Picky, Picky

I've got a whole list of antique furniture I'd like to bring home to the Einsel House, but I realize it will be years before I could ever find (and afford) all the pieces I want.  The highboy style dressers in our bedroom and Neil's are nice, but I daydream about replacing them with something more Empire style from the mid nineteenth century.   Like the one pictured to the left - it sells on New Year's day at the same auction house where we bought our kitchen island last year.

A couple of blanket chests sell the same day, and I can just see one setting in front of our couch, holding the blankets that for now are just stacked on the floor.

Another piece I can see in the Einsel House is a corner cupboard.  And I've got a few specific requirements for this corner cupboard.  Since it would go next to the open shelves in the dining room, I want the corner cupboard to have solid doors.  The cupboard also will need to be a bit on the small side, as there is only three feet from the corner of the room to the register along the east wall.  In about a year of searching I've only seen a few such cupboards available (and none of those close enough to be convenient).   So imagine my excitement earlier this week when I went on Craigslist and saw this:

And only about 10 miles from us!  I called the phone number listed and arranged to look at the piece after work yesterday.  Charles could tell how excited I was about the cupboard and told me if it was what I wanted to go ahead and get it. 

So a little after five last night I got home, put away my purse and told Charles I had enjoyed chatting with the cupboard's owner for about half an hour, and that he had grudgingly come down to my price.  And that I didn't buy the corner cupboard.   Of course, Charles' first words were, "Why not?".  The answer is that I'm picky.  Walking up to the cupboard I had immediately sensed something was not quite right.  It was made of pine.  And when I opened the upper door and saw the narrow beadboard interior I realized the problem.  A closer look at the hardware confirmed it - the cupboard dates from around 1920, give or take a few years.  It was the right size, the right shape, the right color, just not the right age. 

The cupboard's owner might have just been trying to make me feel better, but when I finally (and apologetically) told him I couldn't take the cupboard he said, "I understand.  I'd think twice myself before putting that cupboard in an 1840's house."   I'm well aware that I'll probably never find a true mid nineteenth century walnut or cherry corner cupboard for the price I was offered yesterday.  But I woke up this morning with no regrets at yesterday's decision.  I suspect this means I'm an antique snob.  If so I can't deny it. 

(And sorry I've been scarce around here.  I've been having fun with some writing of a slightly different sort lately.)
 

In Better News

It's still raining outside and there's been much discussion regarding the stone bridge over the past week, but I'm going to devote this post to other (much less depressing) things that have been going on here at the Einsel House.

First - this arrived in the mail last week to brighten the end of February:

I knew my aunt was working on this (she let me pick the pattern) but I was still surprised when it came.  It's stunning - the stitches are all so delicate yet so perfect, and it came so beautifully framed.  Thank you Aunt R!  The sampler has found a home upstairs already, and hopefully by the next time you're in Ohio I'll have it surrounded by a collection of old family photos.  : )

Another piece of news here is that Charles and I ordered new living room furniture.  We had tentatively talked about new living room furniture for our 10th anniversary this summer but after spending a week quarantined in our living room - with the cheap Craiglist couch we picked up last summer - I suggested we celebrate a few months early. 

Appropriately I suppose for an anniversary gift, there was a large amount of compromise in choosing furniture.  In my mind I could see two wing chairs with a small round table between them against the east wall of the living room.  But Charles was picturing the antithesis of a wing chair - a "Papa Chair" as he called it; think of the largest poofiest recliner you can imagine.  (You get bonus points from my husband if the recliner you pictured has armrests that open to reveal beverage and remote control storage.)

In the end I gave in, our living room will not have any wing chairs.  But Charles conceded some too.  The chair we ordered is a conventional recliner, but it is one of the smaller recliners we found (and he will have to rely on an end table for that beverage and remote control storage).  The striped fabric below is what will be on Charles's "Papa Chair" and we will get two pillows for the sofa in the same fabric.

The paint card is for "Sweet Annie" which is the color of the living room walls and the paisley fabric is what I used to make the room's curtains.  I have extra curtain fabric to make a few additional pillows for the new sofa.  I don't have a picture of the fabric for the sofa, but it is called "Caramel" and that's a pretty apt description.  We have about five more weeks of waiting before our furniture is ready and I'm quite anxious.  I hope it looks as good in our living room as I think it will.

