Waking up to wet leaves from a night rain. Not enough to soak the ground, but any amount is unusual for this late in the year and received with gratitude. Still gray this afternoon and the garden is looking dewy and refreshed. Gophers are a problem. The hens are laying daily now and springtime has them anxious to forage, noisy all day. And they do free range every morning under supervision.
Flock total: 7 chickens, 3 ducks, 2 pigeons/doves
Tomorrow, a tile-scouting excursion. Several rooms in our house will soon get a facelift—the first some have seen in decades. Cabinets from the ‘60s and not in a cool salvageable way. Flooring from some undetermined era. Remnants of the design-flustered seeking safety in the bland and untextured. Walls and and closet doors made of mirror that really make me wonder.
Speaking of eras, the microwave blew out on me a few weeks ago. A zap and bright light. The end of an era for microwaves. Also, the end of natural gas. No more gas cooktop or hot water tank. Induction cooking and tankless hot water can’t come fast enough. We installed a mighty electrical service to accommodate future solar. Added an EV charging station.
Over the past few weeks I’ve boxed up three-quarters of the house, plus cleared out a storage shed in preparation for this renovation. Noooo mooooore plaaaaastic. The Anthropogenic obsession with ocean-bound plastic is a dagger in my heart. Bye plastic, bye. I’ve donated boxes upon boxes of Province Vintage inventory and I’ll relaunch in late fall with a tighter focus and heightened curation. Province Vintage will better reflect the intent and aesthetic of our home and micro-farm; which is to say smart-beautiful and urban-rural. Purposeful and repurposed. I want to see the art & feel the hands that created an object, whether it’s a first-edition book or a blown glass lamp.
The house: practical design that works and lasts. Scandinavian modern farmhouse style. Not the cliched magazine aesthetic, but a real working kitchen. Scandinavian design is timeless because it works and because it honors the outdoors. I’m almost daily washing dirt off the produce I grow—cooking, fermenting, and canning. So I want space, not clutter. I don’t want pointless or sentimental or whimsical, but we also don’t want to end up with an HGTV cookie cutter flip. I want a tough-ass cute-ass kitchen. Tile made in California and appliances made in Wisconsin. Everything real: clay, wood, quartz, glass, and steel. A patio door that lets us enjoy these precious few rainy nights without our living room becoming refuge for moths and mosquitos. Gah, we have a view but we have bites!
So, that and that and that and that and that… that’s all we’re asking for. And oh shit did we ever work hard for it. Especially my wonderful stressed-out jet-set husband. So, yes, oh shit. That’s what my dad used to say when he was exasperated: Ooh shit shit shit. That’s funny. I wrote a poem about it that is forthcoming in (top secret location unannounced).
Here’s today…
Poppies - ‘Frosted Salmon’
A quick video tour of our current backyard superbloom of nasturtium, African blue disc daisy, gaillardia, calendula, hollyhock, nicotiana, onion, sage, and sweet alyssum.
Demolition & design updates in coming weeks.