On head injuries and birdhouses

This last Saturday I helped some friends who were laying tile in their family room.  And by "helped" I mean I demanded that they invite me over so I could learn how to do it, incessantly peppering their contractor-father with annoying questions.

 

Guys, aside from not yet seeing the finished project, working on someone else's house is so much fun. You don't have to feed anyone, or clean up afterward, or even be particularly useful.  You can just whack your head on a granite countertop while vacuuming and hope no one notices.

I actually did that. I'm clumsy! Really, really clumsy. I often run into things or accidentally slam my hands into passing objects, but I just keep walking in the hope that no one notices. I forgot I'd even hit my head until later, when I got a really bad headache. I spent most of Sunday in bed while Greg, like a saint, ran to the store to get me saltines and Advil. I think I actually gave myself a bit of a concussion this time (fun fact: you're not supposed to take ibuprofen if you have a concussion!).

I went to work the next day and I was really fatigued and my head really hurt and my coworker was like, "Why are you so dumb? Go home." I took a monster nap and slept a full eight hours that night and the next day I felt like a new woman. I was so well rested! I was in love with the world!

And I wanted birdhouses.

I'm very much like a magpie--I see something shiny and I become totally focused on it. Because of this, I don't let myself buy something on a whim. I have to go home, think about it, and make sure I really want it. And nine times out of ten, something new and shiny pops up to distract me. But I've been thinking about this photo that a friend LeAnn Locher took:

Yanked with permission from Flickr.

It's been in my inspiration file for a while now. If you haven't seen her blog before and want some serious garden inspiration, head over here. How great is that? The idea of putting just one birdhouse in my yard seems so lame now. I think some sort of structure over here would look great.

This corner has been challenging; it has TWO trees that previous owners tried to cut down, only to have them sucker back to life. It's badly in need of evergreen elements. It lacks anything with height, except when I forget to trim the mystery willow (one of the trees they tried to kill) and it grows a bouffant.

Wouldn't it look better with a pine there? Or maybe a wax myrtle, like the rep from the Audubon Society suggested? And ten birdhouses? Putting a bird on it is so over, guys. Put a BIRDHOUSE on it.

How I learned to embrace the early ranch.

On some design blog or another I found mention of a book called "America's Favorite Homes: Mail-order Catalogues as a Guide to Popular Early 20th-century Houses" by Robert Schweitzer. They recommend it for homeowners who don't know the style of their home. Hey, that's me!

My house was advertised as a bungalow but that didn't seem quite right. According to the book, a bungalow (small b) is a generic term for any small home, so I guess my house qualifies. In contrast, a Bungalow (large B) must meet the following criteria:

1. One- to one-and-a-half stories high. Two-story houses should be referred to by their Stickley name: Craftsman.
2. No basement.
3. Roof sweeping over verandas (that's a fancy name for a porch, I believe).
4. Interpenetration of inner and outer spaces (Any guesses to what this is? Keep it clean!).

They quote the architectural academic Marcus Whiffen as saying,

"The true bungalow is a small, single-story house; the attic space may be made usable by a solitary dormer or by windows in the gables, but anything approaching a full second story disqualifies the building for the title of bungalow in the sense that was recognized by the builders and owners of this type of dwelling. The adjective Bungaloid is applicable also to the numerous houses that do their best to look like bungalows while having a second story--houses "built along bungalow lines" as they were called." [Schweitzer, p. 151]

Whiffen sounds like he'd be a hoot at a party.

So my house isn't a bungalow. And it's not even a bungaloid because I don't have two stories. So I flipped, flipped, flipped and ran into this picture.

 

Holy shit, guys, THAT'S MY HOUSE.

The roof lines, the placement of the chimney, the abbreviated front stoop (which they call "clever"), the wraparound windows . . . that's my house! The picture comes from a 1945 Sterling catalog and the style is a postwar or early Ranch. The house pictured above was called "The Marleen" and it was described thusly:

The Marleen Home is charming and modern--both inside as well as outside. At a first glance, it seems impossible to build so beautiful a home for so little money.  But Sterling Engineering skill, plus Sterling efficiency methods have achieved in this modern streamlined house, a distinct triumph of which we are justly proud. Also note the charming front door entrance with the clever seat arrangement. The door is of the flush plank design.  For the exterior side walls 3/4" x 10" wide siding is furnished.

