Kelsi W. (05-30-10)

This is a not-very-good sketch of Kelsi W., whose smile is a lot cuter than this.

I bought a cherry tree! (05-29-10)

I can't help it, I love cherries...often eating them till I feel miserably sick (I once ate 5 lb)...

To satisfy my annual lust for cherries, I ordered a Compact Stella tree from One Green World Nursery.

We already have a huge cherry tree on the property, but it is so tall that the branches are out of reach of even a 20-ft ladder.

Phi Theta Kappa Induction Ceremony (05-28-10)

Julia who started college last year at age 16, got inducted into the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. It is really a credit to all the work she's done, while looking totally unfazed. 
Each student's name was called one at a time and they had to go to a table to sign their name on an official document, light a candle from the candle set on the table, then walk across the floor to shake some guy's hand who gave each student a nice certificate with their name on it, then walk back to the table with the certificate and burning candle to pick up a white rose and then back to their space in the auditorium... It was totally weird, in a sort of nineteenth century pageant way.

I sketched a few of the people attending. The woman with the scarf was apparently a visiting officer from the national chapter of the honor society, but that didn't stop her from taking Julia's seat at the small dinner afterward (despite the presence of Julia's jacket and bag), and then from looking cross with us when Julia reclaimed her seat. That was a bit awkward.

Work has started on the shed (05-27-10)

After days of agonizing over it, I finally decided to hire the artist carpenter since he was available when I was ready to get started with the project.
We decided to focus on fixing the base structure at this point, to get it ready for pest control treatment and insulation. So far, he removed the damaged wood boards (carpenter ants), replaced them with new ones, and installed the French doors I bought at the Rebuilding Center. So here are some before and after photos of this work in progress.

Man in a Crowd (05-26-10)

I like this drawing; the man looks relaxed standing amidst a crowd at a meeting of the Oak Lodge Community Council.

The Mammogram (05-21-10)

I dread getting mammograms. I never used to worry about my breasts until my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and died.

Comics Logos (05-10)

I drew these for the final project I compiled for the Comics class I teach once a week (ages 8-12) at the Walters Cultural Arts Center in Hillsboro. I wanted these to be fun, yet to clearly look like a logo.

Stately Oak Tree (05-13-10)

Today, I directed the students in my adult Sketching class at the Walters Cultural Arts Center to work on sketches outdoors. While they were busy, I drew the old oak tree in front of the building.

Efficiency Expert at Church (05-11-10)

This is a sketch of an "Efficiency Expert"who came to give a presentation at my church.
She went in great details over the benefits of using the many (unmatched) mini lazy-susan spinning trays ("for toiletries!"), pink fabric drawer inserts ("so cute"), drawer organizers ("for toothbrushes and toothpaste!"), etc. she'd brought with her. It was a bit obsessive-compulsive, but to each his own...
Yet, the suggestion that these props were a necessary means to an organized house (and an implied condition for the ultimate goal of pleasing God) struck me as ridiculous and laughable. I don't think God cares about the state of my drawers.

Wanted: A Competent Contractor (05-12-10)

My days are spent trying to get contractors to give me estimates to make the shed usable as an art studio to spread my art supplies around. There is no middle ground; contractors are like day and night.

An upscale-looking remodeling website recommended this contractor based on my zip code. Right off, when I see that this gentleman specializes in Lake Oswego and West Linn remodel, I doubt that my modest project will be worth his attention… In any case, he comes promptly with his dad, a retired architect. Both are dressed in business casual, and, with similar perfectly creased pants and matching shirt, look so much alike that I can’t help repeatedly cast surreptitious glances from the father to the son during the visit. Rather than give pertinent directions as to what I am expecting from the project, all I can do is distractedly point to the inside of the shed and lamely say that I want it, you know, “nice.” They walk around the inside of the shed, take notes on a legal-sized pad, nod their head in unison, and promptly leave with the promise of an estimate... Neither ever calls back.

According to my real estate agent, this guy is a true artist who worked on various local artsy projects on a regular basis. He looks like a nice quiet young guy, but seems to be pretty bummed out due to some recent losses in his life. He explains what could be done to turn the shed into a really cool building and seems knowledgeable about how go about to achieve that result. The problem is that he doesn’t have any tools at the moment, and neither do we; I am not sure how this problem can be overcome. He sends me a rather vague text estimate via his cell phone.

The day I find a crudely printed black and white flyer in my mailbox praising the merits of this contractor, I am particularly fed up with deciphering Yellow Pages ads in tiny print, so I call him, my heart full of hope. He seems competent enough, but I am not sure he understands what I mean by "an artistic look, like in North Portland," using materials from the Rebuilding Center. The blank look I get in return and his immediate naming a nearby suburban home improvement center as a perfect source for materials suggests that he does not, in fact, know what I am talking about. As I ponder whether this guy has ever been anywhere outside of suburbia, he clears his throat and spits something huge on the gravel outside the shed... (My mental picture of my perfect little shed is now jarred by the presence of pools of spit…). His high estimate confirms my determination to not hire him.

Many times, one relies on a network of people who recommend people who did a great job, etc. This contractor, a smiling, happy-go-lucky type, comes with high recommendations. His estimate is very affordable, but I am not sure he understands the scope of the project, despite my best efforts to overcome the language barrier. When I mention getting recycled materials, he suggests vinyl windows, then shouts "No problem!" when I object. In fact, he keeps interjecting "No problem!" for every issue we may find, be they carpenter ants or structural beam that need strengthening. This is a man with vision. He gesticulates, waves his arms around; we could move over that wall, remove the siding; we could even tear down the building and build a new one! Despite his contagious enthusiasm, deep inside I suspect that there will be problems down the road...

