With nothing much happening on the ground, let’s turn to the house plans.
I said nothing much happening, but the Road-guys did come out and stake a center line for the driveway, and Larry has logged hours on the phone with the pump people, a surveyor, County folks, and Mark, the Cow-guy, with whom we’ll meet tomorrow.
Meanwhile, this evening, we’ve been fighting to install a new printer in my office. This has nothing to do with the farm, exactly, but I realized that I want to print my blogs in the event that the web host suddenly expires or an electrical storm wipes out my computer . . . I don’t want to lose my record of the big adventure. Alas, we’ve lost the fight, the printer won’t print, and the USB SuperDrive won’t wake up so that I can read the instruction disc. Situation Normal, AFU. Wish sweet Andrew lived nearby!
Right. So where was I? House plans. We’d reached the point where Gordon could go no further with our plans and it was time to hire an actual, certified architect. Enter Rod Graham, long-time friend, a part of the Greater Whitman Crowd, around which L and I circle like a distant planet.
We gave him all the drawings that Gordon had created, talked about our intentions, goals, etc. Gordon said that Rod would have his own ideas, and so it has been. He took the basic elements of Gordon’s work, arranged the rooms in a rectangle instead of a square, lengthened the side dimensions, erased part of the covered porch. Drew the garage and a breezeway connecting it, and suddenly we had a courtyard with what look like outbuildings added on over the century. Magic. Then he, Rod, departed on a cruise to Alaska, told us to think about things, and sailed away.
Okay, think about things. I’ve already pored over a dozen books, consulted my varying advisors on Pinterest — by the way, now Pinterest thinks it knows me and suddenly I’ve become the recipient of catalogs, magazines, emails offering me farm products. One of my faves is from Amish country in Ohio with amazing wringer washing machines, canning supplies. Actually, I love this one and have it piled up with the rest of the library. But back to the theme of thinking. Why not try Houzz?
Good idea. I type in “Country Kitchens,” thinking I’d start small. Ha. Seriously, there are 1,101,204 photos of country kitchens on this web site. Can there be that many country kitchens in all of North America? Better narrow it down. I type in “Vintage Country Kitchens.” Much better. Only 48,903. Doing the math, I find that, at one second per photo, I can get through this collection in an hour and a half.
So what does a kitchen need? A stove, a sink, a refrigerator. Countertops and cabinets, or some sort of storage capacity. Drawers for stuff like silverware and salt and dish towels. Do we even need an automatic dishwasher? I’d say no, but Larry is the family dishwasher, and he says yes, for sure, what are you thinking? Okay, we’ll have the dishwasher.
But while I’m definitely guilty of assembling unnecessary kitchen gear, all this material on Houzz, and even Pinterest, kind of sickens me. A little house, an apple tree. That wringer-washer is starting to seem appealing! Sure, says the princess. But I really do want an outside clothes line. Remember how sheets smell when you take them in out of the sunshine? Are you even old enough to remember clothes lines?
We’re waiting for estimates on building the road. Supposed to be here by this week. The thing is, we want to get the road going before we leave for France on the 28th of Sept. Not looking very promising. It’s going to be hard to be gone for three weeks, even if we’re going to Paris. I know, but I did say I’m a princess.
And tomorrow I’ll be able to tell you what our future in Cows looks like. Please stay tuned!