Wait... you thought I was done?

Yes, we're in The Log Highness, (pause for squealing) but that doesn't mean we're done.  Lots more to do, folks.  Lots and lots.   And yet, this tightly-wound girl is surprisingly sanguine about it all.  Yeah, I know.  Crazy.  I'm even attempting to blog from my phone... although this might be what pushes me right over the edge.  Fair warning.

The Bob has been finishing this and that as we try to stay warm in this zero degree weather.  

To wit:

Walls in the laundry room! 

 The coolest log hand rail anywhere!

 We'll see what I come home to next... will it be permanent stair treads and risers?  Bedroom door?  Even actually living in the house doesn't diminish my excitement over every little new thing that gets built or finished.  I'm still just as squealy over new closet rods as ever. 

 Actually, if it would just stop snowing, The Hubs could come in from the relentless task of plowing our oh-so-long-and-picturesque driveway and work some more in the house!  Poor guy.  Poor plow truck!  That thing is on its last legs.

 

 But, hey!  At least it's clear so you can come visit!  You are coming to visit, aren't you?  

Especially if you like to sand and paint walls.  Then you're definitely welcome.  Heh.

Too many things

I discovered today that there are too many things left to do to move in to The Log House.  We're never moving in.  

Well, at least that's the way it feels today. 

Too much left to pack.  Too much left to clean.  Too much left to build/finish/paint.

I spent HOURS just vacuuming the first floor log walls and the rest of the dining room and kitchen ceilings and cleaning windows of accumulated grime and adhesive from those manufacturer stickers that we just never took off before.

But I am digging those double-hung windows!  

I might actually clean those windows again within the coming decade.  

Bob and his father built a temporary railing on the balcony.  Eventually it will be made of log and bent twig, but for now, it'll keep me from falling off the edge.  Temporary, but sturdy.  

But there's still so much left to do:  

• clean out the arctic entry
• prime and paint the arctic entry
• select, purchase and install flooring in the arctic entry
• install hooks for coats and hats and bins for gloves and tuques
• move all the construction materials to the basement or to the shop
• clean the upstairs -- floors, walls, ceilings
• prime and paint the master bedroom walls
• install the board ceiling in the master bedroom
• let's not even talk about the master bathroom
• install bedroom and bathroom doors on the first floor
• put several coats of poly on the bedroom and bathroom doors
• stair treads and risers
• hearth and stone facing on the chimney
• exterior door face casings and filling in that empty spot over those doors
• laundry room wall and door

I'm not even listing things like exterior window casings, baseboard, closet doors, laundry chute doors, the whole closet in the master bedroom....      okay, well, I guess I did list them.  But there's more!  I'm just getting too depressed thinking of them all. 

It doesn't all have to be done before we move our schtuff out of the house in town and out to The Lake and start sleeping in logness and telling the post office to deliver our bills out there....   but a good bit of it does.   And now that I can see the move on the horizon, I feel impatient.  

There's the real problem:  I am impatient.  I want to live in my hand-crafted, lovely, perfect, beautiful log home NOW and I don't want to have to vacuum more sawdust to do it.  What an ungrateful whiner I am.  But, there you have it.  Warts and all.  

It's a work in progress, but I suppose so am I.  And if this house doesn't kill me, I sure will love living there.   *grumble*   You know:  in three more years.  

Just kidding.  

Not really.  

*Harumph*

The end.

March

It's March 13 and it smells like May.   You know:  you go outside and it's unexpectedly warm and it just smells warmer... like when you drive south in the winter and get out of the car for a long-awaited rest break and the temp is 20 degrees warmer than the last pee stop?     Hello?  Am I the only one here?

Moving on.

I can now throw laundry from the first floor bathroom down the chute into the basement!

 

And in other news:

STEAM'S UP!!!!

Artsy fartsy

Can you see it?  


It's Bob at the bottom of the laundry chute, looking up at me, who is standing on the 2nd floor at the top of the chute.

Well, it looked artsy fartsy to me.  *humph*

In which Anne feels like doing some laundry

Because:

PLOP!

Can't you just see dirty socks hurtling out of that laundry chute and into the waiting basket below?   Instead of hanging around on the floor for days until I get disgusted and go around muttering and picking them up and growling at the offending family members?     *Ahem*   Sorry about that.

YAY!  LAUNDRY CHUTE!!!

.

Laundry, shoot!

The shoot! because lookit:

John Sheetmetalguy already finished our laundry chute!    Shoot, that's quick work!

And now for my campaign of begging, cajoling, and wheedling to get The Hubs to make a rotating bookcase that hides a door to somewhere.  ANYWHERE!   It must happen. 

What is the Terminal Velocity of Dirty Socks?

We are going to have a LAUNDRY CHUTE!!   Isn't that awesome?!   Bob has reserved floor/ceiling and wall space for a chute to go from the master bath to the basement laundry room, with an opening in the first floor bathroom as well.  He spoke to our local sheet metal fabricator and ordered the actual chute itself yesterday!

{Here's a fun fact:   Bob and John SheetMetalGuy used to ride the school bus together when they were kids.  John is now in business with his father and Bob is now in business with his father.  I love small towns.}

But back to the laundry chute.  I've always wanted a laundry chute.  And a dumb-waiter.  But The Hubs says I can't have one of those.  I've also always wanted a secret passage behind a rotating bookshelf.  Hubs says I can't have that either.  Spoilsport.   But, one out of three ain't bad!  

Well, plus the whole house that he's building me.

Yeah, that.