Tag: Family

Tagging a tree

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Our custom is to bring the tree indoors on Christmas Eve and decorate it then. Sometimes we’ve even waited till that very morning to head out to the tree farm to harvest the one we had tagged earlier. But that was back in New Hampshire.

Here in Real Downeast Maine, we instead initially gleaned our Yule tree in the neighboring forests, sometimes even along country roads under utility lines, first in tabletop sizes and then full-size. The vegan member of our circle, however, complained that they weren’t full enough. She wanted something more classically ideal. Definitely nothing Charlie Brown.

Well, the natural – organic – ones do tend to grow mostly on one side, nestled in with others, unless you fell a taller evergreen and lop off the top five or six feet. Not that such an argument went anywhere. Even so, the rest of us were perfectly delighted with what we put up and strung lights on and all the rest.

Against that background, we finally relented and were then astonished at one nearby family tree farm that goes along for perhaps a half-mile in clearings along an unpaved lane into the bigger forest. There are probably enough trees for every child, woman, and man in the county, and the prices are ridiculously low in comparison to what you just paid, wherever.

The kids in the family will even come around with electric chainsaws to cut it down for you. What more could you ask? Well, maybe that netting before we jam it into the hatch of our car?

What you see here is us claiming one to be ours, that is “tagging” it with ribbon and an identifying label, ahead of time. We trust that nobody else will ignore those markers. (It’s happened to us only once, back in more populous Dover. We still found a fine replacement. Maybe better?)

My, those needles y do smell good, outdoors and in.

Here’s wishing you and yours and happy and memorable togetherness.

Time to kick back and enjoy all the comforts of home

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

This Christmas is shaping up to be picture-perfect. Well, make that better than in previous years. Nobody will be sleeping on mattresses on the floor, as has usually been the case when the rest of the family or guests show up. But the still not remodeled kitchen lacks a full-size oven and, glory be, a dishwasher. Living here feels much less like we’re camping.

By taking the back wall up and turning the two small dormers in front into one long “dustpan” dormer, we gained more than 320 square feet of additional space in addition the parts where I’m now able to walk around fully upright. The two back bedrooms allow much more than a bed and dresser. Even though we still don’t have a second bathroom and laundry area, these are First World problems. Welcome to the 21st century, you old house, with your two centuries-plus already behind you.

You’ve earned some much overdue tender care.

You’ve really become part of the family.

Regarding our real estate market

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

We were staggered and bewildered by the number of people – mainly from California, Texas, and New York – who were buying up properties out here, sight unseen during the height of the Covid epidemic. Well, that went for our Dover in New Hampshire, too. Their bids definitely inflated the selling prices.

It seemed pretty risky, from the locals’ point of view, and that included us. There are so many things, including warning signs, that you discover in a walkthrough of a property, fine distinctions that don’t appear in photos or descriptions. Just think of smells or the neighbors or even lighting as well.

There are also so many things you won’t catch if you see a property only in fine weather. Not just leaks or drafts, either. As a quip around here goes, will those buyers be selling once they’ve endured a winter living here?

We were lucky to purchase when we did. The prices not only went up dramatically soon after that, they’ve stayed up, We remain mystified about how young families are paying what they are for housing.

Could this be how it ends?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The time to go has come. It should have arrived several years earlier, rather than continuing in so much wheelchair loitering, trapped in a dream-state. Now the phone call, “I don’t expect him to live another week,” leads into packing and flight.

Unable to awaken, fully, from the bewildering disconnections. This is not the heart attack or car crash I had predicted. Nor the old age of graceful evaporation into a vanishing point of history. No one will say now, “He lost his mind,” but the new names change nothing. This terminal illness, in stages, until the patient no longer remembers how to eat or breathe. Perhaps, mercifully, an angel will break through the sterile chambers of medical enterprise, and another nature will take its course.

This flesh, shrinking to bone, rather than feather.

One checkpoint where we lucked out

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

A miraculous thing for us was that the roofing shingles, which had prompted our big renovation project, had held on for the four years between the insurance company’s alarm after our purchase and the actual replacement. Not so for many other shingles around us, even those that had been replaced during those years.

My initial impression, looking at the real estate market when we started considering this move, had been that we could fit into something cheap and make do. But things were shifting.

Most homes we saw for sale had problems, either for my coconspirators or me. Many of the remodelings were utterly puzzling. Others really needed to be redone.

I wasn’t the one who zeroed in on Eastport, but now I cannot imagine anywhere else I’d want to be at this stage in my life. Maybe it’s like Swami when she came to the Poconos and felt the vibes.

The ideal of moving to an island in Maine is almost a cliché. Even a Downeast shore, or a bit to our west, like the Wyeth clan. But we did need to downsize.

At one point, my dream had been to live on a mountain lake. The ocean never even entered into the picture.

Yet here we are, surrounded by interesting people, too.

Add to my once idealistic expectations, there was this

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

My goal of having our family operating on a Quaker Meeting decision-making process.

