Ah, a box of research materials arrived today. The other should arrive tomorrow. So far, no love, but I'm sure I'll be popular with the local historical societies if I share these.
I'm going to go roll in my books now. Detailed reviews once I've pawed them all - I'll let you know what they tell me about this place.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Monday, February 05, 2007
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Reading: Plus ça Change...
Houseblogging isn't new. It's just the medium that's new. Writing humorous (or simply sarcastic) essays about attempting to do things has been around for ages.
Last night I read a short essay entitled Down With the Restoration! about how sickening those perfect-scenario remodelling articles can be. It was written by S.J. Perelman in the 1930's. Another piece of his that I highly recommend is Insert Flap A and Throw Away, about trying to build something from a kit.
This morning I was talking to my mom about it, and she suggested I read Please Don't Eat the Dasies, which is (unlike the film) actually mostly about the Jean Kerr's life in her enormous rambling house, while they are renovating it. It's from the 1950's. Of couse, now that I'm intrigued, we can't find our copy.
Any other recommended readings about living with any sort of restroation or DIY? I'm now dying to know if there's more.
Last night I read a short essay entitled Down With the Restoration! about how sickening those perfect-scenario remodelling articles can be. It was written by S.J. Perelman in the 1930's. Another piece of his that I highly recommend is Insert Flap A and Throw Away, about trying to build something from a kit.
This morning I was talking to my mom about it, and she suggested I read Please Don't Eat the Dasies, which is (unlike the film) actually mostly about the Jean Kerr's life in her enormous rambling house, while they are renovating it. It's from the 1950's. Of couse, now that I'm intrigued, we can't find our copy.
Any other recommended readings about living with any sort of restroation or DIY? I'm now dying to know if there's more.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
How We Came to Rootabaga Country
As a little girl in coastal California, I fell in love with Carl Sandburg's Rootabaga Stories. I loved the open plains dotted with little towns, full to the brim with fields of corn and wheat and beans and squash, with barefooted children in overalls running home from school to help with harvest. I loved the magic of that wonderful fairytale land, with its oddly named towns and strangely named people. The funny stories as well as the sad ones have resonated with me in a way I can't even really express. I've been dreaming of this place that was like Oz, but more real, nearly my entire life.
Four years ago, my mom bought a house in southern Illinois, which is also called "Egypt" for its grainbasket reputation (and possibly where that famous term -too rude to mention here- for the middle of nowhere originated). We're from here, semi-originally (at least since the middle of the 19th century), and Mom has always wanted to move back to where her mom grew up. So she did - she fixed up and sold our little farm on the Mendocino coast, packed up everything and trucked it across the country, doing it all ourselves, because we are those sort of people.
Mom's house is a massive, crumbling pile of bricks, surrounded by trees, on the edge of a town with a name that's truly unique - it was named after a town in Scotland, but we spell it differently. There is no other town with this exact name, and the whole place is full of towns with odd names: names of foods, names of people, grand and ambitious names, and names that seem like they were just nicknames for a spot in the road until someone painted a sign to hang on the way into town. This end of the state has a couple of big interstates, but mostly it is cobwebbed with tiny rural highways, graveled roads, narrow cuts that were clearly made for a Model T to pass another Model T, and you sometimes feel that you are goign back in time as you drive down a little road with a cornfield on one side and little green hill with a little white frame house on the other.
Two years ago, we moved here. I loved the snow in winter, the silence of it as it fell on everything like an insulating blanket. I was enchanted by the burgeoning life of spring, little frogs leaping in the growing grass and the awakening of the bees. Then we suffered through an oppressive humid summer accompanied by the stressful yet lazy songs of cicadas, and went on into a changeable autumn, not unlike this one, that runs hot to cold, punctuated by rainstorms that blot out everything around us.
There is so much green here, so much life, it is like places farther down the great rivers, but not so dripping with sweat. This country is all about the growing of things, and a little of the taking of things out of the ground. It's slow and quiet, gentle and neighborly. No high-speed city life is here - you have to drive to St. Louis for that, as well as any unusual shopping needs. The fastest, or slowest, thing around here is often the train.
