Returning home

The polar vortex that held much of the country in its grips this week clamped down upon us as well, ultimately forcing us to seek refuge at a Holiday Inn about half an hour away.  It was truly a series of unfortunate events (apologies to Lemony Snicket).

On Christmas Day, I noticed smoke billowing from the upper section of stove pipe, leading us to cease using our beloved wood stove.  It was unnerving to have smoke pouring into the house and unpleasant having the smell linger, but after a few days and some fresh air, it cleared out.  Luckily, it was not terribly cold at that point, and we managed just fine with out heat pump/furnace back-up system. When our local wood stove expert returned from holiday, he scheduled and appointment to come out to diagnose and fix the stove on January 10th.  We were disappointed at having to wait but resolved to be patient until he could get here. 

However, in the meantime, the polar vortex was descending from the arctic.  Once the freezing rain and snow that preceded the sub-zero temps hit our area, things took a turn for the worse.  I awoke on Monday morning to a very cold house.  Our heat pump/furnace had gone out in the night.  We attempted to use the wood stove again to get some heat into the frigid place, but there was intense wind and down drafting occurred, filling the house with smoke and setting off the alarm.  Not long after that failed attempt, we discovered the pipes had frozen.   

At this point, I was becoming afraid.  It was -6 degrees outside.  We had no heat and no running water.  We live half an hour from town on curvy, hilly roads, which were covered with a sheet of ice and layers of snow.  When we later called repair people to come out and look at our heat pump, they were afraid to drive out to our house due to the possibility of getting stuck or running off the road.  Luckily, we still had electricity and a couple of space heaters to create some warmth, which we began using in the office and guest room, setting up a warming zone for our cats, with plenty of food, clean litter, and water.  

Reluctantly leaving the cats behind, we loaded up our Prius and taking Sadie, our dog, we headed into town for a couple of days until heat was restored in the house.  With a front-wheel drive car and slow, careful driving, we were able to make it 5 miles to the main road, which was in decent shape.  A day later, the heat pump was repaired, and luckily, the pipes thawed overnight simply from heat running through the duct work.  Yesterday, the person who installed the wood stove came out to clean the stove and figure out why we experienced poor drafting.  He is still unsure what happened exactly, but it seems to be back in proper working order.

I have never been scared before when an intense weather event arose.  I love thunder storms and snow storms.  I do not fear tornadoes, and was not afraid the one time when we had a derecho (inland hurricane) a few years ago.  This feeling was something new for me.  I think it was the fact that this cold was truly dangerous.  Unexposed skin would freeze in just a few seconds.  And our back-up systems had failed.  We thought we'd been prepared and were in control.  Even with proper planning, things can go awry, and we realize how vulnerable we are to forces beyond our control.

Now we are safely back at home.  We all survived our week's adventures, and while I love waking to sweeping views of forested hillsides, I will be a little less cavalier about the potential dangers of country living.  

Today it feels like spring outside, with temperatures in the low fifties.  The snow and cold are completely gone.  I awoke with gratitude for being back at home with everything working properly.

I hope your adventures have been safer and a little more calm, and I hope the new year is getting off to a good start.  

Until next time...

Anne

Winter morning

 Peace on earth.  

That is what recent snows brought to the landscape outside my windows-- a deep peace, one that lingers within me even now as I look at these photos while sitting at my desk at work, miles from my cottage in the woods.

Early morning sunlight has painted a tender blush upon the sky. 

Two ancient box elder trees stand like guardians at the western edge of the property, remnants of the old farmstead that once occupied the land where my house sits now.

With this view accompanying my morning cup of coffee each day, I awaken feeling very blessed.  With each sip, my thoughts invariable drift upward toward the vast sky.

These images were taken the other morning through a window in my "great" room, looking off to the south and west.  With the loss of summer leaf cover, so much more is visible, like the neighbors' house across the field and stream, the barns dotting the hills and valley, and the contours of the landscape itself.  The spareness of winter brings its own type of beauty, albeit an austere one.  It appeals to the latent minimalist in me.

Wishing moments of deep peace to you as well.  In the hustle and bustle of a busy holiday season, it seems we need this even more.

