I Love The Smell of Spray Paint In The Morning

Pssstt. . . Wanna buy a beach house?

Yes, we are selling the family beach house
on eastern Long Island's North Fork.  

And you know what that means: it's all hands on deck to make 
a family-friendly house look as if no one lives there, or ever did.

Weekend before last, we 4 siblings and our spouses 

gathered and cleared out any remaining stuff.

We eight are rarely all in one place at the same time, as we are 

scattered along the East Coast, and it was great to be together.

Selling this property, which our parents bought in 1969, isn't easy.

But sometimes you have to do what's practical and logical.

That's just how things are.

This past holiday weekend, Howard and I were joined by

my sister Peggy and her husband Bill, as we set the stage for selling.  

Goodbye old porcelain knobs, hello brushed nickel.  A new look for the kitchen cabinets.

Staging a house for sale is a strange process.

You erase most of what made that house a real home.

Gone are the photographs, the mementos, the little cards tucked

into picture frames, the worn or threadbare towels and bedding,

the mismatched china and gas station drinking glasses,

and all the quirky, bizarre stuff that every family acquires over time.

Enter, Pottery Barn.

You get as close as you can to a generic, pared-down, 

won't-offend-anyone style. This is just good common sense; 

the house looks fresh, and pretty, and anonymous.

 Prospective buyers can visualize their own worn out junk in the rooms.

Now, what is Howard doing on the floor with sharp pointy things?

This heron knows what's going on.

 "Look Ma!  I'm a padded headboard!"

Having neither artwork nor a headboard for the master bedroom,

we brought out plywood, spray adhesive, batting,

fabric, and (of course) staple guns.  Ta-da!

It bothers me that the heads of the upper birds are "cut off"
because I had to wrap the fabric to the back, and their little
birdy heads were too close to the selvedge.  Gotta fix this.

I added a heavy white cotton matelasse bed cover, extra pillows,

and silky-smooth high thread count sheets in a deep sandy tan.

I need to add lamps, and tweak this room, but it's getting there.

(All bedding borrowed from guest rooms at That Old House,

so don't come visit us till the beach house is sold!)

Up until Monday morning, the bedside tables were dark mahogany.  

2-1/2 coats of Rustoleum's 2X spray paint in semi-gloss white,

much of which is lining my lungs, and they are transformed.

The nightstands that had been there were in fine condition, but very dated in that old 60s colonial

style.  These now-white tables are less of a dark solid presence, more airy and light.

I did not get pictures of all the rooms.  (You're welcome.)

Two twin beds, both wearing vintage cotton matelasse coverlets 

that I got at auctions; one from eBay, one at a house auction.

Simple and sweet.

Can't you see two little kids cozying in to sleep in this room?

Across the hall, what used to be called the crib room 

no longer has a crib, but it has a new bed, and like all the guest rooms

at the beach house it has an empty chest of drawers, an empty closet,

and a chair so you don't have to sit on the bed to tug on your socks!

The cotton cover on that fresh-washed comforter is
too wrinkly, so I'll replace it with another one
from TOH next weekend.  Hey, it's a process.

This room, the former sewing room, is looking a bit sad.

I brought a king size coverlet by mistake.

Have you ever put a king size spread on a twin size bed?

It is hi-larry-us.  And, it does not work.

This room has a fabulous view across Corey Creek

and Laughing Waters, out to Peconic Bay..

No shabby bedding can take that away from it!

At the front of the house, on the second floor, there's a family room.

We cleared out any extra furniture, hung a big vintage nautical chart,

my comedian husband "staged" 3 decoys having a pow-wow

on the coffee table . . .

and we arranged a simple tablescape in the corner

by the stairs to the loft, 

and hung a small painting as part of the vignette.

Very simple and plain, no frills up here!

The view is the star on this level of the house.

Well, that's enough for today's tour!

Anne and I will be out to Southold this coming weekend,

to finish the last of the prep, and get this show on the road.

Thank you, Mom and Pop, for providing this wonderful refuge

for our family for so many years.  I'm especially grateful that our

daughters got to know what it's like to live at the shore, tuned in

to nature's rhythms and magic; there's no place more wondrous.

-- Cass

Link Parties!
Yes, it is not Monday, but I didn't have computer access yesterday, so I get a Do-Over!
Susan at Between Naps on the Porch is the brains behind Metamorphosis Monday.  Here!
. . . and because it is actually Tuesday . . .
Marty at A Stroll Thru Life has Inspire Me Tuesday to motivate us!  Here.

A Village Time Forgot, AND Pink Is Not My (Eye) Color

I think I mentioned a couple of days ago that my husband Howard has been 

dealing with a both-eyes case of viral conjunctivitis, or Pink Eye.

Howard always shares so generously with me.

That's all I'm saying, except that Pink, in this case, is definitely not my color.

And now, today's post.  Don't worry - no pictures of me!  Or either of my eyes.

