My kitchen cupboard renovation.

Sometimes I need to go back to old pictures to see how much progress I’ve made because it gets depressing to think about how much work this little house has needed. When we first bought it I could see immediately it was all cosmetic stuff. Everything about the house was solid. What it needed was all “easy” stuff. Paint, new windows, a better kitchen sink. Working our way to getting all the easy stuff for the third summer is getting exasperating.

So I stand back and look at the house today and think, well we have come a long way! The exterior is all repainted. The wooden decks were all given a coating of waterproofing stuff. The vegetable garden was rescued. This summer we built a nice little fence outside to create a doggy space. The garden is coming along so nicely. Tending the flower beds is cheap and gives such immediate rewards. If I only look at the outside, the house feels entirely and comfortably mine.

This summer we began tackling the inside. The kitchen is in so many ways the heart of the home. I really wanted my own kitchen space made over the way I like and want it. And so that is where I began the inside.

I went through a whole lot of internal debate about whether or not to raise the counter and whether or not it might just be better to tear out these old cabinets and buy new ones. It certainly would have been easier! (I think.) In the end we simply upgraded the old ones. We did this for three reasons. One, it is much cheaper to repair and repaint old cupboards than to buy all new ones. Two, these old plywood cupboards are far sturdier than anything you buy on the market today short of custom designed solid oak cabinets made the old fashioned way. That would likely cost more than the whole house even if you could find a real old fashioned craftsman to drive to Alonsa to do it. My drawers even have dove tails on the ends! How often do you see those these days? If you have ever lived with pressboard cupboards that start falling apart by the time they are five years old, you know exactly how nice solid plywood can be. These cupboards are as old as I am and they are still working perfectly. Third, call me old fashioned but I really felt the handmade plywood cabinets were integral to the character of this little farmhouse. That went for the lovely old fashioned counter top. I simply don’t like the granite that is so popular these days. Ripping the old cupboards and countertop out and putting in new modern cupboards and counters just would not feel “right”. I was going to raise the countertop but then one of the older residents pointed out that lower cupboards are easier as you age and need a walker or to sit while doing dishes. Since we are hoping this home will be our last until we go into the ground, we need to think of things like that.

The single most irritating thing about the kitchen was one medium size sink. I like having two sinks. Call me crazy, but a kitchen isn’t right to me without two sinks. Since it is a small kitchen, it took some time to find the right double sink that fit but Home Hardware had it. Now I have a medium sink that is the same size as the one I had before and smaller sink on the side to dump things in when I do dishes and all those other times it is great to have two sinks instead of one.

We added a spray tap that pulls out (what a great new fangled gadget that is!) and a second small faucet for drinking water. We have the most delicious well water you can imagine but it is as hard as anything and so we have a water softener in our basement. But who wants to drink that stuff? For a while we were going outside and getting drinking water from the outside tap which does not go through the water softener. This was fine in summer although I did get some weird looks going out in the morning in my nightgown to get water for my morning coffee. Last fall I then installed a basement tap that allowed us to get drinking water without going outside. It also allows us to drain the system of water before we left for the winter. That was a huge improvement for morning water runs, especially for November when we had snow on the ground. Now we have the deluxe model with a separate tap right in the kitchen.

The other addition was a much needed stove hood. Our house is small and so if you burn something or fry something the fumes fill the entire house really quickly. We also have humidity issues so a way to quickly clear the air is very handy. The new hood (again compliments of Home Hardware) turned out to be a really big job because I had to wire it in. We soon found the charcoal filter was inadequate and we needed a vent to the outside. The precise vent was hard to fine but Amazon provided what I needed to install an exterior vent. Both jobs were successful but many cuss efforts. I also discovered that not everything in my lovely handmade plywoods cupboards was perfectly square so we added “trim” to the “must have” list.

The kitchen in our small house also has few cupboard spaces and unfortunately two perfect good cupboards were inaccessible because one of the previous three owners painted those old fashioned sliders shut. Fortunately, the application of a little superior male intellect from hubby dearest and some more plywood and a trip to RONA for just the right hinges meant the old impossible doors could be replaced with new ones that actually open and close with a touch. We made new doors for that inaccessible set of cupboards over the stove and now I have two new lovely additional cupboards on top.

