I’ve moved and everything and nothing is happening. Nothing that doesn’t happen to others, and everything upside-down. Many good experiences with lots of scary feelings thrown in. Also a ton of adult decisions, some with heavy implications, such as cutting down trees, and some that are simple delights, such as choosing a location for my studio desk, and picking out trim for the top of the porch posts.

The cats have settled right in, which I take as a seal of approval.

There’s lots to do in the city to get ready for the big move so this week we whipped up to the house for a quick 24 hours to meet with the contractor and do a little maintenance and tidying.

M decided that the time had come for tackling his “white whale” project – taking down the flagpole. It’s been bugging him with its brazen rustiness and he wanted it gone.

Armed with WD40 and wrenches he set to it. Surprisingly the bolts gave way quite easily. He came in to get the hammer and I followed him back out to document the process.

Feeling confident.

All business.

It’s going well…

When I saw this expression on his face and his arms shaking I worried I was photographing his demise and yelled “D’you need some help?!!” but he was much too focused to hear me. (This is the picture that’s been cracking us up for days. But only because he was not crushed by the pole.)

Success in sight.

I’m still flirting with the idea of flying the Scottish flag (this one, or maybe this one) while M just wanted the flagpole gone so the compromise was to take it down and store it for possible future rehabilitation. The only space long enough was the 2nd floor of the barn which required some leverage,

and more help from me than it would appear from this picture.

All done.

I’m thinking a planter or some shrubs would be good where the base is. That’s if M doesn’t take it out with some dynamite while I’m not looking.

This guy was hanging out on my back step. I left the door open for the longest time, afraid to smoosh him. The eye spots are wild. Anyone know who s/he is?

Rose rightly identified it in her comment as an Eyed Click Beetle. See more information here, and here including, “In hot weather, they are prone to enter people’s houses at night if entries or windows are left opened.”

This one did not “click”, although we did find it upside-down later on, so perhaps it clicked when we weren’t looking.

Ack! Days and days go by with no word from me here.

Truth be told I’m barely holding on to all the threads of my life, it’s so abundant. I’m driving back and forth from city to country, welcoming visitors, weeding and mulching, cleaning, finding contractors, applying to craft shows, filling jewelry orders, and packing and getting ready to move again. I know everyone is busy and I’m tired of using that old complaint so I’ll just say that it’s unlikely I’m going to be “keeping up” here this summer. I’ll try to drop by with some words and pictures when I have a computer handy. Please bear with me through another transition.

The former owners left me some treasures they found while working on the house, and I’ve been discovering others, like this little wasp nest tumbled from the side door frame.

And when I set out to weed the old compost heap it led me to weeding in front of the barn door and then to picking up pieces of broken glass and plastic, which led back to the heap where I sorted and picked a whole lot of plastic and found a rich mix of treasures such as these:

Doesn’t everyone need a plastic three-headed monster? I know I do.

No more waiting, no more finger-crossing – I finally have the key to my new home.

As long as I can remember I’ve wanted to work on an old house and make it a home. Here, now, is the opportunity – I’m surprised and delighted to find myself in love with an 1848 brick and shingle farmhouse in the Catskills. It needs TLC; there are projects calling out for attention from every room and corner of the yard. I spent the weekend wandering from basement to porch to bathroom to wood pile; adjusting the water temperature, cleaning the sink, staring at a patch of mystery ivy (Boston or poison?!), starting my billionth list, sitting down in shock, and then making the rounds again. The thought of all the to dos makes me want to lie down.

Just when I was getting overwhelmed, the local welcoming committee rep. showed up and insisted on rubbing his body all over us, rolled over and showed us the gray spot on his chest, and when I walked away decided to climb my leg!

Thank goodness for friendly neighbors and heavy denim.