Our new house!

We finalized a contract on this bad boy yesterday....









Five bedrooms, 3.5 baths, plenty of room for guests! And we promise to have a whole lotta boats to splash around in. :)

The rest of the story...

So in our excitement over putting our house under contract on Sunday, I left out the rest of the story. That would be the part where Keith burns the house down. I'm not kidding.

Sunday really was a crazy day. We had to wake the kids up at 5 am so we could catch our flight home from Kentucky. Then we had a showing that morning so even though our flight landed at 8:30, we couldn't go home until after 11. Then Keith went to church while I put our super tired kids to bed. They would NOT have lasted through 5 minutes of church. Then we had to pack everyone out again while our realtor showed the house again at 3:00. Then our realtor met us at the house at 4:00 to go over our offers. Whirlwind, right?

Well, at 4:00 we walk in the back door and meet our realtor in the kitchen as she tells us some details of our offers. We decide to go settle around the table in the other room to review everything. We put on a movie on for Bennett and Keith got Leah out of the carseat. He took her blanket off her and set it up on the counter and walked away. Shortly after, I was standing in the doorway of the kitchen talking to everyone in the other room. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something strange on the counter top. A flicker.

I looked over to see Leah's blanket on top of the candle in flames. Flames nearly touching the cabinet above. I grabbed the blanket and threw it in the sink and turned the water on. The fire was out really fast and really, no damage was done. (Well, except for a favorite pink blanket of Leah's) But our hearts all skipped a beat (actually, a lot of beats) when we realized how quickly it could have gone the other way. If I had only been one step further into the dining room, I wouldn't have seen the flame. I'm sure we never would have noticed until it was too late. So so so scary!

But as it turned out, we laughed at Keith and sat down and sold our house. Then went on our merry way.


I feel so lucky (blessed!!!) that the rest of the story wasn't worse! Now that our house is sold, I am getting rid of all our yummy smelling candles. It can smell like an iguana cage in here for all I care.

Anyone want some free candles?

SOLD!!!

We signed a contract yesterday!! We were in Kentucky last week house hunting (more on that later) and came home yesterday to four offers! We picked the best one, took about 5 minutes to negotiate, then signed it all away.



We are feeling awfully close to putting in an offer on an amazing house we found in Kentucky. I'll post more about that later. All I will say for now is...LAKEFRONT PROPERTY. Plan your vacations to Kentucky NOW!!!!

Off the charts

I took Leah to the doctor for her 4-month checkup. WOW! I can't believe how much she's grown! She weighed 18 lbs 4 oz. She was completely off the charts for both her height and weight and her head was in the 95th percentile. I guess that's what happens when you feed a baby raw meat. :) What a chunker. Thank goodness it's all proportional though. Wouldn't it be sadly funny if she was above the 100th percentile for her weight and at the bottom of the charts for her height? But SUCH a good baby. So mellow and content. I just love her squishy thighs and cheeks! So fun!!!

I'm telling you, this kid gets table food.
Ok, not really. But she was having a lot of fun gnawing on a piece of celery.

This girl LOVES her thumb. She wants nothing to do with a pacifier but the thumb has become her friend.



She also LOVES her big brother. Bennett can make her laugh just by looking at her. So cute...

Happy Birthday Keith!!!

Happy Birthday to the man with a plan....


Isn't he HOT?!? :)

LOVE YA!!!

Over the top

Wow--I'm posting so much lately. I guess now that my house is uncluttered, my head is starting to be cluttered enough to actually have stuff to say....

Today was our big OPEN HOUSE! We listed our house last weekend but did not allow showings until today's open house. So we are now officially out there. We have been talking about renting a gorilla suit or dressing up like the statue of liberty and standing out on our lawn with a for sale sign. Do you think that would get a buyer? It must work for the tax prep store in town as there has been an idiot in a costume standing on the corner since February. What a terrible job. But I really, really, really want to sell fast. The stress of it all is KILLING me!!!

Besides dressing up like a dork, we pulled out all the stops for the open house today. Our realtor said we were over the top. Ha ha--that's what happens when you buy the house of a wood snob perfectionist. We had fresh flowers, soft music playing, and I even baked a cake right before we left so it would smell super good. Our realtor was so puzzled that it smelled like something was baking the whole time. She laughed when I told her that I took the cake out of the oven and let it cool in the car while we went to church! Definitely over the top.