Until next time...

Anne

An unexpected gift

A winter storm, fierce and forboding, descends upon the land

We brace ourselves for the squeeze of its icy fingers

A fire blazes inside to ward off the chill, seeping through the windows, 

rushing in through the opening door, 

as the puppy bounds outside in wonder at the newness of it all.

Stillness settles in.

 Snow flakes gently fold themselves into one another, 

a pillow of softness for weary souls

The earth heaves a sigh and snuggles beneath the billowing blanket of infinite white.

Mother Nature hums a lullaby:

Time for rest, darlings, time to dream.

Sometimes a gift can come in the form of adversity.  Things that seemingly make our lives more difficult can be small blessings in and of themselves.  Our recent snowfall has been this way for me.  Luckily, there was plenty of warning about the winter storm, and we were able to stock up on supplies-- food, drinking water, fire wood, pet food, household water.  We were expecting to lose power, which would have shut down our well pump and out heat pump, but fortunately, that never happened.  

The long days have been filed with simple pleasures, such as napping with my cats.  Newcomer Griffin with his own infinite whiteness, is like living art.  And he blends into my decorating scheme just beautifully.  Though I was hit with a momentary desire to warm up my decorating scheme for fall, now that winter weather has hit, white once again seems right.  

One of the most profound gifts of being snowed in has been the gift of time.  The days have been deliciously long and as productive as I have wanted them to be.  I have had time to read, to write, to create, to dream, along with the necessary chores of meal preparation, laundry, and cleaning.  

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to warm up and the roads will begin to thaw.  I will return to work, and this sweet winter respite will be over until my holiday break begins at the end of the month. Despite the heavy work of shoveling the driveway, cleaning off the cars, and splitting kindling, these few days have been a time of calm and simplicity, and for this, I am grateful.  Watching snowflakes fall is meditative, and my tiny house, with its wall of windows, provides a front-row seat to Nature's spectacular performance.

Wishing you a break from the busy-ness of life and time for reflection and presence, snowstorm or not.

Until next time...

Anne

 Poetry and photos in this post are property of Anne Silver.

Holiday crafting on a snowy weekend

This is what we awoke to Friday morning, and it continued to snow most of the day, leaving us buried beneath about 14" of snow and a layer of ice beneath that.  A state of emergency had been declared, with law enforcement officials telling people to stay off the roads due to hazardous conditions.  Living 4 miles from the nearest town, down twisting, hilly roads, we thought it wise to heed the warnings.  Our Prii (the plural of Prius, don't you know?) haven't left the driveway in days.  

What's a crafty girl to do besides spending the day in front of the blazing fire drinking coffee splashed with Irish Cream liqueur?

Get out the Mod Podge of course!

Using card stock, printed scrapbook papers, Mod Podge, and some rudimentary tools, it is very easy and fun to create one-of-a-kind cards for any occasion.  There is an infinite array of printed papers available at crafts stores.  I have been collecting them for years. 

Last winter I spent hours cutting scrap book papers into 1" to 2" squares and have been using them for art projects and hand-made cards ever since.  I strongly recommend getting a paper cutter if you decide to take on this project.  Getting square corners is nearly impossible without it.  Working with these papers is very much like quilting or doing abstract painting.  It takes no artistic experience, only a little time, and a willingness to play around with color, pattern, texture, and contrast.  To keep the mountain of little squares organized, I purchased some cheap stackable bins and have grouped the squares by color.  This makes it much easier that sifting through literally thousands of paper squares to find just the right one.

To create the cards:

Simply arrange paper squares on the face of the card, overlapping them as desired.  Brush the backside of each square with Mod Podge and adhere to the card, smoothing it as you go.  Mod Podge dries clear and flattens out easily, sans lumpy spots.  I prefer the matte finish, but it also comes in a glossy one.  After all bits of paper have been glued down, brush Mod Podge over the surface of the card as a sealer, making sure all corners are smoothly affixed to the card.  The glue dries in about an hour.

These are just a few of my finished pieces.

And so I am sending this out as a greeting card to you-- Happy Holidays, Dear Friends.