 

We decided to keep all the original hinges. They are sturdy and working just fine. Plus at an average cost of $5/hinge that was $180 we could use elsewhere. We did opt for all new matching handles. If you look at the picture where I am installing the sink, you can see how we had three different kinds of handles. I found these lovelies on sale very cheaply ($1.50 each) from Amazon. The ones I really wanted with lovely twinned ivy leaves and acorns were $70 each and they were just not lovely enough for that much money. What a difference a coat of paint and all new handles makes! (Thank you hubby dearest for cheerfully joining me in the effort of repainting and being ready to jump in anytime I needed another pair of hands or some brute strength.)

The four drawers turned out to be the biggest nuisance. Drawers have multiple surfaces which means many more sessions of doing a coat, then waiting then applying a coat, over and over again. The different handles meant that I also had to fill the original holes with wood putty and make new holes and then sand. That resulted in almost as many cusses as stove hood installation required.

I have ordered new curtains in a pretty green and blue plaid to unify the teals and greens. We have a couple of men coming in maybe some time this week (depending on how much time ranching takes up first) to install the last two new windows we need, including the one in the kitchen. (I am hoping for more rain!) And I have to replace the yucky old yellowing electric outlets and face plates with fresh new white ones and then repaint the walls. The walls I am doing in “Alpine Air” the fanciful name for a near to white lightest possible teal.

Our original plan for this summer was repaint the entire interior of the house and install new flooring. I know kitchens are the biggest fussiest job there is but I am beginning to think just getting the kitchen done might be enough for this year. I don’t have an after picture yet because we aren’t at “after” yet. I still have lots of touch ups and clean ups. I can say, the cupboards are done!

“Blessed are You, LORD our God, King of the universe, Who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season.”

 

 

 

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One Week With Misty.

Death is terrible but life goes on anyway. When it comes to dogs there are at least two ways dog people cope with grief. Some need to spend time quietly mourning and eventually they heal enough to be able to open their hearts again. Others are like us. We enjoy not just the individual dogs but the things that go with having a dog around like going for walks and getting greeted with a happy wagging tail. So for us being without a companion dog is a double loss, the dog itself and the companionship of the dog. For us, moving quickly on to the next companion eases the profound sense of loss and grief after the passing of the last one.

Enter Misty. We were very aware how both our Fred and Trusty were aging and that was a source of stress and pain to us. In many ways it was wonderful to have two dogs the same age because they were companions to each other in addition to being companions to us. However this meant facing the loss of both dogs at the same time. We decided before we lost one of this pair would get a new puppy so that the new puppy would already be well integrated into our life. Also, we have noted in the past that the arrival of a new young dog tends to rejuvenate the older dog while the younger dog is learning. There is a few happy months and then a realization for the old dog that this youngster is ready to take over the duties that have become a burden due to aging. The old dog can let go and sleep longer, leave barking at passing dogs and strangers to the young one, and not push so hard. It seems to me it eases their passing. They leave knowing we are not left alone.

 

Our home (purchased two and a half years ago) was not suitable for a new puppy. We have a front area where the dogs went out  to do their business or sun, but that was a pair of much older dogs who were accustomed to being on leads, leashes and tethers when not in the house with us. That is too hard for a young puppy. Puppies don’t understand being tied and it makes them miserable. They need a safe place to just be puppies and run and jump and roll unless the owner is ready to spend a lot of time going to safe dog parks. We knew we needed a fence. Our wonderful neighbours came through for us, a big sale was going on for lumber at the local co-op, and we soon had everything we needed to fence the front dog area. Puppies are also clumsy and silly so Dick added lots of extra boards to the front deck so the puppy couldn’t fall off and break something.

The choice of dog was tough. Fred was our first big dog. We didn’t plan on having a big dog. Fred came to us because Trusty brought him home one day and introduced him. Fred taught us there are some real advantages to a big dog. Primary among them is that being big, just their presence can act as a deterrent to those up to no good. During our many travels we have had humans try to attack us four times and each time Fred transformed from the sweetest gentlest doggy you could ever find to a snarling killer dog whose bad attitude drove off the attacker. A well socialized, properly trained dog who knows people also knows when they up to no good. I have to wonder how many other times having a big dog made some predatory human decide to go hunt elsewhere before we ever knew we were being assessed for vulnerability as prey. Also many years ago while we were at a riverside campground, a boy of four got in over his head. Fred noticed the child in distress well before any of us humans. He leaped into the water, wrenching the leash right out of my hand and swam straight to the little guy. Dad was just entering the water when Fred got there. The child (who had been floating just at the surface) pulled himself up onto Fred to lift his head up with a huge gasping sound. Fred swam back with the little guy clinging to him meeting the father halfway. A small dog would never have been able to do such a miraculous thing. So we knew this time we wanted another big dog.

