Hello!
So much to tell you (a few of you already know) that I wanted to get it posted!! As I told Lynnie, I'm so damn jazzed about all this I'm in danger of wetting my britches (she got that).
Here's the skinny - You know the plans for the Farmhouse, right? The education and workshop center - wonderful days of extended classes in all thing glass, fabric, wood, clay, etc. Come sit on the porch, yada, yada, yada. Not to belittle this monumental project, but really, the resource pool is finite.
So - we have two trailers FULL of retail and teaching supplies sitting out at the farm plus all the equipment Hunnyman and I kept when we sold Artistry (again - just sitting out there) and all these great ideas. We also are fortunate enough to have an interest (read: part owners) in an 1800 sq foot store front on Main Street here in our little town. The last renters vacated in September, but we still have property taxes and insurance so it's costing us to own it. HELLLLOOO! Let's drag the trailers downtown, set up shop and sell some stuff! We have buildings (seriously, buildings) full of STUFF out at the farm. Remember the big belt sander? All the casting billets? 4' x 8' tables that we built windows on at #25? Etc., etc., etc. What do we have to loose? Some time and a few quarts of sweat? I can deal with that.
The Jack of Arts. That's the name of the new store. Roger is working on a killer logo (I love it) that will translate gloriously into an art piece that lots of you will help to build. It will be fused, stained, torched and painted. To borrow Deuce's phrase, "he'll be a vision". We want to mosaic the butt-ugly awning in the front of the building, too - Karen will lead the troops. We will fuse and mosaic tiles to dress up the facade - Lynnie, me, Sandy, Barbara - calling all kilns! It will be a magnet for curious passers by. How cool is this?
We will need your consignment pieces, for sure. If you didn't know; the average annual income in this little valley is below poverty level, so we won't sell many $500 fused bowls, but I predict things like single layer slumped dishes will be popular, as will simple torch work beads. And of course, the ever popular stained glass sun catchers - but GOOD ones - done the right way. This place hasn't been introduced to fusing, or torch work as far as I've seen. Fresh meat. However, there are 5 - 6 filled stained glass classes taught at the college every semester here. And all those folks have to drive to Tucson or Phoenix for supplies. Duh.
Classes will be scheduled in September and we will be creative about how we teach them. We're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. It's a whole different ballgame here. But getting finished pieces in the window now will start to generate interest. So - classes in all the glass arts, consignment gifts, and hopefully some quilting art and supplies, who knows what else we'll throw in the mix. We're just starting with this idea and will let Jack tell us where he needs to go.
We do have a domain name and I'm shopping for a good, cheap web designer. I have a few names that I will check out, but if you have someone, let me know. - www.thejackofarts.com. I know - it's a gas.
I promise to keep you posted (pun). I'll take pics of the store this weekend and post them. Sorry, I guess this is my first naked posting. As always, I'm open to suggestions and welcome your excitement.
Keep a good thought!
Kathi
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Wah Wah Wah
My apologies, friends, for being a whiny butt. Life IS GOOD!
I saw my longest-dearest-wonderful friend Nancy over the weekend and she is ALWAYS honest with me. It's sort of our deal. She said, "I read your blog." That was all I needed to hear. I knew she meant the one I just posted. I thought I sounded desperate cry-baby on the last posting. Nancy did not argue with me. So I seriously considered just deleting it, but will leave it on while I contemplate my frame of mind and flog myself just a little.
AND... since I spent a little time with Nancy and her oh-so-hunky husband, Mark, I have been simply TINGLING with anticipation and I don't know why. It was like a battery re-charge for me. I don't know what's coming - but something big and amazing. Seriously - I don't get feelings this strong for nothing. Something ALWAYS happens. Something wonderful.
Stay tuned.
I saw my longest-dearest-wonderful friend Nancy over the weekend and she is ALWAYS honest with me. It's sort of our deal. She said, "I read your blog." That was all I needed to hear. I knew she meant the one I just posted. I thought I sounded desperate cry-baby on the last posting. Nancy did not argue with me. So I seriously considered just deleting it, but will leave it on while I contemplate my frame of mind and flog myself just a little.
AND... since I spent a little time with Nancy and her oh-so-hunky husband, Mark, I have been simply TINGLING with anticipation and I don't know why. It was like a battery re-charge for me. I don't know what's coming - but something big and amazing. Seriously - I don't get feelings this strong for nothing. Something ALWAYS happens. Something wonderful.
Stay tuned.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
What's a girl to do?
Forgive me Blog, for I have stalled. It's been 2 weeks since my last post.