I hope you are enjoying the season.  If you decide to try this idea out, please share the results with me. I would love to see what you have done.  May all your snow days be happy ones!

Until next time...

Anne

A Touch of Nature

The Natural Decor philosophy is all about incorporating things derived from or taken directly from nature.  Each vignette in my house, from this newly constructed shelf behind the wood stove, to objects atop the counter, has a connection to the natural world.  

In the photo above you'll notice wood in the form of the small box and planks cladding the wall, metal, a pressed botanical specimen, earthenware, and shed deer antlers.

Surrounding the sofa, there are more objects from nature:  house plants, gourds, a cashmere throw, a pumpkin wrapped in honeysuckle vine, more wood, and a dried seed head. 

 In the kitchen, you'll see potted herbs, marble tiles, more wood, porcelain, and pantry staples in glass jars.

Potted plants dot nearly every surface of my home.  This house gets phenomenal light, and my plants are most happy here.  

The centerpiece of the dining table is a collection of gourds given to me by my daughter, which are corralled in a wooden tray.

Incorporating natural objects into decor enriches a home in several ways.  These items add texture, color, life, contrast, and layers of interest.  They are also inexpensive, and readily accessible.  A home abundant with gifts from the natural world feels authentic.  Just as no two people are alike, no two homes should be alike.  I do not want a home that looks like someone else's.  My home must reflect my personality, my interests, my relationships, and my personal history or it does not feel as if it is actually mine.  All items shown in this post do those things.  They are a part of my story.   

Wishing you a warm, peaceful, and authentic Thanksgiving.

Until next time,

Anne

Getting cozy

 With fall upon us, some colder nights have set in, and so has my deep desire for spaces that are warm and inviting.  This is a departure for me, but the house seems to telling me that earth tones are what is needed to get us through the cold seasons.  These colors echo the landscape outside.  The fields beyond the house have turned to tan and fading greens.  The bare trees and those still bearing some leaf cover are a patchwork of browns covering the hillsides.  Inside I have bid goodbye to the whites of summer, and embraced a new palette of grey, tan, coffee, and cream.  

A shawl draped over the arm of the couch repeats the color of the pumpkin my daughter gave me and the silk pillows on the sofa.  A cup of tea always elevates the coziness factor.

Our new wood stove was installed a few weeks ago, and on cold nights, we have been warmed by its glow and its radiant heat.  This morning is surprisingly balmy for this time of the year, hence it was not cold enough for me to light a fire.  I hope you can visualize dancing flames within.

A wool rug laid overtop the sea grass one brings major coziness.  It also set the tone for the colors in the room, as it has some soft greys and creams amid the many shades of brown.  The green gable wall is still one of those things I live with but do not embrace.  It coordinates relatively well with the earthy color scheme.

Looking down from the stairway, you get a sense of the layout of furniture.  This is a tiny room, and there is not much in it, yet there is still enough room to support a proper dining table.  We are hosting Thanksgiving in this new house, and I am looking forward to having my family gather round the table.

One design faux pas of which I am guilty is this carpeted cat tree in the corner of the living room.  It is a necessary evil when you have multiple cats, as the hierarchy needs to be accommodated comfortably.  Since losing Pyewacket, we had adopted one cat from the Humane Society (the white one on the top shelf) and then a week later, the sleeping tabby wandered up to the house one evening.  She was too gentle and loving for me to turn her away.  The siamese has only been with us since June.  We now have a houseful.  As pet owners, we all make concessions for the happiness of four-legged friends.  I guess it could be worse that a cat tree placed discreetly in the corner!  Someday, perhaps, I will have one of those stylish, modern ones made of acacia wood.  Ot perhaps a system of shelves and cat walks leading to the loft.  But for now, this does the trick.  

I hope you are all well and warm.  May your holidays be a delight.  I am grateful for being able to share my home with you and for those of you who take the time to read and comment.  One of the most basic human needs is to be heard, and I am so appreciative of you who allow me to feel heard.  I also thank you for your patience during my extended absences, as I am not one to post regularly, I am grateful for your willingness to hang with me despite this reality.  

Until next time...