Again, the homeowner benefits from using references, and references from other contractors are valuable. This guy exudes a quiet self-assurance in his capabilities, seems competent and immediately comes up with sound solutions to eventual issues we may encounter. He clearly knows what he is talking about and asks me to give him a chance to prove his skills. As I finally think I may have found the right person for the job and I see my charming little art shed taking concrete shape in my mind, I get an email from him. His high estimate is distressing; I just can't afford him.

So, it looks like I will either pull my hair over costs, or pull my hair over having to babysit someone all the way...

Efficiency Expert at Church (05-11-10)

This is a sketch of an "Efficiency Expert"who came to give a presentation at my church.
She went in great details over the benefits of using the many (unmatched) mini lazy-susan spinning trays ("for toiletries!"), pink fabric drawer inserts ("so cute"), drawer organizers ("for toothbrushes and toothpaste!"), etc. she'd brought with her. It was a bit obsessive-compulsive, but to each his own...
Yet, the suggestion that these props were a necessary means to an organized house (and an implied condition for the ultimate goal of pleasing God) struck me as ridiculous and laughable. I don't think God cares about the state of my drawers.

The Toxic Couch: Part Two (05-10-10)

Now, you may ask, what does NOT work on a cat-stench-infected high-end leather sofa bed and recliner bought on Craigslist? Here is the answer, from direct experience: Febreze (1 bottle); Nature's Miracle (2 bottles); Biokleen (3 bottles). Add to that, a couple of big rolls of paper towels to spread the products all over the leather.

I removed the cushions from their zippered covers and took them to the laundromat, with the idea that if they were thoroughly cleaned, the problem may be resolved at last. Armed with detergent and bleach from home, I loaded three large-sized front-loading washers with the cushions. I filled the soap and bleach dispensers with what I estimated to be the required amount of liquid to deal with the situation at hand, and for good measure, I added yet more soap and bleach in each washer's dispenser. I watched as the machines filled with soapy water, and as I saw the water level rise behind the glass door, I noted with slight alarm that there was an awful lot of foam.

I was alone in the laundromat. I could see some foam pushing through the soap dispenser door on the top of one of the washers; I tried to wipe if off with my hand, but the foam was coming through anyway. A card on the wall behind the washers said that the place was under surveillance 24 hours a day. A glance to my left confirmed the presence of a camera overhead. I casually walked over to the thrash can by a folding table and pulled out an old pair of jeans that had been tossed away.
The foam had worked its way through the dispenser door and was now pulsating down the front and side of the washer and pooling on the floor. I tried to wipe everything, like it was just no big deal, once in a while glancing at the camera overhead. As I was busy wiping, I caught sight of mountains of foam cascading out of reach, at the back of the washer and the one next to it... Needless to say, once my load was done and the cushions had gone through a dryer cycle, I was out of there in no time.
But the cushions had come through with flying colors. They were clean and smell-free. There was hope, after all.

Filled with visions of myself sitting on my luxury distressed leather couch and telling people about my good fortune ("Would you believe, I got this $4,000 Restoration Hardware set on Craigslist of all places!), and bolstered by my success with the cushions, I decided that I might as well also take the leather cushion covers to the laundromat.

I walked in like an old pro, put detergent in the dispenser, inserted money and washed them, three times for good measure. I stood in front of the machine like it was perfectly normal to have this unappealing, even gross, stuff churning inside, and watched the yellow-brown water swirl about behind the glass, every turn of the drum causing a shot of brown color to ooze into the foam. Once done, I carefully stretched the wet covers and ran them through a gentle dryer cycle.

But despite the thorough washes, the part of the cushions that had been at the back of the sofa and recliner still smelled awful and rank and was gummy and sticky to the touch and stained my fingers with an oily substance I tried wiping on my jeans. When I got home, I asked Gary to help me gently stretch the covers, to then let them air dry on a chair in the sun. Cripes and aggravation! Inadvertently pulling too hard on one of the gummy corners caused the leather to tear!

At the Beauty School (05-08-10)

A nice sketch of a young woman at the Beauty School; she caught my attention because her haistyle reminded me of a young Parisian at the turn of the 20th century...

Quick Wall Study (05-06-10)

A quick sketch of a wall at the Walters Cultural Arts Center in Hillsboro where I teach Art classes once a week.

The Toxic Couch: Part One (05-02-10)

One evening, while cruising the Internet, I saw an ad on Craigslist for a fabulous-looking leather recliner and sofa bed. The ad caught my attention: "We are literally selling these for pennies on the dollar. EXCELLENT condition except for the areas that have been treated as a scratching post." True, looking at the photos, one could see that the arms of the recliner were extensively scratched, but still, the set looked pretty cool.

We'd given our worn out couch and loveseat away before moving, and this pair looked like a viable replacement. I insisted that Gary and I go to check them out all the way to Hillsboro despite his less than enthusiastic response when I showed him the Craigslist ad.

The house looked new and decent enough, and the guy how opened the door was friendly. Yet there was something odd about the inside. There was no carpeting in the living room; the perimeter of the room was edged with what appeared to be unswept matted pet hair. The exposed plywood was grimy and had large dark oily stains in several spots. My mind registered the incongruities, but I dismissed them when I saw the sofa bed and recliner. The set had that casual elegance of quality expensive furniture, and the leather color was a warm brown and distressed finish. I immediately liked them.

