A bartered beam for my kitchen, chicken wings, blueberry crisp with clotted cream, and making another 18thc. petticoat~

 I have just gotten some heavy oatmeal color linen to make an 18thc. petticoat. This will be for day or 'camp' wear, and I plan to wear it with my brown print jacket, shown in these photos. I have a few other items I can wear it with as well. I just needed a nice, serviceable petticoat in a solid neutral color.
I may start it tomorrow, but I also want to get the house and especially the kitchen cleaned since the new wide board floors are done, and I haven't even been able to use the kitchen much, or appreciate the floors yet. Of course, they'll look better in a few months when they show more "beat up wear".
We plan to take new photos of some of the rooms of our house for the TOUR page of our website and get them up in September.

The new oatmeal linen petticoat I am making will look great with this simple jacket with it's natural Dutch linen ties in front.

Today I got all my inventory antiques home and back up into the attic. I am no longer in the group shop in Maine. Despite the wonderful period house location, it is in a rather quiet out-of-the-way town that doesn't get a lot of traffic.
I had my own shop for 10 years, and honestly have sold much more on our website since we've had it, so that is what I am going to continue to do. I had enough of a shop when I had my own, and the website is much more convenient and attracts the customers looking for the kind of antiques I sell. (When I had a shop, I wish I had a nickle for everyone who came in asking for "depression glass" and "beanie babies"!)
Specializing in early, New England, "real" antiques, it's nice to have people who find the website and contact me, genuinely interested in those things. It was a lot of work to haul all that stuff into the van, drive home and haul it all out and up into the attic again---reminds me of when I used to do all the big antique shows for years...alone, and with almost all big furniture!

The neighbors across the street are having work done by a man who salvages very old houses here in New Hampshire---one of those loveable and independent 'Yankees'. I made a deal with him after moseying over there to see his efforts building a charming primitive little farm shop in their yard for them.
He has some old hand hewn beams that are only an inch or 2 thick, and I bartered with him---I am selling a few of his antique finds for him, and he is giving me a beam for my low, saltbox shaped kitchen ceiling. I hope he brings it over soon---I can't wait to screw it up there and see how nice it looks!

I got some long put off ironing done and made a dinner that is sure to thrill Adam. I made a honey BBQ sauce and poured it over chicken wings and will bake them. They come out nice and "crusty/barbequed" on the outside and juicy on the inside, and Adam lives for this stuff, which we don't have often. The farm stand down the road has the last blast of fresh sweet corn, so I got a few ears to have with it.

For dessert I have fresh blueberry crisp (my recipe is in a past post) baking in the oven right now, using the blueberries we picked, and it smells divine. I am making a simple and easy but yummy 'clotted cream' that my friend makes at her tea house, to serve over it---Just combine soft cream cheese, sour cream, some sugar---and a tiny hint of vanilla.

After a chilly night, it's a gorgeous sunny day here, low humidity, and those crickets chirping outside nonstop. I cut some lazy susans from the yard and put them on my old table in an old pewter pitcher...

I finished making the Jacobean print bed curtains for our 1686 tester bed. I had one more panel to go because I bought the fabric as inexpensive remnants online, and had to wait for a last 2 yard piece to come up for sale. They are finished, and look amazing! I'll have photos on the TOUR page of our website next month...

Summertime...or, "the Booyah kids and pizza night at the lake"~

Our 'kids'!

Sunday was one long day, and a great one because we got a lot done---including finishing the wide board floors we recently laid in the kitchen! Bryan came and sanded them, and after he left I put on my knee pads and put a nice warm stain on them just to give them a hint of color. Because they have no other finish they will wear, age, and darken here and there naturally, and show flaws, which is exactly what I want in my over-230 year old house.
(ALL NEW photos of our kitchen, and other rooms will be up on our countryladyantiques.com website TOUR page in September).