Yes, trying to find concesus with young children in the house. We’re all on board, right?

Let’s just say I failed here. My, was a naïve when I jumped in as a stepdad in my mid-50s!

Not just because of a rebellious younger member, whom I deeply adore. But also because of the parent/adult dynamics and tensions.

No doubt, I pictured myself as the clerk, that is moderator. The mother, however, is what the one in the movie My Fat Greek Wedding Declared, the throat, ultimately rules.

Saint Paul should stand fully corrected regarding the head of the household. The mother’s is great theology.

Just how are decisions really made in families? I’d love to listen in on the discussions.

Watching the rooms take shape was especially exciting

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

There were moments when we wondered about leaving all of that space open – just one big room. Maybe something like an artsy loft apartment. But then we returned to our projected needs and the plan at hand.

As the framing and wiring and flooring moved along, as well as the drywall itself, our hopes of painting the interior in the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas got pushed back till after New Year’s. Still, we were able to sleep some of our visiting family up there in primitive conditions as the drywall taping and mudding dried, thanks to a flurry of action just before Christmas.

The two front bedrooms are nearly twice as large as ones in the back. No surprise there, since the back half also has a small hallway and the bathroom and the laundry room.

Altogether, we have twice as many electrical outlets up there than we do on the first floor. And twice as much natural light.

As for the views? Sometimes breathtaking.

The good news is that the upper level, which prompted all of this work and expense to date, is largely complete.

Yay! Yes, Phase One is in place. The part that demanded we do something, or at least have it done.

~*~

Not surprisingly, this first phase cost about three times what we budgeted and took at least three times as long as we planned. Sadly, it is a rule of thumb in these undertakings. We have arranged refinancing to assure the work will be finished in the months ahead while we have our beloved contractor, rather than trying to reschedule later, but other projects we intended were reconsidered.

Working solo, as many of the carpenters do around here, meant our contractor was moving along at a slower pace. The good news came in the appearance of an enthusiastic apprentice two or three days a week, along with a helper as needed.

Immediately ahead of us was painting the ceiling, walls, and floors and then moving our stuff out of storage and up from downstairs.

In the coming weeks, we’ll be looking at specific areas of the work inside.

At this point, we did take time to review our budget and resources, and consider modifying our direction as needed. Just getting the upstairs under control was a huge relief and accomplishment, one much larger than I had anticipated.

~*~

The most maddening item involved moving the wood-burning stove from one corner of the front parlor (aka living room) to another. It made sense for several reasons, safety for one, but also straightening out the stainless-steel chimney pipe to allow for more room in the kitchen and bedrooms above. Getting a subcontractor back to finish the job was another matter, one not uncommon problem around here, as we’re finding.

That stove is an important factor for us when it comes to the frequent electrical outages in Maine, at least in all but the summer months. And it is a major improvement in heating the house through our cold winters.

Maybe if we had decided on the emergency generator back when?

There are tradeoffs, after all.

As for the placement of electrical light switches or which way the doors opened?

Right-handed or left? Have you ever considered that? You just reach and hope, right?

~*~

We were far from finished, of course. The kitchen remained a priority, along with the adjoining mudroom. And the downstairs windows, with all of their rotting, did need to be replaced. The small downstairs bathroom and tweaks to the other rooms could, if necessary, be put on hold. Not that we’d prefer.

In the bigger picture, we’re hoping the extensive renovation of our old house assures its continuance for another 200 years or more.

There’s still a feast awaiting on this plate

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As the calendar year ends, it’s fair to ask What’s Left in your own life as you move on for the next round.

In my novel, the big question is stirred by a personal tragedy, leaving a bereft daughter struggling to make sense of her unconventional household and her close-knit extended Greek family.

In the wider picture, she’s faced with issues that are both universal and personal.

For me, it’s somehow fitting that my most recent work of fiction returns to Indiana, the place where my first novel originated before spinning off into big city subways. The state is also home to more Hodsons than anyplace else in the world, as far as I can see, not that I’ve been back in ages.

What’s Left is one of five novels I’m making available to you for free during Smashword’s annual end-of-the-year sale, which ends January First.

Get yours in the digital platform of your choice, and enter the New Year right.

For details, go to the book at Smashwords.com.

 

Christmas Eve and our tree’s up

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Ours doesn’t come indoors until the day before Christmas and rarely is it decorated before dark. Long ago I learned the price of pushing the tradition to get the job done earlier in the day. Nope, it’s not a task to be done more efficiently.

Last year, we cut ours at Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge with a permit. You’d be amazed how few natural trees measure up. We’d see a good one only to find two growing close together. Separated, they were lobsided and had bald spots. This one caught our eye but we then passed, thinking it might be too open. A mile or two or walking later, we returned and decided to give it a try after all.

Here’s to the wonders of the tradition of sitting in a mostly dark room early morning or evening and enjoying the lighted branches.