A few weeks ago, I realized I had come to Rootabaga Country, or a part of it, or somewhere nearby. I think it might have been when I was working on the historical society website, organizing hundreds of old photos in the archive, and I found myself staring into the faces those same little kids in their overalls, looking ready to run home to cut the corn down, or bring in the cows. It might have been when I walked my little boy to school along a gravelled drive for the first time.
Maybe it was really the day I saw the dragonflies dance in the fading autumn sunlight last year, or when I saw the bees break off to go somewhere new. It might have been the day I found a large praying mantis sitting neatly on my lampshade - they always sit neatly - delicately eating some little bug. Possibly it was the day I looked out the back to see the woodchucks - three of them - eating the fallen persimmons and apples in the grass. Or, really all of these things and many more.
I'm in love with this place. It's easily as magic as any I read about as a child, and the people, well, they aren't any less interesting or freindly.
I think we might stay.
Four years ago, my mom bought a house in southern Illinois, which is also called "Egypt" for its grainbasket reputation (and possibly where that famous term -too rude to mention here- for the middle of nowhere originated). We're from here, semi-originally (at least since the middle of the 19th century), and Mom has always wanted to move back to where her mom grew up. So she did - she fixed up and sold our little farm on the Mendocino coast, packed up everything and trucked it across the country, doing it all ourselves, because we are those sort of people.
Mom's house is a massive, crumbling pile of bricks, surrounded by trees, on the edge of a town with a name that's truly unique - it was named after a town in Scotland, but we spell it differently. There is no other town with this exact name, and the whole place is full of towns with odd names: names of foods, names of people, grand and ambitious names, and names that seem like they were just nicknames for a spot in the road until someone painted a sign to hang on the way into town. This end of the state has a couple of big interstates, but mostly it is cobwebbed with tiny rural highways, graveled roads, narrow cuts that were clearly made for a Model T to pass another Model T, and you sometimes feel that you are goign back in time as you drive down a little road with a cornfield on one side and little green hill with a little white frame house on the other.
Two years ago, we moved here. I loved the snow in winter, the silence of it as it fell on everything like an insulating blanket. I was enchanted by the burgeoning life of spring, little frogs leaping in the growing grass and the awakening of the bees. Then we suffered through an oppressive humid summer accompanied by the stressful yet lazy songs of cicadas, and went on into a changeable autumn, not unlike this one, that runs hot to cold, punctuated by rainstorms that blot out everything around us.
There is so much green here, so much life, it is like places farther down the great rivers, but not so dripping with sweat. This country is all about the growing of things, and a little of the taking of things out of the ground. It's slow and quiet, gentle and neighborly. No high-speed city life is here - you have to drive to St. Louis for that, as well as any unusual shopping needs. The fastest, or slowest, thing around here is often the train.
A few weeks ago, I realized I had come to Rootabaga Country, or a part of it, or somewhere nearby. I think it might have been when I was working on the historical society website, organizing hundreds of old photos in the archive, and I found myself staring into the faces those same little kids in their overalls, looking ready to run home to cut the corn down, or bring in the cows. It might have been when I walked my little boy to school along a gravelled drive for the first time.
Maybe it was really the day I saw the dragonflies dance in the fading autumn sunlight last year, or when I saw the bees break off to go somewhere new. It might have been the day I found a large praying mantis sitting neatly on my lampshade - they always sit neatly - delicately eating some little bug. Possibly it was the day I looked out the back to see the woodchucks - three of them - eating the fallen persimmons and apples in the grass. Or, really all of these things and many more.
I'm in love with this place. It's easily as magic as any I read about as a child, and the people, well, they aren't any less interesting or freindly.
I think we might stay.
Friday, September 15, 2006
I must be psychic.
Many months ago, I wrote this:
Wow, was I ever right. Last night we pretty much rebuilt the dining room wall where it meets the bay addition. There were beams, and jacks, and pain. My back hurts, and I bet K's head hurts. The planned posts are in now, and the look as nice as I thought they might, even without the mouldings and with unfinished walls.
We used 2 boxes of screws, and we are going to use more when we finish the job. We spent 50 bucks on securing hardware to prevent wigglyness today.
As an aside, while I LOVE visiting the hardware store, I HATE how it eats up a whole day. I also hate how money flits swiftly from our wallets seemingly by our very presence in the store.