The only problem with the sofa bed and recliner, the owner said, was that the resident cat had clawed the arms extensively. But this was an expensive set he assured us; it set came from Restoration Hardware, and cost thousands of dollars. They were reluctant to part with their furniture, but hoped that by parting with it, they would be able to train the cat to not scratch the new furniture they were planning to purchase. How old is the cat, I politely asked. Twelve, he said. Again, a little warning sign flashed in my mind, but I merely chuckled at the answer, looked at Gary, and rolled my eyes at the idea that one could train a twelve year-old cat to do anything.

The guy opened the sofa bed, and, -I swear there are times when I wonder about my powers of observation-, although I noticed that he had a difficult time working the mechanism due to very visible rusting of the springs, I didn't wonder why there was rust in the first place, or why the leather was darker in some areas on the back and in the recesses of the couch... So, like a dummy, I paid the guy $160 cash. We quickly loaded the furniture in the truck and trailer under pouring rain, and off we went, Gary and I couchless no more...or so we thought.

When we got home and unloaded the pair from the trailer, as we lifted the sofa up, we got a whiff of a pervasive horrific smell. Upon close examination, we found that the inside of the sofa and the recliner had been used as toilet by an animal, most likely the same cat responsible for the scratches.

To make this sorry story short, despite weeks spent airing under the carport, the sofa and mattress were unsalvageable. They exuded the most repellent toxic fumes that made walking by them enough of an ordeal that one would prefer going around the carport rather than be exposed to the stench.

But wait! There's more!..

Our Very Own Vermin!!! (05-01-10)

Here are some photos of the disgusting carpenter ants we found in the shed.

1. Beam damage; 2. Remnants of nest; 3. They're back! 4. Still trying...

But that wasn't all...

A rat's nest!

New Sketchbook (05-01-10)

I started a new BomoArt sketchbook, and this one is areal beauty!

Tree Work: Part 3 (04-21-10)

Today, surveyors from the company that had been hired to work on the lot split from 1998 came to show me where the survey posts are on the property. Watching them walk around, I realized belatedly that we could have found some of the markers ourselves with a metal detector (cash register sounds; this service will cost us close to $400). Anyway, now we know who owns what. The East-West property line runs through the large circular flowerbed near the driveway to the nextdoor neighbor’s double-wide; two-third of it is theirs. On the other hand, we do own the Shade Garden area, which I think is rather pretty with my birdbath in its middle.

While the tree hackers were back to cut down a tree next door, I cleaned up the remnants of the wisteria. A close examination revealed a lot of decay; parts of the vines are so rotten, they fall apart when touched, the wood feels moist and runny and is full of fine compost.
I also weeded part of the Rose Garden and the bare dirt areas South of the wisteria today.
At some point during the day, a lady appeared in the driveway next door and demanded to talk to the arborist. I realized that this must be the lady, who has been described to me as “crazy” by two different people.

My suspicions about the front next door neighbor were correct: this a person to be careful with. She saw me weeding the yard, and asked me if things had turned out "bigger than expected." I was a bit put off by the way she'd asked the question, since it suggested that I may be overwhelmed by the amount of yard work. I said that it was just the way we expected, I was just weeding the yard, nothing more. I overheard her describe the neighbor across the street as “crazy” to the arborist.

Looks like we bought into a pretty weird neighborhood.

Of course, when it came time to put the cable in the oak tree as agreed the day before, it turns out that rather than use a Cobra cable as agreed upon, Mr. Tree Guy tied the tree with a red-colored heavy-duty rope. I can’t believe the aggravations I’ve had with these people. I pointed out to him that this is not what we had discussed previously. He offered to give me a guarantee in writing that would be good “for the lifetime of the rope” (whatever that meant). I almost wanted to laugh at him.
We didn’t get the pile of wood chips we were promised, another reason to feel irritated.

Tree Work: Part 2 (04-20-10)

I had misgivings about the tree people, so I called their boss in the morning and offered to pay them for yesterday's work and call it a day, but she assured me that everything was fine, she was going to be there all day to supervise the work, etc. So they proceeded with the work.

Hah! What a mistake: they cut my wisteria down! The %^&!! lumberjacks cut it down many reminders to preserve it. The base of the wisteria was enormous but very decayed. From there, it went way up the fir tree, with a huge section of tangled dead old vines hanging precariously on the left side, and a dense network of newer thin vines actively growing and climbing on the right side. So, as he was trimming the branches off the fir tree, the guy removed the dead wisteria branches on the left as he had been instructed. When they fell down, what was left looked GREAT. I was at that point really happy with the results.

Then, about ten minutes later, I saw the guy cut horizontally across the new vines, and, in disbelief, before I could yell at him to stop, the entire mass of new vines came tumbling down with a huge crashing sound. I just about died. I screamed and yelled, but it was too late. Idiot. I was EXTREMELY angry, yelling and cursing, and then the boss drove up the alley in her truck, like everything was fine.

As the wisteria lay in a heap on the ground, the neighbor across the street came running up the driveway, asking why I had the wisteria cut, “It was so lovely,” he said. I was livid, and yelling that I didn't have it cut: the Neanderthal idiot up there had done it!

Seeing that I was upset, the neighbor kindly took me to his house to show me the work that had been done to their dining and living rooms. He seems like a nice eccentric type who talks with a muffled English accent. A pole at the corner of their property display a US and a Norwegian flag which have been flown at half-mast  for the last few days (perhaps because of the passing of the Health Care bill a couple of weeks ago?)

As for my wisteria, the damage is irreversible. But after I got really upset and stormed inside the house slamming the door, they gathered the leftover of a clump that fell to the ground and tied it to the tree as high as they could, rather than leaving everything laying in a heap on the ground. I got $200 off the agreed price, big deal!, and little consolation, since a plant that old was truly invaluable, especially when part of a historic property.