We also knew we didn’t want an older rescue. All of our dogs but Trusty were older rescues. All of them had been mistreated and came with baggage from something awful in their past. Even our current dog Fred came with separation anxiety, roaming behaviour, some minor aggression issues and intense food anxiety that made him a real handful for the first three years we had him. It took him a long time to finally bond to us. All of these dogs adjusted to us and bonded but the process of untraining bad habits and establishing trust and making the bond with the older dog took a lot of time and, for some things, it was never fully accomplished. An older dog often comes already housebroken and spayed or neutered but, frankly, we were tired of dealing with all the other issues. Having already adopted so many older rescues over the years, we just didn’t want to do it again. We wanted a new puppy like Trusty had been, who would be ours from the beginning. Trusty was the most cheerful, happy, trusting little girl and I think that was in large part because she went from an experienced show dog breeder to an experienced dog home as a young pup. (I know some people think all breeders are evil. I personally do not accept the position that a responsible show dog kennel owner who is raising grand champion dogs, does not allow litter to happen unless she has a waiting list of adopters, and even then only has puppies about once in five years a part of carefully planned breeding program, is in the same class or deserving of the same scorn as a back yard breeder or a puppy mill.)

You would think finding a young rescue puppy would be easy. It was not. We came head long into the phenomena know as “retail rescue“. Naturally we wanted to avoid this. One rescue near us boasted of over 80 puppies needing rescue, puppies of all kinds of breeds and types, but they wanted an astonishing $850 for these pups. How does one have a constant stream of rescuable puppies if one is not in retail rescue? The other rescues acted in ways we found repugnant. One rescue took three weeks to answer us about a puppy they had available for adoption on their website only to say that puppy was gone. Even though their website showed nearly a dozen new babies desperately needing homes and they were pleading for donations of money and supplies, they would only offer us a totally different and entirely unsuitable older dog instead. And then there was the other dog they had who was in a doggy wheelchair because his back legs didn’t work but it wasn’t much extra trouble to care for him. He just had to have a wheel chair accessible ramp at the door or to be carried up and down the stairs each time. They gave us a “well if you just want a healthy puppy you don’t deserve a dog” attitude.

Other rescues were what seemed to be outright neurotic, far more interested in passing judgement on us evil humans than actually rehoming puppies. One rescue wanted us to agree to take a dog that might have aggression issues and a biting history and promise we would not ever put the dog down for aggression. That is simply not happening because my sense of responsibility to my community is far more important than to my dog, so sorry. In my book the only good aggressive dog with bite/attack history is a dead one.

One rescue appeared to be run so the owner could have a constant supply of young puppies. No puppy could leave them until after the age of six months, fully housebroken and trained, and at substantially higher costs. When I said we wanted to train our puppy ourselves, I was told very firmly that should always be left to professionals and rehoming a puppy before such professional training was dog abuse. (Utter nonsense!)

Another one said they would not let us adopt because we were too old and the dog was likely to outlive us! (My husband is 73 and I am 57.) Another wanted to see five years worth of our income tax assessments to be sure we could really afford a dog. (Uh no. We’re not doing that.) Several demanded we agree to home assessments before and after placement and one wanted us to give them the legal right to swoop in and seize the dog back with no refund of the adoption fee for any reason they decided on, plus the right to bill us to recoup any and all costs associated with taking the dog back. In the event of any dispute we had to agree to pay all legal fees. That was not acceptable to us either. A pre-adoption home assessment was fine but not the other stuff. Speaking of home assessments, two rescues refused us because we lived too far from the city for them to send someone out to do a home assessment.

