small change

Spout

Our new faucet is sleek, stylish, and imposing. Since it has been put into its place, I suspect it has also acquired an attitude that is far from sleek or stylish, but still definitely imposing. Not that I can blame it. After all, it was doomed for the flow of high aspirations from the moment of it was cast in its mold in a European country all the way of its arrival to our house in a package worthy of housing gourmet European chocolates.

 

Instead it found itself a faux swan among true ducklings, the ragtag assembly of “home improvements” at the hands of people like us, who are inept at the art of gliding, gracefully or otherwise, on the glassy surfaces of interior decorating. And so our long-necked diva has had to steel itself a little harder to staring into the abyss of a small black sink -- unless it can charm us eventually, into upgrading, for its sake, to a sink worthy of Narcissus himself:

Still, a benefit of this mismatch of faucet and sink is that we get free showers (partial though they may be) every time we  turn on the faucet, which thinks the sink is just way too beneath it to bother going with the flow.

of pigements and dust

It has been some time since the last post, so dust has been gathering on the pixels around here. There has been a wonderful trip to Vancouver during the hiatus. Days blessed with great weather for the wedding in the family that brought us together in a garden tended with love, care, and a dedication to family....

Then, back here at the "ranch," I have been busy with work and the endless project that home improvement turn out to be. I doubt that the house can go from painting the void (yes, that is eggshell paint) into the aspired jewel status of painted eggs....

Well, back to painting, before those eggs have a chance to hatch!

Plastered

I had the most fabulous day -- after two days of serious painting large swaths of walls -- learning to plaster with clay, as developed by this company. The five of us int his hands-on workshop learned tons about clay versus lime plasters, as well as the silliness that ensues when people tend not to read the directions for given procedures.

I would love to spend days on end playing with colored mud -- which is what the clay plaster is. Sure, it's not durable when it comes to kicks and dents, but then, it is malleable and amenable to easy fixes -- not to mention resistant to mold. It's breathable, too, releasing moisture when the air is too dry and soaking it up when it's too wet.

My first project will be a single wall, using porcelina as a second coat, compressed (by hand, with a Japanese steel trowel) to a high glass finish.

A large percentage of those who practice this trade happen to be women. The instructor was a woman, too, and she has a studio in San Francisco, from where she goes to some pretty neat places in the world to plaster.

Right now, though, exhausted as I am, I will make myself a nice up of tea and settle in for the evening, with my Spanish homework, a book, some mindless TV, and then, sleep, and, perchance, dreams of bringing clay to life....

Color choices

Shall we go with the amber honey (well, clay vessel) or the beary berry (which terra earth, and actually a much deeper and redder shade than what it looks like in this picture)?

There isn't even a faint trace of green in either one of these swatches, that is one thing for sure....

Painting my world green

So, my “green” paint turned out to be truly green. Literally. We spent a lot of time toning down any hints of grin from the paint mixture, but alas, the reflections from a hillside dotted with greenery, as well as the greenish tinge of the double-glass window, and the angle of the summer sun, all conspired to tease as much of the residual green from the paint as was possible. I don’t like green walls. Even if they are purportedly calming and would help balance my doshas, among other things, such as the paint companies profits.

It’s back to square one then. I am off to the paint store again. This time, my “green” paint will have a bolder shade of maybe pink, or red, or brown… After all, these are my walls, and I might as well go wild. Paint, even the “green” paint, is still cheaper than knitting. A gallon of paint covers the room, and the price of a gallon of paint is less than the price of good materials for knitting a sock. Hmmm… maybe I can paint socks on the walls, and so eat my cake and have it too. Or something like that.

Maybe those fumes from the paint, while environmentally friendly, are not so benign when it comes to the brain….