Stalled is a perfect word. Roger and I are (once again) wrestling with the decision about what to do with the Big House. We agree on most everything about it. It's old, it needs beau coup bucks invested to make it safe, comfortable and efficient. It's not our dream house (not to say I don't dream about the old gal). There is very little in the house that doesn't require attention, and the majority requires immediate attention. We both agree that we don't see a feasible way to manifest said beau coup bucks any time soon. For you 'Secret' fans, I realize I'm not supposed to worry about the 'how', just focus on the end result. But really. We're talking mucho dinero.
On my first blog I mentioned all the buildings at the farm and said I would get into more detail about each. Well, following are the pertinent facts on the Big House.
The floor boards in parts of the house are broken, so the floor sort of just sinks in spots, and the entire south side of the house actually leans. So we need to pull up the floors (wood, in some rooms) and replace the joists. Hunnyman wants to lift up the entire house and pour a solid cement foundation. My mind cannot even get close to that. But hold this thought because it links to the plumbing... you'll soon see a domino theme unfolding.
The plumbing is old and very very full of the icky red stuff, which leaves a pinhole of passage for water in some joints. I know this because - remember - that's what we found at the water heater (which hasn't gone any further to date, FYI). We figure the plumbing in most of the house is pre-WWII. Ya think it all needs to go? So do we. If we poured a new foundation, HM said he would include the new plumbing in it. I supposed if we didn't, the plumbing would go through the attic (?). That's not something I like to think about - water in pipes overhead.
And now we come to the #1 safety issue: The electrical is knob and post. Which means that if you ever disturb it (within the walls), you better be ready to do the whole house. Which desperately needs to be done. There's lots of electrical running on the outside of the house without conduit, too. At some point, it used to have some sort of felt wrapped around it, but it's pretty much exposed wires now. Again, really?
Now the interior walls aren't a big issue, except that they are lathe and plaster and to re-do the electrical will require big long deep gouging trenches, so rather than patch that (they're all textured, too), Hunnyman will require all the walls come down and replace with drywall (cha-ching). My man will NOT consciously do anything half-assed or even quarter-assed.
The windows are all the old wooden sash windows. The putty is pretty non-existent now. They look really cool from afar, but the only thing they block is an errant mosquito or two. All the panes are loose and the wood is completely deteriorated. Spiders, wind, dust and rain all seem to come and go freely. OK - the rain only comes in one window (that I've noticed). Let's not blame all that dust and cold air on just the windows - you can see/feel it emanating from a few electrical outlets, too. If you're thinking, "Just replace the windows one at a time, Drama Queen!". Well, that whole leaning thing on the south side of the house prohibits us from replacing any windows because if we level the house, the new ones would probably break during the process. Besides, a new window wouldn't fit in these tweaked openings at this point. Two summers ago, I went around all the windows in our bedroom with that expanding foam to seal out the dust, cold, and critters. It now looks like some evil yellow oozing sludge is trying to escape from the inside. But hey - it worked. Needless to say, my aesthetic tolerance has been significantly adjusted since we've lived in that house. Yes, we could caulk all the windows, but I'm not sure how well the wood will even hold the caulk. Again - lots of scraping.
There is gas (propane) in the house for the heater and water heater. There is gas for a stove, but we have electric right now. The heater has never had a place for filters, so who knows how inefficiently it runs - It's only about 10 years old. I don't think there is any safety issue with the propane now that the water heater is out. The house doesn't get unbearably hot in the summer but the monthly A/C bills can still top $300. The heating bills in the winter can be $500 a month (mostly propane); we have as many rooms closed off as possible and we still huddle under blankets to watch TV at night. There is no insulation in any of the walls, and plenty of cold comes up through the floors (a new floor foundation would take care of that, I know). So between the window, floor, doors and walls - the winter can be pretty brutal even while it's costing you an arm and a leg.
The exterior badly needs paint, but first needs to be scraped. Easy, right? Wrong - some of the siding needs to be completely replaced and we would need to take it all off to put a vapor barrier and insulation on before we painted. It's had termites in parts. The wood is so sun damaged, it may be too late. I vote for wrapping it in vinyl -- but again; the first domino to fall has to be solving the floor issues. Get the house level and everything else goes from there. Having said all that - I would feel so much better if she had a new coat of paint on her. Good money after bad? Dunno.
So here we are. Again. Discussing the same issues for the past two years. Six months ago, we had decided we needed to tear her down and rebuild. Here's my hang-up; every time I walk in the front door, it's like walking into a hug. How can I ignore that?