For one month, my appliances were sitting in the dining room and the water was turned off in the kitchen. What a drag---and a VERY long month!
Adam worked all day Sunday replacing a water-rotted window sill on the outside of the house while I was concentrating on the floor. It took the entire day, but he did a fantastic job, and it feels good to have that worrisome problem taken care of.
Because the stain needed time to dry, we couldn't move even the stove back into the kitchen, so we had planned to take the tandem bike and the Booyah brand dog bike trailer down to the lake for pizza. (We had planned to do this several weeks ago, and it rained, so we put the money aside knowing we'd want to do it another night).
We were tired and dirty, but after quick showers we got our second wind.  I guess we're pretty silly when it comes to our yorkie girls---we even got then tee shirts with 'BOOYAH' and their names on them to wear for our bike rides. I am sure some out there think we're kooky, but those little dogs are our 'kids'.
They love the 'Booyah' trailer we bought this summer and go into paroxysms of excitement when we even mention the word, or when they see the tees come out!
So on Sunday evening we finally had our well-deserved outing. The English family has has a little concession building at the lake for several generations, and they make the absolute best pizzas. They close up on Labor day, not to open again until the next summer, so we knew this was our last chance to go for the year. We were not disappointed.
We rode the 4 or 5 miles one way to the lake, and sat at their umbrella tables overlooking the peaceful lake while we ate fantastic individual pizzas and sipped cherry slushees.
After dinner, we walked along the shore, and I waded into the warm water, the sand feeling delicious between my toes---like a foot massage!
While Sasha is content to sit in her 'pouch' on Adam's or my chest, Del is far more adventurous, and would actually run wildly back and forth from Adam to the shoreline and into the water to my waiting arms, as I praised her effusively.
We really did have the time of our lives. Sometimes it's just the simplest little pleasures that make a summer or anytime memorable...

...Oh, and more good news; when we got home Adam moved my dishwasher back into the kitchen and hooked it up. We moved the rest of the appliances back last night. HUZZAH!!!
On Sunday night, I went to sleep the the sound of the dishwasher humming away, full of the latest load of dirty dishes, and I was smiling---SO nice not to have to do probably my hundredth load by hand in the tub!

Here are photos we took the other evening at our family pizza night out.
What a great time we had...

"Lets GO!"

Arriving at the lake we put our helmets and gloves in the bike pack, and got out the dog's front pack carriers~

The Englishs' little concession stand---A fixture at the lake for several generations~

Yikes~My knees were swollen and stained and still hurting from the project that afternoon...crawling around on the floors and staining.

Oh yum! I chose fresh tomato, garlic, and bacon pizza...

Yeah, I had a cherry shlushee

...Adam chose BBQ Chicken pizza

"I'm learning to swim in the big lake!"

"Time to head for home, guys"

A Yankee "New England war council", and "Mary's meadow"~

I live in a part of New England, that to paraphrase Tasha Tudor, lies east of New Hampshire and west of Maine. There are still a few "old timers" here, and some of them are young, that embody the old classic Yankee ways and spirit.
Their accents are thick, their clothing 'LL Bean hunting attire, circa "nineteen fawty eight"',  and they are never in a hurry. They will chat you up, regale you with tales of days gone by, and while talking to you in your yard, a pickup truck may happen by, and a man will hang out the window to say to our aforementioned New England friend whom he spots in your yard, "Say, is Stewie Sears (look in the mirror and say 'STEWIE SEE-YUHS', for full effect), still loggin' around heah?"

Today, we had what Adam laughingly called the "New England war council" out front. We have a massive, ugly, old, and leaning pine tree in the front side yard, next to the drive. The electric wires that run from our house to the main line along the road lay in and on it's massive branches, and it's roots are pulling out of the ground. Despite this the do-nothings at the power company pass the buck and won't take it down. They say it is fine, and some people do actually like it, but we had other plans for that bit of sideyard.
So the stage is set. We called our friend and neighbor Sean, who originally from Massachusetts moved here many years ago. I have known him since practically the day I moved in. Sean cuts firewood, among many other things, and knows everybody 'in these parts'.  We are desperate to have this behemoth taken down, and certainly don't have $1500. to $2000. The tree is about 3 feet in diameter, at least 50 feet tall, and must be good wood for someone.  Sean came over with his grown son, and thus began part one of the war council---You stand in the yard and chat. And mull. And chat. And mull some more. After a time Sean mentions "Connie", (short for the equally unlikely name of 'Condin'), who is a "climber" and may be able to "drop that tree" with his help, his son, his friend, and whatever Adam can do. (I offered to feed everyone and anyone who would help us make this monster tree go away for a relatively low fee...)

True to his word, later this afternoon 2 pickup trucks arrived and Sean and his son had come back with Connie and Connie's friend. Now Connie---(some pronounce it "Cawnie" here), is one of those 'old Yankee guys' I was referring to---As if he just stepped out of a Tim Sample video. So Adam and the 4 men stood outside under the huge and leaning tree, rubbing their jaws and talking and mulling, mulling and talking. There were blow by blow ideas of what to do and how to do it, along with remarks about the "damn lazy asses" at the 'powah comp'ny', and Connie saying "I got ta go home and considah this, but if I do it, you just call them PSNH boys and tell them to get out heah and drop them lines, cuz this tree is commin' down, or they can just come late-ah and replace em all!!" 
 (Here, here! You go Connie! I couldn't agree more! I too have had it with those idiots.)

