etc.

It’s taken me five and a half years to admit it: our house is neat, but it’s hardly ever clean. You see, I’m fine at organizing and putting things away (mail, newspapers, laundry, etc.) and this keeps the house fairly neat. But I’m not so great with cleaning and, as much as I like a clean house, I hate doing the cleaning. The only time I ever clean is when the dust bunnies start driving me batty, or when we have people coming over. And, even then, I’m not above doing a really superficial job of cleaning and I’m more than willing to turn a blind eye to the dust behind the furniture and the cobwebs floating from the ceiling. If you don’t move the furniture and if you dim the lights, the guests can’t see them anyway! And, hey, we hardly ever have guests! Why? Because the house is hardly ever clean.

It’s taken me five and a half years to admit this too: I think it might be time for a cleaning lady. The struggle, for me, always came down to reconciling the obvious advantages of having someone else clean for us (time saved, never having to pick up a mop again, etc.) with the vaguely uncomfortable and generally distasteful idea of paying someone to pick up after us when we’re able-bodied human beings. But then I read this post this morning on Things I Learned the Hard Way (which is a great new blog with all kinds of good female folk wisdom) and I think I’m finally ready to put the “martyrdom” behind me (which is what Jennifer Weintraub, the author of the blog post calls it. Brilliant! And so true) and make some calls. A quote:

it is ok to pay someone to do something you don’t like to do or don’t want to do. Just make sure you pay them fairly and don’t think you are superior to them because you put them on the payroll.

If you’ve struggled with the “outsourcing housekeeping” issue, as I have, I urge you to read the whole post. And stop being a martyr!

My 17 days off have whizzed by and I’ve managed to score precisely one item off my to-do list. Still, I refuse to beat myself up about it because I now have a studio! Here, go look at the pictures. I decided to go with a very pared-down version of genre book-organization, so, for example, all fiction is shelved together, but in no particular order. I wrestled with this for a bit but decided to go with broad categories so that new books added to the collection can be integrated with ease (my book-buying has dropped off dramatically in the past two years, but I’d be irresponsible to not allow room for collection development, wouldn’t I?).

The studio set-up took a lot longer than I expected. On account of the big ugly furniture and clutter we had to schlep out of there, what I assumed would take a couple of days ended up consuming my entire vacation! Which means, I now have all of two days to spend in there before heading back to work, and spend it I will! The first creation born in the new digs is up in the shop.

I contributed some earrings and note cards to The Sampler last month and received a subscription for the month in return! Lots of lovely trinkets, bibelots, jewellery, and buttons. Like Christmas in July!

Also, my backtack goodies arrived last week and this picture scarcely does them justice. I got a lovely notions holder (here, have a closer look), a quilted book holder, and all manner of other sewing and beaded goodies! Thank you, back tack partner! Now, if only I could figure out who you are… (found the fabric in the gallery, but no “from” & “to”!)

I have to admit, I’ve had these pictures taken and downloaded for a few days, but I was enjoying hearing about everyone’s book organization so very much that I delayed posting as long as I could so that I could keep collecting your comments! Thank you! When I posted the question I mostly expected minor variations on genre/alpha-ordered books so I was thrilled and floored by so many different organization techniques! I’m happy to say that my books have been shelved and the rest of the studio is coming along nicely (we’re 90% there), so stay tuned for the impending reveal. The anticipation!

Those who know me well know that I am a bit of an instant gratification fiend. That is, when I decide that I am going to do something, I need to do it now; not later, not tomorrow, but right now. This week, I’ve been harping on the studio, and because we haven’t had the chance to whip it into shape instantly, I’ve been somewhat grumpy and difficult to live with (bless the mister, he is some sort of saint for putting up with me). The bookshelves we ended up buying (and not building ourselves on account of finding shelves that were both practical and affordable) were delivered last Tuesday and this evening we finally had a chance to put the first one together (we bought two), so I am now in considerably better spirits and the mister can finally exhale a little.

At the moment I am thrilled (I can start organizing!) and overwhelmed (there are too many books!) at the same time, and really, I’m a bit ashamed to be so daunted with the task of organizing my books (I don’t think I have to tell you what I do for a living), but there you go, it all seems a bit crazymaking. So, instead of plunging ahead, I decided to make myself a cup of tea, have a wander around blogland, and leave the big decisions till tomorrow. In the meantime, how do you organize your books?

