Chez Sleepy

Since the "no knitting" until my hands recover pledge, I've settled into a pleasant routine of reading in the evening. The cats appreciate that I'm not dangling yarn in their whiskers and they often join me. Then I fall asleep. That's right. I'm asleep by 8 in the evening some days. I never realized that knitting was a stimulant, that it kept me awake and engaged. I do know that I sometimes cannot fall asleep because I'm thinking about a pattern or a yarn or what I'll knit next. 

The paint color scheme for the living areas in my house has been troubling me too since I'm nearly finished with wall paper removal in the dining room. I fussed and made a half-hearted attempt to find a color-wheel so I could examine colors and see which ones would be most companionable. I got a decorating book instead, which makes basic suggestions, and has a small picture of color wheel in the introduction. I also realized that compared to getting the layers of paint and wallpaper off of the walls, having the dry wall contractor make repairs, and prepping the trim, the actual painting will be very easy and inexpensive. If I really don't like a color, I can paint it again.

The eureka moment arrived with the Pottery Barn catalog. One of the rugs has reds, blues, yellows, and greens. Those were the colors I wanted and finding the right shades was the challenge. So now, I'm going to use that rug as my palette. I probably won't buy the rug, but I am certainly happy to have picture of it.

An Orderly Home

Once upon a time, I lived in a very normal home. The rugs needed to be vacuumed and the dishes had to be washed. Life was somewhat shabby and perhaps a little dull. I preferred to think of it as "shabby chic." And then one day, I tugged on some loose wallpaper.

For much of December, I've been peeling wallpaper from the dining room walls. It is a slow process. The wallpaper needs to be soaked with water to soften the paste, gently scraped with a putty knife, the walls washed and patched. The house was built in the late 30s and appears to have all of the wallpaper and paint that accumulated over the intervening years. The picture is one of the layers of wallpaper. I wish I knew more about the people who lived here. What did they like to do? What did they think about the house? Were they happy? 

I enjoy this place, and I feel more confident as I make it mine. An astute person pointed out that redecorating a house after a big life event is an apt metaphor for remaking one's life. I hadn't thought about it that deeply. I just went with my instincts and dug in. I think they were right. The organic process and the adventures unfold along the way to completion. I wish it were just a little more orderly or even predictable. I'm trying to laugh at the surprises.

This evening, a friend offered to help remove a fixture that I couldn't unscrew from

 the wall. While I was fetching a screw driver from the kitchen, I heard laughing. Apparently, he just used his hands. Most of the wall also came off with the fixture. He looked really proud of himself although he tried to look sheepish for the photograph. I've heard that cats are big fans of visible damage. I think the same may apply to men. Being both male and kitten, Oscar was awestruck. Norah had the good sense to hide.

The good news is that he discovered a nook between the kitchen and the living room that is the size of a closet. Perfect, perhaps, for a built-in bookcase. When I think of built-in bookcases, I get weak in the knees and swoon. Over the past year, I've become acquainted with tilers, plumbers, electricians, handy women and dry wall installers. Why not meet a good carpenter for bookcase building?

Oh yes, I do look forward to a time when I have an orderly and boring home. I will knit and read and surf the internet. The colors and fabrics and style of my house will become outdated. I will be unfazed. I will garden and go on vacation and host parties. I will understand that inner peace does not come from redecorating however wonderful the metaphor might be.

Bye-bye Green

The green paint from the dining room is almost entirely gone. There are only a few little bits along the baseboards and the windows that need to be removed. It was surprisingly easy to pull the old wall paper and paint off of the walls. My father recommended that I fill up a sprayer with warm water, find a good tv show, and mist the walls on every commercial break for an hour before starting to remove the wall paper. It worked so well. I should listen to Dad more often.

The wall preparation and removing the texture from the ceiling will keep the me very busy for awhile. Looking at the brown of ancient sheet rock that is offset by the creamy-colored joint compound raised the question of what color the room should be. The late 90s hunter green doesn't seem right anymore, but I liked the way it was the complementary color of the red entry way. Between the entry way and the dining room is are very neutral beige living room walls. The couch is slate blue and probably the only upholstered item that I'm committed to keeping unchanged. I see my future. It is me surrounded by paint chips and muttering about color combinations. It frightens me. 

The green roving that I've been spinning for a very long time is finished. To my way of thinking, everything is practice. This project has amounted to only practice. Projects that are practice and end up being useful or liked are the best scenario. These finished products aren't things that I like, but I know so much more about dying roving and spinning yarn that I did at the outset. The names for the colorway varied from Kermit in a Blender to OMG, You Didn't or, on a particularly vexing day, Holy Fuck It Is Green.

I knitted a really rough looking scarf and still had about half of the yarn left. Then I gave the scarf to Mom, who was extremely polite about it, but it was a cool day and she was glad to have it. She was really surprised by how warm it was. Ugly can still be warm. Finally I told her my plans for the scarf had been the trash can. She looked so relieved. As for the yarn, I'm not sure what will happen with it. Maybe it will be good for tying tomato plants to stakes next summer. 

In the meantime, I'm trying to decide what color the next batch of BFL superwash will be. Purples, blues, reds? Brown, blue, pink? Whatever it is, one pound is way too much for one Sally to spin in the same color. Four ounces sounds like a very manageable amount. Maybe I'll try out the painting color schemes with the roving.

Winter Popcorn

It is cold and dreary and darker than usual today. To cheer myself up, I stopped by the Indian Hills Ace Hardware store and purchased an Atom Pop popcorn popper. One of my favorite meals is a bowl of popcorn and a glass of milk. The Atom Pop is my Dad's favorite popcorn maker. I have to agree. It has more flavor than the microwave popcorn, more grease than an air popper and the steaming pan warms the air in the kitchen. 

The real reason for my trip to the hardware store was for a spray bottle. The years and years of wallpaper and paint on my dining room walls had begun to come lose. I've been walking past the same barely attached piece of wallpaper for five years and resisting the urge to pull on it. Last night, I had to do it. I tugged and the piece came free. The paper surrounding it stayed tight to the wall. I can tell that the future holds much spritzing and scraping before I will be able to repaint. Further examination reveals that there aren't clear stopping points between the living room, dining room, hallway and entry way. Those rooms have arches between them, but no trim work that would be an obvious place to stop wallpaper removal. 

Last but not least, an interesting group moved into a small shopping center near my house. They call themselves the Kalpa Bhadra Kadampa Buddhist Center, and they offer meditation classes. I'm intrigued. I'm also feeling shy. One of these days though, I'm going to wander down there and meditate with them. It's been years since I sat with the Zen group, but I'm feeling the tug toward quietness.