Tree Work: Part 1 (04-19-10)

Lots of activity today. The tree service people showed up late and didn’t get started until 9:00 AM. I’ve tried to take it in stride, but couldn’t help feel irritated when I saw that some tree limbs had been dropped on my rhododendron bushes across from the carport. The same thing happened with the boxwood shrubs on the front left side of the house. Also, they were supposed to leave us some of the wood, but they let the logs right on top of the new sod the roofer placed over the spot where he damaged the front lawn.

Gary did it all today: he tore down more shelving out of the shed, swept the inside of the shed (you don't wanna know), sprayed carpenter ant poison, dug up the old carpets that were buried behind the shed (I guess, that's an innovative way to dispose of them...), carried boulders, organized the tool stuff under the carport, broke moving boxes down, swept the carport, killed Mondo Spiders...

Speaking of spiders, I got bit by something, probably when I was pulling ivy behind the shed. I’ve got fifteen red itchy welts on my lower legs. A hot shower gave only passing relief. I hope it doesn't get worse.

"Mondo" Spider Sightings (04-19-10)

Here is a photo of a "Mondo" spider that was hiding behind a dumpy cupboard under the carport.
Since we moved, this is the fifth time we've run into of this type of spider. We apparently are a central gathering place for these little critters...

Garden Wonders (04-18-10)

I planted some heirloom tomatoes in the garden today:) It’s probably too early, but I don’t care: I wanted to dig in the dirt and plant something.

Large-scale tree work is to be done (by professionals) tomorrow; we hope to save parts of the ancient wisteria.

In the yard: wisteria, tulips, peony tree, lilacs, blueberries, raspberries, currants, spruce trees, camphor elm, white oaks, rose garden, vegetable garden, shade garden, hostas, calla lilies, lavender, gold dust, daphne, butterfly bush, magnolia tree, plum and cherry trees, lawns, azaleas, rhododendrons, peonies, hyacinths... Hydrangeas...Lilies of the valley...Bleeding Heart... It's truly lovely.

Gary and I went over to introduce ourselves to the people who share the flag lot next door (West side). It looks like there are some oddball characters in the neighborhood.

The front house is occupied by a family of four, but we only met the lady. She showed us her huge cat who, she said, can’t go outside because he eats squirrels. She seemed to not like some of the neighbors around and struck me as one of those people one does not want to tell too much to.

The back house is occupied by a couple, their grown daughters, and two grandchildren. Based on the assortment of non-working vehicles, miscellaneous broken toys and items thrown about (I am especially thinking about that large white cardboard box that has been discarded in the yard for who knows how long…), it doesn’t look like they have much time for house and yard maintenance . The back of their yard is covered with piles of wood (likely place for more carpenter ants...)

Paint Problems (04-16-10)

While (reluctantly) painting my closet, Christopher accidentally tipped over the paint tray filled with purple paint, and it fell against the mosaic glass window with a hand.
The window was saved by Monica’s quick reactions: she grabbed the window and ran downstairs to the kitchen (without dripping paint). She then helped me scrub the paint off the pieces of colored glass with a dish brush. As we were frantically scrubbing, we in turn sent purple sprinkles flying on the inside of the sink, on the wall, the floor... There was purple paint everywhere! The only way to get the paint off the window frame was to scrub it with baking soda.

The Paint for my Closet (04-12-10)

A few years ago, when I was thinking of painting my bedroom, I asked my daughter Valérie who worked at Division Hardware to get me some Aura paint the color of a bowl of raspberries." She came back with two gallons of the weirdest dark pink color, and I realized that there was no way I could ever get my bedroom walls painted that color.
Fast forward to the present. When I first saw this house, I was surprised by the strangely familiar color of the walls in one of the small room upstairs... So, when I decided to repaint the room before using it as a dressing room, the natural choice was the never used two gallons of dark pink paint.
In the photo, one can see how little difference there is between the wall paint and the paint I had bought and never years before... What are the odds for something like that to happen?!

Mosaic Glass Windows (04-07-10)

I went all the way to Houlton Bakery in St Helens where some mosaic windows made by Jennifer Hanson, the same artist who did the three windows I bought at Portico were on display. I bought two of the windows on display, one of a cherry tree in bloom, and one of a sun. I think this type of windows is just what I was looking for to bring some color to the house.
I am pretty excited that the artist is coming by on Saturday, to look at the bedroom upstairs, to get an idea of the colors of the exiting stained glass casement windows, to match then, -if not in style-, at least, in colors.

Contractors (04-07-10)

I got a call from the weatherization contractor, who told me that when his assistant went under the house, he distinctively smelled an odor of gas. He said it would be a good idea for me to call the gas company. So I called them, and a truck was in a driveway within five minutes of my call. I swear, the guy had to be parked down the street waiting for the call!

The guy from the gas company was a tall old guy with a German accent. No matter how I mentioned growing up a mere 20 miles from the nearest German border, and how much I love German food, he just acted gruff and unfriendly.
When he entered the house, he gave me a weird look and said that he’d been here before. When I pressed him for details, he was vague, though…just like the guy who came to install the phone line who, once he volunteered that he had been here before, refused to say anything else… I am starting to feel that I bought the (cursed) house of a sorceress.

In any case, this big guy claimed there was a possible gas leak at the furnace to floor junction, but since he didn’t anymore than waive his wand over the furnace pipes, I don't know what to think. He didn't go under the house either. I knew he wouldn’t the minute I saw him: he was, ahem, lumbering and pot-bellied; I couldn’t imagine him fitting in the crawlspace without getting stuck. He just gave me a card with the gas company logo on which he had checked a box saying that “the problem needs to be addressed,” to call the number printed on the card to get a referral for a contractor who would fix the leak.

