Scenes From The Weekend

We took last Friday off of work so made the drive to Wakefield Thursday night. Here are the low lights:

• When we arrived at the house, it was 40 degrees inside. Luckily, there is a little Rinnai gas heater which I promptly switched on while my better half dealt with turning the water back on.
• Unluckily, the gas heater refused to actually create heat. 
• "No problem," you might say if you recall a recent post about the wood stove installation. But did you know that when you get a new wood stove, you have to light four "pre-fires" to set the stove's coating before you can actually use it for heat? Three pre-fires still needed to be set before the flames would be blazing.
• It was like indoor camping on an iceberg.
• When we woke up on Friday as little icicles, we gave the gas company a call. 
• Did you know that when you move into a new house, the gas company eventually wanders by and switches off the gas if you neglect to create an account?
• Did you know that a gas stove requires gas to cook on it?
• Luckily, we were rescued Friday evening by a nice man who reconnected our gas. And actually, by mid-morning Friday, the wood stove was hot as can be and we were toasty.

On to some actual highlights:

• Honestly, at the time, all of the above was like a big fat adventure to me. Simon mentioned afterwards that he was surprised at how well I did, which I sort of take offense to but also totally understand given that my reaction to adversity is generally to crumple into a small ball.
• We're in the midst of our big annual appeal at work, and let me tell you, folding and stuffing hundreds of envelopes ain't so bad when you get a nice view to coax you along.
• Lots of wildlife sightings! A bald eagle coasted around on the other side of the lake before swooping right above our heads. We spied a beaver at the water's edge on Sunday too as well as some hearty ducks still floating around.
• We stacked a cord of chopped firewood on Saturday. Whew. I discovered a) muscles I never knew I had and b) that a cord of wood is basically a billion heavy logs. 
• The stove got roaring Saturday and Sunday and it was soooooo nice. 
• It snowed!
• Looks like the dog has gotten quite comfortable at the house...

Happy Tidbit Of The Day

Well look at this! A poet who recently published a collection of poems about dogs! Mary Oliver's Dog Songs tops my Christmas list this year. After all, dogs, poems and Christmas are three of my favorite things.

The little blurb on Amazon describes the book as a collection of her "most cherished poems together with new works, offering a portrait of Oliver's relationship to the companions that have accompanied her daily walks, warmed her home, and inspired her work...Throughout, the many dogs of Oliver's life emerge as fellow travelers, but also as guides, spirits capable of opening our eyes to the lessons of the moment and the joys of nature and connection."

Sounds worth a read for many reasons. Might even be a good gift idea for all those other people I know that are (perhaps a bit more healthily) obsessed with their hounds.

A Poem For A Friday

  Nuthatch
  Kirsten Dierking

  What if a sleek, grey-feathered nuthatch
  flew from a tree and offered to perch
  on your left shoulder, accompany you

  on all your journeys? Nowhere fancy,
  just the brief everyday walks, from garage
  to house, from house to mailbox, from
  the store to your car in the parking lot.

  The slight pressure of small claws
  clasping your skin, a flutter of wings
  every so often at the edge of vision.

  And what if he never asked you to be
  anything? Wouldn't that be so much
  nicer than being alone? So much easier
  than trying to think of something to say?

Round Pond Renovation

We haven't had to do much large-scale renovation work to the Round Pond house. We purchased it furnished and added a few small pieces of furniture, but basically the interior was right in line with our "style." There were some outdoor DIY projects that we enlisted a hearty crew of helpers for like painting the deck, clearing some small trees, spackling this, drilling that and wrenching some other stuff (clearly, I am tres handy). We hired some local NH help to add a new roof to one side of the house and redo some insulation but other than that, things were pretty decent at closing.

The outstanding challenge by mid-October was the fireplace. When we first looked at the house, I was so incredibly pumped to see a gorgeous stone fireplace as a central feature of the main room. At the inspection, it became clear that it was pretty decrepit...no damper, crumbling masonry, etc. If we were going to legitimately use the house in winter, we'd have to do something to prevent all the warm air from doing a backward Santa up the chimney. So we went the wood stove route. Much to my delight, you can remove the door on this model and use it as a fireplace. I didn't get to experience the installation (that is the wood stove man, Ken, in the after photo below...little NH flavah for you) but I can't wait to get up there and roast my toes!

When Death Comes

It doesn't feel right to write anything. This has been the hardest thing we've experienced and I know eventually those feelings will shift and it will somehow be "better." It won't go away, of that I am sure, but I hope it will change. Eventually we will see the yellow butterflies and the glints of sun off the ocean waves, hear the leaves rustle in the trees and know she is with us in all of the natural beauty she took such pleasure in as she really lived. Of all people I know, MJ lived. She didn't just visit this world, she made it her world -- reveled in the moments and had such a great impact on those around her as a helper, a healer, a friend and a mom.

When Death Comes
Mary Oliver

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.