Anne

A new home for my campaign bed

After we moved in to our country cottage, my dear friend, Chania at RAZMATAZ, had asked if our campaign bed fit anywhere in the new house.  The only room in our tiny home that has a ceiling tall enough to accommodate the bed's canopy is a loft, which we have made into our bedroom.  

I have always loved the act of climbing stairs to go to bed at night.  For me, this little ritual creates separation from the busier spaces of the house, and there is a sense of both anticipation and arrival as the ascent is being made. I sleep better here than I have slept in many years, and I think climbing the stairs has something to do with that.  Literature on sleep hygiene suggests that our brains associate little cues like walking upstairs or any other bedtime ritual with signaling the body that the time for sleep is near.  

The bed takes center stage in this room.  Sleeping on this bed makes me feel like a princess, with its stature and romantic, domed canopy.  Its sculptural lines have a commanding presence in any space.  

Furnishings here are sparse, contributing to the restful feel of this room. Accessories are organic and muted, such as the straw hat on the wall and linen lamp shades.  

The angles lines of the canopy echo the roofline.  A panel of fabric behind the headboard adds a cocoon-like feel to the bed without obstructing the view out the east-facing window.  Every morning since we moved in I have watched the sun rise through this window.  This morning bands of coral and salmon streaked across the sky, casting a glow over the forested hillsides.  Waking with the sunrise is one of the simplest and most exquisite pleasures I know.

My cats are also quite fond of this space, a high vantage point for watching the birds and comfy spot for napping.

The walls in this room are painted the same dark sage green that the rest of the house was when we moved in.  I am planning to lighten them up a bit with the same neutral creamy-taupey-grey, Sherwin Williams Neutral Ground, that I have used in the main downstairs room.  The continuity of paint colors keeps things simple and allows one to move furniture and accessories easily from one room to another.  I find colors other than neutrals to be limiting and confining.  The neutral color spectrum offers more flexibility and freedom.

Taking photographs of small rooms is extremely challenging.  It is hard to convey the relation of items in the room to the overall space itself, and thus I am having a hard time relating the way the room feels beyond the bed.  I hope these photos give you a taste at least.

Autumn has completely arrived here.  I hope you are able to enjoy the beauty and peace that come with this time of year.  

Until next time...

Anne

Making additional progress

Slowly, ever so slowly, our cottage in the woods is taking on a look and feel that suits my taste.  In the past couple of months, I have been working to make it less knotty pine cabin, more French country eclectic.  The primary area of focus has been the kitchen.

I used 3" x 6" carerra marble subway tile for the back splash, and I am simply in love with the way it turned out!  It has a luminescence similar to moonstone, my favorite gem.  I also painted the cabinets Sherwin Williams Neutral Ground, the same color I am using throughout the home.

The post rack is from Pottery Barn.  Stainless steel cookware also glimmers like jewelry and ties in with the appliances.

Right after moving in I tiled the counter top with 12" x 24" porcelain tiles in an attempt to mimic the look of concrete countertops.  This is a solid, durable material.  Larger tiles minimized the number of grout lines. 

Open shelves provide easy accessibility to dishes and keep the kitchen feeling lighter.

So this is the kitchen before.

And this is it now.  Much lighter and brighter.  I finally painted my windsor chairs black.  Little bits of black add drama and contrast to the white and gray palette.

This is the view from the front door.  The entire living, dining and cooking space is only 14' x 24'.  I still have not gotten around to painting that gable wall.  Some day soon it will get done, along with the rest of the trim.

The large expanses of glass and the high ceiling add to the sense of space.  You can see saw horses on the deck through the sliding doors.  There is still some work to be done here.

I have not yet decided what to do with the banister and railing.  I have considered leaving them the natural pine, painting them the same creamy white as everything else, painting them a medium gray.  Any suggestions or comments?

In 2 weeks, the tiled space in front of the stairs is going to be the home to this...

via Napoleon Wood Stoves

Napoleon wood burning stove.

Once the stove is in, I will be ready for winter winds to blow.  

In the meantime I am enjoying the beauty of the amazing autumn!

I hope you are able to do the same.  

