Musings from a Mad Cow

Windows, Kitchen Renovation Headache Number Two

Kitchenwindows

I like bright, natural light (I know you could ask “why do I live in New England?”. I really like bright, natural light when I am cooking. So that seems like no-brainer focus point in planning our new kitchen. But, like some many things with our quirky house, that is easier said than done.

One of the challenges with original kitchen (isn’t it lovely?) was the windows. More precisely, the size of the windows. The kitchen had three windows, none of which were equal in size and placement. Two of them, when push came to shove, were close enough in size that we could have possibly finagled something, but the third one was so glaringly big in comparison that creativity was not an option. And it was so oddly placed that the refrigerator was right in front of it when we moved into the place.

Long story short, we were left with two options: keep the windos and arrange in countertops in some creative fashion around them; or, get new windows, patch the holes in the siding left by the old ones, and have a more conventional countertop layout. We decided to go with option two.

Newkitchenwindows

Clearly, only minimal patching has taken place so far. But one day, we are going to have to do something about our soon-to-be mixed matched siding. And we’ll just have to hope no one can see this side of our house from the street.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Why there are two words for “Fall”

New hampshire in autumn

On this first day of fall, or autumn if you are in the UK, let’s take a moment to consider why there are two words for the season that starts with the autumnal equinox and ends with the winter solstice. Before you think too hard, read this wonderful article summing up some of the reasons why this season, unlike the other three, has two names. After all, a rose by any other name should still smell as sweet, and the sap from any maple tree should taste just as good on pancakes. But I digress.

Finish reading? Good.

First of all, I already knew the reason why Americans say “fall” while Brits say “autumn” had something to do with when the British started colonizing North America. But those older terms for spring and fall — Lent/Lenten and Harvest— how fabulous are they. Especially Harvest. So appropriately literal. Naturally, anything appropriately literal makes me think of German, and the German word for fall, Herbst, sounds a lot like Harvest.

The article makes reference to romance language names for spring, like printemps in French. If you take that term literally, I get this idea of a sense of newness. The Modern Greek word for spring, άνοιξη, means opening. Perhaps, the most apropos season name is the Greek word for summer, καλοκαίρι, which literally means “good weather”. Anyone who has spent time in Greece in the summer would likely agree with that. It never rains and there is not a hint of the miserable humidity that plagues the East Coast of the US in the summer.

Of course, in New England, there is no better season than fall. Regardless which word you use for the season.

(Photo of New Hampshire in Autumn via Someone35)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Writing Tips from Rebecca Solnit

Quillandink

Thanks to the freedom of Kindergarten, I’ve been doing more writing than I have done in years. I love the Vachette, and I love being her mother, but how I love flexing some writing muscle again. Serendipitously, the universe sent me this interesting list of writing tips by Rebecca Solnit, a writer I admire greatly.

I love the fact the first thing she lists is to write. Write, write, write. The most important thing you can do as a writer is to write. I hear you, sister. And now that I have more time, it feels so glorious to just write.

The other most relevant point she is makes, or at least to my current circumstance, is time. Time, time, time. There was nothing like motherhood to teach me some valuable lessons about time. Like how precious it is, how limited it is, how quickly it flies if you don’t create pockets within the day for a specific task. Because otherwise, it will never get done.

And thus, now that I have time on my hands, I write. Unless I have to look at light fixtures. Then I drink.

(Quill and pen photo via Craig Sheldon)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Intro to our Renovation

Kitchen1

There are some people out there who have a really good sense of design. They can spend hours pouring over pictures of beautiful home ideas and then curate them together into something fabulous. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them. Don’t get me wrong. I can, and do, appreciate the aesthetics of a beautiful space. I’m just bad at creating them. Even more unfortunate for me, Mr. Mad Cow and I are several weeks into a big home renovation project, and all I want to do is stick my hand in the sand until a new kitchen and second bathroom magically appear without me having to make a single decision. Too bad it doesn’t work that way.

In order to afford owning a home in the neighborhood we live in, Mr. Mad Cow and I had one choice: a fixer-upper. So that’s what we did. Our kitchen came with no counters, no cabinets, a hodgepodge of random holes and some seriously hideous wall paper. So, after spending a good six months making do with bookshelves and some Ikea butcher blocks, we contacted an architect and got this renovation project started. Because, clearly, this was too big project for us to handle on our own.

Fast forward several design options, contract bids, and one building permit later, we got to briefly move out (our contractor respects Massachusetts lead paint laws) while the pictured-above beauty got demolished and we got to start our kitchen from scratch.

