Fixer Upper {ours}

Posted on October 28, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

Autumn has ushered in a season of renovation around here. There is probably a metaphor in there somewhere, at least for me who sees metaphor at every turn. I've been documenting the work but if I don't post early mornings that time does not materialize later in the day. Hence, the story has not been told here.

The project that got us into the swing of things again was the sconces. We had a lot of 70's/80's brass in the house when we moved in. Some was bright yellow gold and some was this greener oiled brass, not to be confused with the cottage or tuscan style brown oiled brass popular today. Children of the seventies will instantly recognize….

We have two large carriage lights in our entry which I wanted to keep but have been torn about finish options. We ended up going with dark brown-black oiled brass which goes with the English cottage vibe on the main floor.

The after, below. I am sure I love them yet, but they are improved considerably and the finish is consistent with what we have chosen for faucets and fixtures elsewhere in the house.

We got our toes wet beginning the main floor painting since we moved some large furniture into the space and didn't want to move it later if possible. It was a hair-pulling ordeal for me to find the perfect sand color. Who knew? We brought home a ridiculous number of samples (per my husband) and one after another had distinct undertones of yellow or gray. We finally settled on this:

From Valspar's National Historic Trust line this is Cliveden Sand. I heart it. So much! Morning, noon, and night it has me swooning. (I'm a little sensitive to color. ; ))

We have much more to paint in that room but had to break off while we tackle the lower level. Our walkout level was finished in early 80's rec room style when we moved in. It has seen a lot of teen party action in its day. There are currently three different carpets going on down there – a patch of commercial indoor/outdoor sort at one end, then a more recent beige, and finally orange shag. The whole space is a hot mess, let's just say. Needs help.

The trim was a low gloss red oak. Ish. We debated a long time about painting it but the decision was made and we are sooooo happy. The low ceiling space has visually opened right up as we have worked our way around the room.

Up next – that floor I mentioned. That's gonna be a big job. Big job.

Big. Stinkin'. Job.

We are getting back on track with telling the story though.

living the in-betweens

Posted on October 22, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

"I live my days in the in-betweens. In between heart-melting sweetness and meltdowns. In between racing and resting. In between letting them grow and internally pleading them to stop growing. My days take years to pass. My years flit by in what seems like days. In between it all, this life that we are building, is happening….that means the weariness that reaches to my marrow every day means something beautiful. Deep down, I know it does. It means something beautiful. The most beautiful of somethings. Being present to it all, right now, is the best time of our life. Hoping that Mercy will infuse it all, believing that it is infusing it all right now, is the best time of our life.

I know deep inside that there are more moments of exquisite magnificence packed into each day than I am aware of."

Carrie's words here said it better than I could. Do go read the rest and know, deep in your soul, that what you are doing – even if you feel you are doing it poorly – means something beautiful.

Poetry Monday – the crimson leaf

Posted on October 18, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

October

Ay, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.

William Cullen Bryant

Joining Theresa again this week.

Weekending – the pumpkin patch

Posted on October 17, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

My husband packed us up last weekend and we drove down towards the lake to farm country for the day. The further west you go the more the land flattens out and the sky widens overhead. In the middle of that space there is a huge working farm that goes all out every autumn – rides, games, concessions, corn maze.

web (5 of 22)

I admit I am no fun with the actual going through the corn maze. If I was a horse they'd sell me with the disclaimer "spooks easily." So, I sat under a tree and listened to the live music while they navigated. Win, win.

Speaking of horses. Or cowboys. Ok we weren't really but there was roping involved….

web (3 of 22)

Let me just say here how much fun it is to have teens along on these day trips. I love that we can still hang out and have fun together. And who knew he could throw a lasso with such dead on accuracy?

side note: I was pretty excited to capture the wheel in motion. It's the little things, people

Like I said, age does not seem to be a deterrent…..