And, in that vein, there are many GOOD things about the house: We absolutely love it -- warts and all. We is the collective of Roger and me, and almost everyone who has ever visited us. I have been enamored with that house since the early 70's. I have ALWAYS wanted to live there. If not for the issue of heat and cool leaving and entering, resulting in scathing bills, we would probably be a little lax in attending the rest of the issues because we do love it so much. And truthfully, 3/4 of the year, it's comfortable. It has a good, solid metal roof and for it's age and cracks and crevices, when these gale-force winds kick up here, all we can hear is the wind. The house stands firm. OK - the windows rattle and the dust comes in, but the house is solid. We sleep really well there.
The front porch is on the leaning side of the house but it's pretty sweet to sit out there during the summer rains or sit on a Saturday and watch the hummingbird wars over the sugar feeders. The kids love to be there when it's raining. There's something about the monsoons on the farm - you just want to get out there in it. This is Madi in her finest rain togs two years ago.
There are tons of cabinets and drawers through out the kitchen and halls. It has a cedar closet in the hall! There are two fire places. One is older and probably needs to be re-lined, but I think they've been used throughout the life of the house (we haven't tried them). All three bedrooms are quite large with lots of windows.
The original part of the house was a red brick school house that was built in the late 1800s. That's my sewing studio. I absolutely love that room. All the ceilings throughout the house are 9 feet high and all the interior doors are solid wood with brass knobs (and a few coats of paint). Troy designed and Ruperto built us a beautiful stained glass insert for one of the doors.
The kitchen is filled with beautiful pine cupboards with black iron strap hinges. It has a great little dining area at the south end that looks onto the porch and the front yard. Two walls of windows surround the dining table.
For all my pissing and moaning about what's wrong -- there's a feeling this house has that may not be there with a new house. I would love your emails (if you know me, you have it) or your comments and thoughts on this posting. Every time Roger and I talk about this, we waffle again on whatever our last decision was. So, weigh in. If you're reading this, you care about us so we value your input.
Lest you think I'm living in a hopeless situation, here are a few photos of the house we're currently in. It's Bridgette's house and we are certainly enjoying our stay there. While we figure out what we are going to be when we grow up.
Big hugs to all of you -- please write soon!
Kat
Stalled is a perfect word. Roger and I are (once again) wrestling with the decision about what to do with the Big House. We agree on most everything about it. It's old, it needs beau coup bucks invested to make it safe, comfortable and efficient. It's not our dream house (not to say I don't dream about the old gal). There is very little in the house that doesn't require attention, and the majority requires immediate attention. We both agree that we don't see a feasible way to manifest said beau coup bucks any time soon. For you 'Secret' fans, I realize I'm not supposed to worry about the 'how', just focus on the end result. But really. We're talking mucho dinero.
On my first blog I mentioned all the buildings at the farm and said I would get into more detail about each. Well, following are the pertinent facts on the Big House.
The floor boards in parts of the house are broken, so the floor sort of just sinks in spots, and the entire south side of the house actually leans. So we need to pull up the floors (wood, in some rooms) and replace the joists. Hunnyman wants to lift up the entire house and pour a solid cement foundation. My mind cannot even get close to that. But hold this thought because it links to the plumbing... you'll soon see a domino theme unfolding.
The plumbing is old and very very full of the icky red stuff, which leaves a pinhole of passage for water in some joints. I know this because - remember - that's what we found at the water heater (which hasn't gone any further to date, FYI). We figure the plumbing in most of the house is pre-WWII. Ya think it all needs to go? So do we. If we poured a new foundation, HM said he would include the new plumbing in it. I supposed if we didn't, the plumbing would go through the attic (?). That's not something I like to think about - water in pipes overhead.
And now we come to the #1 safety issue: The electrical is knob and post. Which means that if you ever disturb it (within the walls), you better be ready to do the whole house. Which desperately needs to be done. There's lots of electrical running on the outside of the house without conduit, too. At some point, it used to have some sort of felt wrapped around it, but it's pretty much exposed wires now. Again, really?
Now the interior walls aren't a big issue, except that they are lathe and plaster and to re-do the electrical will require big long deep gouging trenches, so rather than patch that (they're all textured, too), Hunnyman will require all the walls come down and replace with drywall (cha-ching). My man will NOT consciously do anything half-assed or even quarter-assed.
