Saturday, August 22, 2009

Red shag carpet project - Phase I

Hillgrade:

As most of you know by now, we're slowly fixing up an old house in Newfoundland. It was built, we think, sometime around 1875, but nobody is sure. Could be older. Given the state the shores [Upright Post supporting a house above ground level] were in when we raised the house, I'd say so.

  Red shag in living room circa 2007

Anyhow, we finally took the bull by the horns this week and tore up the red shag carpet that was in the living room and on the stairs and along the upstairs hallway. Actually, the upstairs hallway still has it, but the rest is gone. Took it to the dump this morning in the pouring rain. Fellow at the dump said that there's no doubt we're from Ontario because no self-respecting Newfie could be caught dead at the dump when it's this wet. He's probably right.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We had um'd and ah'd about taking up this carpet since we bought the place three years ago. Not that we didn't want it up. Heck, it probably harboured life forms that nobody in their right minds would want living with them. But we had on several occasions pulled up a corner here, a loose bit there, just to see what was underneath. All we saw was plywood, pressboard, odds and sods of other kinds of wood filling in the gaps, and scraps of canvas peeking out here and there. Neighbours told us to expect newspaper in places as well. (We did find newspaper in the walls when we got to them a couple years later). So we knew it would be dog's breakfast once we started. And thing is, once you start, it's hard to stop since one disaster leads to another.

But, curiousity got the better of us yesterday. And we debated the best way to proceed. We decided to pull up just one section and see what we were faced with underneath. If it was too awful, we'd put the plywood/carpet, etc. back again and forget about it until we felt stronger in a year or two.

We decided to start near the kitchen door in what would have originally been part of the central hallway. That carpet bit was easy since it was a separate piece that was just laid down. Two nails held it in place. Easy peasy. Underneath was three pieces of plywood, held down by mostly nails, but also enough rusty screws to give us trouble. And not only were they rusty, but they were bent. Watching them come out of the wood was like watching a flower emerge from the ground looking for the sun. Round and round the head went.


Floor boards as uncovered Aug 2009
Under the plywood, once we swept up the dust of the last 50 years was something painted that I thought was floor boards because there were grooves like wide old boards. I was getting excited, but it turned out to be just painted wall paneling. Up that came.

Next was a layer of canvas - faded, worn, brittle and nasty. Up that came. And lo and behold, beneath that was wood. Wide wood boards. Worn down in the centre by many footsteps. Discoloured in spots, shiny in spots. In other words. Once we vacuumed and swept, they looked very nice. I could live with them like that if I had to. Might want to sand down the old knots that have risen up like pimples to the surface -- or rather that the boards have worn down around the knots.

And so Phase I was complete. We knew what to expect underneath, or at least what to hope for.


  Living room with canvas floor (post chimney removal)
We felt so encouraged, we figured we could take the carpet up from the rest of the living room floor. This section had previously been a room separate from the hallway where we had excavated earlier and underneath the carpet here we found old canvas. See picture at right. Green wavy pattern with yellow flowers. Worn and cracked in places, but we can live with it until we're ready to excavate further. I'm sure I've walked over canvas like that many times growing up. Might even have watched my mother pull a mop over something very similar.

We did find a mess under the carpet around where the chimney used to be. There was no canvas there and the plywood was quite black. Figured we'd better get rid of that asap since who knows what was on it. Probably just encrusted soot, but we didn't take any chances and put on masks to take it up and throw it out in the trailer.

Phase II will come later. We'll work on a section at a time as we feel the urge.


Pink, white and green steps
This morning, before heading to the dump, we decided to uncover the stairs. The carpet was held to the stairs by rods. The rods are held to the stairs by screw eyes that had been painted so many times they're part of the stairs. No way they we were going to get those off in a hurry. So we had to cut the carpet off. Took forever.

But the hard work was all worth it because under the carpet, the stairs are crudely painted in the colours of the old Newfoundland flag - pink, white and green. I love it. And I'm so tempted just to leave it like that. Maybe I should tidy up the edges but maybe not. What do you think? Let me know.