Part of what I was up to during the radio silence was a front yard overhaul which we started and finished in a single day (all thanks to my excellent work horse family, thank you, famille!). You might remember me mentioning this little yard problem last year. Well, it’s done! Before and after pics are here.

We have a lovely room on the third floor of our house that started its life as an OK but not great study. We have a big, ugly desk in there that we bought from the previous owners (so big that you’d have to disassemble it to get it through the door, never mind down the two flights of stairs), four utilitarian and variously unattractive bookshelves that I have been using since I was a student, assorted boxes of books and old bricks (don’t ask) and an easel. The room itself is lovely: small dormered window, 4′x4′ skylight, built-in closet space (with mirrored doors that I could do without, but they do reflect the light nicely), and a very old bricked up chimney whose crumbly red bricks add some lovely warm vibes to the space.

Ever since I set up the wireless network in the house, we stopped using the study. The poor Internet connection up there was the impetus for setting up the network in the first place (using a different cable connection), so we hardly ever go up there anymore, except to grab or deposit handfuls of books. And, since we don’t use the space, it has become the de facto storage area for our deck furniture and a dumping ground for a miscellany of bits and bobs (mostly things I can’t bear to throw out, like mailer boxes. They are impossible to efficiently store but are absolutely essential because they’re so easily recyclable, and I can’t bring myself to buy a mailer box!).

Here is the only picture I have of the study, from the property listing two years ago (that’s the behemoth desk, although it doesn’t look nearly big enough in the picture). Sadly, the space looks much better in this picture (before we moved in) compared to its current junk-pile-wasteland state:

One of my plans for the house this summer is to work on this room, converting it into a fully-functional studio/study. It’s the perfect space for a studio because it’s big and bright and there is a washroom up there (for paint, etc.), and the deck is steps away, for breaks (you can see a teeny-tiny patch of Lake Ontario from the deck!) and for sitting and knitting/reading, and I would very much like a good, inspirational space to work on creating all the things I want to create. And it will have to double-time as a study because it will still have to house all the books we own (there are many, so very many), and it will be nice to have a dedicated space to write once again. I spent weeks on end up there, writing, in the summer/fall of 2003 (before the junk descended) and found the space to be perfectly conducive to creative endeavour, even in its shabby state, ugly behemoth desk notwithstanding. So far, plans for the space include:

• built-in bookcases to line the entire left wall (the one with the two pictures on it. Aside: look at how high those pictures have been hung! How silly!)
• destruction and removal of the big, ugly desk
• closet organizers to house the yarn and winter coat collection in the closet
• some sort of removable shelving on either side of the chimney (opposite the left wall, not in the picture) to house more yarn, fabric, and other supplies (including mailer boxes!)
• a good, permanent corner for the easel
• distinct desks/work areas for sewing, crafting, blocking, writing (have to work this out a bit more)
• a comfy chair or two for humans and/or cats
• a “clippings wall”, probably a bulletin board of sorts on one (or both?) of the sloped walls on either side of the dormer
• inspirational wall colour! Right now it is a soft white (not pastel yellow and blue, thankfully) that I really like, but I think I’d like to have a go at something with a bit more punch.

I can’t wait to get started! Of course, a large part of the fun has been scouring the interweb for ideas & inspiration, and finding goodies like:

• this site
• this checklist
• this article
• Claire’s readership (check out all the great comments at the end of the post)
• this photographer’s apartment/studio
• this collection of artists’ studios online

We’ll probably start working on it May, watch for updates! In the meantime, if you have any experience with this sort of thing, let me know? Thanks!

Such kind words for Clapotis, thank you!

Today is the feast day of William of Bourges, an austere gentleman who, in 1200, was selected as Archbishop of Bourges by the very sacrosanct method of, not divine intervention, but the picking up of lots. That’s right, the writing of names on bits of parchment. How very secular!

Did you clean out your eavestroughs and downspouts last Fall? We didn’t. And, as a result, we had a little puddle in the basement last week. You see, there is a catchment area in the corner of our house, a great little catchment area, as catchment areas go, that fills with a great, big body of water when there is no where for thawing snow to run off to. And so, when we had the thaw last week, some of that great, big body of water made its way into the basement, and so there was sopping and mopping of water with towels and mops, and the whole thing took us about 4 hours to drain, and the only reason I’m mentioning this is because it has since snowed again, and to-morrow, another great thaw comes our way. If you need me, I’ll be in the basement with a bucket.