More talk about the power company, where the tree might fall,  Sean's poor lost dog Malcolm, and "did ya hear about so and so..."---A 'New England war council'. You see, here it's about neighbors helping neighbors, and having the time to stand around and chat on a summer's day as fine as they come. There is some indescribable something about the old Yankees in these parts that is as unique and timeless as it is endearing and comforting. It is something I will greatly miss if I have to move to a different part of New England...

Now we wait. We patiently wait to see if Connie is willing to take down the old tree for a modest sum of "cash money", camaraderie, and  a good lunch---maybe with a homemade pie, thrown into the bargain? All I can do for now is to hope and dream about the plans Adam and I made for the sideyard, IF we got rid of the tree---A plan Adam call's "Mary's meadow". The long, gnarled tree roots run along the ground and out from the tree for 10 and 12 feet, and at least a few inches above the ground level, and no real grass grows there, only soft mosses. We decided to bring in a couple dumptrucks of poor soil to cover them and the huge stump that will be left, and level off the bumpy ground. We had then hoped to put down MEADOWMATS, but they are only sold in the UK!  We'll have to resort to a plan B---researching and planting our own small meadow in this front side yard, of long native grasses and wildflowers. (Meadows must be planted in poor, under-nourished soil).
We then plan to fence in our miniature meadow with zig zag split rail fencing ourselves. (We can go way up north to Colebrook and bring home the rails and posts, grown and cut in New Hampshire. We found a great company, and the prices are only $1. a foot.)
So that's the big dream---the vision in my head---We'll have to see if our mercurial Yankee friends can and will help us out with this one...and think and mull and plan.

The dream for our small front sideyard~IF Connie and friends take down "big nasty"!

In the meantime, here is one of Tim Sample's hysterical videos---and as usual, he hits the nail on the head with his teasing but affectionate and oh-so-true look at our 'old New England' neighbors~ So do yourself a favor---Turn up your volume, sit back, and watch the whole thing...
and enjoy!

Journeys~

There was a light soft rain in the pre dawn, and I heard it while half asleep. The sound lulled me back to sound sleep for a couple more hours. When I got up and went out I smiled. This is one of those rare days that you only see in late summer. The colors seem clearer and deeper, the contrast between sun and shade much more intense. the air was so fresh and clean and cool. These are the days you hear crickets chirping all day long, and the flowers of late summer are bright among the drying stalks of earlier bloomers. Big clumps of cheerful bright golden lazy susans bloom in riotous profusion against one of our stone walls, and more up against the front of our 235 year old house.
I love this day, and this oh-so-short time of year here in New Hampshire.
The sun slants differently, and pours through the wavy panes of glass and onto ancient pumpkin pine floors differently than it does any other time of the year.
I try hard not to think of the grey, cold, and seemingly endless New England winter that will come after a short and exquisite fall...Thoughts of not being able to afford heating oil are pushed aside this day.

We have come to one decision; Adam is now looking for jobs back in his field in Massachusetts and Connecticut. (Honestly, he'd love to be an ex pat, and move to the UK---If only we knew someone there who needed a good art director/graphic designer in the publishing field or other!)
We have tried as hard as we could and endured the unendurable here since the job loss now almost 4 years ago. It is almost unimaginable to think of possibly leaving this perfect little house that has been my labor of love, my sacrifice, my healing, my joy...my life for 15 years. We'll have to see what happens, but if it is in the stars that we leave this place, I'll have to deal with those emotions another day---not on this sunny, perfect one, as I look at my beloved little cape sitting at the base of the hill rising up behind her, surrounding her in warm and dappled light coming through the canopy of maple trees.
I look at all the lovingly made wattle fences, twig arbors, and the stone wall we so laboriously built. I see the plants I planted a few at a time for many years...Somehow I must and will find a way to see all of what may lie ahead as a new and exciting adventure.

That spoiled and insensitive ex-friend K. that I spoke of in a post last winter recently finally got her wish and moved from Wisconsin to Connecticut. (She is a 40 year old who never worked, gets everything handed to her, or else she has a screaming fit,  and has a spoiled brat sense of entitlement that is extremely offensive.) 
We saw photos of the house they bought online---one that although is obviously big and pricey, is nothing I would ever want in a million years. It is a large 2 story Georgian, and just does not have the the early feel or the charm of my cape, nor does the area have the "old New England feel" of this corner of New Hampshire, and our little village. It's fireplaces, trims, etc. although 18thc., look much later than my own home, and are not at all my taste. There are no lovely, original mellow hand hewn ceiling beams or headers in any room---a feature of my own house that we dearly love, and that contributes to it's very early look. The stone wall in front of her home is contrived and squared off to within an inch of it's life, with none of the old feel of most New England walls. The kitchen is an ultra new, modern ugly thing tacked onto the house and has Victorian looking glass upper cabinets and a cathedral ceiling.
(I confess that after the shabby way this person has treated me, it was nice to feel a bit of satisfaction; "Ugh, I wouldn't buy that house no matter what.')