I was thinking when I saw this corn picture about an article about joy and why it matters which I read this week. The gist is that it isn't reality or circumstances that determine our happiness so much as the lens we view those through. Change your lens and you change your happiness. Different people look at days like this differently. I have looked at them differently at different times and places. You can see that corn in a small person's hair and know you'll be picking it out of pockets and dryer vent for days. (and we did ; )) You can think about overpriced concessions and the heat or wind or the 5000 things you aren't getting done at home or how annoyed you are with a spouse/child/coworker etc. All that impacts how you feel about a day like this.

So we mind the internal filter. We help each other view the world through a happy lens. We document joy and revisit it often.

End of my big thought. Back to pumpkins….

yessss! Day was a success.

Oct 2016 black island farms web (12 of 22)

a strong start

Posted on October 13, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

“Life, within doors, has few pleasanter prospects than a neatly-arranged and well-provisioned breakfast-table.”

Nathaniel Hawthorne

I tend to start strong on the weekends. There is a bit of extra time to try something new or go the extra mile. Pans of biscuits and sausage gravy above.

Bread in a Bag

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

Because Pinterest makes me happy and this looked super easy, we tried a plain yeast bread made in ziplock bags. It worked really well overall. Not too messy or frustrating. If you follow this recipe be mindful of how much flour you add. We added too much but it rose despite that.

Bread in a Bag here

While you wait, try this quick and easy experiment with video here

Concert on the Mountain

Posted on October 5, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

Since we had our Army son home this past weekend we decided to all head up to the ski resort for the last open air concert of the season.

We are nothing if not easily amused. With ourselves, half the time.

It was chilly on the top of the mountain. Auntumn is in full swing without a doubt.

Asher and Kym rode the gondola to the top. I've walked it but tend to pass on ride, especially once I watched them pause over and over to let folks on and off at the other ends.

We love the interior of the lodge as much as roaming around the outside. I want their decorator! The design is surprisingly English for a resort in the American West.

All the bands were great. My fave was the headline act - Leftover Cuties. They had a dixieland/old school vibe complete with honky tonk piano, horns and slide whistle.

I simply suggested maybe he throw his arm around his sister for picture. Yeah…not happening.

king of the mountain….

not mine but I couldn't resist.

A poem for Monday, and where September went

Posted on October 4, 2016 by Kim Halloran-Fry

A September poem for Theresa's challenge, even though it is no longer September.

This poem came by way of a text from my sweet friend who had read it and thought I would like it as well. I did. I do. It made me think back on a month that is largely a blur to me, a month I would normally have savored well, had the circumstances been different.

My Army son has been here. "I have been shooting a lot," I told him. (photography) "You aren't writing as much though," he remarked. It's true. Partly it is because there aren't words for all that has happened in my heart these past few months. When they do come they either choke up in my throat or come spilling out, tumbling over one another leaving me dizzy with the emotion.

We buried my mother in September.

Surely other things happened. So many things. School started. Football and soccer games were won and lost. The trees began to turn. The rain came once more to these dry foothills. Days filled up with activity, one after another, and tended to pass in a stream of consciousness manner, and so it has been quiet here.

When Rebecca sent me this poem though I thought of one September evening when I truly stopped and felt the damp late summer grass brushing my legs and watched my daughter brush errant strands of hair from her sweaty brow as she rested on the edge of her grandparents' corn crib. The mosquitos hummed. Tendrils of grapevine coiled up on empty vines. Moments like those get you through Septembers like this.

I love that she knew this and makes sure I am doing just that.

Storing September

(a poem by Elizabeth Rooney)

You ask me what I did today.
I could pretend and say,
"I don't remember."
But no, I'll tell you what I did today–
I stored September.
Sat in the sun and let the sun sink in,
Let all the warmth of it caress my skin.
When winter comes, my skin will still remember
The day I stored September.

And then my eyes–
I filled them with the deepest, bluest skies
And all the traceries of wasps and butterflies.
When winter comes, my eyes will still remember
The day they stored September.

And there was cricket song to fill my ears!
And the taste of grapes
And the deep purple o f them!
And asters, like small clumps of sky…
You know how much I love them.
That's what I did today
And I know why.
Just simply for the love of it,
I stored September.

Starry Sky Journal

Reflections from Starry Sky Ranch

Monthly Archives: October 2016