So here's a few pics. I know I have the "before" pics around somewhere but I'm not feeling like hunting them down. Maybe later. All you need to know is, it was real ugly.

Here's the view standing at the front door:

Looking back at the living room:


View from the stairs, coming down:

The dining room--looking to the left:


Dining room on the right:

I probably don't even have to say this....but I love this kitchen. Isn't Keith amazing?!? He built the cabinets from Pennsylvania cherry wood. LOVE em. Pics never do justice.


Upstairs--our bedroom:


Looking into the hall from our bedroom:

Bennett's room:

Leah's room:


Bathroom:

Outside:

With the 2-car garage in back:


So there you go. Steve and Mindy, Layne and Jami: now you can pretend that you actually came to visit us. And yes, I am trying to make you feel guilty. :)

Anyone want to buy our house??? (pleeeeeaaaase?)

Lucky day

Today did not start out well. Just chaos pretty much from the start. If one wasn't crying, the other was. Or the phone was ringing. Or I was dropping our new DVD player down the stairs. And then the phone was ringing. And then the baby was crying. And then Bennett was sticking band-aids all over and spreading a mess to every thing he touched. And then Bennett was crying......blah, blah, blah. And so it goes.

Then I went to the bank. In my ongoing attempt to unclutter our house, I had a TON of coins that I needed to put into the coin machine. So I gathered all the coins, got the kids loaded up, and got them unloaded again once we got there. Then after getting inside, I discovered that BOTH coin counting machines were occupied by people with massive bags of coins. So much so that a guy was there constantly changing the coin bags because they kept filling up. Great. I'd made it all the way there only to have to stand and wait. So frustrating. Just as I was telling myself to just forget it and go home, the branch manager walks out of his office and introduced himself. He loudly proclaims that because they are celebrating their upcoming merger with XYZ bank and introducing a new green logo, I won $11 bucks because I was wearing green! SWEET!

So, I decided NOT to get back in the car with all my coins because I suddenly felt a lot more patient. Then I counted my coins worth seventy five bucks (!!!) PLUS my lucky extra $11 and went merrily on my way. Ka-ching.

It's my lucky day. :)

South paw-thetic

The other day we had what might possibly be one of our last bonfires on the dirty beach of the Delaware River. It seems that every other month or so, we've always had a huge pile of wood scraps with no where to go. Some in the shape of a rocker gone bad or a spoon that was never finished or a table leg that never got a table. Several years ago we discovered how totally wasted and forgotten the banks of the river are behind the airport and we have a favorite spot we like to go to burn our wood pile. We always splurge on the best hot dogs (Nathan's) and have dogs, marshmallows and whatever else we can find cooked over cherry, walnut, maple or some other exotic hardwood. It's especially great after the sun goes down. You can no longer see the piles of trash washed ashore beneath your feet or the oil stained tree branches littering the beach. Plus you can see the glow of the city and the lights of the oil refinery across the river actually look pretty. It's great!!!

So on Saturday night we burned our last wood pile. The accidental artist is officially gone. Not even a trace of it remains in our house. No one would ever know that our basement and garage have once been production "studios".

Of course, Bennett loves going to the beach because his favorite activity is throwing rocks in the water. He could literally do it for hours. So the other night, we were all doing our typical "hanging out" at the beach. We had a roaring fire and I sat nearby with the baby while Keith and Bennett searched the beach for balls and a bat (we always say there is 2 of anything that floats laying around there). Then they play a game of baseball, hitting balls into the water until they stop coming back to shore, followed by a rock throwing fest until it's time to eat.

The other night as I sat by the fire, I noticed something very odd about Keith. He was throwing rocks and nearly falling over every time. He looked so messed up and I couldn't figure out why. I kept thinking, 'what is wrong with him? Has he always thrown this bad?' Keith has never been one for any sport involving a ball but this...this was really bad. Just all wrong.

Then I realized he was throwing left-handed. First of all, phew! I thought he just really sucked! And B, this is hilarious! Next time you are out with a ball or just a bunch or rocks by the water, you've got to try this. Then stand back and watch how funny people look when they are trying. Good times, folks.

Going Going.....

Anybody wanna dumpy twin in a dumpy suburb of a dirty and dumpy down on its luck eastern metropolis? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? Did I mention that I'm ready to move on.... Please buy my house.....

