Finishing touches

Pending visits from friends helped Brian and I finish that last 10% of projects that were still lingering. We're pretty happy with how it came out - looks even better in person!

Breakfast nook

Kitchen

Dining Room

Office

Dining room from the living room

Living room

Living room

Upstairs hall

1st bedroom

Second Bedroom

Master Bedroom

Upstairs Bathroom

Wendell joins the team

This handsome fellow became the newest addition to the family last Saturday.  He was a rescue from Miami, FL, though with his love of the snow and cold you'd never guess.  He's a Belgian Malinois and just under a year old.

Whidbey was not happy with the new arrangement, but we've been careful with introductions and they are now coexisting rather peaceably.

2015 begins

We're home -- in Vermont -- and it's wonderful.  2014 was filled with so much change, distance, and not-knowingness.  The two of us are together again and, since the holidays, we've done as much as we could with the house to make it a home (while staying sane):

• Repaired and repainted the whole first story (including ceilings)
• Rerouted phone lines
• Rebuilt a wall (aftermath of the sofa/doorway fiasco)
• Built a hearth out of riverstone we harvested last autumn
• Built some odds an ends (a hallway mirror out of reclaimed materials, a hanging lamp for the dining room, a coatrack)
• Made or bought curtains for four rooms
• Refinished our butcher block countertops (without chemicals)

A few other projects are in the works, but I'll leave that for later.  We've scrounged the secondhand and antique shops of the greater Burlington area for furniture to fill the various spaces that needed filling.  In most but not all cases, we've managed to avoid buying new.  Erin's done a wonderful job decorating the place, including unpacking many of my travel things that have been collecting dust for a decade.  Mixed in with that was a long overdue holiday: 2.5 weeks in Ecuador.

To the present.

Winter's on its way out and we're excited for springtime!  In a few days, a box containing 40+ varieties of organic seeds will arrive.  Soap making has begun again.  We've taken an introduction to beekeeping course and will be getting our own hive in May.  The debate is still on about backyard chickens.  I'm a month into a fantastic woodworking course at a local craft school.  Future refinishing projects include making from-scratch milk (casein) paint and experimenting with chalk paint and beeswax-based polish.  I've a small pile of reclaimed wood -- including a gorgeous 3x8 beam -- that I'll be transforming into a console and some shelving.  All will be future postings!

Ecuador escape

After spending months apart during the immigration process, Brian and I needed a bit of a "reset". When we first met, we had grand plans for travel that would take us through numerous countries over the course of many months. But with the big move, new jobs, school, etc... an extended trip together was just not in the stars for this year, but a two and a half week getaway was possible. So not three weeks after I arrived in Vermont, we packed up our bags and headed to Ecuador. We had a wonderful two and a half weeks of reconnecting, hiking, mountain climbing, surfing, and relaxing. Here are a few of the highlights:

Imbambura Volcano - our first acclimatization climb to 15,000 feet. While in town, we had the pleasure of staying at Casa Aida. Aida had some wild stories about Bob Dylan and others who came in search of the wild magic mushrooms that grew in her fields.

First climb (mostly) successful, sleet and fog turned us back a very short distance from the top.

On to acclimatization destination two - Quilatoa Loop.

We decided to hike a few hours from Quilatoa to our next destination. Maps were hard to come by and needless to say we were both a little surprised when we thought we only had to cross a river, but then realized we'd have to make our way down and up the canyon. The best two dollars spent on the trip were spent here (in Erin's opinion) to show us the safest way down.

On to THE climb - Volcano Cotopaxi (19,300 ft). Even though we didn't make it to the summit (altitude sickness set in for Erin at close to 18,000 ft forcing us to turn back), it was an amazing experience.

After spending a week in cool temperatures, rain, and snow, we were ready for something a little warmer. As soon as we got off the mountain, we and headed out towards the coast to enjoy snorkeling, surfing, and sun. Visiting Isla de la Plata was a high of the trip for Brian who spent hours looking at boobies..... blue footed boobies that is.

All in all, a fantastic trip to celebrate being together once again!

Home for the holidays

There is nothing like being home for the holidays. In fact, there is nothing like being home. Period.