It's the price of our passion, I suppose. The house, she demands it, and we must obey.
Also, StuccoHouse noticed that we were mentioned in print. I am shocked, honestly, that anybody reads this at all. It's nice to know that somebody reads from time to time, but I've been just sort of madly raving into the ether for months now.
There's a sag in the diningroom, at the join between the bay and the original construction. Things Must Be Done About This, as it is just sort of hanging in space. I see beams in my future, and screwjacks, and pain.
Wow, was I ever right. Last night we pretty much rebuilt the dining room wall where it meets the bay addition. There were beams, and jacks, and pain. My back hurts, and I bet K's head hurts. The planned posts are in now, and the look as nice as I thought they might, even without the mouldings and with unfinished walls.
We used 2 boxes of screws, and we are going to use more when we finish the job. We spent 50 bucks on securing hardware to prevent wigglyness today.
As an aside, while I LOVE visiting the hardware store, I HATE how it eats up a whole day. I also hate how money flits swiftly from our wallets seemingly by our very presence in the store.
It's the price of our passion, I suppose. The house, she demands it, and we must obey.
Also, StuccoHouse noticed that we were mentioned in print. I am shocked, honestly, that anybody reads this at all. It's nice to know that somebody reads from time to time, but I've been just sort of madly raving into the ether for months now.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Renovating the Blog
I'm thinking that, now we have accomplished something (Power! Which means we can turn on the gas soon - Hot Water!) and are approaching done-ness on several others, it may no longer be simply depressing to have a project tracker widget on here. So I might just add one. One of those bars will be labelled "moving in" as I think it will take us a few weeks to really get settled.
Also, I was watching HGTV and the DIY network and thinking (this gets dangerous, what with the smoke pouring from my ears and all) about doing a weekly how-to feature on here, just give me something to do while feeding BabyJames other than watching tv. It would be more of a "how I did this" with step-by-step instructions for those who might be facing the same things. Like how to live with (or just plain refinish) old steel kitchen cabinets, doing a successful wall application of stickytiles, or faking a built-in. Stuff like that. The temporary stuff, the superficial stuff, the decorative stuff.
In other news, DOver books emailed me that they've got some new Architecture books out. Go take a look. I've already spotted at least four that I want, and only one that I need. And they've got a 25% off sale on as well.
Also, I was watching HGTV and the DIY network and thinking (this gets dangerous, what with the smoke pouring from my ears and all) about doing a weekly how-to feature on here, just give me something to do while feeding BabyJames other than watching tv. It would be more of a "how I did this" with step-by-step instructions for those who might be facing the same things. Like how to live with (or just plain refinish) old steel kitchen cabinets, doing a successful wall application of stickytiles, or faking a built-in. Stuff like that. The temporary stuff, the superficial stuff, the decorative stuff.
In other news, DOver books emailed me that they've got some new Architecture books out. Go take a look. I've already spotted at least four that I want, and only one that I need. And they've got a 25% off sale on as well.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
More Inaction & some book nerditude
Well, this week has so far been mostly taken up with non-house time commitments - doctor's appointments, historical society meeting, grocery shopping. However, a couple of good things came of it.
First, we now own a copy of the Schoolhouse Electric catalog. WOW! We definitely want to upgrade to some of those fixtures in the future. Lots of them are perfect for our house.
Next, I'm an enormous book nerd. I used to be a bookstore employee, prior to finally becoming a professional graphic artist about 10 years ago. So, in that vein, here is my book geekery for those who care to read it:
Dover Books offered me a Presidents' Day discount coupon ( I saved a whopping 10 bucks, but I had wanted to get some more books for a long while now) and I took advantage of it to buy some references.
And, finally, some I'd like to get:
First, we now own a copy of the Schoolhouse Electric catalog. WOW! We definitely want to upgrade to some of those fixtures in the future. Lots of them are perfect for our house.
Next, I'm an enormous book nerd. I used to be a bookstore employee, prior to finally becoming a professional graphic artist about 10 years ago. So, in that vein, here is my book geekery for those who care to read it:
Dover Books offered me a Presidents' Day discount coupon ( I saved a whopping 10 bucks, but I had wanted to get some more books for a long while now) and I took advantage of it to buy some references.
