also in a bit of flux. When I got it into the house, I just started opening and closing all the drawers, looking in the little cubby holes designed for pens and pencils and stamps and letter openers and checkbooks and whatnot. It dates from a time when your office was a corner of whatever room you could fit in; but now, we've got whole room with a sprawling desk, file cabinets and bookshelves. I use maybe one check a month, bills don't get mailed. The laptop could sit on top, probably fit on the open desktop, but any co-worker can attest how hard I hit the keyboard.

I was showing it off to the furniture restorer, who just kept going on about the craftsmanship, what great shape it's in (seriously, it was like Antiques Roadshow), how he wanted to shake Grandpa's hand. Just oil and take care of it, and it would outlast us all — it's the kind of piece that becomes an antique.

There's a separate bookshelf unit for the top that I'm admittedly conflicted about. We don't need shelves there. It's very, very Colonial. And, really, it changes the whole nature of the piece; I enjoy the compactness of it, its dimensions without the shelves. Originally I had thought to repurpose the shelf unit — the way the wood from the coffee table I also wound up with was repurposed from a TV cabinet. But after the restorer's comments, I don't know if I should break up the set.

I oiled it today, moved it to its location for the foreseeable future. For now, the secretary is kind of awaiting its purpose. Some of the domestic office work may find its way there, or it may wind up being for guests. It's proven itself trustworthy, and somehow it'll find its way to handling private and secret matters again.

4.02.2010

Zuni Greyhound



When M+D were here last Christmas, they went to Keshi to commission a Greyhound fetish. Delivered this week, we stopped by today to pick up the piece by artist Cody Nastacio.

Over lunch, we discussed what Greyhound medicine would be. Best we came up with was "move fast when necessary, then spend the rest of the time resting."

(Monica, furloughed today; I took the day off. Somewhere in there we spent a decent chunk of time making comics, which will hopefully bear fruit in the next couple months. Out a bit, but it was a cold, blustery, snowsqually day).

3.21.2010

Another Austin and STAPLE!

The annual trip to Austin and STAPLE! a couple weeks back — this time, though, we flew out of the Santa Fe Airport.

Excitement and exhaustion started the night before, on Thursday. A bit late at work to get wrapped up; off to the dogsitters' where, though Cheyenne had met the new canine resident, we stuck around to make sure all three houndies would be fine. To the grocery store, where I ran into a friend who had tons of news and wanted to share. Then, pulling out on to Alameda, two dogs darting into the road. One got away and headed west, determined to go somewhere. But Soul was easier to bribe with sandwich meat; got the phone number on her tag, alerted her owner: "they're with my housemate … ohhhh." Luckily, the other one had also been found by the time they met us in the parking lot to gather Soul. So it was a late night, by the time everything was settled, arranged, and packed, and an early morning to catch the 8:15 to Dallas.



A municipal airport, built in the '50s; recently, mostly used for private aviation and one Denver flight that was suspended years ago. But with runway upgrades, prairie dog relocation, it's ready for commercial flights. Just over 15 minutes there, pull into the dirt parking lot (actually, I scored a spot in the paved area), stuff the $3 a day into an envelope for parking, and into the terminal. We'd actually scoped it out a couple weeks ago, so we knew what to expect. It's small. Walk in, check-in to the left. A dozen steps to the right, in the line for security to the one gate. A restaurant, but we brought bagels — plus, the seats were filling up at the gate, so through security (where one TSA agent described what they were doing as "extreme multitasking"). A brief wait, then outside and onto the little Embraer for a steep takeoff and uneventful flight.

Played it too safe with the connections, so we sat too long at DFW, but still got into Austin by 2:00-ish. Bright gray out, which seems to be how I remember most of our arrivals. Time to head downtown to the South Congress Street area, recommended by Design*Sponge as a design-y way to spend some time. And get cupcakes.



Seems to be a trend in some of the hip, real cities, where folks start a food business out of some Airstream or Airstream-like thing, focusing on one cuisine. Hey Cupcake! was actually in a park area alongside a bunch of others, but we were there for the sugar and chocolate. Mmmmmm. And then strolling the area, the shops and galleries, scoping out the restaurants. In touch with our friend and Austin resident Rob to set up dinner plans for the night, then to the hotel and time to rest.

And Rob had to cancel because of a family emergency (that, ultimately worked out fine, but it did throw him for a couple days). We were going to take his recommendation about where to go, but absent that, back to County Line Barbecue for ribs. And, stuffed, to Austin Books and Comics for the pre-party.