Last year, home for the holidays meant a visit to Montevideo, Minnesota - staying in Brian's childhood home, visiting with family and friends, enduring blistering cold weather familiar to anyone who grew up in the prairies - be it on the US or Canadian side of the border. We returned to our home before and rang in the New Year in our relatively (balmy) new home in the Athlete's Village, Vancouver, dreaming of what 2014 would bring. 

I must say, 2014 brought much more than either of us could have anticipated. The year started out rather uneventfully, regardless of being quite full with a Masters degree and full time work for me and Brian busy with work and beginning training for his first ultra marathon. 

In March, I sent an email that would change the course of our lives. Over time, Brian and I had come to the realization that no matter what steps we took to make it work for us, Vancouver would never be "home". One evening I noticed a job posting at Vermont Energy Investment Corporation and knew it was the perfect fit for him. I emailed him to check the iPad when he got home from work, on which I'd left the posting open. He knew the company, and following our vacation in Vermont in 2013, we knew the place was aligned with our future, too. After much discussion, he applied; at the end of a two-month process, he got the job!

Life changed immediately. He was allowed a two-month transition before starting, giving us a several-weeks-long period of undoing everything we'd started in Vancouver, plus applying for my US permanent residency - required before I could officially join. Sadly, the process was expected to take 11-12 months and we never really knew how we'd make that work. Onwards, however. We'd figure out something.

In mid-July, when Brian had to move to start work and begin the re-establishment of US domicile required for his sponsoring me for a spousal green card, it seemed unreal. Our paths would be separating for an undetermined amount of time. I watched as Brian drove off with our cat (my new place didn't allow pets), our (my old) car, and most of what the moving truck hadn't packed up in tow, and I settled into my temporary accommodations with two suitcases of belongings plus Brian's bicycle (mine had been stolen in springtime).

Life was lived separately, with a distance of thousands of miles and three hours' time difference. I began managing an Acute Care of the Elderly unit, once again working with the population that I love so much. Brian thrived in his new job and found new passion in working for a purpose he deeply cares about. Throughout this separation, though, there were many ups and downs, but we were always  together. We bought a 120-year-old Cape Cod in Burlington, we worked through each stage of the immigration process (file a document, wait a month or two, then file another; repeat), and we did our best to connect over time and distance.

During my sole trip out in late September, we upturned half our yard to make way for what would come when spring returns. Brian completed his ultra marathon. We did what we could with two weeks together. Then we separated once again, still so uncertain of when this would end. Brian visited Calgary and Edmonton with me over Canadian Thanksgiving. More time passed.

In late October, we received word that my case was completed and I was scheduled for an interview at the US Consulate in Montreal for early December! As we'd miss our two-year anniversary in the meantime, we extended the Montreal trip into a 5-day weekend and celebrated together in gorgeous Quebec City ahead of the long-awaited interview.

December 9, the big day, arrived. After hundreds of pages of documents filed, police checks, a comprehensive medical exam, after a brief interview I was accepted. Then things moved quickly. The same day I returned to Vancouver, Brian to Burlington. Ten days later, visa in hand, job resigned, and remaining possessions packed into a suitcase plus a box, I flew to Montreal. Brian picked me up. An hour later we crossed into upstate New York. After an hour of paperwork, fingerprints, etc. at the border, the friendly CBP officer processing my documents declared, "Welcome; you're now a resident of the United States."

5+ months apart were over, incidentally MUCH less than originally feared - we were lucky to get through the process so quickly! All of the paperwork, interviews, resignations, and goodbyes behind us, WE have begun anew. Just in time for Christmas. 

Life is so different this Christmas, and I am not sure that we could have even imagined what it would have been like last year. Indeed, it is more magical than we could have imagined. We hung our stockings over our fireplace. OUR fireplace. Our tree was too tall for the house, so we improvised and took out a section. We bundle up to face the snow and cold (OK - it's not that cold, but after living in Vancouver for almost five years...). We put up Christmas lights outside. And now we dream of what life in 2015 will bring.

Sofa saga

So this happened:

Why, you ask? Because we bought a sofa.

