giving a hoot

I have been having a bad day since yesterday. Do you want the concise version or the long-winded version? Stuff concise. I don't do concise.

I've had my house in Fentonbury for sale since about the beginning of December last year, as you know. In this economic climate I was prepared that it might take a long time to sell it. I love that house and I didn't really want to sell it. But things change and we decided to sell so we could have a better quality of life in our new place, less stress, less work. I put so much love and care into that house for 8 years that it pained me to have it rented and see the tenants not looking after it the way I would.

I was thrilled when, after only 2 months on the market, the first couple who saw the house fell in love with it. They gushed. It was their dream home. They made a verbal offer, lower than I'd listed it for, and I accepted it. I liked them. I loved that they loved the house. I could see them being happy there.

I trust too much, make friends easily, and I'm very honest. I told them everything about the house, good and bad. I thought they loved the house, liked me and Wayne, and appreciated my honesty. I thought I'd found buyers and had made two new friends into the bargain. That's what they said anyway. I was really, really happy.

We had to wait 2 weeks for them to become 'unencumbered' for contracts to be drawn up. Meanwhile we were in touch via emails - they were so excited. Couldn't wait to move in. They became free and the soonest I could see the solicitor to draw up contracts was Monday. I went in, drew them up, on the phone with my 'buyers' talking terms and clauses. They were supposed to come in that afternoon to sign the contract. I was bending over backwards with the clauses in the contract. I liked them. I wanted to help them buy the house of their dreams.

They decided to postpone coming in to sign till today. There'd been fires in the area and they had wanted to go up and have one more look at the house (totally normal) and bring a builder friend to look it over (also totally normal).

We were exchanging emails like crazy, setting up the inspection. The morning of the day before the contract I got an email at 8.30am confirming the inspection. At 9.45am that same morning I got a call saying they were pulling the plug.

Like: What the F@@@!

What happened in an hour?

I thought the bushfires might have scared them. In the eight years I lived there fire had never come so close to Fentonbury. A fire is a fire, and scary, but it sounded worse than it was. I drove up to look. There were burned hills, sure, but trees were still green, all that had burned for the most part was undergrowth in a wide front... And the worst fire in Tasmanian recent history burnt out Hobart, not the Central Highlands.

Again, they'd had 3 weeks in which to change their mind. They'd had 4 days since the fires to re-think the house. They could have voiced doubts. They could have slowed the process down. I didn't need to draw up contracts (and pay for them!) till they'd seen the house again, gotten more sure about it, in fact, being their dream home. They were sure and they had sold their house and needed to be out by May 18, so they want to buy my house asap.

Maybe the sale of their house fell through? I dont know, but I bet that if that was the case it would have been the first thing they'd tell us. Maybe they found somewhere better? Fine. I'd understand that totally.

What I dont understand is a couple who were so thrilled, so certain this was their forever home, that we made such effort to help make their dream come true, suddenly bailing on me like that.

I feel betrayed.

Upset. Depressed.

My fault. I take things too much to heart. I can't just do business. I have to go feel like I've made new friends. I should be more cold and matter of fact - sell a puppy and not make the new owners part of my circle of friends. Sell a house and not give a hoot about the people who buy it.

You live and learn I guess.

Back to the drawing board. The house is still for sale. Its still rented. Nothing changes in our lives, we continue as we were, working the same hours and doing the same stuff. Only a little wiser and maybe a little less trusting.

z

PS. I have a great house for sale. Please spread the word!

turbo chook lives to tell the tale

I have finally finished the huge pastel of Fergus, a highland stallion, Barbara and their baby. I've been working on this since before Christmas. What with visitors, rennovations, work, heat and all the other things going on, work on it has been inconsistent. Then I also had a period of artists block (if there is such a thing. If there isn't I've just invented it). So I'm quite happy that its finally finished. After blogging tonight I'll be wrapping it in acetate and delivering it after work tomorrow.

That's one thing crossed off my To Do list. Phew.