Doodle Study in Black and White (ca. 04-10)

I started with the drawing in the center, then built around it...

Weatherization underway (04-06-10)

The Energy Trust-approved contractor’s assistant came by today. He checked the insulation in the attic, and then he went under the house. I could picture it like a horror show down there, with bunches of spider nests loaded with eggs ready to hatch right over his head...

"Mondo" Spider Sighting (04-04-10)

While I was explaining something to Valérie and her friend Meghan, Meghan started pointing at something behind me: there was a giant spider on the kitchen door frame. I ran out of the house screaming. Meghan apparently caught the spider because she walked out of the house carefully holding a paper towel. From my safe spot behind my car, I ordered her to KILL IT!, but she shook her head and walked to the edge of the property. She came back assuring me that she had made sure that the spider took off in the direction away from our house.

Gary and I went to Ikea to buy furniture for his office. I settled on a red bookcase with glass doors and a three-drawer dresser for my closet. I still wonder if that’s not a bit extreme, but I can still think it over until the boxes get opened.

Contractors (04-02-10)

Today, two guys came to look under the house. Needless to say, they gave wildly different reports.

The first guy works for an outfit that installs fancy steel jack “spikes” 30 ft. into the ground, like one would see used for new Happy Valley houses built on the side of cliffs, -whatever-, and he looked horrified that this house had such a small crawlspace, as opposed to a new suburban-style foundation.

The other guy was moderate in his comments; in fact, he didn’t see much to do to the crawlspace (despite it being accessible to rodents, a few posts needing extra support, etc.); he indicated that the patio area was the problem, since rainwater pools near the back wall of the house.

Cleaned out the shed, etc. (03-29-10)

I am amazed by everything Gary and I did today.

While Gary took down all the ratty shelves inside the shed, found a rats' nest and killed a bunch of ants, Julia and I carried dozens of 2 x 4s and put them in the trailer. After that, we took a load of lumber to the recycling yard, then went to the dump.

Later, we picked up a huge red bookcase for the living room and, best of all, we met with the tax accountant.

And I forgot to mention that all this was done in POURING RAIN, and I also met with two tree guys for estimates...

Pretty Mosaic Glass Windows (03-28-10)

I went by Portico to pick up the windows that were on hold. They are absolutely beautiful, especially the one with flowers. I placed it over the front dining room window. The one with a sort-of metaphysical hand design on it will be in my closet.

Pretty Mosaic Glass Windows (03-27-10)

I went by Portico and saw some gorgeous mosaic glass windows on display and ask for three of them to be placed on hold. I need to think about this, because it’s a lot of money.

Chosing paint colors (03-26-10)

My day was spent opening the last boxes of kitchen stuff.

The color for the upstairs bathroom paint has been chosen (big, big step, since it takes me a long time to make up my mind). It's funny, but it basically is the same color of light teal green as we had in the staircase at the other house.

First Project: Tear Down of the Lean-to (03-22-10)

This is the first project we've undertaken: to repair the shed, the crumbling lean-to must first be removed...

Gary and Valérie at work

Cleanup (03-20-10)

One roll of towel paper, a big bottle of Scrub Free with Bleach, and a LOT of elbow grease to EXORCISE the upstairs bathroom of the very gross and filthy messes. It's amazing the grime that fluffy pictures and homey plaques can cover up...

The House in the 1980s (ca. 03-10)

When we moved in the house, we found an envelope the previous owner had left to our attention on the kitchen counter. Inside, some papers pertaining to the history of the Rupert house (the original owners), but also this photo of the house and the property in the 1980s. The rear part of the property has been sold off, including the small structure with a tree in front (demolished to build a house). We still have the large structure with a lean-to behind the house. The oak tree in front of the house is still there, as are the other trees in the photo.

Vintage Photo (03-19-10)

Here is a photo of the house ca. 1902 with the Joseph and Sarah Rupert family who were its first owners. The front porch, door and windows in the photo have been replaced by the fireplace chimney and side colonial-style windows. The diamond window is still where it was. The front entry of the house is now on the right side of the view in the photo. 

Wallpaper removal (ca. 03-10)

Flowery, over-the-top wallpaper in upstairs bathroom: GONE; frilly/foofy wallpaper in Gary's office-to-be: GONE (Many thanks to Valérie, Meghan and Julia).

Boxes (03-18-10)

We're surrounded by boxes all over...There aren't enough closets in this house! Aside from the small bedroom closets, there is one closet under the staircase, and one in the family room.

Back online (03-17-10)

BACK ONLINE AFTER 3 DAYS WITH NO INTERNET!!!

Moving in and moving out (03-13-10)

We moved today, with much help from friends and family. Thanks to all!

Doodle Study in Black and White (03-11-10)

An interesting exercise to get into my Creative Zone...

Moving in and working out (03-10-10)

The house is already full, but I'm moving more boxes over today.

Every time I walk by the fireplace in the living room, and see the hearth filled with a foot of the finest light powdery ashes, it makes me think of the box of ashes we found in the laundry room a few days ago. I now regret returning it; I think the yard would have been a great place to disperse them.

I decided to clean out the hearth. I swept the ashes up carefully and filled two paper grocery bags. I set aside a few small things that haven't burned all the way: part of the header to a legal document, a torn piece of photograph, a negative...

In the middle front of the fireplace, there is a spot of hardened glue. The previous owner ripped out a plaque that used to be glued there, one of her "Home Sweet Home" or "My Heart Belongs Here" like she had everywhere in the house.