First off, I have to confess (and my wife would agree) that I make everything into an ordeal. You want a sofa? You buy a sofa! Right? Wrong.

I'm somewhat obsessed with healthy living environments. Petroleum-based fibers and cushions full of flame retardants are, sadly, the norm in the modern realm of furniture. I'm convinced that someday we'll be able to trace some health issues (cancers? allergies? etc.) to our frequent contact with manmade, under-understood chemicals.

I feel like we won the bed battle. I was convinced to do the same for a sofa. Unfortunately, the challenge was formidable. DIY upholstered furniture isn't so easy. And if you've ever looked for sofas sourced with local hardwoods, natural fibers, and cushioning that you wouldn't risk death if you licked, you'd know that you're either looking at $4000+ or trusting one of a few online vendors of questionable reputation.

While a few more mainstream furniture manufacturers mention sustainability, health, or the environment, I've found the majority to be greenwashing. Crate & Barrel, for example, had some lofty statements about soy-based foam and a few other details, but when I checked out labels at the store they seemed no different than anyone else.

Fast-forward about a month and we still hadn't figured out our strategy. Actually, I sort of landed on this: we'd buy secondhand furniture off Craigslist and then pay to get it reupholstered with materials of our choosing. Even if we paid $200 for the piece and spent upwards of $1000 on the refinishing, we'd be well ahead of some of the "green" options. Alas, we're (a) choosy, and (b) no longer live in a major urban area full of secondhand options. It was clear that this strategy would take considerable patience. I possess various virtues; extreme patience isn't one of them.

One day after work (last week), I popped into our local somewhat-higher-end furniture shop on my way home. They had an uber-comfy comfy couch that I'd eyed a couple months back. It was spectacularly orange, and on closeout. Unfortunately, despite these obvious merits it was conventionally built (i.e., it didn't meet our criteria). But f%^k it. We bought it. Having high standards is laborious. We lowered them (this time) in the interest of having a place to sit before 2018.

Done deal, right? Never.

I recruited a friendly neighbor to help me move it in. It didn't fit. Our 19th century house simply didn't have the front doorway to accommodate it. Even had we got it in by removing the header above the door, the upright length of the couch matched the ceiling height, meaning that there'd be no way to tip it down. Our ancient double-hung windows weren't an option.

A day and a lot of head-scratching later, I worked out that if we came in the back porch, angled through the back (kitchen door), tipped down (higher ceiling in this 20th century addition) and lifted the couch above the kitchen island, and shaved 3" off the width of the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, it just might work.

It did. The photos above were what was required to make it happen.

Sure, I could have returned the couch. But that just wouldn't have sit well. This is better:

Seeing that I rented a van for the couch, I multitasked and moved 4000 lbs of concrete while I was at it. And voila, the back drive looks a bit less redneck-y. Sayonara.

Leaf mold

Okay, okay.  It cost more than one'd hope to buy compost to cover our newly-converted backyard-slash-budding-permaculture zone.  So when the autumn leaves began to fall, I was a bit loath to just discard them.  Sure, the city picks them up without charge.  But.  But...

All of that organic matter!...from OUR yard!...how can I just give away all of those nutrients?  That's my biomass!  Yet, a matted yard full of soggy leaves doesn't seem a great strategy.

I did some research.  And it turns out that "leaf mold" is pretty great gardening material.  Here's how to make it:

1. Put your leaves in a pile
2. Leave it for two years

That sounds all well and good.  But I'm just not sure that I'm happy with the technique.  If we had 3 acres, I could find an out-of-the-way corner somewhere for said pile.  Given the plot we have to work with, my vote is for containing it a bit.

It turns out that a better solution, from my point of view, isn't a whole lot more work than this.  It takes a roll of chicken wire and a few 2x2s or 2x4s.  There isn't much to it -- all in, less than an hour's work.  It would have been so, so simple to pay a couple bucks for the wood (and would have saved a stop) but I've developed this annoying habit of avoiding the purchase of any new consumer product unless I don't have a reasonable alternative.  That reasonable alternative is the recycled construction materials shop a few blocks west of here.

Anyway, here you go.  Our leaf mold.  Now we just wait, apparently.  Hold on for an update in 2016.