Had a lot of dreams this night, but the main theme definitely was building the kitchen. I don’t like dreams about stuff that is already happening for real on a daily basis. It makes me think that I didn’t get any sleep at all, and confuses me when I see that all the hard work I did in the dream actually still has to be done.
This was certainly the case today…but I get ahead of myself, so I’d best start over by going back to the moment of my awakening.
The alarm goes off as usual, and I let the dogs out before they go completely bonkers. I linger a little during the morning routine, but get to the house on time, ready to start the day that lies ahead. I’m a little stiff and sore from yesterday’s workout, but while I was writing last night’s Blog, something in my back popped and removed the painful sciatica ache from my lower back and hip, allowing me to move relatively unhindered.
Outside temperatures have improved considerably, and for once I’m not huddling in my warm vest, or hiding my hands inside the sleeves of my sweater. As a matter of fact, for the first time in days my fingers actually feel normal and nimble, which is definitely a plus.
I find myself to be hungry this morning, and start off with a quick breakfast of bread and some orange juice when I arrive at the house. I work the meal down before I start on the day’s laundry. Not too much of that today, so I get through it fast enough to settle down behind my computer within an hour of arriving at the house.
No actual writing again today, what with the impending visit to the vet to see if Djoti can come home, but big brother and I do manage to get through a six page editing session before the time arrives to depart.
Little sister is looking a bit worried, but cheers up considerably when the young vet announces that the operation went well and allows little sister to head on to the back of the clinic while I listen to the basic instructions of medications and treatment when the little Cocker goes home with us.
Still a little dazed from morphine–and the night away–Djoti eagerly crawls into little sister’s arms, settling there as if he has no intention of leaving her embrace within the next week or so as we head back home and bring him inside.
It always saddens me to see how scared the dogs are even after just a few hours away from home. It makes me wonder if they think we’re going to leave them for good, since they’re unlikely to truly understand the reassurances we offer as we leave them. We never would, but still they seem to fear this the most.
With the jubilant welcome of the dogs, I head straight for the kitchen, deciding that I’m going to break in the new oven and make a large pizza for dinner, just to see how it goes. Younger sister joins me in the preparations, both of us standing at a comfortable distance from each other as we slice veggies, knead dough, grate cheese and place it all on the bar–even though it doesn’t have a top yet–well out of reach of the eager dogs.
They are sniffing at the scent of raw vegetables, cheese and even the dough, like they are starving…and that while little brother is dispersing food for them.
The majority actually ignores their portion in hopes of stealing a tomato, a pepper or even an onion when we least expect it.
The new arrangement is working great, I admit, actually smiling as we go through the process of baking the crust, add the tomato sauce and then the toppings before we slide the one by two foot tray in and out of the huge oven. The dogs are unable to reach the food without actually setting their paws on the counter, but frequent warnings and an occasional scowl keeps them from actually doing so.
It takes less than an hour to make the meal, and on the overall we’re all pretty pleased with the end result. Since I’m used to an electric oven, rather than one working on gas, (like the new one) there are some dark patches on the large pizza pie, but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the taste of the dish, which is rapidly devoured by all family members.
While little sister comes down to the kitchen to get her fair share, she informs us that Djoti is obviously thrilled with being home, literally rolling around on top of her bed upstairs before snuggling up against two of his pack members. Little sister is a mite saddened by the loss of Djoti’s eye, not liking the sight of the lid, which has been sewed shut, but other than that she too is happy with the end result. He’s still with her, and at least he’s without the discomfort the bad eye caused.
After dinner and its ensuing clean up, I vegetate in front of the TV for about forty minutes, watching a rerun of “the Closer”, and then while “Cold Case” comes on get up to call younger sister for help and resume the construction of the kitchen.
Having decided that the connection between the steel sink and fake wood counter isn’t going to hold against water spatters, we get the last piece of oak wood back inside and start to measure it.
We’re going to need a stretch of one meter and sixty centimeters for the center bar of the counter, but the rest is up for grabs. After cutting off the section reserved for the bar with the electric circle saw, I’m left with an oddly shaped puzzle piece out of which I have to get the required lengths for the frame around the sink.
In the end I manage to salvage two, one and a half inch wide, strips that’ll fit alongside the steel sink, allowing for a liberal path to fill with silicone, once we fit them around it, like a frame.
What with the wood being old, and used, it takes us some time to clean and sand it, but in the end we get it in place, using lots of glue and several bolts to attach them to the counter so no more water can seep between the seams.
It looks rather good, we find, examining the end result with some pleasure, especially when at that time big brother has shut down his computer and attaches the bar in the center. The design is really showing now, all straight angles, clean lines and easy to reach surfaces. Perfect.
It took some effort, of course, especially when I had to crawl underneath the counter in order to bolt the solid oak to the counter, but it looks good once I’m done and step back to admire the view. All angles and straight lines…a remarkable improvement to the old kitchen.
Next younger sister and I remove one of the covers I placed yesterday, putting some filling between it and the drawer casing to create some symmetry on the front. The strips that are attached behind the cover fit after just two cuts on four of them, and in the end both sides look exactly the same, as was the plan.
One of the big disadvantages of a self-build home is that there are always some inconsistencies in measurements. Walls are slightly uneven, as are the floors, thus making a project, such as building a square kitchen counter, a game of how-to-make-it-fit-properly. It certainly is harder than it would be if everything was perfectly straight, but it’s also more fun since one is required to think liquidly.
Nothing can be fully planned and there will always be unexpected hurdles to overcome, such as the floor making something waddle, or a wall not allowing for a perfect angle. But on the most part, while building, I’ve found that any mistakes made, are really just happy accidents. Something created for one place where it can’t go, fits perfectly somewhere else. It really makes it one big adventure of seeing where something will end up once all is said and done.
By the time we’ve cleaned everything up and put away the tools and such, I settle on top of the now clean counter and smoke a much-deserved cigarette. Around me the sibs are starting on their late night snack, and the hour of the departure for my cabin has arrived once more.
For some reason my dogs are restless tonight as I settle with the computer on my lap and decide to write a page or two for the Cajun vampire story.
I can hear Chaos and one of the labs bark and howl up the mountain, and Dax is impatiently moving in and out of the cabin as he exclaims an occasional screech.
The Pocket-Beagles do have the most annoying vocal cords, I’ll admit. They’re high and earsplitting once they get going, and unless I grab him Dax won’t stop until he feels like it.
I resort to tossing him on the bed after half an hour of this screeching, and hiss dire warnings at him to settle down, by the time Chaos finally deigns to come inside and demand I lift him onto the bed so he can get his beauty sleep.
The Basset will start walking along the length of my bed when he feels tired, looking at me haughtily, with his tail straight up into the air, until I cave and climb off the mattress in order to lever his hefty body up.
Finally I’m back to writing, and am pleased to see that the scene is developing nicely once I get into the flow.
I’ve not failed to perceive big brother’s frustration with the constant interruptions in our writing project. Unlike me, he’s not yet mastered the skill of patience when it involves part-time writing, and it shows every time we have to stop prematurely due to some activity that takes precedence over writing.
I am determined to appease his impatience by adding more to the story tonight, and actually manage the finish two pages before three AM right before I decide it’s time to start on my blog.
My evening has come to an end. I’m pleasantly tired tonight, and am eager to explore some more dreams and hope for one that’ll inspire me for a story in the near future.
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