Guttedkitchen

I wish I could say this whole project is fun, but as I said, I am not a design person. I get easily overwhelmed by too many choices. Fortunately, we’re still very much in the not sexy phase, plumbing and wiring, so my design hand has not been forced yet, but that day is soon coming. And even more fortunately, Mr. MC is a mad cocktail maker, so I can at least look forward to a stiff drink after making every hair-yanking decision. Because that’s what looking at light fixtures is doing to me. Having my refrigerator in my living room is easy in comparison.

Serenity now.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Local Elections and the Power of Canvassing

I Voted Sticker

Yesterday was the primary day for Massachusetts state and local elections. (The Massachusetts presidential primary took place this past March.) Local elections don’t get the same amount of turnout as presidential elections. To be perfectly honest, since turning eighteen, I rarely gave them much thought. I either didn’t bother with voting, or, in the case of local Pennsylvania elections that affected my parents, I filled out an absentee ballot according to my parents’ wishes. Not the best example of informed and active citizenship, I know.

When we were living in Switzerland, Mr. Mad Cow and I always voted absentee ballot in federal elections. Plenty of Swiss elections took place when we lived there, but, as non-citizens, they were mostly a sideshow. Especially the blatantly racist SVP posters. Click here to see what I mean. As expats, it’s all too easy to sit on the sidelines and think “not my problem”, or when it came to the SVP ads, “at least it’s not the US who looks politically bad”.

But now that we are back in the US (at least for the time being; you never really know with recovering expats), Mr. MC and I are making an effort to be better citizens, especially when it comes to local elections. I made a point to vote yesterday, while Mr. MC made a point to request and mail an absentee ballot since he could not go to the polls in person. Then, during the Vachette’s dinner, a Get-Out-The-Vote (GOTV) volunteer knocked on the door to make sure we made it to the polling stations for the candidate we pledged to support. This brings me to canvassing, and the power of a face-to-face conversation.

In August, I did more than put my money where my mouth is. I did some canvassing for the Hillary campaign in coastal New Hampshire. I have to admit to being somewhat nervous about the whole thing, but I went anyway. After I was paired with another volunteer with previous canvassing experience, a 20+ year veteran New Hampshire canvasser gave us all a pep talk and a general introduction to why canvassing can be so helpful for a campaign. In particular, he said a face-to-face conversation can make a real difference in getting someone to engaged in the voting process.

Two days later, at home in Somerville, I got a knock on my door. It was a canvasser for our incumbent state senator who was facing a primary challenger.The veteran NH canvasser was right. I had seen election related signs around town, but I hadn’t given the primary election much thought. By having someone come to my door and talk to me about the upcoming election, I was inspired to get more engaged in the process. I listened to what the canvasser had to say. I did some research of my own into both candidates, and then, most important of all, I wrote the election down on my calendar, so I wouldn’t forget to go vote.

And vote I did. The Vachette was pretty excited about the sticker.

(Phote of the “I Voted” sticker via Dwight Burdette)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

First Day of Kindergarten

1stdayK2

Today is a momentous day in the Mad Cow household. The Vachette has started Kindergarten! She is both ready and excited for this next step, and I am excited for her. I have no doubt she is ready for the challenge ahead of her. She has grown into the most wonderful little person. I may be biased, but just the fact she exists makes the world a better place.

I am, however, somewhat ambivalent about this milestone. As you may have surmised, I have been the primary parent in our house for the past five years. Every family needs to make the best choice for their situation, and in our case, it made the most sense for me to stay at home. For all the ups and downs Mr. MC and I have experienced over the course of parenthood, I have no regrets about my choice to stay home with the Vachette. That said, mommying is physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting in a way that does not leave room for much else. So I’m excited to now have the time and space to do something other than mommying, but I’m also going to miss her. Metaphorically, she will always be my baby, but, now that she’s in Kindergarten, there’s no doubt. She’s a big girl. I hope the world is ready for her.

One more quick thing. I want to make a shout out to neighborhood schools. I cannot begin to say what a luxury it is to be able to walk to school, even in the rain.

1stdayK1

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Serenity in August

Karpathossparkleharbor

Coming back from vacation can often be a downer for me. So just imagine how it felt to come home after five fantastic weeks in Europe visiting some of my favorite places (Karpathos is always a pleasure) and reuniting with some of my favorite people (you know who you are). I had some great intentions about making the month of August awesome. But of course that is easier said than done when you have a major house renovation project ready to start and you plan to live in said house while all the chaos goes on.

Instead, much of the month has been an exercise in the Serenity prayer:

{Deity of your choice’s name here} grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.

In the realm of house renovation, there is much one cannot change. Like when the permit fairy at city hall grants you permission to start your project. Then there are lead paint laws that require you to get your under-six-year-old out of the house for demolition. And let’s not forget all those not-so-sexy structural surprises that come up with a 100+ year old building, i.e. floor joists that need better support.

But at least the project has finally started, and school starts next week, so it can only get better from here, right?