I was once accused of abusing Trusty Dog by a vet technician I met at a dog party. She thought Trusty Dog was too thin compared to her dog. In fact, Trusty was a perfect weight by our vet’s estimate at her regular check up a month before. Trusty Dog had also been assessed by an expert team raising awareness of dog obesity at the dog party we were attending. Yet this fruitcake asked me all kinds of questions in order to determine who to complain to and she called the owner of the kennel we got Trusty Dog from. She created such a fuss that the kennel owner reluctantly and apologetically contacted me to make sure Trusty Dog was not being starved. Trusty Dog simply had a more “rangy” terrier build. This was why she was sold to us as a pet quality animal in the first place! I also learned that the people running the obesity clinic was apparently fools because they had told the crazy person that her dog was overweight. (Surprise, surprise.) The kennel owner reported to me how this nut had already had her in small claims court over false dog abuse charges once and she warned me to be careful of her. After that experience, I was certainly not about to give up my legal rights to the dog, in advance, in a contract. I know for certain this woman would have seized Trusty Dog from us for our perceived abuse if she could have. I just knew from that experience that I would spend the rest of that dog’s life waiting for a neurotic nut to swoop in, accuse me of dog abuse, and seize the dog and break my heart. It would make bonding with the dog extremely difficult.

My story is not unique. Unresponsive, difficult, neurotic individuals in rescue organizations are common place. I felt all the rescues I contacted were either unethical “retail rescues” or they were making it so difficult to get a puppy that we despaired of ever finding one. Even the shelters that we knew were good ones reported that rescues swooped in and immediately adopted any puppies that they did get so that regular folks like us would never have a chance. We kept looking. Meanwhile, we kept working on the fence.

And then a small miracle happened as such things tend to. There was a small ad in a local paper. Golden Retriever mother and German Shepherd father (probably). I talked to the woman selling the puppies and it soon became obvious this was no puppy mill. Her 12 year old Golden Retriever (who had never had puppies before and was assumed to be incapable) had unexpectedly produced a later of eight puppies after an unauthorized visit from two full brothers who lived two farms over. The young woman was embarrassed, even apologetic, about the unplanned litter. Mom was an older but still fit and lovely girl who had spent many years as a farm dog/family pet and she had been used for hunting. She was a real working dog.

 

The young lady who owned the pups said they had to stay with their mother for a full 8 weeks and she would not release them until after they had their first puppy shot and vet check. Mom was fully vaccinated and healthy in spite of being skinny from nursing pups. She asked me a few appropriate questions that indicated she was making sure the puppy was going to a good home but she was not a neurotic fruitcake. She was asking far less than any formal rescue, basically enough to cover the vet costs and a bit extra for her trouble. She was also local to us and her family’s reputation was excellent. We decided to go see these puppies.

I read up on Golden Retrievers as a breed and on German Shepherds first. I also read about Golden Shepherds, a so called designer hybrid. All of this looked very promising except that we wanted a dog who would be reserved and protective and if the puppy took after the golden side too much, we would get a big happy goofball who would likely wag her tail and lick a stranger out to rob or injure us. Goldens are not exactly noted for their protectiveness. Both breeds are highly intelligent, attach firmly to their people, need lots of activity and long walks and a lot of time just being with their owners. These are all pluses for us as an older retired couple. It seemed a good match of breed to owner.

On our way to see these puppies we stopped and saw the pair of big males of which one was the presumed father. They were also assumed to be purebred German Shepherd. These were working farm dogs, in glowing good health. Being from a  working dog line I was pleased to note they did not have the long sloping back so prized among German Shepherd show types but associated with hip dysplasia. I watched the owner of these two boys interacting with them. He was using hand signals and the dogs were immediately and correctly responding. We met the mother and she was a delightful and typical Golden Retriever. So both parents of these puppies were real working farm dogs, intelligent, healthy and of excellent temperament. We decided to take one puppy. We wanted a female since we felt that a female puppy would be more likely to integrate into our existing family. We also had a family wedding to attend and we wanted her to stay one extra week with her Mom after her shots. I also wanted the shot to have some time to work before taking her home. I am crazy afraid of parvo. The nice woman immediately agreed to the extra week.