The weather has been much cooler, thank goodness. The fires which had burned around Bushy Park and Westerway are out and there's no more danger of my house in Fentonbury being scorched. I'm much happier with 18 degree C than I was with 39 degrees. Hard to believe the temps could drop that much in a day, but hey, this is Tasmania.

Despite it still being rather warm yesterday the guys (Wayne and Chris) got stuck into enclosing the mud room. They'd only managed to frame in one of the walls last time Chris was here and now both walls are framed in, the window is in place and the outside of the walls is mostly lined. I say mostly cause while I was in the city on errands (mysterious doings I'll tell you about when the time comes) they ran out of nails for the coil gun and called to ask me to bring some home. Of course, by the time I got here with nails Chris had left so the job wont be finished will next weekend.

However, things are coming along.

Of course, its looking rather ugly right now... and not quite as I'd envisioned it. But hey, we live and learn huh? I'd rather gotten used to that area of the house being open. However, a lick of paint and a front door and we'll be in business.

The plan is to make that the mudroom, an area where, once you enter the house, you can hang your coat, take off your boots and step inside through the inside door....

Which will take you through the current teensy weensy entrance area which holds coats and the fridge, through to the kitchen and then through the hallway and into the living room.

Yes... this is actually the back door of the house. But the front door is on the OTHER side, which would mean you'd have to park the car, step up onto the porch and walk all the way round to the other side of the house to come inside. Forget that.

So, one day, the teensy entrance area will become a walk in pantry and the kitchen will be rearranged to allow for a door directly to the mud room, cutting out the middle room so to speak. One day.

The timber is green which means it will need to dry before I can paint it, but thats fine. Its not as if I dont have a ton of things to keep me busy meanwhile. I mean I could paint the whole rest of the house, couldn't I?

Speaking of other things to keep me busy - I went tip shopping today! Actually, after work this afternoon I went to one of my favourite tip shops where I'd seen three old dining chairs for sale for $5.

$5 each! Thats a bargain. Even tip shops are asking a ton of money for broken old chairs these days. I couldn't pass them up. One is broken at the back, another is missing one rung off its back, but they're all strong and stable, not rickety like so many I've seen. A bit of glue. A bit of luck. And a ton of paint and I've got my new kitchen chairs!

Did I mention the kitchen table I got from another tip shop a week ago? Thats still sitting on the porch waiting for me to sand it back and put a new top on it. It'll go well with the new chairs.

My car is a mobile store room. Its always full of things I am taking to work, bringing home from somewhere or need to drop off somewhere. I have a huge collection of 'green' shopping bags I invariably forget to take into the shop. I have extra clothes just in case, and after one memorable day where I was sent on a hiking program wearing dress shoes, a pair of old sneakers and socks. Today I also had 2 of Wayne's carry bags, his work folder, the nails I'd bought yesterday, a paper making kit I need to take to a program at work on Thursday, some drying racks I found at a tip shop for the same work program, 2 jumpers (it pays to be prepared) and who knows what else.

I added 3 chairs, an old picture frame and 2 old boxes (I have a thing for boxes). Then I went to pick up Wayne and he said '"Don't forget we need to get wheat for the chickens and dry dog food"...

Ooops. "Have you noticed the back of the car?"

I managed to squish it all in somehow. Wheat bags and dog food packed around the chairs in the back. At one stage I hit the brakes at a traffic light and everything shifted. I could just picture the headlines: couple killed in freak accident - decapitated by chairs weighed down and given impetus by bags of wheat.

Thankfully we made it home in one piece. 

On another subject, my kids made me so proud today. I was in the office when I heard a racket out the back of the shed and saw them in that 'attack and kill' mode. I ran out of the house thinking they'd gotten one of the ducks again. Our house yard fence is pretty good but sometimes things still manage to get in and we've already lost 2 ducks and 3 chickens to the dogs.

When they heard me yell they looked at me, looked back at whatever, looked back at me and they came to me!!! I was SO thrilled. The bird meanwhile, was a native hen. We've had a family of them move in lately and this one obviously decided to check out life on the other side of the fence where the grass is greener but deadlier.