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Northeasterners Always Have to Suffer, Just A Little

Surf at Ogunquit Maine

Considering a day trip to Maine, I looked up the hours for Colby’s, our favorite breakfast restaurant in Portsmouth, NH; and an ideal stop on a drive to Maine. Through my search, I came across a quote-worthy Yelp review:

It is very small, has outdoor seating available, and an air conditioner which is rarely turned on as northeasterners always have to suffer just a little.

OMG! That line about northeasterners and their need to suffer, it’s funny because it’s true. And this northeasterner is guilty as charged. Especially when it comes to air-conditioning. Seriously, you should see how manic I get about the thermostat in the summer.

For the first time in my adult life, I live in a place with central air. In fact, Mr. Mad Cow and I had it installed last fall within a week of buying our house. Boston is not exactly known for brutally hot summers like Washington, DC — central air is definitely a luxury feature in these parts — but summers can be relatively sticky in the city, especially if you don’t live on the ground floor. And let’s be honest. Open windows and fans don’t do much to combat humidity, which can make an already unpleasant heat wave more miserable.

Our unit has two thermostats, one for each floor. You would be surprised to see how many times I find myself running upstairs in a panic if I hear the air-conditioner come on. God forbid cold air is blasting through an empty floor. Then before I go to bed at night, I make sure the thermostat on our main floor is set to a relatively high temperature (85F/29.44C) so there is almost no chance the air-conditioner will come on during the night. Then when we wake up in the morning, I make sure the upstairs thermostat is turned off, and then I open up the windows downstair to fill the air with fresh air. Even on the hottest days, mornings in New England are almost always pleasant.

I admit part of my mania is economic. I just don’t want to pay for the energy to run an air-conditioner in an empty room. I also admit there’s a part of me that is inclined to “suffer”. For what it’s worth, I behave comparably in the winter. Instead of turning up the heat, I usually put on a sweater, or three.

(Painting, “Surf at Ogunquit, Maine” by Edward A Page)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Shattering Glass Ceilings

Shattered glass

This morning I did something I never did before. I financially contributed to a presidential campaign. I have voted in every federal election since I turned eighteen (and many local ones as well), but that’s all I’ve done. And, in case there was any doubt where I stand, I’m with her.

First of all, when it came to voting in the MA primary, Mr. Mad Cow and I found both Democratic candidates appealing. But now that the primary is over, I not only stand with Hillary Clinton, I feel inspired to do something more than just going to the polls on election day. And it’s not just the stakes of the race, and, if you look at the opposing ticket, we have some serious stakes at hand.

It is electrifying to see a woman nominated for president by one of the major parties in the US. Before the MA primary, when Mr. MC and I tried to watch one of the Democratic debates, the Vachette joined us. The debate itself was mostly very boring to her, and clearly, the subject matter went over her head. But she did have something to say about the candidates. She said, “I like the girl. I want the girl to win.”

Now that’s proof a picture is worth a thousand words.

My grandmother sometimes told me women of my generation had become too complacent when it came to the Women’s Movement, that those who of us who arrived post-bra-burning didn’t realize that women still had work to do. Now that I am mother to a daughter, I am aware how right she was. But this election is a chance for my generation to carry on the torch. Also, Mammy did her part for both Obama campaigns. The least I can do is put my money where my mouth is.

And a side note, check out this news clipping about the Equal Rights Amendment in the state of Florida. My great-grandmother Rose Lentz is quoted.

NanaERA

She was born before women had the right to vote. I bet she also would have been moved by this election. And I bet she would have some choice words about the Republican ticket.

(Shattered glass picture via Desertrose7)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss

Back Home

Backhome

After 5 weeks on the road, we are back home. It’s a bittersweet feeling, or at least it is for me. The Vachette is thrilled to be back home with all of her toys. Seriously, if you ever want to enable your child to engage in some quality self-directed play for hours, just take her on a long vacation and then reunite her with the toys she had to leave behind. Mr. Mad Cow and I are both flabbergasted by the way she has occupied herself since our return. It truly has been a most welcome surprise. Too bad I have suitcases to unpack and mountains of laundry to do. And then there’s this whole house renovation project that I have to prep for. No wonder I am less excited about coming home than she is.

Back to this this whole coming home business. There certainly are some perks, like sleeping in my own bed and having a well occupied child, but I would be lying if I said I was thrilled to be back. To put it simply, we had a phenomenal time. And as much as I love Boston, a Greek island it ain’t. So to combat the back-home-blues, I made a point to enjoy some local pleasures this weekend. Like a cold brew coffee at the Union Square Farmers Market. And some takeout from Tenoch. I could easily have spent the entire summer lying on Karpathian beaches, but I have to admit. A burrito tastes pretty good. Especially after a five week absence.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestmail rss