Another room in the EH that is already looking better is the kitchen.  In my last kitchen post I was not feeling so keen about the peach colored doors.  Remember this:

I'm now much happier with this:

That picture is of the back kitchen door, but the front kitchen door is now also sporting a "Flannel Coat" paint job.  I also replaced the tarnished and painted over brass hinges on each door with new oil-rubbed bronze hinges.  I like the new hinges so much that I may have to go ahead and change the door knobs as well.

And yes, I've been contemplating new paint colors for the kitchen walls, but at this point that's a job that's rather low on my priority list.  Much higher on my list of priorities is addressing some lingering issues caused by the recent flooding.  Fun stuff....

House Tour

After last weekend's open house, I thought it might be fun to do a house tour here on the blog as well.  These are candid shots, taken just after church on Sunday.  My apologies in advance for the glare in some of these.  The sunny weather was perfect for the open house, but not so perfect for taking indoor pictures.

First up - the kitchen.

Pictured below is the north end of the kitchen, where we had to lower the cathedral ceiling.  That warbrobe pictured in the last post is going to go in the corner of this room to corral the toys currently overwhelming those MDF shelves that I abhor. 

And the 'kitchen-y' end of the kitchen: 

Most people disagree with my plans to paint these cupboards.  But so far that hasn't convinced me to give up my plans - namely, adding crown molding, painting all cupboards (except the island) off white, and replacing the door hardware, counters (again except the island) and sink.

Moving on to the dining room:

That cupboard in the corner of the room was a jelly cupboard from my grandparents' basement.  In 1997 I stripped the old paint off as a 4-H project.  Last month I sanded down glossy poly finish and put it back under paint.  I love the punch of color it adds to the room.

Next up - the office:

The white chest of drawers between the bookcases was left by the previous owners.  Eventually I want to clean it up, repaint it and change the hardware. 

Yes, we have two computer monitors.  (Charles only consents to living in an old house so long as I consent to allowing his modern toys in said old house.) 

The stacked cabinet on the right side of the above picture is easily the most commented on piece of furniture in our house.  It's also the first piece of furniture I ever bought.  I was 15 years old when I stumbled across it at an antique store in Marietta, Ohio. My parents and I were killing time before I could sign in for the week long archeology camp I was registered for at Marietta College. A "lawyer’s cabinet" was what the shop owner called it, but the price tag hanging from one of the drawers ($750) was too steep for my parents.  We left to check out other shops, but I was too smitten by the lawyer's cabinet to let it go that easily.  Just as we headed back to the van so I could check in at the archealogy camp the solution occurred to me.  I could buy the cabinet.  Myself.  With my own money.  (At 15 this was a novel idea.)

But by the time this solution occurred to me there was not enough time left for me to return to the antique store.  So once I was settled in at Marietta College for the week my parents returned to the shop.  My dad had promised to do his best for me bargaining with the shop owner.  If he could get the price down to six hundred dollars they would buy the cabinet for me.  Cell phones were still a novelty in 1995, so it was a few days before I was able to call home.  Of course, the first thing I asked about was the lawyer's cabinet.  My mom was apologetic, but she told me the shop's owner would not budge at all on his price.  When they picked me up at the end of the week, she promised, I could go back to the shop and try bargaining with him myself.

So I spent the week playing in the dirt and traipsing around Indian mounds.  And at the end of the week my mom made the drive back down to Marietta to pick me up.  When I got in the van I noticed the signature cardboard envelope of a 24 hour photo development place sitting - perhaps too conspicuously - on the console between the front seats.  As mom had to know I would, I immediately opened the envelope and began flipping through the pictures inside.  Somehow she coaxed me out of the van as I looked through the stack of pictures.  She had her camera ready at her side.  And as soon as I got to the picture of the lawyer's cabinet that they told me they hadn't bought sitting in our living room, right between the computer and rocking chair, mom took this picture:

The receipt for the lawyer's cabinet is still tucked in the back of one of the index card drawers. 

Dad had talked the shop owner down to $575.

 

But, jumping back to the present, we're up to the Einsel living room:

(Sorry about the glare in those.) 

And yes, I realize that a clock needs to go on that shelf instead of a picture - an ogee clock to be precise - but I'll talk about that more in another post.