So. sick. of.

CLEANING!

I've been at it for what seems like years. I can't remember what it feels like to breathe real air. The only thing going on in my lungs lately is mixed with paint, windex, or simple green. I hate it so bad! The realtor is coming tomorrow to take pics of the place. Then I'm leaving. Until it sells. I don't want to eat here. Or sleep here. Or shower here. Living is messy. I just want it to stay clean. I'm so sick of cleaning.

Good or great?

From a mother's day card Keith gave me a while ago.....

"Good moms let you lick the beaters..."


"Great moms turn off the mixer first."



Wow. I must be so awesome. :)

A bunch of random stuff

I survived another five days of Keith being out of town. Whew! But seriously, enough is enough and that is never happening again. Really.

After Keith's last 10 days away, I practically made him sign in blood that he wouldn't leave me home alone with baby and toddler. He agreed and we planned to take a family trip to Pittsburgh for another conference Keith had to attend last weekend. Although, as time got closer, I realized what a stupid idea that would be. Even though we would be "together", Keith still had to be at the conference. And that would leave me stuck in a single room with 2 beds and a tv and no toys, swings, treats, cribs, etc. So I realized how much MORE miserable that would be and I stayed home alone. Again. But this time--seriously--no more.

We are still potty training. I'm pretty happy that I didn't back out on my deadline and he's been wearing big kid pants ever since. He's got the peeing down (didn't I say this was a bunch of random stuff?) but he still hides in the corner on the 'other'. Frustrating. But he's got a nice little collection of new trains going on. He's filled up several sticker charts and has earned a train of his choosing with each one. The stakes have gotten way higher if he poops in the potty but so far, he's not buying it. This potty training thing is getting expensive!

And like I said folks, random.

The house is getting sorta close to putting up on the market. There's always just a few (and then some) things left to get done before we'll put a for sale sign up. It's really hard to get much accomplished with the littles during the day. I guess I should quit blogging and start working.

And speaking of the littles....our littlest is getting bigger every day! She is SUCH a sweetie. So pleasant and happy and a great sleeper. She sleeps 12-13 hours at night and usually gives me an 8 hour stretch between feedings. Awesome. She smiles and coos all day long. I love her so much I can't stand it!

Here's a few (random!) pics of the happy girl--



Chillin' in the bumbo


I have a feeling this face will be used on me a lot in the future....

The End of the Accidental "Artist"

I took apart my studio yesterday. It began it's humble life as a workshop but fate dealt it a cruel twist that led to its demise.



When Andrea and I returned from Southeast Asia, we rented a little place in an old mansion on 13th East near the University of Utah. We needed furniture. A quick trip to Fred Meyer and later RC Willey revealed that the Cambodians were onto something with the floor mats, which for 10 bucks serve as a bed, dinette set, desk, sofa, coffee table, and yoga mat. After our Bishop came to visit us and he nearly ripped the seat of his suit sitting on the floor, I resolved to return from my Siamese daydream and get some real American furniture. Preferring to save my hard earned cash for an upcoming trip to climb volcanoes in Ecuador, I knew I would have to improvise rather than purchase said furniture.



Our first couch was three logs, which were cut-offs of beams going into a house I was building in Park City. They were all different heights so my first furniture project looked like an old wharf piling minus the damp seagulls. Now our bishop, if he ever came pack might get a little pine gum back there, but at least he would be off the floor. Things got a little better in the Utah years but not much. Pine remained the material of choice and my hand held Skil saw seemed to do as well as any table saw. This era was defined by the woodworking that I learned from my dad: "The cheapest way is the best way but don't spare the epoxy!"



Once established in Philadelphia we no longer needed much furniture, as our first home here was only big enough for Andrea, myself and two small canoes. Now incorrectly considering myself to be some sort of academic, I started to read books about furniture making. Being bored with studying feet all the time, I made a tiny workbench for the apartment and taught myself to hand cut dovetails. Coincidentally an art gallery that I walked past going to and from school sold works by old masters George Nakashima and Wharton Esherick. Another exhibited contemporary studio furniture that blew my mind. We also lived close enough to walk to the annual Philadelphia furniture show, which is arguably one of the best shows around for artistic woodwork. By the end of the year Andrea decided to move us to a bigger place now that my tiny workbench meant that she had to live out on the porch.