The floor plan is everything that could be desired. It provides for a large pleasant living room with the modern treatment of the windows. A nice size dining room is included as well as a kitchen nicely located. Floor Plan "A" provides for two good sized bedrooms with a connecting hall to the bathroom and each with plenty of closet space as well as a linen closet conveniently placed. Floor Plan "B" is identical to that of Plan "A" except that it provides for a well arranged third bedroom. And note the modern treatment of the windows in the bedrooms.

Truly a home you will always be proud of.

 Nice sized dining room with a kitchen nicely located? Check.

Two good sized bedrooms with a connecting hall to the bathroom and each with plenty of closet space as well as a linen closet conveniently placed? CHECK.

I like how frequently they admonish you to "note the modern treatment of the windows." Upon realizing my house is not, in fact, a bungalow, I felt like I had just found out I was adopted. But then I realized Sterling was right. My house is, indeed, truly a house to be proud of.

Now my house was built in 1938, seven years prior to The Marleen. So clearly Sterling is a bunch of copycatters.

Spring fever!

I've been so starved for action in the garden that I've been running into the backyard when I get home from work and scanning the ground for emerging bulbs.  Since it was only January I was always disappointed.

But!  Yesterday things were happening!

Simple minds = simple pleasures, you guys. February 3rd, I'm gonna kiss you on the mouth.

I'm slowly making progress

The living room is starting to look less like a construction site.

The rug is Sakura from West Elm.  Window coverings as vexing me more than I should let them.  More on that later. 

Do we like?  The white fireplace looks alright, ya?

I have a very exciting life.

I recently spent an evening detailing my dishwasher.  I know, my life is very glamorous.  I saw a how-to on Apartment Therapy about it and I immediately wanted to do it.

Cleaning sends me to my happy place; I'm weird like that.

There was a lot of scrubbing with a toothbrush and the running of a wash cycle with white vinegar, and then I pulled out the panels and decided to try the almond color instead of the white.

I also could have picked avocado green, brown, or mustard.  We had an avocado green fridge growing up that felt so old and uncool.  Now? I think the green looks so pretty.  I remember when we got a new almond colored refrigerator WITH AN ICE MAKER and how I felt like my family was finally catching up with my wealthier friends. Again, I'm weird.

I think it was my friend Sarah who suggested trying to find stainless steel inserts for the dishwasher so it would match the rest of the appliances.  I looked online but they were really expensive, at least on the manufacturers' sites.  But! eBay had panels for $30.  Why didn't I think of looking on eBay before?

I'm probably not fooling anyone into thinking this is a new dishwasher but it least it sort of matches now. And you guys, it's *so* clean!

Habitat! Sweet habitat!

I did it!  The Audubon Society certified my yard as backyard habitat! 

Getting this entailed a bunch of stuff (all of it here) including turning 5% of my available yard (and boy do they measure) over to native plants, disconnecting my downspouts, having a birdbath, practicing integrated pest management (no pesticides), and removing aggressive weeds (like all the Himalayan blackberry).  I had to bicker a little with the woman at the end over heuchera and whether it's native (turns out it counts as a native plant).

There are a lot of benefits to getting certified (like insanely cheap native plants) but I mostly wanted the bragging rights. And I'm still enough of a hippie that I dig being part of a program that is trying to encourage habitat for native species.  It also helps that native plants in the northwest are so pretty.  I'm really excited for everything to start growing again this spring so I can see who decides to fly in and visit me.  This last season was mostly hummingbirds (yay!) and crows (boo).

The rep from The Audubon Society said my front yard would a good contender for a rain garden.  A rain garden harvests the storm water from your property and, instead of dumping it in the sewer, directs it to a densely planted area that allows the water to naturally percolate into the ground, much like it would in a forest.  They offer free classes in Portland so I think I'll sign up and look into it. 

 

Image lifted from here.

I'm so excited!

Quick update on the living room

I spent all day Sunday painting the ceiling and trim, which is a terrific way to spend a lot of time doing something unpleasant with no real visible change.  But then my car door busted and I had to take it to the shop, so I got a bonus day for painting.  At least this time you could tell I had been doing something in there.

Here's a quick reminder of what it looked like before:

I had to repatch an area over the fireplace where I did a bad job the first time--that white stripe will be going away soon.  I'm really digging the white on the fireplace and the brighter white of the newly painted window.  

After I finished painting for the evening I somehow ended up obsessively scraping paint off the wood floors with a razor blade.  All of my floors look like this because the previous owners couldn't be bothered to use dropcloths. 

And the fact that I feel the need to do this is the number one reason that they will have to drag me off to the loony bin someday.