- The 1912 and 1915 Gustav Stickley Craftsman Furniture Catalogs
- Aladdin "Built in a Day" House Catalog, 1917
- Easy-to-Make Arts and Crafts Lamps and Shades
- Arts and Crafts Designs
This was mostly purchased for the purpose of getting a better idea of the overall look of a furnished Craftsman house. I might keep it, but I may also donate it as I already have a much more practical reference for building my own repro furniture.
I bought this, just in case my house might be an Aladdin, since Rosemary Thornton can't pinpoint it as any particular Sears kit model. So far, I've determined that it clearly isn't an Aladdin, either (all the hardware/details being Sears items is a big giveaway there). However, this catalog shows several light fixtures identical to several that are reproduced by Schoolhouse Electric. If you have an Aladdin, they are definitely the company to get your replacement fixtures from!
Since I've answered my own question, this catalog will probably get donated to the local library. There are probably at least a couple of Aladdins around here, since they were the other major manufacturer of kit houses in this region.
I bought this out of curiosity, and I may actually be getting quite a bit of use out of it. The instructions are for making lampshades (and building lamps and light fixtures) out of cheap, lightweight materials. Very Sexy. Chris has been inspired.
I bought this as I have several other Dover Pictorial Archive books from the Art Nouveau and Arts&Crafts periods. I was hoping it would have new things. Unfortunately, no. Most of the things in it are redrawn from other sources, all of which I have. However, if you want a nice cheap general design ref and can only afford one, it's worth it. This is going to the library, too.
- Making Authentic Craftsman Furniture: Instructions and Plans for 62 Projects
- Authentic Designs from the American Arts and Crafts Movement
- Art Nouveau: An Anthology of Design and Illustration from "The Studio"
- Art Nouveau Animal Designs and Patterns: 60 Plates in Full Color
- A Treasury of Art Nouveau Design & Ornament
I LOVE this book. It's great, and if you have the basic skills and tools, you can make great stuff using the diagrams. It's what I'm using to help me plan my built-in buffet (an eventuality).
This is a nice reference, but mostly really useful for graphic artists and ceramicists. I like it, and it has many of the designs that are redrawn in Arts and Crafts Designs.
Art Nouveau, of course, but I am as much in love with this style as I am with the Arts&Crafts style (which was both a companion and a reaction to it). Lots of great stuff in here :)
In addition to having fabulous designs in it (this is the book from which one of the small historical wallpaper companies drew its lavendar and green bat wallpaper), this book is a great color reference, and while it's title says it's Art Nouveau, it clearly demonstrates the stylistic flow from Art Nouveau to Arts&Crafts and finally showing the beginnings of Art Deco. A great reference for anyone who loves these styles.
This one has lots of designs suitable for making stencils or wall murals from, if you are at all ambitious. Also a great all around graphic reference.
And, finally, some I'd like to get:
- Limbert Arts and Crafts Furniture: The Complete 1903 Catalog
- Arts and Crafts Stained Glass Coloring Book
- Arts and Crafts Stained Glass Pattern Book
- Floral Stained Glass Lampshades
- Arts and Crafts Furniture: The Complete Brooks Catalog of 1912
- Stickley Craftsman Furniture Catalogs
- Craftsman Homes
- More Craftsman Homes
- Craftsman Bungalows: 59 Homes from "the Craftsman"
I just want to get a copy of this because I like the odd combination of basic and wacky that is embodied in this furniture.
See, I'm a big kid, and I love coloring books. I can't come up with a better excuse.
I'm not a glass craftsperson, but I have a friend who is. I really just want to give her this.
I do, however, have a better excuse for this one. I might be able to adapt the designs to the Easy-to-Make Arts and Crafts Lamps and Shades instructions. I can dream.
This is just me wanting to have every available reference. Greed, plain and simple. ;)
I just want to see this one. If I buy it, it will probably end up in the library too.
These are fairly obvious. I want to find a house plan like my house. It might be in one of these books. Ah, if I had disposable income!
Well, also, there are lots of interior images in these books which might be useful in my renovation. But I really don't need to be buying these books :)
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