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Showing posts with label north fork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label north fork. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

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.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

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.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ckpsEEaE7z321oFo-R_FqVPbgJdHZYUQtf0__0tXbRnSOplQdP1L9NV9zHO9FSsQas26_cHUWs6ElRxG9RQcnBll756SD0ean_AF4m6CEHaDLetymuWIcdbuvENSsE5qx3_h3U0iy1bf/s1600/VintageEyeGraphicsFairy2.jpg
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!  

Monday, October 15, 2012

Farmstand Veggies and A Beach House Cigar


Where were we this weekend?


  No, not at a flower show.
Farmstand Flowers, Orient, NY

We were stalking things like this:
Possible captions for this picture:
1) "I told you not to touch that frog!  Next time listen to your mother."
2) "Hey, Doc, you got a salve for this?"
3) "What do you mean, I'm not Jack O'Lantern material?"
4) Getting the blue ribbon this fall, the gourd submitted by the Federal Government's
Plum Island Animal Disease Research facility, just off shore . . . .

What would your caption be?
 *************************************
Yup, we were out on eastern Long Island.
We gathered, 11 of us, at the beach house,
to celebrate niece Mary's 22nd birthday.
It's been a long time since that many people stayed overnight in that house.
We should do it more often!

My sister Peggy, her husband Bill, Howard and I did some farm stand stalking. 
We headed east to Sep's in East Marion and Latham's in Orient.

When I look at this picture, a dozen remarks spring to mind.
None of which is blog fodder.

Don't ask me what I think when I look at this over-achiever.

My sister made friends with some weeny-teeny-mini veggies.

***********************************
Vegetables in the Fall look like they've just
tumbled out of a Dutch Old Master's canvas.

There is such bounty.

Summer's last hurrah, and those veggies that will go the distance and last into the winter months.

Peggy was so fond of this tiny purple pepper (and it is smaller than it looks in the picture),
that the farm stand lady gave it to her, along with a pinky-finger sized lavender eggplant.
This was a good thing, as we didn't want Peggy crying on the way home without her new friends.

Cauliflower season is in full swing, and James Beard and I agree:
Long Island Cauliflower is the bomb.

And sometimes it is even a bargain.
I did not make this up.  Scout's honor.

Oh dear.  At Sep's, they have painted the almost-a-word "PUNKINS" on a display.
Do we forgive them for being too cute?  Yes, because pumpkins just are that cute.

We piled all our vegetables and funky punky pumpkins into the red minivan,
and headed back to the beach house.  After a mile or so . . . Sniff sniff.
And . . . the unmistakable scent of cauliflower perfumed the air.
When we were kids, we'd hold our breath passing the cauliflower fields.
Although they weren't nearly as bad as the duck farms used to be!

Back at the beach house,
Howard headed for the bench on our lawn.
Long, late afternoon shadows . . . the days are so much shorter now.  Bummer.

He was checking out the unusually low tide.
Accompanied by a cigar.


It was a terrific weekend, and we'll probably be back next weekend,
taking advantage of those last glorious, mild Fall
weekends before Winter blows in and makes us all crabby.
If by "us all" we mean "me."
************************************************
Visit Mary at Little Red House for Mosaic Monday.
************************************************
Coming up in a day or so, a TOH blog post about an enchanted village.
Really.  Including Indians and little people.
Happy New Week!   -- Cass