Heading on upstairs:

This circa 1860's child's bed was a perfect fit for the little nook at the top of the stairs.  It originally belonged to my great great grandmother's sister, who left it one of my grandmother's cousins, who left it to me.  The quilt on it is an heirloom from Charles' side of the family.  His paternal grandmother began the quilt in 1953, when she was expecting her fourth child.  Sadly, the pregnancy ended in toxemia (eclampsia).  Baby Joseph Allen lived only one day.  His mother held on for 13 days.  Later, Charles' great grandmother finished the quilt that her daughter-in-law had begun. 

Here's the view of the stairway from inside the back bedroom:

And Cecilia's view from her bed:

Neil's view is through the windows pictured here:

 

And Charles and my room last:

The place has come a long way in just one year.  Still, it feels a bit sparse.  I'm constantly plotting what to hang on the walls and what other pieces of furniture would be a good fit.  Based on my experience with our last house, I expect the finishing details will take me years.  I'd rather live with a blank wall indefinately, waiting for something that feels perfect, than to put up a picture that feels mehhhh just because I have it on hand. 

That's the tour - although it's much better in person.  : )

First Housiversary

No, I haven’t been eaten up by some creepy crawly beastie from the basement. We’re all still here, busy cleaning up from an open house we had on Sunday to celebrate our first Einsel House anniversary. By our count, just under 70 people went through the house. Typically crowds are not my forte, but I must confess that I’m pretty proud of this place and it was wonderful to be able to share it with so many people.

It amazes me to think back to one year ago and to realize how much we have accomplished in just one year. But running out of home improvement projects should never be a problem around here. J The springhouse has come a long way since spring, but we need to finish the roof before winter sets in. And rebuilding the stone bridge has become a priority. The collapsed west side has eroded noticeably in the past year. Inside the house there are plenty of finishing touches to be addressed. The walls are still mostly bare and little things like door thresholds and a few last sections of baseboard need to be replaced. And last week we bought this thing to put in the north end of the kitchen:

The plan is to sand it down and stain it to match the old lab table/kitchen island.  We'll take off that paneling and have open shelves in the middle.  (But I make no promises as to when all this will get done!)



Bat Exclusion, et al.

Thursday night I took the last formal count for our bat exclusion.  The results:

Bats leaving the attics - 0
Bats leaving the south chimney - 0
Bats leaving the bat boxes - 62

I think we've accomplished our goal and can remove the one-way door and close that last access hole to the attic.  But (as the comments to my last post so clearly show!) there's one last step we must take before we can consider our bat issue completely resolved.  Namely, we have to clean up the mess in the attic.  There's bad news and good (or at least less bad) news here.

The bad news is obvious.  Our attic has to be full of guano.  And because handling guano can cause serious illness in humans, cleaning our attic is not a job we want to or should attmept to do ourselves.  I've called a few places who handle this type of cleanup to get quotes and it appears this will be a very expensive job.

Kathy left a comment after my last post asking, "Do you have access to the attic from inside the house?".  The answer to this question is no.  In fact, we don't have access to the attic period.  There are no windows to the attic, no vents, and no opening through a bedroom ceiling beneath.  This is both bad news and good news when it comes to cleaning up our bat mess. Bad news because it means accessing the mess to clean it up will require some type of structural change to the house.  However, it is also good news because this complete lack of access means that the bat mess is currently entirely contained within the attic.  I'll freely admit to looking at our bedroom ceilings and wondering what lies above, but from inside the house there is absolutely no evidence of our former attic residents.  The ceilings are not discolored or sagging.  The only time we found bat droppings inside the house was while working on the exposed stone wall at the top of the stairs (this was also the only time a bat entered the house from the attic).  The top edge of the exposed wall has since been finished, and just to be sure, before we began our exlcusion I ran a bead of clear caulk along the seam where the exposed wall meets the ceiling.

For now, we plan to simply plug the last exterior access to the attic and let whatever is up there stay up there.  Quotes for having the guano removed are quite high, so this is a project we will need to plan ahead for.  We will keep a close eye on our bedroom ceilings for any sign of strain or staining.  And we will keep our eyes open for "bat bugs", who often enter homes after a bat exclusion in search of a new food source.  The thought of these bugs getting into our house is quite disturbing, but I'm hoping that the lack of access to the bedrooms from the attic will keep these tiny blood suckers up in their current home.  The isolation of our attic from the rest of the house is complete - no ductwork enters the attic, nor are there any electric lines or ceiling light fixtures in any of the bedroom bedrooms to provide access.  But we will definately be watching for any signs of infestation.