The windows are all the old wooden sash windows. The putty is pretty non-existent now. They look really cool from afar, but the only thing they block is an errant mosquito or two. All the panes are loose and the wood is completely deteriorated. Spiders, wind, dust and rain all seem to come and go freely. OK - the rain only comes in one window (that I've noticed). Let's not blame all that dust and cold air on just the windows - you can see/feel it emanating from a few electrical outlets, too. If you're thinking, "Just replace the windows one at a time, Drama Queen!". Well, that whole leaning thing on the south side of the house prohibits us from replacing any windows because if we level the house, the new ones would probably break during the process. Besides, a new window wouldn't fit in these tweaked openings at this point. Two summers ago, I went around all the windows in our bedroom with that expanding foam to seal out the dust, cold, and critters. It now looks like some evil yellow oozing sludge is trying to escape from the inside. But hey - it worked. Needless to say, my aesthetic tolerance has been significantly adjusted since we've lived in that house. Yes, we could caulk all the windows, but I'm not sure how well the wood will even hold the caulk. Again - lots of scraping.There is gas (propane) in the house for the heater and water heater. There is gas for a stove, but we have electric right now. The heater has never had a place for filters, so who knows how inefficiently it runs - It's only about 10 years old. I don't think there is any safety issue with the propane now that the water heater is out. The house doesn't get unbearably hot in the summer but the monthly A/C bills can still top $300. The heating bills in the winter can be $500 a month (mostly propane); we have as many rooms closed off as possible and we still huddle under blankets to watch TV at night. There is no insulation in any of the walls, and plenty of cold comes up through the floors (a new floor foundation would take care of that, I know). So between the window, floor, doors and walls - the winter can be pretty brutal even while it's costing you an arm and a leg.
The exterior badly needs paint, but first needs to be scraped. Easy, right? Wrong - some of the siding needs to be completely replaced and we would need to take it all off to put a vapor barrier and insulation on before we painted. It's had termites in parts. The wood is so sun damaged, it may be too late. I vote for wrapping it in vinyl -- but again; the first domino to fall has to be solving the floor issues. Get the house level and everything else goes from there. Having said all that - I would feel so much better if she had a new coat of paint on her. Good money after bad? Dunno.
So here we are. Again. Discussing the same issues for the past two years. Six months ago, we had decided we needed to tear her down and rebuild. Here's my hang-up; every time I walk in the front door, it's like walking into a hug. How can I ignore that?
And, in that vein, there are many GOOD things about the house: We absolutely love it -- warts and all. We is the collective of Roger and me, and almost everyone who has ever visited us. I have been enamored with that house since the early 70's. I have ALWAYS wanted to live there. If not for the issue of heat and cool leaving and entering, resulting in scathing bills, we would probably be a little lax in attending the rest of the issues because we do love it so much. And truthfully, 3/4 of the year, it's comfortable. It has a good, solid metal roof and for it's age and cracks and crevices, when these gale-force winds kick up here, all we can hear is the wind. The house stands firm. OK - the windows rattle and the dust comes in, but the house is solid. We sleep really well there.
The front porch is on the leaning side of the house but it's pretty sweet to sit out there during the summer rains or sit on a Saturday and watch the hummingbird wars over the sugar feeders. The kids love to be there when it's raining. There's something about the monsoons on the farm - you just want to get out there in it. This is Madi in her finest rain togs two years ago.There are tons of cabinets and drawers through out the kitchen and halls. It has a cedar closet in the hall! There are two fire places. One is older and probably needs to be re-lined, but I think they've been used throughout the life of the house (we haven't tried them). All three bedrooms are quite large with lots of windows.
The original part of the house was a red brick school house that was built in the late 1800s. That's my sewing studio. I absolutely love that room. All the ceilings throughout the house are 9 feet high and all the interior doors are solid wood with brass knobs (and a few coats of paint). Troy designed and Ruperto built us a beautiful stained glass insert for one of the doors.The kitchen is filled with beautiful pine cupboards with black iron strap hinges. It has a great little dining area at the south end that looks onto the porch and the front yard. Two walls of windows surround the dining table.
For all my pissing and moaning about what's wrong -- there's a feeling this house has that may not be there with a new house. I would love your emails (if you know me, you have it) or your comments and thoughts on this posting. Every time Roger and I talk about this, we waffle again on whatever our last decision was. So, weigh in. If you're reading this, you care about us so we value your input.
Lest you think I'm living in a hopeless situation, here are a few photos of the house we're currently in. It's Bridgette's house and we are certainly enjoying our stay there. While we figure out what we are going to be when we grow up.
Big hugs to all of you -- please write soon!
Kat
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