Stain!

My beautiful raw, lovely, virgin logs are all growed up!  They have a pretty new brown stain.  

I will go on record as admitting that I was wrong.  I did not want to stain the logs.  Yes, I understand that they need some protection from the elements.  Yes, I understand that they were weathering gray.  THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS BABY LOGS!  Leave 'em alone, I said.  

The Hubs didn't listen.  But, he was right.

We are using a semi-transparent stain and the unique character of each log is still very apparent.  The color is a gorgeous light chocolate.  I was wrong.  It is BEAUTIFUL!

F-I-L Jim lovingly brushes on the stain

The Hubs and The Boy are on the other side of the house using the sprayer.  The race is on!

The darker logs now show off the light stones of the chimney even better!

A close up of the raw logs and the newly stained logs

We are now at-home-in-brown-logs!

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.

Aaaaaand..... we're in!!



Hey, you guys!!  I've been absent from the blog for a month for the BEST of reasons...  okay, also because I'm lazy and have been without an internet connection...   but the main reason is that we MOVED INTO THE LOG HOUSE!!!  

I KNOW!   EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! 

Thanks to a little push and help from our friends Bert and Lisa and my mother, we moved the big stuff out to the new house the weekend before Christmas.  Despite our herculean effort, though, we left quite a bit of detritus littered about the old house which we are *ahem* still boxing up in drips and drabs.  Yes, I know.  UGH. 

But, I digress.  Once we had that major load of schtuff moved out to the new house, The Hubs and I sort of looked at each other and said, "What the heck? Let's just ...  sleep here." 

And we did.  And there was much rejoicing.

My Pennsylvanian sister Ells arrived a few days before Christmas and helped us decorate.  The new house.  For CHRISTMAS.  It. was. wonderful.  You have not seen a happier girl than this girl right here.    On Christmas day, we hosted my whole family for gifting and eating and more happiness.  The only thing that could have made our full hearts even closer to bursting is if Bob's parents hadn't abandoned us and the cold northern winter for the alligator-infested warmth of Florida --  er, I mean, if Bob's family had also been present.  We can't wait for them to return and for all the cousins to experience the joy of log-a-riffic living this summer. 

 To illustrate said happiness, I submit this photographic evidence:

Cooking for the first time in the new house.  With cheese, appropriately.

Hey, I didn't say it was a full, fancy meal.  What's wrong with grilled cheese?

The dining room... with furniture sort of temporarily scattered about.  But - look - a table cloth!

The Boy and The Girl on Christmas morning.  In the log house.  For Christmas. 

EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!   Sorry.  It's still just so awesome.

The stockings were hung by the (unfaced) chimney with care... by an 8 year old whose decorating ideas consist of hanging sparkly clumps of garland on those metal tab things like birds' nests.

Just a gratuitous shot of the interior of the house. 

(This is standing in the dining room, looking through the living room toward the arctic entry/front door.)

Bob and I, finally at home in logs.

[insert door metaphor here]

Today is the start of fall.  Yes, I know that the weather is still as summery as yesterday.  AND that autumn doesn't technically start for weeks.   But for those of us whose employment follows the traditional American school year?   The first day back to school = fall.  The bairns don't return to the rigor of formal education until Thursday, but for me, it's today.   Sooooo...  I was going to whip up some sort of fab-O metaphor about portals to new....   this -- or doorways to the future.... blah.....   but it's 6:00am and I should actually be gathering myself to go to work, so cook it up yourself.

And furthermore, get off my lawn!

[ahem.  sorry.]

The good news is: we spent yesterday afternoon up at The Log House.  The BETTER news is that we put in the new front door.  YES WE DID!!   (and by "we," as always, I mean Bob and FIL Jim)

Sometimes, what makes it possible to build your own home ... er... freehand ...  is that you use "found" materials as you go along.  In this case, the found material is the front door we've been using for a few years.

Hey, it was free.

 
I asked The Hubs last night how we came to have a random extra old steel door lying around.  Apparently, a family friend got it from a store that was replacing it and gave it to my Father-in-Law Jim.  Thus -- free door.