*************************

There are places you visit that call you back.
Again, and again.

One of those places, for me, is the hamlet of Oysterponds
in Orient, near the very end of Long Island's North Fork.

Things change slowly, if at all, in Oysterponds.

The original 5 families who received their land grants from the

English King in the 1600s and settled the area still live there.

Well, their descendants live there . . . .

Salt air can do a lot to keep you healthy, but it has its limits.

Oysterponds is about a 20-minutes' drive east.
along a beautiful road, from our family beach house.

A tiny village with narrow roads, nearly every house is old.

17th, 18th, 19th century old.

The older houses are small and hug the earth; most are

Cape Cod style.  Like the houses built by the Pilgrims,

these houses were built to withstand the bufferings of ocean winds.

Turncoat Benedict Arnold staged raids

on Patriot controlled Connecticut from Oysterponds.

Peconic Bay nearly surrounds the hamlet.

In the far distance, Long Island's South Fork, home to the famous Hamptons.

One of the original families, the Tuthills, had a number of "little people" born in the 19th century.
 They were not hidden away, and they did not become sideshow or circus performers,
which was the fate of most Little People of their time.
Instead, they were part of the Oysterponds community, and the family built them houses,
on a smaller scale.  The women were seamstresses, and Addison (I think the only man)
was a farmer, and he was smaller than Mr. Barnum's Colonel Tom Thumb.
Addison turned down lucrative offers from Mr. Barnum, choosing a life of hard work and dignity,
growing his Brussels sprouts and potatoes and cauliflower in Orient, part of his community.

I just love the heavy moldings on this little front door.

My kids used to love to visit Oysterponds.  In fact, they still do.

There's a shop called The Candyman, just before you turn

off the Main Road onto Village Lane.  Stop if you go.

 I visit for the houses;
the homemade chocolates are just a bonus.

Oysterponds is on my list of

Places I Want to Live When I Grow Up.

 I think I better get going on that, huh?

Cass

And thanks to Karen, The Graphics Fairy, for the antique eye image!  

. . . What Wonderful Worlds

I have decided that I actually must do some cleaning
today, or OSHA will shut me down.

So today is mostly pictures.  From here at That Old House, and from

the East End of Long Island, where our family has a beach house.

This is a glimpse at our two worlds.

***************************************
It's September -- nearly Autumn.

Tell that to our tough New Jersey geraniums.

They are a little anemic -- their scarlet is fading -- but they soldier on.

Here, they cuddle up to some Autumn Joy Sedum, just beginning its blushing bloom,
and one of the world's truly unattractive plants.
It is only outclassed in that category by ornamental cabbage.

At That Old House, most of the summer flowers are now kaput.

Searing heat, roaring Irene, vicious weeds,

hungry deer, and cruel neglect heartlessly caused their grisly demise.
How many more adjectives could I have fit into that sentence?  Hey, they're free!

Not fading yet are the wax begonias around the sunroom foundation.
Wax begonias are either too stupid

or too stubborn to know that their day is done.

Disclaimer:  Alida and Josh planted these for me.  I went shopping.

I don't really like wax begonias, but I we plant them because, gosh darn it,

they are such plucky little plants.  No matter what, they live.

I like that.  And so do the bees.

Ladies and gents, I think we have been mooned.

 Behind the house, the old rambling rose
is the latest all-you-can-eat buffet for the deer.

I don't get the appeal, but then I'm not a deer.
Just a dear.
I can hear the groans right through my computer screen.

One final That Old House picture from today:

We still have the old de-commissioned shutters that were taken off the house when it was painted.
What do you think we should do with them?
Sadly, they are too big to use as Christmas Tree ornaments.


***********************************

In our other world . . . on the beautiful North Fork, Howard and I

took a picnic breakfast to a stretch of Long Island Sound beach in Southold.

 A seagull soared overhead.

 Ah.  Now we know why he (she?) was in such a hurry.  Whew!

So if it's Boys on the left and Girls on the right ... who uses that middle door?  Can't be the gulls; they use the roof.

Howard lusted in his heart for this sailboat.

Over on the Peconic Bay side of Southold, I lusted in my heart

for the beautiful big white houses across from Founders' Landing.

How cute is this one, with its own lighthouse?

In both northern New Jersey, and out on the Island,
the green of summer is beginning to get that early Fall gilding of gold.
Leaves are starting to turn.


But don't panic yet.
We still have one week and two days before Summer is officially over.


Like that bee on the begonia, let's make the most of it.  -- Cass

Link Parties!
Outdoor Wednesday at A Southern Daydreamer ... click here!
White Wednesday at Faded Charm ... click here!
Wednesday is Rednesday at It's A Very Cherry World ... click here!

P.S.  For those of you not in the USA, an explanation:  OSHA stands for the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, one of our beloved, bloated and bullying Federal agencies.  In fact, I think that's on its letterhead.