And so, the shagging carpet, er I mean the red shag carpet is no more. It's soaking up rain in the dump as I write. And the living room actually has a lot more light than before. Shows off the paint job we did on the walls a week or two ago.

Once we expose the floor boards, we'll see what we'll do with them. John is tending to want to leave them bare, maybe just some verethane. I'm leaning towards painting them and making a canvas rug for the living room (not anytime soon, needless to say).

Oh, and check out the cushions on the couch. I've been knitting and crocheting since we got here and these two cushion covers are the result. Starting on a lap quilt next. With fish on it.

And so it goes.


Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Sweet William is bleeding?

Hillgrade:

Our garden is only a little less of a mess than it was last year. In the fall before leaving, I planted some bulbs - tulips and daffodils and anything else that was interesting and available at the local hardware store. Neighbours tell us that they enjoyed the display of colour in the spring so I guess something worked. One thing for sure. I'll have to get a volunteer to deadhead the tulips next spring if we're not here. We found out what happens when you don't. They form seed pods. Strange things. I didn't believe it when I saw it and thought they were mummified tulips blooms. I didn't even know tulips produced seed pods. I thought they grew only from bulbs. Of course, Ottawa is not the place to find tulip seeds since the bulbs are whipped out of the ground before the blooms have even fallen. I understand that one can plant the seeds but then it takes about seven years to produce anything resembling a tulip. I'll pass. I cut the pods and put them in a dry vase where they very quickly deteriorated to a white, powdery rotten mass. Guess I'll throw them out and see if the birds like them.

The rest of the garden was pretty much fence-to-fence weeds. And tall. Fortunately, most of them were mature and were easy to pull out, leaving bare ground. I pulled the last of these yesterday. (And got stung by the tiniest nettle I've ever seen. A baby. Barely as big as the tip of the Bluenose on a dime.)

The Mother-of-Thyme that I planted in the fall hasn't died, but it hasn't prospered either. Still five sad mounds, although they did flower nicely. It may be because they're in the shade most of the day and most sources recommend full sun. However, if they survived a winter in Hillgrade, they are most likely hardy enough to withstand anything. I might just have to fill in with some more plants.


On one side of the house is a hill, okay a rise. A rocky rise. Probably eight to ten feet above the level of the rest of the garden. It's covered mostly with grasses, coltsfoot, sheep sorrel, some purple clover, ladies mantle and moss. The lady who lived here before used the outcroppings of rock to clean her paint brush so we have blue and pink and purple hued rocks between the wildflowers. Silas, the neighbour's cat, likes to view the world from this hill.

There is also a growing patch of Snow on the Mountain. I really don't want it and will have to see if I can at least contain it. But pulling it up will be tricky since I don't want to lose whatever bit of soil there is.

Growing among the Snow on the Mountain are Sweet Williams. Lots of Sweet Williams. Pink. White. Deep Pink, and multi-hued Sweet Williams. So many that they were spilling into the area that we want to use for a walkway. I hesitated for days but then decided it was best to just get it over with and I picked the ones that needed to be gone so that John could mow the area. I ended up with two large bouquets of Sweet Williams, one on the kitchen table and one in the window near the stove, for the enjoyment of all who passed.






We then noticed droplets of water on the table near the bouquet. Wiped them up and wondered if we'd been messy eaters the previous night at dinner. By nightfall, there were more drops of water on the table. Just under the perimeter of the bouquet on one side.

That was nearly two weeks ago. The bouquets are still looking wonderful (have changed the water only twice in that time) and we are still seeing drops of water on the table. A day or two ago we were finally able to find water on the plant just above the drops on the table. And again this morning.


So are the Sweet Williams crying or bleeding?


Here are a few more photos: 





Yellow Loosestrife growing up against the woodshed; 




















Yarrow (as a child we called this Dead Man's Flower)














Monkshood which hasn't yet flowered and which I think might be poison if we were to serve it for breakfast.