Mysteries and unanswered questions abound. Why so many ashes? Why not dispose of one's private papers by shredding them the old-fashioned way? Why rip out a stupid plaque and leave the fireplace damaged? This is too weird.

Cleaning Out the Shed (03-09-10)

I thought that a good cleanup of the shed would make a world of difference. But a closer look reveals that all the shelving and ramshackle built-ins will have to go.

Junk! Out!

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Moving in and bugging out (03-09-10)

I take a truckload of garden plants and miscellaneous things over to the house with Julia. We take the black and white cat with us. He does not look very happy; he promptly finds a hiding place behind the furnace and refuses to come out. I leave the cat to his own devices to take Julia to school.

I then rush back to the house to meet the pest control guy. This guy whose pickup truck is embellished with violent cartoons suggesting mob-like dedication to the task, is all smiles. I tell him about hearing that there were big spiders around, and I think we may have carpenter ants in the shed... No worries. He's gonna take a look and tell me all about the problems. He does in fact spend a good amount of time in the crawlspaces under the house and under the shed. When he emerges, there is a look of concern on his face. There are bad news, indeed: the insulation is installed upside down and rats are nesting in it; there may be wood boring beetle damage; there is carpenter ant damage in the shed; and, not to frighten me in any way, there is an "amazing" amount of spider eggs under the house…and they will soon hatch, by the thousands. The cost for treatment may seem high, but bugs get throughout a house by crawling up the walls and wherever there is an opening, -such as a heat register-, there is a way for them to get in. All said with a greasy smile and assurances, his company's services are guaranteed to the tee. There will be spraying, dousing, drilling holes and fumi-gating. Total eradication, no more, no less.
I am not sure I can trust this guy.

Moving in and sweeping out (03-08-10)

Gary rents a bigger truck and we load it up. He decides to take the black and white cat with him for the trip. A couple of people from church come by to help along. Things get taken out of the rental house that shouldn't, such as food and pots and pans...

When Gary gets to the house, immediately runs upstairs to hide in the room that will become my closet and stays there the entire time.

I start cleaning the shed out. I see a what appears to be a large sinister spider by one of the windows and keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't pounce on me unexpectedly.

Sweeping takes me a couple of hours. There is so much crap in the shed, all I can do is dump everything out the door: old rusty tools, boxes of nails, floor tiles, pieces of lumber. A dumpy looking dresser with drawers has been nailed to the walls and is attached to a hollow core door supported by wobbly feet, meant to be used as a makeshift workshop space. I start removing the drawers and notice a very sizable amount of sawdust. I suspect there may be carpenter ants in there...

There are so many boxes, they get taken in anywhere in the house, willy-nilly. I never realized we had so much stuff... I am overwhelmed by how much we need to get rid of.

Moving in and cleaning out (03-07-10)

I take a carload of stuff over to the house by myself. I decide to get organized and to clean this grimy house from top to bottom before the bulk of our things get moved in. I decide to focus on the floors in the laundry room, but before even getting started, I get distracted by the hallucinatory checkerboard pattern in the laundry room closet and start ripping it out.

The seller's agent shows up at the door to pick up the seller's mother's ashes. She hands me the check for the seller's one day of rent and congratulates me for "making a great deal." I want to laugh at her; I only foresee problems ahead.

We make another trip with my car and Gary's truck in the evening. Gary gets there before I do ans tells me he saw the greenhouse taken away in one piece on a truck; all the garden pots are gone.

I bought a beautiful fragrant Daphne yesterday to plant at the new house; I am still on the lookout for a self-pollinating semi-dwarf cherry tree :)

"Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore"...Or Does She?.. (03-06-10)

Now that we're in our new home, Gary and I go about checking things out in the empty house, opening doors and drawers. The main part of the house is dusty, filthy even. The seller took the carpet runners off the stairs; something was ripped from the front of the fireplace mantel, leaving it damaged.

While I rummage around the part of the house (the family room) that had previously been used as a rental space, Gary calls me, his voice urgent. Her points to a shelf in the laundry room cupboard, where, next to a box of Miracle Grow, there is a white cardboard box. He tells me to read the printed label on top, bearing the name of a local crematorium. I open it to look inside. There is an open plastic bag filled with ashes. Looking at the label again, I realize that the seller has left her mother's ashes behind. In a cheap cardboard box. On a shelf. In the laundry room. Next to a box of fertilizer.

We call our agent, who laughs at the news of our discovery. The call he makes to the seller's agent gets an unusual response: put the ashes out in the yard and the handyman will pick them up tomorrow along with the garden stuff!

I am in shock. This is creeping me out. My heart sinks. Did we make a mistake? The accumulation of every aggravation we've experienced with the purchase of this house (which I haven't written about) is too much to bear. Gary says we'll make it work and stick it out for a couple of years and see how we feel about it then.

She's finally leaving! (03-06-10)

George, our agent calls to say that we may get the house after 5 PM (Yessss!!!) I don't know how he managed to pull this off, but the seller is finally moving out!

In the late afternoon, we load Gary's truck and take a load of stuff to our new house. George is waiting for us at the house; he gives us a bunch of keys, way more than we'd ever expect to need for this house. before leaving, George gives us a present: small figurines of a duck a bunny (totally like George to tease us like that)...

Delays...again! (03-05-10)

Guess what? We ARE the owners of record, but we don't have the keys AND the owner is not moving out!

We're supposed to get the keys and possession of the house at 5 PM. Her agent doesn't answer our agent's calls or messages.

She didn't want to move out by the date of closing and she has apparently decided to take her time as she pleases.