Lucky for it, my dogs listened to me! While I lead the dogs inside Wayne went and opened the gate and shooed it out.

These chickens are known as 'turbo chooks' around here cause they're native chickens and they run like Road Runner. I think this one might still be running, after the shock it got.

So thats it for tonight. Hopefully on the weekend I can tackle some projects and post pics. For now all I need to do remember to take everything out of the car!

z
 

musings of a wandering mind

The other day while pooper scooping in the yard (something I dont do nearly as regularly as I should given we have 4 dogs who can poop BIG) I found myself thinking about the joys and responsibilities of owning dogs rather than having children.

For one thing, as I scooped the poop I couldn't help but notice that I keep an eye on the dogs' health / bowel movements by doing so. "Ooh, thats a nice firm one"... "Hmmm... a bit soft and dark, wonder who's got an upset tummy" ... "Ah, nice. White and crumbly. Just the way I remember dog poop from my childhood" etc.

I belong to a poodle discussion group (one of many I've been on through the years) and on there discussions about such things as dog stool consistency, shape and colour is a regular occurence. Disgusting, I know. But no more disgusting than, I'm sure, a mommy group discussing diaper contents. Which I'm sure they do.

See, owning a dog isn't that different from having children. Dog mothers and baby mothers talk about the same things - poop, eating habits, cute things their baby (furry or otherwise) does. They brag, they carry photos to show off to everyone they meet. They talk about their babies incessantly.

See? No difference.

The difference is that eventually the child grows up, the amount of care needed doesn't so much reduce, it changes. You may no longer need to feed and change diapers but you worry about them learning to drive, date, smoking, drugs, etc.

I dont have children, thus I'm an expert at how to raise them. :)

With dogs, they never grow up to independence. With them you have to pooper scoop for the entire length of their life. You're responsible for feeding them, caring for them if they're sick, ensuring they eat well and exercise etc. In other words, dog owners are stuck in that 'young child' phase for the 10+ years of an average dog lifespan.

At least with dogs you dont have to worry about them hating you when they're teenagers, crashing the car or taking drugs. And you dont have to lose your figure to acquire them!

The biggest differences, however, surround the fact that as dog owners we can control our babies' sex lives. We can legally, and without repercussions, get them neutered. If we breed them we get to pick their mate. On the other hand, I have never, so far in my life, heard of a mother having to pay a stud fee to some young buck's parents in order to impregnate her daughter.

Or, which is way worse, having to 'take matters into your own hands' (literally) and act as stud master to your inexperienced son first time he mates, to help him find 'it'.

Ewww.

I guess there are benefits to both types of children... I could do without the pooperscooping though. I'm  tempted to train them all to squat on the toilet...

Anyway, enough on that slightly disturbing topic. On to more fun stuff.

A few months ago I found this image in an old magazine. I did what any self respecting DIY-er would do. I ripped it out and put it in a folder of things I would love to try when I found the time.

I kept thinking I needed to find the right box. I started looking. And guess what? We had one in the casita! It was just the right size but it was filthy. It was full of straw and I think a cat had been using it as a bed. It was a home made crate, made with chipboard and with an old real estate sign from Canberra. Who knows how that got here!

First I cleaned it out. Scraped it out, disinfected it. Then I sanded down the edges where it was rough and uneven (someone had been gnawing on it) and I painted it. I dont have any 'in progress' photos as I didn't think of it. I mixed up a colour using white house paint and acrylic paints. I mixed some yellow ochre into the white as I wanted it to be more cream than white, whiter than the cream on the sign, but closer to it than white would be. When the cream paint dried I rubbed in some burnt umber around the edges so it soaked into the dints and scratches.

I didnt have the same kind of magazine/newspaper to line the inside with, but I had tons of old poodle magazines dating back to the late 70s. So I used them. I used PVA glue to stick them down and painted them over with more PVA once they were dry to seal them. The old fashioned show poodle haircuts added the poodle touch and a bit of age to the box. As if it didnt look old enough as it was.