But, rusty old free steel door NO MORE!   Okay, well, not on the front entrance.  It's just getting moved around to the rear entrance for the musicians and vagrants to use.   No, sorry.  That can't be right.  I mean for dashing out in the freezing cold winter to feed the wood boiler.   At least, it'll grace the back door until we can convince the children to give us all their lemonade stand earnings so we can afford another door.  Do you KNOW how expensive quality exterior doors are?   I nigh unto had a stroke when we priced them.  

But I digress.

Here's the old door gone:

Looking out

With a really handsome dude

Sorry, kids.  No college.  We got ourselves a nice front door.

So, usually, when there's work going on up at The Log House, I either hear about it after it's done and run up and take pictures, or take some before and after shots and in the meantime, go about my business.  

But in this case, I stayed for the whole thing.  Because -- well, how long can it take to put in a new door?

Hour ONE.

Apparently, I forgot that it was being installed in a hand-hewn log home.  AND that I have no concept of such things.  Because:  dang.

Four hours later, it's in.  Well, no casing.  And there's an area over the door that needs to be filled in....  but whatever.

Look who's being helpful!  That's right:  me.  

Nice door, eh?

The time we waited while the sausage was being made...  er... I mean, the door was being installed, wasn't entirely wasted though:

The Girl made good use of the new carpet.

Wanna come knock on our new door and pretend like we live there NOW?   'Cause I'm pretending that, too.  

Well, after I pretend that I'm ready for a new school year.  Yeah.  Pretending that too.

Oh, March. March, March, March.

*Sigh*  March, why do you do this to us?

Just when we thought we were about to tap the maple trees....

12-18" of snow in 24 hours.

The good news?  The in-laws arrived back from Florida just before the snowstorm hit.  Welcome back, Mom and Dad!   Here's a shovel.  Sorry.

Guess we're "At SNOW in Logs" now.   STILL.  Ay-yiyi what a winter.

Log ends = flyways

Here's a finished view of one of the corners of The House after The Hubs finished trimming the log ends... er flyaways flyways.*   You learn something new every day.

[*editor's note:  If you scroll down to the comment section below, you'll see that an "anonymous" commenter  *cough*thehubs*cough* corrected me.  Apparently, I misheard the first time.  Eh.  Whaddyagonnado?]

(I know the before and after shots are of different corners of The House, but they all looked pretty similar.)

Before                                                                After

Now those little flyaways  flyways are all nice and neat and tucked in under the overhang of the roof.

Log ends

Maybe that's what we should call our house:  Log Ends.   You know... like "Bag End" in The Hobbit?    I like the idea of a house with a name.  But, since The Hubs and I could barely agree on names for our children, I doubt we could agree on a house name.  Still....

Anyway, what is this about log ends you ask?   Well, if you've noticed in all the many photos I've posted that show the exterior of The House, we never trimmed the ends of the walls.

Until today.

Buh-bye log ends!

Boy oh boy did The Hubs smell like chainsaw exhaust when he got home!   But you know what that smells like to me?    That's right, baby:

PROGRESSSS!

Check, check, check....

It's that time of year again!

It is a gorgeous Pre-Spring day here in the North Country, so we took the snow sled up to the sugarbush to do a little sap check.

But it's just not warm enough up at The Lake yet for the sap to run too much.  Oh, the sap is dripping, but it certainly is not gushing yet like it is in some lower elevations.  So, we didn't empty any buckets, but we did get some nice time together in the woods.   Except The Boy.  He's hanging out in a friend's hot tub today.   Sheesh.

No matter.  The Girl got to pretend she was a fearless snowmobile racer.

And go for a walk with Mommy and Daddy:

And Bob got to spend some time with his True Love.

Oh, and me too.  I was also there.  

Just kidding!  He qualified his "one true love" comment by saying sugaring is actually about third on the list.  And, being a wise woman, I did not ask him what the others were on the list.  I will blithely believe I am both #1 and #2 on his list of "true loves."  I do not need clarification.

But, I'm pretty sure logs and good beer are somewhere near the top too.

Old Mother Hubbard ...

... went to her cupboard to fetch her poor boiler some wood.   But when she got there....

... her cupboard was bare, and so her poor boiler got none.


But then her husband fetched some wood from the big woodshed and made her help unload and stack it.

And this old mother remembered why there were no treadmills necessary 100 years ago.  And that she hates manual labor.  And is lazy.

The end.