Our new house had a large empty basement that I took over as my workshop. Another benefit of the new house in suburban Philadelphia is that expensive hardwoods grow like weeds and neighbors were constantly dragging logs of walnut, dogwood, and curly maple to the curb to be hauled off to a landfill. I routinely cruised the 'hood on my bike for potential table legs or stretchers in the form of black cherry yard trash. Slowly our three-bedroom home filled with some nice pieces inspired by real artist woodworkers and some things that were clearly experiments gone wrong but too useful to throw away. I tried to create an aesthetic in which my furniture was both beautiful and useful. I will probably never be able to go back to pine after the sweet smell of fresh cut cherry defined the early experience in that basement workshop.



Every neighborhood has at least one, that nosy lady without enough of her own business to satiate herself. Ours just happened to be on the board for the local art show. Every time I was in the backyard or garage finishing some furniture she happened by and stayed to talk. Eventually she forced her way inside to see more of my woodwork. "You really need to be in The Lansdowne Art Show,” she too frequently remarked. I finally caved in more to get her off my back than anything. Somehow I imagined that it would be more like a county fair where the artists bring in items for display rather than to aggressively market them. Incorrectly I assumed that most artists worked more for the love of making beauty and making some sort of statement rather than just the Benjamin’s. Boy, was I wrong.



My first art show was very awkward. Not really knowing what to expect Andrea and I took cues from the others near by and hurriedly came up with prices for the items we had brought. Our prices were in no way reflective of the cost to make plus the time or any other sane formula to value things. We just picked a number that we hoped was too high for anyone to pay without seeming ridiculous. Every piece was something that we were using currently in our home. It was a private yard sale where we really did not want to sell anything. I was confused when the first several people asked for my business card. I'm not a businessman; I'm an artist I kept thinking to myself. I admit that I was very flattered and did have a great time with the entire town ogling my stuff.



Towards the end of the show two of my pieces sold for $1500. No one was more surprised than I. I did not recognize it then, but this was the beginning of the end. I got lost in the artist woodworker gig I had going. It was tons of fun in the beginning just to see how far I could make it go. My good friends Chuck and Tara helped out by giving me tons of support in addition to real assistance with things such as a logo and business cards. It was like free money in the early days. I had fun making the furniture, and then I got paid for it. Andrea and I quickly categorized this windfall as "fun money" and used it for toys and vacations. I thought I had the greatest thing going.




Black Cherry when cut with sharp blades smells sweet and there is nothing like it in the world. If those sharp blades start to dull or are pushed too fast, they produce heat which begins to burn the sap. It's like when the delicious smell of baking cookies becomes a horrific stench if they are burned. That's how my workshop started to smell. I was rushing to get production up. Jobs that used to be pleasurable became annoyingly mundane. I started using my beautiful hand tools less and my power tools more. While hand tools are much slower, they are also much quieter and produce less mess. Using hand tools is like a peaceful meditation where power tools are jarringly noisy. It's the difference between a bicycle ride through the country in a fresh spring breeze and a commute through west Philly on a muggy day during rush hour without AC.



I kept plugging away as the things I made became less artistic but more profitable. I focused on production and making things that I knew the customers wanted rather than what I felt was both beautiful and useful. I wasted an entire Christmas season sanding infernal cutting boards that gift givers would not stop buying. No Christmas cheer for me that year, just the taste of burned walnut in the back of my throat for about 2 months. I began to loathe time in the shop. I just wanted to get outside where I belonged. I wanted to go back to those volcanoes in Ecuador and throw all of my tools into the crater. Luckily I got an easy out... With residency finishing up this spring I boxed all of my tools up really tight (you know for the move...) I have even convinced Andrea that we should rent for the first year or more in Kentucky (read: no workshop in a rental!) I have convinced her that this is a sound financial decision but all I really want is to be free of the "studio." She keeps trying to remind me how much I love woodworking but we all know she just wants a few knockoff Nakashima conoid chairs for the dining room...



I do enjoy the smell of fresh cut cherry shavings coming out of a razor-sharp hand plane to give focus to a quiet meditation in a silent workshop. I love seeing my wife rock our children to sleep in a chair I made myself. I like being able to share things I have made with friends and family. I might even uncrate the tools in Kentucky after I climb a few 5.12s. What I will not do is masquerade as an artist while trying to sell junk to fools with too much cash. No “studio” in my future…