I know one thing; If we go, we'll be searching for another very early small cape, and I am sure I will find it too---I am patient and persistent, and I do not, and will not compromise on the type of little house I want.

The thought of doing more work to make another home as lovely, perfect, and as just-what-I-wanted as this one is does not scare or intimidate me at all.
I would want this house to sell to someone who loves it and appreciates it as much as I do---It's not just about the money for me...
I don't know yet what it in store for us; what is meant to be will be. In the meantime, I will keep doing my projects here---for now, we live in this house, and cherish it. Everything I have done to it has been done with love, and with the very best I could manage to salvage and afford, and that will continue to be so.

For now, the late summer day's rays of golden sunshine stream over the ancient and mellow pine floors. The crickets chirp in the grass just outside my bedroom window, and the old and venerable furnishings I have collected over a lifetime sit in their setting as if they belong indeed. They are like silent old friends in a home that has been my own comfort and joy since I came here alone with only a heart full of hope and a willingness to work my fingers to the bone all those years ago.
Green vines and wild native plants grow over Phoebe's little grave---My little miniature schnauzer came here with me, and was "my partner on the big adventure" until the angels of all good dogs took her in 2010. She is buried on the property.
For now, this house is still mine; A testament to hope and to true grit. Her stories are now my stories, and wherever fate takes me, those stories will live in my memory forever.

A photo taken in my yard this morning~

"The Battle of the Asphalt", aka "The Battle of Hotel Parking Lot"~

The reenactment last Saturday was not a usual reenactment event---It was more of a paid 'gig' for our unit and 3 others specially selected. The Lexington Minutemen (a group that Adam is a member of and whom are all dear friends), were contacted by the International Porsche Car Club, and engaged as the historical entertainment at their 'East Coast Holiday' convention in Massachusetts last weekend. The Danvers militia were invited to join them as additional patriots, and two Brit units, The 10th, and ours, the 4th, to oppose them in a mini-recreation of the Battle of Lexington for the car group members---The finale of their Saturday event.
Dozens and dozens of Porsche owners and their much-prized and blingy cars from all over were in attendance, even member Jerry Seinfeld. Everyone was most impressed with us, and they took innumerable photos the entire day!

The event was to have been on the bucolic and beautiful fields of a farm in eastern Massachusetts, but the day was overcast with threat of showers so at 7 in the morning, the club opted to move the event to a covered parking facility at a luxury hotel near Topsfield/Danvers. Although the location was extremely lacking in ambiance, the day was a hit because the club members were long on enthusiasm and compliments, and really appreciated all the reenactors.
Adam jokingly dubbed the afternoon skirmish the "battle of the asphalt", as it took place in the hotel parking lot instead of on a green or field! No one seemed to care, as the Porsche owners hung over the lot balcony snapping photos for all they were worth, with some even running after the firing soldiers to get the "perfect shot".
Several members from each reenactment group showed up for the day, including about 8 or 10 ladies, and I was followed around by several small knots of club members who took photos of me doing everything from strolling past the cars to stuffing strawberries in my mouth! Of course our clothing, especially the women's was of keen interest to them, and they seemed not to be able to get enough of us!

We participated in this event because it meant money for our own reenactment unit, the 4th of Foot. They use funds from special appearances like these to pay for an end-of-the-year banquet for members, a new dining fly for the unit, red ostrich feathers for the men's hats, and the like.

It never did rain, and we had a great time with our mates and new friends. Late in the day members from the 4 participating units gathered in the hotel bar for a drink. We sat at a large table and laughed and told stories. We left about 4, tired but happy after a long day. We only live an hour and a half at the most from Ipswich, but instead of going out for clams afterwards as we had originally planned, Adam and I decided to go home to our patient yorkies, get take-out lobster rolls, and go to Ipswich for clams in September, making a day of it and going antiquing---Another adventure to look forward to!

Getting ready to go Saturday morning~

Our "nooning" at the event was great~I brought cold roast chicken, crusty bread, cheeses, fresh strawberries, homemade blueberry cake, and iced tea~

It was great to see the members of our unit as well as old friends we had not seen all summer...

Each unit had a musket drill before the battle and they attracted a lot of fascinated attention from everyone at the event~

Patriots and brits alike formed up to drill...

At last...THE "BATTLE OF ASPHALT"!!!

"Walk this way"????

 

Chris, an actual 'Brit', and the commander of our unit, and Adam~

Hey, smiley---What are you lookin' at? Yeah, mom and dad are home!