Then I bought some wheels off Ebay and screwed them onto the bottom. And voila! Coffee table/side table/rolling library!

I have a real thing for boxes. This is an old box I found at a tip shop somewhere which was missing one bottom slat. I asked Wayne to add another slat to it for me and he made me a lid for it too! He used weathered timber we had planned to burn when cleaning up around here, but wont ever burn since we use it for projects all the time. He hinged the lid with a couple of leather straps and made a wire latch for it too. I now keep some tools in it to keep them handy in the kitchen.

And then there's the brilliant red box. This was another tip shop find. It was already red when I found it but missing a latch and handle. I dont have any before photos. I did take some but I cant find them.

Does anyone remember the box I made for Scooter's ashes? I wanted something special for his ashes so I went and bought one of those little pine craft boxes from the hardware store. I primed it then gave it two coats of red. The red I bought was true red which was way too bright so I added black till I got the right colour.

Once the paint was dry I painted it with crackle medium, let that dry and painted the final red coat. Since I had red on red, you couldnt really see the cracks but I had a plan! Instead of letting an under layer of paint show through the cracks, I rubbed burnt umber into them. (Does that sound familiar? I do that a lot). I rubbed and then had to damped the cloth and remove the excess, cause trust me, there was a lot of it. It gave the box an old kind of grimy appearance. I loved it. It now sits in the bedroom on the dresser next to my old window/mirror.

Now back to the other red box. I loved the finish on the Scooter box so much that I wanted to do it again. Also, I spent $550 on an antique chinese dresser when we first moved here which is a similar deep dark red colour with aged cracks and I wanted to kind of match that.

Since the red box was already red I didnt need to undercoat or do much to it. I wanted the dints and scratches so I didnt sand either. I just painted it with the same red I'd used on Scooter's box, mixing up a new batch so its a bit brighter. When the reds were dry I skipped the crackle stage and went straight to the burnt umber rubbing stage.

I decided not to put a closing latch on it its very heavy and there's no way you'd lift it. I bought some small red wheels on Ebay, I think they're a bit too small and too red but they seemed like a good idea at the time.

I asked Wayne to make a handle for it out of an old spoon and this is what he made. Excellent isnt i?

I am thinking rope handles on either side for pulling would be a nice addition...

I keep electrical bits in it, you know, all the extension cords, double adapters, timer switches etc that you always have lying around. I've used it as a temporary bedside table, but basically it just looks good with the bonus of being handy storage for those odds and ends I dont have a drawer for and dont want to go running to shed everytime I need something.

I'm currently working on a few other projects but really, its been so hot here that I'm too drained to do much at all other than lie on the couch and groan. They predicted 34 degrees C yesterday but it got up to 39-40C. Thats 104F! Same today. The house is a mess screaming out for a tidy. The To Do list sits here glaring at me accusingly and I sit and blog, thumbing my nose at the dirty dishes and washing to be sorted.

There's a haze of smoke outside cause the wind and heat yesterday caused a few bushfires further up the valley. The plants are suffering and the poor roosters ran out of water halfway through the day. Lucky I checked and topped it up. I spent 1.5 hrs watering the garden and vegie patch yesterday evening.

I kept the dogs inside most of the day to keep them out of the heat. I did have 3 dogs to groom including 2 standard poodles (one being Little Zefi Munchkin from Pagan's second litter). That coupled with the heat ensured I did nothing yesterday afternoon. I didnt even log on and thats saying something! I have an obessive attachment to my computer under normal circumstances.

I better go hang to washing out to dry (and get smoked) before it gets any hotter.

z

desperate measures

The weekend has come and gone and there have been no calls from the chicken man about the roosters. Maybe he just lost our number. Yeah. That must be it. I'll make excuses for him just like every girl who ever waited for a phone call that never came. Maybe I'll call him. Is it cool to call him when he said he'd call us? Will he think I'm too forward?