I am furious; Gary looks beat and sick.

We're Homeowners! (03-04-10)

I was teaching my adult art class in Hillsboro today when I got a phone call from the escrow agent letting me know that the transaction had been recorded. I felt mixed feelings at the news. The house is now ours. Yipeee. I am a bit apprehensive; the last few months have been extremely frustrating.

Gary is getting sick.

Almost there! (03-03-10)

WE SIGNED DOCUMENTS!!!

But we're not done yet. Now, we're negotiating the date when the seller will finally move out... And, would you believe? We managed to get her to agree to not rent back beyond March 5th!

More delays (03-02-10)

Delays...again. (And who said that I am not patient?)

Delays (02-25-10)

...More...setbacks...and...delays...(Snore).

My Old Kitchen (02-23-10)

Fun! My old kitchen was featured on "Hooked on Houses"!

Haiku: The Buyer's Lament (02-23-10)

A poem by Pascale Steig

House sold; moving on
Looking for a house
Alas: slim pickings.

Frantically looking
Days on end, reading the ads
Hoping for wonders

It's all said in code
Where "Lovingly Restored"
Means total mess-up

Mongrelization
Of styles, periods, and uses.
Sage green, brown and grey

The tiles, all the same
Gone the trims, the cabinets
Gone, the wood built-ins

The windows, vinyl
Gone, the charm, the history
The doors, hollow core.

Done in the name of
Updates, home improvement:
Obliteration

My heart beats faster
For two words: "Historic Charm"…
Perhaps this is it..?

Alas, alas, no.
With walls, leaning to the side,
The house is crooked.

It smells; well, it stinks
Unkempt, drafty, moldering
Unfit for humans.

The agent, he smiles;
If not this house, another...
...Or another yet.

Frustrations (02-20-10)

I am getting fed up with a certain real estate transaction... Our seller seems to be unpredictable and difficult to deal with.
The home buying process ought to be simple: one makes an offer and the offer is either 1.) accepted; 2.) countered; or 3.) rejected. There is no sorcery to this; unless it is our situation, of course :(

A Springtime Yeti-e (02-18-10)

This one's a tease...

Garden Gnome Wanted (02-18-10)

I want a swell garden gnome, like the one I saw at the Garden and Patio Show.

Yard and Garden Show (02-13-10)

I raced through the Garden and Patio Show today (there was too much to see and not enough time to do it). A lot of the displays were aimed at the new suburban markets: dull concrete patios with fire pits, stock shrubbery, run-of-the-mill fence designs...

I am tired of living among boxes in a rental house. I want a house of my own. I want a garden of my own.

Elton John/Billy Joel Concert at the Rose Quarter (02-10-10)

We went to see the Face to Face Elton John and Billy Joel concert at the Rose Quarter stadium. After hearing Gary play their music for the last 29 years, I wasn't overly enthusiastic about going; but this concert was so fabulous, I was won over by the great music and the performers' showmanship. Great time.

 

This is a view of the stadium from where we were sitting. The music was so loud, I was glad we weren't sitting any closer...but it sure looked like the people at the front of the stage were having a blast.

Some sketches of Elton John, Billy Joel, a few band members and screen backdrops.

 The sketches above are of the audience near us. I drew Christopher (top right middle), Valérie (second at lower right) and Monica-Sophie (edge of page on lower right).

I found the souvenir paper sign on the way out of the stadium, near a table where T-shirts and Polo shirts were respectively being sold for $40 and...$60! What a rip!

The Big Blue Dinosaur (02-10-10)

When my daughter Valérie (21) was about three years old, she once ran from the front of the house to the kitchen and breathtakingly told me about a Big blue Dinosaur that was eating little children (!). I took notes as she urgently described what the creature was doing outside of the house, and the Big blue Dinosaur soon became the stuff of our family legends...


Anyway, here is the Big blue Dinosaur, as I drew him for fun in my sketchbook.

"He was a Big Blue One"

Haunted-Looking House in the Old Neighborhood (ca. 03-09)

The Estate Sale over, it sat empty and forlorn, like a cursed, silent sentinel recalling terrible things passed.

The house came on the market two months after we bought our house in 1994. On a sunny afternoon, I went down the street to take a closer look at the house. I tried to peek in through the back windows, to see how it compared to our rambling fixer. Priced at $20,000 more, it was a clearly nicer house: cedar shake siding, boxed-beam ceilings, two staircases... A couple bought the house shortly thereafter.

Over the course of the following year or two, they embarked on a grand-scale remodeling project. Money was apparently no object. The roof was removed down to the attic floor, the siding was replaced after an earthquake-proof retro-fit of the outside walls, the attic walls were raised 3 ft., then the roof was rebuilt. Everyone in the neighborhood had an opinion about the project: they were either daring pioneers updating an old beat-up house in dire need of attention, or wild-eyed heretics bent on damaging a classic neighborhood landmark.

