On the Pilchuck - Back to Basics

Kind of hard to see the photos come in to my email from our general contractor.  But we knew we had to get to this point, and better sooner than later I suppose.

With the disappointing arson investigation not going anywhere fast (as near as we can tell), we are step-by-step working the details out with our insurance adjuster and general contractor and have retained the services of an architect to put it all back together and give us a future to dream of, back out on the Pilchuck.

With the estimates in for demolition and the requisite permits and financial transactions set-up, I gave the go-ahead to dip into some the insurance funds to get a skip loader and a couple of trucks to load up with splinters and charred flotsam that was the Cook home from 1960 until the place was burned down in retribution on Halloween, 2016.  Sue had requested that a little something of 'what once was' be set aside prior to the clearing of the lot in anticipation of rebuilding.  She asked that the kitchen vent fan and the rhododendron by the kitchen window be saved if possible.  The word came back that the kitchen fan was destroyed in the fire, but the rhody, they would try and transplant and keep it out from going under the blade of the demo team.

Once the wicked winter weather of 2017 turned from snow and ice into just merely an abundance of rain and the usual mud; the work was scheduled in mid-March. 

Looking down onto the basement slab from about where the dining room window once was.

Just basement slab and surrounding concrete foundation remains.
We will rebuild upon the original foundation.

We were offered the option of taking a lump sum settlement of the depreciated actual cash value of the 57-year old structure, or getting the amount of funds up to the limit of our full coverage paid out over the process of rebuilding the house.  The decision was quick and simple, we would leave too much money on the table if we took the lump sum, so it was time to invest in a future back out at the Cook home place.

We are putting together a new floor plan, trying to stay within (or more likely, kind of close) to a budget dictated by the insurance settlement.  Our fist blush estimate is that we will have a new house up by this Fall.  Reluctantly, we will have to yet open it up, brand new fresh and clean to a set of renters once again; at least until we are ready to make the leap to the Northwest.  I am not excited about having a new bunch of renters in our place, but they will help pay the bills and ease the financial strain for a little while.  The question has to be asked, are there any decent people who rent and respect their rental home?  From what I hear and have experienced, they are but few and as frequent as frog's teeth. 

Up and at 'em

I do not mind the bright, cheery dandelions that sprout in my yard.  They are thought to be weeds, but 'weed' is an arbitrary assignment by those of smaller minds, hard definitions and exclusionary thoughts as to possibilities and beauty.

My dandelions come in mid-winter and beckon the tortoise brothers hibernating under the secretary in our breakfast nook.  Several generation of these yellow constellations come and go into the long-necked fragile globe of puffy seed balls before the tortoises rise from their October slumber to join the feast.  As always, the dandelions were waiting in full glory on Sunday, March 19, when both Isaac and Chomper sleepily pushed their little turtle butts into the middle of the kitchen.

Turtle Butts
Hibernating in our kitchen from October through March
Dandelions are ready for the Spring Breakfast Feast!

Both still groggy when found in front of the sink, I welcomed them to Spring of 2017 and and plucked them off the floor and placed them in a sunny patch of delicious dandelions.  They began to munch flowers and leaves and all seemed right and good in the backyard world.

Chomper in a 5-month deep sleep under the Kitchen Secretary

The Garden Beet

"... and the beat goes on"; so sang Sonny and Cher. La de da de de, la de de da de da...

We sing to to a different beet.  The beet of the winter garden, la da de da de....

A mild winter, a little rain at the right thyme and Sue has produced a pretty peck of produce.  She tugged and pulled and the beets popped out plump and purple, primed for pickling.  

Wash off the dirt, slice 'em up thin and put 'em some jars of pickle juice and then at dinner time we sing the lyrics - ...and the beet goes on and on the table, la de da de da...

Time to plant the summer garden of tomatoes, peppers, banana squash, okra, herbs, artichokes, asparagus.  And yes, the beat goes on...

Tulip Time

Daffodils come into their own in Sue's garden in the first week of February, tulips will follow and try and out-do the early rising bulbs.  Many are planted, but few are brought to full bloom - is it 'bad seed' or is it the dastardly work of the squirrel pack that is always rooting around in our yard and taking the bulbs and the pecans?

Sue got a couple of showy blooms from her tulip effort this winter, with the tulips first blooming in a bright yellow, then transforming over the succeeding days into the low frequency end of the visible light spectrum; going from the first blush of yellow and then into oranges that deepen, approaching a red-persimmon before the petals fall to the ground.

A splash of color around our front porch, well worth the effort.