As I stated in my previous post, decorating is my favorite distraction and my passion.  It helps ease the pain of recent loss and gets my body and mind energized.  

Until next time...

Anne

Saying goodbye

A couple of weeks we lost our beloved kitty, Pyewacket.  After years of incurable respiratory infection and the development of Cushing's disease (also incurable) we had to put her to sleep.  I have loved and lost many pets before, but have never felt grief this intense for one of my cats.  Looking at her picture still brings tears to my tired eyes.

My mom had advised me to look at the things I learned while loving and caring for her, that perhaps the meaning of her short life was to teach me things about myself, life, and love.

These are things I have learned:
(1) Breeding of flat-face Persian cats is inhumane.  The flatter the face, the more intense the respiratory problems.  These animals are born with a great disadvantage in order to conform to an arbitrary standard of what some consider to be beautiful.

(2)  The more we fight for something, the more attached we become.  In the nearly 2 years that Pyewacket lived with us, I cared for her as I would have a sick child.  She always needed something from me, from daily grooming to face washing to administration of medicine.  I fought to help her overcome her illness, just as she did, but even together our efforts were not strong enough.  As a result of the fight we shared, our bond was deep and lasting.

(3)  I have learned the vets do not know all the answers.  My vet was supportive and very caring and always told me that they at his office were just trying to help us.  I believe him.  But aside from invasive surgery to ream out her sinuses and nasal passages, which we opted not to do, the only treatment we could perform was to use the one antibiotic she could tolerate when the infection began to rage again, as it always did.  We also used a few grains of zyrtec daily, which helped her breathe a little more easily.  Persian cats commonly have allergies also, which can contribute to the sinus infections.  Giving medication to cats is tremendously difficult and stressful for both the cat and her humans.  The vet tried his best in this case, and I do not blame him for Pyewacket's death.  She was a very difficult case and such a fragile creature.  I know that he was just trying to help, and she came close to dying 8 months ago.  He actually saved her that time and gave us 8 more months with her.

(4)  I have learned to trust myself even more.  There were occasions where I told the vet I thought that steroid injections, which were sometimes given along with the antibiotic, were causing her fur to fall out and her skin to become flaky.  He said steroids don't usually do that, that there was probably something else going on. At her last appointment, when he said she appeared to have Cushing's disease because of the way her skin looked and her loss of fur, he stated it could have resulted from steroid overuse.  It could also have resulted from a tumor on her adrenal gland.  We will never know for sure, and knowing won't bring her back.  On my other pets, I will insist that steroid use be the last option.  The side effects often seem to overwhelm the short-term benefits.

(5)  Persians are inherently different from other cats.  They have a gentleness I have never before experienced, which goes beyond their calm natures.  Pye would often brush my cheek ever so softly with her right paw when she wanted affection.   She would raise up on her hind legs to receive a pet.  She was always happy, always eager to interact, always loving, despite the illness and daily struggles to give her medication.  Living with Pyewacket made me smile and sigh with deep pleasure.

(6)  I have learned (again) how little control I have.  We all like to think that if we do certain things just so and plan and work very hard, that things will go our way.  This is an illusion we buy into, and sometimes it works out for the best, but other times, it does not.  The death of someone we love is a great reminder that sometimes our plans and desires have nothing to do with what the universe has in store.

(7)  My capacity to love has not been hindered by the many losses I have had in my life.  Love, and not just romantic love, is the reason for our being.  I choose to keep my heart open and to allow the infinite well-spring of love to flow into and through it.  I know there will be more loss and more pain, yet to exist in a state with a closed heart and lack of emotional connection is not an option for me.  I choose love.  And I have the sweetest of memories to comfort me during times of grief.

I bid farewell and safe passage to my sweet Pyewacket.  Others may come after you, but none can replace you.

And so, I have been continually working on making this new house one that reflects my style and my personality.  These are things over which I do have control.  Focusing on them helps to ease my grief and affirms life by caring for those in the here and now, celebrating beauty, and connecting to the abundance of the natural world.

Stay tuned for the next post where I share changes I have made to our little cottage in the woods.   After all, decorating is good therapy!

Until next time...

Anne