I think my lack of mingling skills is pretty well known — and, I have to say, probably shared by the other comics creators there, so a brief stop to scope out the insanely large selection, then back for the night. I recall a lot of procedurals on cable over the course of the weekend.

I'm beginning to think there's a mindset that creeps in around the third time at a convention — first one's all new and exciting and confusing; second one's a rush, but there's also the excitement of having a plan; by the third, well, a routine creeps in. Becoming jaded is a concern and, while I wouldn't say that's the case with us at STAPLE!, we know enough to understand that the 11:00 start time isn't a real deadline. Time for sleeping in, a leisurely breakfast at Elsi's, where I sampled the local specialty: breakfast tacos. I knew they were a thing, but it's become clear what a phenomenon they are when the NYT had a primer for those going to SXSW. Too late for me to consult, but I was happy with our choice; lessons learned: next time, fewer tacos, more ingredients on each. And the arrival at the show around 10:40, visit with Rob, and ready to go sometime around 11:10 worked out just fine.



Almost in the same spot as last year. On one side, Rob's friend François, who was interesting and fun to swap stories with. On the other side, a guy with minicomics and another with longboxes of back issues who didn't even introduce themselves (full disclosure: we didn't really try to engage them, either); at some point, they just started playing Scrabble behind their table. Sales were respectable — though down noticeably from last year, and it felt like the crowd was smaller. But it was a good one, with some repeat customers, a couple who knew us from one Web site or another, and new folks. Others in the same room were echoing our thoughts; those in the other room were claiming superior traffic, but I dunno. It still passed in a blur, and then we were done. For the first time, STAPLE! organized a post-con, pre-party dinner.



At Franklin Barbecue, another Airstream restaurant kind of thing. In the parking lot of a coffee shop, through a residential neighborhood, just by the I-35 overpass. Ordinarily closed in the evenings, but available to us (and, by the looks of things, a few lucky passersby). Wait in line, up to the counter; brisket for Monica, so he carved a bunch of pieces off some there; ribs for me. For that, he had to go to the metal shed next door which housed the smoker.

All so good and the espresso sauce made it transcendent; we were dumping the stuff on the slices of white bread we got. Seating was at picnic tables, after being outcasts for a bit, wound up with a group of Dallas cartoonists who all knew each other; an entertaining bunch to pass the evening with. Coming down from the momentum, we opted out of the STAPLE! party and called it a night.



Sunday came, bright gray again. Again, per Web recommendations, back to South Congress Street to the South Congress Café. A happening place for Sunday brunch, good food. Then, because I've never quite researched things to do in Austin beyond what we did on our first trip (and I'm pretty sure there are), off to IKEA; because sales were good enough, we had room for a new kitchen rug.



Rob wound up being available for some catch-up, so headed back into town and visited at Kick Butt Coffee for a while, then headed west to Carol and Doug's. Arriving around 4:00, Doug was still out in the vineyards, fertilizing the vines.



He had a ways to go, so we jumped in and helped — getting us all out of the vines and into the grapes a bit sooner. And with time to check out the winery and cellar construction.



Saralee, recently relocated to the area, joined us for dinner. Tenderloin, plenty of good wine.

Extended the usual trip by a day to enjoy ourselves out in the Hill Country. After a slow morning and big breakfast, per Doug's recommendation, off to Fredericksburg. A pretty, hour-long drive, mostly on ranch roads. The town, originally settled by Germans and still retaining that influence, a local tourist spot. Also the birthplace of Admiral Chester Nimitz, which explains all the Pacific/nautical stuff in this very inland town (he's notable to me for the belt buckle I still have from my godfather's visit to the eponymous aircraft carrier 30+ years ago). Stroll along Main Street, a big lunch that we probably didn't need but couldn't pass up at the Fredericksburg Brewery, and then an unsuccessful attempt to get to a bakery; in retrospect, it makes perfect sense that they close in the early afternoon.



The drive home took us by the Lyndon Johnson National Historical Park, and the weather was finally clearing, so checked it out. Stopped by the state portion, a living history museum with structures from the 1700s and 1800s, pigs, sheep who glared at me, and other livestock, along with some reenactors who, among other things, had been putting up bacon in lard. The National Park portion was mostly a driving tour, accompanied by narration on CD; tours of the "Western White House" available, but it was getting late. And there was shepherd's pie for us back at the ranch.

Easy trip home, got our baggage, being right at the car and right in town was especially welcome. Sunny and clear, but for going back to work, awoke to this: