kilmarnock

It was while I watching Marketplace the other night, the consumers affairs type show with the episode  on the dirty insides of hotels. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something blurry, but being comfortably ensconced on the chesterfield, I wasn't about to bother investigating. Anyway, it didn't matter, because a couple minutes later the blur returned. Then I saw it run out from under the computer desk with an errant piece of popcorn and return to the kitchen. It seems I have a mouse.

I was surprisingly very calm about this discovery, then again I am not prone to being afraid of mice. Not like I am with something of the insect or arachnid species. That would make me involuntarily squeal. Seriously, I would squeal. It is slightly embarrassing. I say slightly, because I am usually too paralytic with frozen fear to care.

But a mouse, while not exactly welcome, and quite annoying, does not instil fear in me.  I immediately got up and placed some more popcorn by the balcony door which, because it was a warm-ish night, was open. But the wee mousie never reappeared. And the popcorn was still there in the morning when I got up. Maybe he decided he didn't like Smartfood® after all. He probably wouldn't have gone outside, either. Perhaps he would guess that I would slam the door shut behind him.

Today, I spent 2 hours clearing out the entire cupboard space under the counter. I didn't see much evidence of him, but where else would he hide if not under the sink? Isn't that the usual place of entry? I have lived with such creatures before and ever since I've continued with the habit of putting everything from cereal and crackers to pastas and spices in glass jars. But in the 15 years I've lived in this apartment, this is the first mouse to venture into my living space and steal my Smartfood®.

It may be time to get that new cat.

home and stuff

If you need some motivation to de-clutter your surroundings, may I suggest a week away at a cabin. One that has just enough furniture to be comfortable and an adequate supply of linens and dishes/cutlery and nothing more. Okay, a pizza cutter might have been handy, but in the end was not essential.

There were no knick knacks or tchotchkes save one pretty little bowl that added some flowery life to the living room and an almost tacky wooden box with a lighthouse painted on it and cubes for changing the date. Both of these turned out to be useful as well as decorative, so can't really be counted as tchotchkes.

When I came home yesterday and saw all my accumulated assortment of stuff, I felt overwhelmed and suddenly almost claustrophobic with it all. Already I have a couple of boxes at the ready and have been quickly tossing in unneeded vases and candleholders and books before I change my mind and start thinking about any supposedly sentimental value. Or the flowers and lit candles in the winter and the pictures in the coffee table books I can look through when the cable goes and the internet is down.... I know that it is just not going to happen. Though the cable does go out occasionally.

I do have two pizza cutters though and I will put one aside to take with me on my next escape trip.

out the window

One of the things I would consider a deal breaker for any apartment that I wanted to call home would be the lack of a balcony. I have dealt with windowless kitchens and baths, with non eat-in kitchens, with no hallways and small closets, no parking and no A/C. But never no balcony.  Although, this summer we are getting ours re-done, so I have been without one since late April. The first couple of weeks were difficult. I didn't realize how often I would step outside, just to test the weather, or to get a better look at a sunset, or for somewhere to stand while drinking my morning tea. I wouldn't mind so much what size it was - a small patch big enough for a bistro table and chair and I would still be content. In fact, the one I have now is almost too big - very long and narrow. I end up using a portion of it for storage, which is not always pretty. But it is handy for at least important function: drying my laundry. I have a few clothes horses and drying racks that serve to dry pretty much everything I own. Now these are cluttering up my living room and it is a nuisance. Plus I am missing that all important fresh air scent.

It seems to be a universal feeling that nothing can beat the scent of air dried clothes, but the getting of that scent is not so universally accepted. There are whole communities where clothes lines and the drying of clothes naturally are forbidden. Where one can be fined huge amounts of money for being so daring as to show off your freshly laundered linens. It is considered by some to be a blight on the neighbourhood. Personally, I do not mind seeing your washing hanging out on a line strung across your backyard. I find all those big assed recycling and garbage bins we are now forced to buy and use to be far more of an eyesore.

While wandering around Genoa and Palma, one of the common sights that garnered the most comments from us tourists was the laundry hanging out of the windows of the apartments in the narrow streets. I kept rather quiet about it, though I did wonder how often things might fall off the line, which would be a huge nuisance having to climb down all those stairs to the ground to retrieve it.







And they have an advantage of not having to go outside and around the back of the house to hang up their clothes - simply open the window and your line is right there. So far, I have never noticed a distinct smell of fuel on my clothes from the cars below my apartment. Or dirt from the steel mills across the bay. But that was the most common refrain from the other tourists.

Strung across the front of your building was a little eye-catching, and not always the most pleasing of views, but I found it rather quaint. And, in fact, I was rather pleased to see this charming old world custom still being carried out. It was exactly as I would have expected from what I have seen on television and old movies. It is very practical as I imagine there is not much room for a dryer in these apartments located in what is quaintly referred to as the mediaeval quarter. And let's be honest, some of these narrow alleys are also not the prettiest to begin with. And a sign of life is a welcome thing.

I now love weekends

There is a lot of construction noise around me. The balconies are being replaced and even though the work has started on the other side of the building the noise vibrates right through.

I refuse to complain, as it is desperately needed and will look wonderful when the new railings go up.

In the meantime, management has quietly left these for us....

I am here to tell you that they do not work all that well.

laundry

Of all the household chores that need doing, laundry is probably the one I have the least objection to. Afterall, you don't really need to actually be there, doing anything, in order for it to get done. Oh yes, there is prep work, but that is minimal. If anything it is the clear up and folding and putting away (and possibly ironing?) of the laundry that poses a hint of an objection. And for me, the drying. Because I refuse to use a dryer. But I like that hanging up process.

When I was younger, I remember helping push the heavy wet clothes through the wringer washer. I was at once thrilled with the process and terrified of the wringer.

I also seem to remember that it would skitter across the uneven basement floor during the agitation phase. It was an all day event, this washday.





I always hang my clothes outside, even in winter sometimes, if there is enough of a breeze to keep them from freezing solid. And even sometimes if there wasn't. The air would give them a fresh scent if you hung things up after they were more than halfway dry.


Now, having only a balcony space, I need to use a variety of clothes horses for this chore and due to a some space issues, I tend to leave them outside folded up and behind a trellis when not in use.

My large wooden rack is perfect for hanging sheets. I found one that someone (likely someone cleaning out Mum's house...) had put out for garbage pick up.

Over the years, it has become less and less stable and has on many an occasion fallen over with the heavier breezes. It had broken bits and needed to be stabilized by the wall and chairs but would still list to one side and wobbled dreadfully. It owes me nothing. So I shed no tears, when I finally threw it out and replaced it with this brand new STURDY
one that I found at a market stall.

It has much thicker dowels that mean less crease in your sheets. 

And extra supports. And you can't tell in the picture, but it is also a bit wider. 

Now, I am waiting for that right breeze....

still waiting

Today didn't turn out quite as expected. It is now well past 5 pm (as I start writing this) and they have not come. Again. The letter said - and I quote (sans snarky rejoinders as much as I am so tempted...)  "As part of our ongoing effort to make living easy for you, we will be completing an annual suite inspection of your unit on Monday June 27th between the hours of 9am and 5pm. Should any deficiencies be noted, we will contact you after the inspection to co-ordinate a time to complete the required work. Please note, you do not need to be present for this inspection, however we kindly ask that you remove all deadbolts and chain locks." 

That last bit was in bold.

As if I would actually want an 'inspection' in my home without being present! Of course I planned to be present. When our previous superintendent was around, I would have gladly let him come in and do what he needed, knowing that he wasn't pleased at having to do these inspections any more than we were at having them done. (though whenever you hear about grow-ops or hoarders living in buildings, I rethink that idea) He would come in take a cursory look around and make the necessary notes, which one year involved recording the serial numbers of the fridge and stove. Really? What kind of maintenance inspection is that? Whatever. But I liked Mike. Nearly everyone liked him. Now we have an office full of staff who do not make themselves present to us so it is anyone's guess as to who would actually be conducting this inspection. And as past years have proved, they really don't intend to "make our living easier" by doing upgrades or any more maintenance than they can get away with not doing.

It would make my living easier if you just showed up. (and even easier if you actually did the required repairs...) But at 4:50 I got a phone call, saying they were behind schedule and they could come the next day if that was convenient. Well, since I had already waited up all day for them, no that would not be convenient. And I reminded the superintendent that since I work nights, I would like to sleep during the morning. Fine, the day after then.

So another day of little sleep and waiting around... There are things I want them to see and take note of, not the least of which are the washroom issues that still have not been fixed or replaced. And there are things that I do not want them to see, not the least of which would be my collection of clothes horses for drying my laundry on the balcony. They frown on that sort of thing, so why give them a reason to keep looking up... (which is also annoying in that the last three days have been perfect clothes-drying-outside weather: sunny and breezy. and I always use clothes pegs to stop them from flying off the balcony.)

I was a little excited about going down to the mailroom to pick up my mail today, though. I was thinking at least a few bills (or invoices really as most of my bills are paid automatically) and maybe a fistful of postcards from Postcrossing. It has been so long and I missed my daily hopeful visit to the mailbox. After weeks of strikes and a lockout and now back to work legislation, we got mail.

well, junk mail. that's it. one lonely flyer.

we're sorry for the inconvenience

Today is the day that management is sorry for the inconvenience but they are going to take away all our water between the hours of 9 am and 5 pm while they work on the neverending plumbing issues of a 50+ year old building. The notice that came around last night may not have been worded exactly like that, but close enough. 

Co-incidentally, today is the day the temperature climbs to somewhere around 36 celcius with a humidex hovering somewhere in the 40s (36 C is 96.8 F and 43 C is 109.4 F  I'm sorry but those F numbers sound more like radio stations than temperatures - this morning you are listening to the gentle hum of 96.8 on your FM dial and later this afternoon tune in to 109.4 for the sounds of leaves wilting...)

And what a light show we had overnight. The warnings of thunderstorms came through around 1:15 am and once the lightening got going it just kept on and on. It was pretty much continuous for almost an hour. No stopping to catch its breath, no pausing to confer with thunder to see if he was even bothering to keep up. Lightning did not care. Most of the time, I couldn't even see the lightning bolts, it was just intense and overlapping flashes of light that seemed to be an umbrella over the whole area. It was like when you see a television reflection flickering on the walls and ceiling in a dark room. It would have been a fast paced action movie. I do not believe I have ever seen anything quite like it before. And we even had a tornado warning, which thankfully did not actually materialize. We get tornado watches, but not often warnings.

At the moment, my place is still in shade and is cool with a nice breeze blowing. Now, I'm off to fill up the kettle and the water jugs and prepare for an afternoon in hades because I took all my blinds down yesterday in preparation for the new ones to be installed... on Thursday. By then the heat and humidity will have broken. Actually, maybe I won't bother filling the water jugs, I'll just leave for somewhere with other hydrating liquids and A/C.

I'll let you know what happens.

city mouse

Yesterday was spent in the company of friends who live out in the country. They are a few miles from a quaint village and there are farms around to provide a faint (or more) whiff of animals. And eggs and corn and fresh tomatoes. There are neighbours close by, but the trees and hills provide enough cover that you may completely forget they are there. Straight down the road about 20 minutes away is a city that is one of the fastest growing in Ontario. And from there it is a short commute into the largest city in Canada.

Except for the cicadas and crickets and a few frogs, it was eerily quiet. A whole different world existed beyond the suburban crawl. I got almost giddy at the thought of coming back for their Fall Fair which is 160 years old this year. There is an annual Christmas Tree Lighting that attracts thousands of people! It all sounds so quaint. Bucolic. (though, doesn't that word have an awful sound to it? more like some kind of nasty disease instead of a pastoral poem)

These friends are moving next winter and have sold their house to people they suspect will not last long. They have no idea what living in the country will be like. I know that I would hate it, no matter how lovely and inviting it seems on a visit. I know that deep down, I am a city woman. I am also a bit lazy. I like not having to drive 15 minutes or more just to get condiments or coffee. Although, it has been pointed out that walking the 15 minutes to the stores is not lazy. I think it must be a perception of distance thing. I can sit and stare out a window with the best of them, but after awhile I need the stimulation of shops and street life and theatres and galleries close by for my amusement. It is fun to people watch when when you never know who you are going to run into and then there is the surprise of running into someone you know. In a village, the chances of running into the same people day after day might get a little claustrophobic. I like not having to worry about curling shingles, burst pipes and septic tanks. And snow drifts blocking a long unmaintained lane. And the worry of bears.

But every now and then, I wonder... if I had the money to buy exactly what I wanted and to maintain it properly... if I had a live-in gardener and a riding snowblower and a few chickens and a dog to scare the foxes would I change my lifestyle? Would I be happy with the constant quiet, or would I sink into a depression from the isolation? Would I feel a desolation wash over me when I realized the main street of the village was empty streets with shuttered stores at 5PM. My turtle might be happy to have a pond instead of an aquarium, but would he get along with the frogs?

Where I live now is not perfect. Most of you know that I live in a highrise. I may not have a yard, but I do have a rather large balcony. And a great view! The advantages are that I can call management to fix the plumbing. I can lock the door, give the key to a neighbour to watch the cat and water the plants and she does not even put on a coat (in winter). I am mere minutes from the lake and the downtown core, yet is very quiet. The traffic would be my number one complaint - it is there and constant, even if I don't hear it. And I would like to walk out my door and be outside, not in a hallway waiting for an elevator.

But these are minor quibbles. I would like to know what you like and dislike about where you have chosen to live. And if you had the chance, would you move into the city from the country or out to a farming community from a urban area?

unwelcome

I awoke to a slight clattering noise.

My first thought was that it was the turtle slipping off his basking rock. I remembered seeing him basking before I went to bed, and he is big and lumbering.

My second thought was, since I'm awake...

and wandered into the livingroom to see a huge pigeon flying around.

He didn't seem happy to be visiting my humble abode.

Very quickly, the scent of fresh air from the open door lured him outside again where he landed on the railing. I swear he turned back to check that he was safe.

"my god, that was close" he must have been thinking before he flew off.

Which was rather close to what I was thinking.

I leave the door open, mostly for the fresh air, but also to let the cat wander in and out at will.

I glanced down at her as she followed me into the room.

"what? did I miss something?" she seemed to say as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

I pointed outside.

"oh. they are filthy nuisances aren't they? I'm going back to bed."

Which was pretty much what I did.

After I closed the balcony door.

PhotoHunt Saturday - locks

This weekend we are having a community yard sale.

With roughly 320 apartments between our two buildings

there should be some good finds.

Oh yeah, instead of clearing out my locker,

I took photos of the variety of locks I found.

find more locks of interest at PhotoHunt

My miniature garden...

first viewing

to be continued...

it's snowing in my backyard, too

that dark spot is a crow huddling in the branches


my car getting a new cloak


Now, if you have to plough your driveway, have a thought for our poor maintenance man, Mike, who also has to get out the snowblower...

he has been at it ALL DAY and having to fill up the gas
many, many times.



because he has all this to get through.
(that's Mike way up on the top of picture)

someone with personality lives behind this door

My neighbour, who used to live directly across the hall from me, liked to tell me of the cute things her three year old granddaughter would say. Things like: Oma, why doesn't that lady have something pretty on her door like you have?

Mine was the only one that stood naked.

After the second retelling, I took the hint and went out and bought some very large pinecones and attached them to a big red ribbon and hung it on a hook on my door. I went for drama.

This seemed to please the ladies on my end of the hall, and I got compliments and remarks like:
Well, it's about time you put something up
Bethany will be so pleased next time she comes to visit
Nice big pinecones

I like your new decoration
Very nice, but it's a bit Christmassy with that red bow and it's only October
(yeah, that would be Helen, the one who spoke her mind).

If anyone has spent time wandering the halls of a seniors' home you'll notice that almost all of the apartment doors are festooned with some sort of decoration. This at least helps break up the bleakness of a long hall of doorways. It also adds some personality. And is a good marker for finding your way home again. Though that can work for anyone, really. I once had some poor embarrassed woman enter my apartment by mistake. Had I my pinecones up, she might have noticed she was on the wrong floor before dragging her laundry into my front hall. (and yes, I keep my door unlocked when I am at home, as did she, apparently). Other apartment buildings seem to have door personality about them. I've been in buildings where every door has something up, and buildings where only a few are decorated. My building was definitely heavily on the decorated front when I moved here. Now, sadly, not so much.

Some of these door decorations are a little too cute and country-ish for my taste. Some are tacky. Actually, many are tacky. Many have fake flowers of some sort that are usually not in season. Occasionally, you will see some beautiful or elaborate decorations. I remember once seeing a doorway covered in a strand of fake wisteria draped as if growing over an arbour. Sometimes dolls or stuffed animals are strung up. Most however involve wreaths or hats with flowers. Not everyone goes all out to decorate their doors. Many are left naked.

Christmas is when the door decorations really have their best display. Large ribbons decorate the door as if opening a big present. Garlands drape the doorframe. Wooden Santas and sleighs hang onto hooks. Sparkly door knob rings jangle. The wreaths get larger. Berries, bows and bells appear. As do pinecones. None as dramatic as my huge ones, however. (which I do not have a photo of, and they are packed away)

It is all very festive and lively.

And then, around the second week in January, the festiveness disappears. And the fake flowers reappear.

I like the decorations. Even the tacky ones. It reminds you that someone actually lives behind the closed doors.

daft draft

There is a draft on my feet. My place is actually a trifle chilly. A little surprising as I live in a high rise.

It is the air conditioner's fault.

No, I don't have it on. Actually, I don't even think I turned it on once all summer. Which would make it doubly a shame to go to all that effort to remove it only to put it back in the window next summer. And maybe not use it.

But there is a definite draft coming from all around the unit. Needs a blanket of plastic over it methinks.

But for now, I'll take my tea and return to the cosy room.

Where I have my own perpetual footwarmer.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought I'd start on getting my meager decorations out of their boxes and in view to be enjoyed.
This one is one of my many bird ornaments and I enjoy him so much I've kept him out all year.

neighbours

There are 12 apartments on each floor in my building. For a few years we were a group of 12 single women. What are the odds? The pet of choice was overwhelmingly the cat. Six cats to one puppy. Two of my neighbours were very close friends and were always at each other's doors for a chat. They stayed in the hall for some reason and one of the ladies, Helen, had a rather booming voice. It went well with her opinions, of which she had many and was not shy to share. You always knew where you were with Helen. When Helen and Joyce were having one of their gabfests, doors would open (often mine first as they were right in front of my door) and soon Audrey would join in with her stage ready voice. Once Ursula came out well, much laughter ensued. Sometimes, Verna would pop her head out to say we were too loud, but would stay to see what the gossip was. Lorna would appear at the end of the hall, with her cat Timmy who followed her everywhere. People would get off the elevator and join in. If Catherine was nearby she'd have pictures from her latest trip which might include paragliding, or sailing. Serena would regale us with tales of woe from her job as a flight attendant for the now defunct Canadian Airlines. Her kitten (I forget his name) and Abby would venture out and we'd watch as Timmy cautiously wandered down the hall from his end and (let's call him Felix, for want of a name) would romp up and down the carpet sometimes with the puppy, Oscar, at his end of the hall. Abby would be in the middle, eventually wandering down to meet Timmy. Felix would watch to see if he needed to hide from flying fur. But the rest of us knew that Abby and Timmy had a long distance attraction. They would gaze at each other through the railings of our balconies. Of course, for that to happen, Abby would have to crawl over to Verna's balcony. Which she did with astonishing regularity. She always found a way to get around or under the solid divider that separated Verna's and my balcony to sit by the railing at the other end. For hours the two cats would sit and face each other quietly. Helen didn't approve of this. Her cats never left her apartment, not even for the balcony. She thought I was very negligent and that I would pay for my negligence by finding my cat on the ground one day. I must say, it was unnerving to see her peering over the edge with her front paws dangling, watching whatever was going on below. But she was perfectly safe and perfectly content.

Nowadays, I am the oldest (as in years of living here) tenant on our floor with Catherine and Ellie living here 2 years less than me. Helen had lived here since the building was built in 1964. She and Verna and Ursula and Audrey have all passed away. Joyce and Lorna have moved away. And Catherine has been on an extended holiday for much of the year. There have been several changes and the new tenants aren't nearly as friendly. No one seems connected. The laughter has gone, as has the gossip. Sometimes we will meet in the hall and barely a word will pass. Many times we will meet in the elevator and not even know that we are neighbours. The pet of choice has become the dog. But that is another post.