Meanwhile, I've resorted to desperate measures. So far its not working. We still have five roosters. On the other hand, no one visits any more. Which could be considered an upside since I'm too busy to entertain.

I'm exhausted tonight. I had two dogs to groom, then I groomed Montana and Romeo. One of the customer dogs was a regular little girl who is impossible when it comes to doing her feet. I really must get my database going so I can make notes like 'Do not attempt to do her nails no matter how long they look' next to dog's names. And what I charge them. Have I mentioned how hopeless I am as a business person?

The other dog was a new boy, a schnauzer who wasn't in a proper trim as his previous groomer didn't know how to do it. Her failing is my gain. I love doing specialty trims.

I really love it.

Of course I do. Why else would I have spent over 10 hours a weekend grooming a standard poodle for the ring? Only someone who loves grooming, scissoring, brushing, the smell of hairspray and creating hair scultpures would do that.

When I work on the computer I sit in my little office and the poodles usually lie around at my feet and behind me. Sometimes one of them will come and sit beside me and I'll reach out my hand and run my fingers through their topknot, as much to show them love and affection as to comfort me. I adore the feel of poodle hair under my hands.

Anyway, last night as I sat here blogging I reached out and this is what I felt:

The crunch of crusty muddy bits on a grimy topknot. I'd have said I have no idea what she was doing, but unfortunately I know. She was out there trying to burrow under the casita to get the damn critters that're living under there. I've piled bits of timber and rocks on the spot but she manages to keep going.

So today, after I'd groomed the two customer dogs, I tossed Montana and Romeo into the bath and gave them a clip and scissor. Took me hours! My own fault. I'd let them run feral for ages and last time I groomed them I hadn't brushed their legs. That means that this time, since I didnt want skinny shaved legs (poodles don't look their best with their long legs clipped short - thats the long and short of it. Ha ha.) I had to spend a long time dematting and brushing out, then drying out those legs.

I am so glad I'm no longer showing a poodle. My wrist and arm were aching after brushing out 8 legs.

But the kids are looking great tonight, and feeling and smelling way better than last night! Really, there's just about nothing else in this world as good as a freshly washed poodle (after its dried and the wet wool jumper smell is gone). A freshly washed poodle in show coat is number one, that long luxurious coat and the smooth shaved butt... but a soft, clean poodle in a pet trim is the next best thing. I get a kind of emotional recharge just by hugging my poodles.

Once I was talking to someone who had a realdoll for emotional bolstering. I think I'll stick to poodles.       

Before anyone goes and calls the men in white coats, I'll move onto more 'normal' things. I already mentioned my new addiction to Pinterest. Well, one of the simple crafty things I saw in there which I thought I'd try was a way to make beach glass as inspired by this site. You know, that cloudy blue colour of glass which has been dulled by the ocean.

So, the other day I got out some PVA glue, some blue food colouring and some of the many bottles we seem to have been collecting since Christmas. I had to find some use for them!


First I washed them and peeled off the labels. I couldn't get the label glue off entirely in places and I've run out of eucalyptus oil which is meant to work really well. I did the best I could. Then I used a 60s fruit bowl thing I had to hold the bottles upside down thinking that they'd dry better that way. Nope. The glue just collected on the underside and dripped, leaving a small round blob.

The mix I'd made was very watery, you can see in the photo that the bottles are very pale blue. When I did the next coat I painted the mix on by sticking a finger in the bottle, holding it upside down, then standing it on paper. I almost got a finger stuck in the bottle but managed to get it off without any damage to my finger or the bottle.


When they dried I was really pleased with how they came up. They feel nice and look great. I cant even see where the label glue didn't come off properly. I'm using them as a way to keep/display my bracelets.

They sit on the little cabinet above, which I found in a second hand store a few years ago. It was a bit battered and broken down the bottom as you can see, but I painted it, keeping the original latch, and its been a much loved piece of furniture since. Its been used as a bathroom cabinet, a bedside table and is now a handy little spot to store my fabric bits and pieces.


z