Ugh.  After typing all that out I'm feeling rather squicky.  So let's move on to some cleaner topics.  So - I mentioned a few posts ago finishing up the back bedroom.  Here's the semi-finished room:

Cecilia is quite happy with it, and the dresser from the Leaning House is a perfect fit:

With Celia moved into her new room I've been able to focus on the hallway, getting the wood floor painted and the handrail and other woodwork finished:

The color and tight grain of the old walnut wood in this house really is amazing.  : )

Kitchen Island

I picked this up for only $250 at a local auction yesterday:

This old school lab table is going to have concoctions of a different sort mixed upon it in the future.

It's 5PM. Do You Know Where Your Mother Is?

When I told my husband this story he just grinned and started humming a song from The Fantastics:

"And children, I guess, must get their own way

The minute that you say no.

Why did the kids pour jam on the cat?

Raspberry jam all over the cat?

Why should the kids do something like that,

When all that we said was no?"

Well, that's close I suppose, but there's one important difference in this story:

"And my mother, I guess, will get her own way

The minute that you say no."

Yep. That version of the song would fit my reality. And like a typical kid, she makes no attempt to act repentant. She's quite proud of herself in fact. And the honest truth is, now that the deed is done I can't deny that (as usual) I'm grateful. But I know you'll be reading this, mom, so I'm going to repeat - PLEASE DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!

It was Tuesday afternoon. The kids and I were at the house but my mom had not arrived yet. I had suggested she take an afternoon off, so I was a bit surpised when she pulled in the drive around six o'clock. I could tell immediately she was in a good mood. She could only stand it for about two minutes before she said, "So, aren't you going to ask where I've been?".

"Alright," I played along, "Where have you been?".

"I was getting Cecilia a dresser," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Okay," I said, "Where did you get a dresser?" (I'm thinking the words auction or garage sale will feature somewhere in her answer.)

Her eyes danced some more as she looked at me and replied, "More like, what house did I get the dresser from?".

That was the only clue I needed. I put down my paint brush and looked at her, "You told me you weren't going to go back in that house."

She grinned back at me and said, "I know. But I had my fingers crossed behind my back when I promised you that." Oy. Of course. "Don't you want to see it?" she continued. And of course I did. So we went out to her van and unloaded the booty. Along with the dresser was a folding step stool and a bed. Here's a picture of the goods (minus the bed's headboard and sideboards, which mom was still unloading from the van):

Celia's definate favorite was the little step stool:

The dresser is adorable. It will fit perfectly along the low knee walls in the back bedroom, and the crackled paint gives it a patina that should feel quite at home in the Einsel House. It needs a good washing, and the bottom drawer sticks a bit, but all in all it is in remarkable condition.

So, why was I so horrified that we were being gifted with such wonderful pieces of furniture? Because to get them, my mother went into this house:

Don't tilt your head. It's the house that is crooked. This picture shows the north and east sides of the house. The entire west wall of the foundation has collapsed, and the house is falling into the hole. It is difficult to get a picture that shows how dramatic the house's tilt is. The chimney that was on the west side of the house collapsed several years ago. The first floor windowsills on the west side of the house are now under ground.

The house first began to lean at least five years ago, although its descent has been noticably picking up in speed over the past winter. It has become semi-famous locally as "The Leaning House". What is remarkable is that despite its pronounced tilt, the house itself has remained remarkably square.

My dad knows the home's owner and about six months ago he arranged for my mom to go through the house with it's owner. This gentleman grew up in the house, but has left it sit empty since his parents' deaths. And as my mom discovered on her first tour, the owner has literally left the place untouched since his parents' deaths. He left all of the furniture untouched. There are clothes in the closets; pictures still hanging on the walls; pots, pans, plates and silverware still in the kitchen cupboards and drawers. All circa 1960's or older.

At the time of her first tour, my mom said the house still felt safe. Once inside, she claimed, you became unaware that the entire building was leaning to the west. However, when she went back this Tuesday (again with the owner present) she said it was immediately obvious that the house is much worse. She even admitted that she no longer felt safe while inside the home. Although the home still appears to be holding mostly square, my mom noted that the windows are showing the strain. Six months ago they were all intact, but several are now broken and most of the remainder are cracked. The place has put up a valiant fight, but gravity is going to win this battle.

So mom, I'll say again (for however little good it will do) - the dresser is adorable, and it will be a wonderful addition to your granddaughter's bedroom, but please don't go back into that house.

And put your hands where I can see them. Please.