One day, when curiosity finally won over me, I knocked on the door and introduced myself. The wife, D., seemed pretty nice. She invited me in and offered to give me a tour of the house. I admired the curtains D. made out of brightly colored translucent silk to cover the small living room windows; but without a fireplace (removed to expand the back of the house), the space was now just like a large entryway. The dark stained furniture was Asian and Far Eastern; candles, statuettes and figurines were set on low tables and on shelves. D. told me of her plans to paint over the Pepto-Bismol Pink walls in the dining room, which clashed with the inviting cushions on a couch against the wall. I wished my house also came with glass chandeliers adorned with crystals. D. showed me the kitchen next. Even though it was spacious and one of the nicest new kitchens I'd ever seen at the time, it didn't fit with the Arts and Crafts details in the house. Her husband, J. had removed the service staircase; the back of the living room had been merged into an eating space and two columns were awkwardly merged into a wall. Still, I couldn't help comparing it to the orange Formica eyesore-of-a-kitchen in my own house. I felt envious. Right off the kitchen, French doors opened to a peaceful private yard fenced with tall bamboo. Back inside, D. led me to a wide, airy staircase going up to the upper floors. The rooms upstairs were spacious; the bathroom was old-fashioned and lovely, with a great clawfoot tub; there was ample storage space in a linen cabinet nearby. On the third floor, the attic had been transformed into a Master Suite/Palace with skylights, luxurious-feeling carpeting, a balcony at the back, and an amazing bathroom with expensive fittings; beautiful tiles covered the floor and walls. I wondered why I'd ended up with my ugly house, while these people had been fortunate to end up with a house I would have loved as it was before its unnecessary remodel, Craftsman detail et all.

I disliked D.'s husband J. as soon as as I met him: here was the driving force behind the dismantling of some of the things that had made this house great from the start. J., when asked, said they had moved from Northern California, and was vague about his occupation: he was, he said, and entrepreneur. Looking around at the messed-up living room, I thought that meant "Nouveau Riche." J. was clearly proud of his work on the house. To remove the chimney, he had instructed his stepson to go down to the basement and hammer away at the chimney's base with a mallet until the chimney came unraveling down the walls! J. then bragged that he would sell the house for over $300,000 in a few years' time (this, after buying it for a mere $160,000), and then he would buy himself five acres to raise sheep. What a jerk, I thought. He had messed up a perfectly great house.

As the years went by, and even though we lived down a block around the corner, I lost sight of D. and J. Although two of our children were the same age as theirs, we just ran in different circles. But I shook my head in disgust every time I drove up the street and saw the large 80s style round window looming at the top of the stairwell; it was like an open, unblinking eye. And like the rood over the side porch entrance, it was ostentatious...but, I had to admit, it somehow fit. Perched on top of a small earthen berm, the house, with its steep roof and tall trees nearby was grand.

Time went on. I rarely saw any activity near the house, only dim lights on the inside. The ubiquitous Tibetan prayer flags were frayed from flapping in the winter winds and faded from the hard summer sun. The concrete walls supporting the property were leaning a bit more each year; moss covered the slowly crumbling porch stairs.

Then, one day, I saw a sign advertising an Estate Sale on the sidewalk in front. I went down to the house, wondering if the owners were perhaps moving.

The house was full of people looking for a bargain. But what immediately caught my attention were the dirty, worn floors, and the grime all over. The kitchen in disarray; cabinet doors were torn off the hinges; granite counters were broken and chipped. The yard, - the once peaceful Asian bamboo-fenced refuge -, was overgrown with weeds, its small altar askew, the steps off the porch broken. The moldy smelling basement suggested long-term problems. As for the items for sale, they suggested misery, catastrophic events, or a hasty departure: a few pieces of prohibitively priced import furniture, a collection of old Grateful Dead CDs, half-burnt incense sticks, worn, faded cushions, rusty paint cans, unidentifiable tools, a few cans of food, half empty bags of cereals, mismatched cups and plates, and scraggly potted plants sitting here and there...

What had happened? Where was D.? Was this a moving sale, I asked the weary-looking man minding the cash box set on a card table. Looking away, he reluctantly gave me the shocking news: the owner, J., had recently passed away, and D. had herself had passed away from cancer several years before...

A sketch of Marty Feldman (02-03-10)

Recently, it seems that everyone on Facebook has been posting celebrity look-alike photos as profile pictures. I wanted to do something different, so rather than putting up a photo found on the web, I decided to draw my own profile image... This drawing was inspired by a shot of Marty Feldman in his role as Igor ("eye-gore") in "Young Frankenstein" (1974).

TV: "Lost": Last Season Premiere (02-02-10)

We've been without a television since the beginning of November, so we watched the much-anticipated Lost season opener at the house of some friends of ours (delicious brownies).

Like every time I've watched Lost, I didn't understand anything to what was happening. (In a nutshell: Locke isn't really himself, 'cause he's dead; Jacob is God-like but gets killed nevertheless; Sayid dies but -just kiddin'- he wasn't really dead after-all; various alternate reality situations run parallel to each other, etc.)

I did these drawings in my sketchbooks during the show.

I wanna move! (01-30-10)

I am having a bad case of (rental) cabin fever. At least, the rental house has great water pressure and the water is really hot.

Some good news...and some not so good (01-21-10)

The sewer scope was done today. Good news: The sewer line is okay.

We're still at the stage of negotiating repairs. Negotiations still underway...(since December). ...Still negotiating... (this has got to be the longest process ever to buy a house!)

We found a house...I think (01-19-10)

This is the house we may be buying. We just had a home inspection yesterday. The thing that really freaks me out, though (aside from the many repairs necessary), is that there are hobo spiders...

House Inspection (01-18-10)

The house sale is "pending" (we are the buyers).

The home inspection was today (and it was scaryyyyy)...

Faces at Church (01-17-10)

You might wonder why there are so many entries about Church... I simply find people at Church to be an unending source of material for quick sketches.

Some familiar faces

Portrait: Moso (01-16-10)

A quick sketch of Moso, that doesn't totally look like her...

Moso?

All these efforts for nothing...so far (01-14-10)

So far, we made FIVE offers and several counter-offers on various houses...with no satisfactory results.

Mary G. (01-11-10)

This is my friend, Mary G., whose pale ethereal beauty brings to mind a mermaid or a fairy (a "fée" in French).