One would do well to eat all one’s leafy vegetables and clean out one’s eavestroughs.

Do you count your steps when you walk? I do.

It started last year when we moved into The House With Many Stairs. There are 3 different staircases in our house with a total of 40 stairs, which seems like a whole lot to me, although I don’t have much to compare that with. All 40 of these stairs are cased in tiny little stairwells that make any casual trip up or down them a bit hair-raising, and a trip with a loaded laundry basket particularly treacherous. Add to the 40 stairs and narrow stairwells my long-standing fear of falling down (and up) stairs and it didn’t take me long to make a conscious note of how many stairs were on each staircase so that I could count my way down for those times when I couldn’t always see my way down. And did I mention that I have two dark cats who like to sleep on the darkly-carpeted stairs and that when they aren’t sleeping they like to amuse themselves by weaving their way through my timid stair-climbing feet? It’s a small wonder my limbs are still in tact.

Lately, I’ve become so neurotic about all the stair-counting that I’ve also started counting my steps on flat surfaces. Would you be surprised to learn that it takes an average of 230-280 steps to walk from my office to my car in the parking lot (of which 26 of those steps are stairs)? Or that the closest washroom from my office desk is 11 steps away? Or that 16 paces from the Reference Desk gets me to the nearest dictionary? The most bizarre part of all this is that I feel comforted by all this pace-related knowledge. It makes me feel like I know exactly where I’m going and that I won’t fall over on my way there.

Have you seen the new knitpics? Here’s a pile of knitting magazines that, I guess, makes me a magazine person now; here’s my birthday pressie from my Secret Pal (thanks again Pal!); and here’s my hottie-mchottison sister in the Rowan Cotton Braid poncho. And I finished the front of the organic sweater last night (it snuck up on me! I was knitting away on the stocking stitch, then Bam! Raglan and neck shaping! Then it was done.), and started on a sleeve. Pictures of those to-morrow.

I’m happy to-day because I found good rolled oats in the bulk food section of my grocery store and they made a superlative batch of granola, much better than the quick oats (which are smaller and flakier) I usually get from the baking aisle. Yoghurt & granola for breakfast again, I’ve missed you.

Holidays are over and the mister and I did no gardening at all. Gardening was the reason why we took the week off in the first place, we have a little tempest in a teapot brewing in our front yard, which is to say that it’s a tiny little yard that needs a lot of work that should take no time at all to complete. However, we realized on Tuesday that we had no plan at all (and you need a plan to redo a garden, don’t you?) and hardly any money to throw behind the project, so it will remain weedy and overgrown until next summer. A little gift from us to our neighbours so that they have someone on the block to bitch about for another year.

I’m on to the second rectangle of the Rowan Cotton Braid poncho and I’m thrilled about this yarn. It looks positively frothy all knit up, yet it’s drapey and clingy and so so tactile that I can’t stop stroking it for long. The finished poncho is for my sister who will have to provide a modeled picture for KnitPics whether she likes it or not.

This morning, sunny and humid in my city of home and dense air, thick cloud and damp sidewalks in my city of work. Some days it feels like I travel between two different ecosystems, 60 kilometers away from each other and 40 minutes on the highway.

The work on the house is winding down with a slight hum of a circular saw. The two flat roofs are done, the new deck is all but done, just a couple of boards waiting to be nailed in place to form a step. The inside bit, where they pulled out the old window and put in a new window (much bigger, opens like a door) needs a bit of drywalling and reinstallation of the baseboard and our earnest contractor, Pierre, tells me it will be done today. He even saved the old baseboard, bless him! The place is due for an updated round of pictures so keep an eye out for those any day now.

Which brings me to news of the poncho. As I confessed in the comments yesterday, it has been frogged. I couldn’t bring myself to rip apart the already completed rectangle yet, for sheer lack of will, but the second one, half way done, has been reduced to a couple of balls, tightly-wound, centre-pull, awaiting further instruction. The going was good for a while, I was sure I could make do with my feckless attempt to rewrite a pattern, but what got me in the end was a yarn shortage. And since the stuff I’m using is way too expensive to replenish, I’ve decided that my only course of action will be to start over with a single strand knit, not what the pattern calls for at all but I’m stubborn.

Dogged perseverance or self-inflated hubris? We’ll see.