All this settled, we finally went to see the puppies. They were happily running about in a box stall, healthy, fat and sweet tempered.  Young children were present so the pups were already well accustomed to children which was a plus. There were also horses, cats and goats nearby and the pups were therefore likely to be tolerant of all kinds of animals. This was no puppy mill litter. If anything it was an accidental litter from responsible pet owners (aside from the lack of spaying and neutering something very common in farm dogs) who were now trying to do the right thing by these puppies. The next task was simply picking the right puppy for us out of the five females in the litter.

When the woman opened the door to the stall the puppies came tumbling out, joyous happy tail wagging bundles. One puppy started with the crowd and then spotted us and immediately paused. She held back. Her little sweet puppy face was hesitant. I read “Wait a minute, do I know you? Are you safe?” After a proper introduction she immediately became a happy friendly pup but that moment of hesitation was critical in my assessment. She was a reserved dog, not fearful, just reserved. And when I picked her up and gently flipped her over to check she submitted gracefully and, yes she was a female. The pause she exhibited was more German Shepherd than Golden. She was our pup.

We had left Trusty at home because traveling upset her too much but Fred was with us. We took her over to introduce her to Fred. He immediately did a full body joyous melt as if she was the cutest thing in the entire universe. She did her reserved hesitation thing again. After assessing Fred and deciding he was okay, she wagged her tail and gave him a puppy kiss and I thought Fred would pass out from his joy. Fred approved of her. Now we had nearly four long weeks to wait until she could come home.

 

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We have had her for a week now. It has been almost pure pleasure. She is intelligent and adaptable. In one week she has already learned her call name and the commands “off” (as in put it down and/or don’t touch it), “come”, “out” (as in we are going out to the yard now), and “down”. The crate was a strain at first but she went in at bed time and slept in it all night last night without a whimper. Being a puppy, she hasn’t much attention span but she’s listening and responding to the commands for at least a few minutes. She is testing us to see what we are consistent about. She is walking well on the leash although we aren’t yet doing more than pleasure walking. Heel, sit, and stay, lie down and the formal stuff will all come later when she is a bit bigger. She has enough to learn right now. A friend of ours came to see her and she reacted by barking at him and backing off until she had a chance to look him over. Now that she knows him, he gets a joyous greeting. I like a dog that is a bit suspicious and reserved but soon learns who she can trust. We took her to the beach and she is a natural water dog. She followed Fred right in and swam eagerly with him. And she chases and fetches a ball already.

Fred adores her though she gets disciplined by him. She worships Fred and happily does anything she sees him doing which is making housebreaking really easy. As long as we get her out of the house we have no accidents. She hasn’t figured out how to let us know she needs to go out yet, so we still have a puddle or two each day, which is to be expected. I no longer get to sleep in because she has these spells of being frenetically active and the only cure is a walk around town until she is tired out and that begins when she gets up at about 7:00am. This is actually good for me. (I keep telling myself this.)

We named her Misty for two reasons. We wanted to memorialize Trusty Dog and another dog from my husband’s past named Rusty. She is mostly black but she has a few hairs that just make a mist patch of white on her chest. Plus she has gold brindling highlights. Trusty Dog was a brindle and I love that on Misty. People who see her assume she is a lab because she has the golden/lab shaped face. For campgrounds that don’t allow German Shepherds she will be a lab cross.

Best of all she has firmly and absolutely bonded to us. We are her people. She is our dog. And we have a joyous house full of puppy kisses and happy exploration and just plain fun. Right now as I write she is lying at my feet sleeping. She is happiest beside one of us and she often sleeps in a place halfway between us both. Trusty Dog, I miss you still and thinking of you still makes me eyes tear up but don’t worry about me. Fred, we know your time is coming sooner rather than later. Your hips hurt so long walks are no longer possible and your lumps and bumps keep getting lumpier and bumpier. You’ll be able to go in peace when it is time, knowing we are well taken care of. With Misty, we are fine.

At this point there is only one family member who isn’t happy. The cat is not a big fan of puppy kisses and being bowled over with exuberant puppy greetings. Klinger has had to be very stern and unforgiving in teaching her that cats are not fellow puppies and must not be treated as such. Klinger was horrified when she arrived and he is still not a bit happy with us for bringing this canine nuisance into his otherwise well ordered life. As of yesterday, he has stopped growling, hissing, spitting and threatening to take her eyes out, mostly because she has learned about his sharp claws on her tender nose and she has begun keeping a properly respectful distance. Life goes on. Praise G-d.