Decorating For Christmas (Part 1)

Posted on 30 November 2013 by boomanor

We seem to be just rocketing from holiday to holiday here. In between, there has been travel, work, and the eviction of squirrels. But the holidays seem to be the big landmarks marking the year.

This will be our first Christmas in the new place. So we will need to spend some time figuring out what it takes to decorate it appropriately. Given the quantity of decorations that we’ve accumulated over the years, you would think we would be well supplied. And yet, with the size of Boo Manor, I’m not entirely sure.

We used to think these were alot of Christmas decorations. Now we’re not so sure.

The Christmas decorations had been stored in the garage crawl space when we lived in Edmonton. Which meant, when it came time to pack the house, out of sight meant out of mind. We both remembered them just as we watched the moving truck drive off in the distance. So, on a subsequent trip to Edmonton, I proceeded to pack them up and ship them eastwards by bus. From there, they were stored in the crawl space above Dianne’s brother’s garage. Where they have stayed until now.

A major stash of lights, courtesy of last year’s post-Christmas sales.

We also took advantage of post-holiday sales last year to stock up on strings of Christmas lights. Meaning, specifically, that we bagged about 24 strings of lights from Walmart for a ridiculously small amount of money.

Today, it’s time to start decorating Boo Manor for the holidays. We’re starting off simply, and we’ll build up from there. But for now, we’ve chosen to decorate the old gate post at the driveway, the porch framing the dining room doorway and the main entrance way to the house. And we have polar bears. Because, well, bears.

The decorating starts easily, courtesy of pre-installed hooks.

You would think that a house the scale of Boo Manor would have plugs outside to deal with this sort of thing. And yet, you would be wrong. Of course, they didn’t actually do Christmas lights back when the house was originally built, but you would figure that someone had installed some exterior plugs in the intervening century or so. Sadly, this was not to be. Fortunately, we had the presence of mind to get an outlet wired during the renovations. So we have one electrical plug. Only one, mind you, but one will have to do for now.

Thirty-one new hooks later, and the dining room porch is starting to look pretty damned festive as well.

There were hooks in place around the main door to hang lights, although for the life of me I do not know how they were plugged in. But that at least made one task a little easier. And the polar bears, once assembled, were easily placed on the lawn. The gate post was wrapped. And that only left the dining room porch to illuminate. There is nothing quite so mind-numbing (or finger-numbing) as screwing thirty-one hooks in place, but fortunately you only have to do it once. And the results are pretty spectacular.

Welcome to Boo Manor. Friendly to bears and lovers of the holidays.

We still have a few more decorations to take care of outside, particularly an exterior tree, but we’ve made a good start. Boo Manor is starting to look festive.

Hallowe’en At Boo Manor

Posted on 31 October 2013 by boomanor

Dianne adores Hallowe’en. It is, quite possibly, her favourite holiday. Or at least, a close second; Christmas arguably edges it out for first place. Whether this is because of pumpkins, costumes or leftover candy, I am not entirely sure. But she enjoys it enormously nonetheless.

Preparing for Hallowe’en, however, we had no idea what to expect. We have now moved to a small town, that has—at best guess—about a thousand residents. We live on the edge of town. Actually, we live beyond the edge of town. While there are several clusters of houses across about four developments, we live near none of them. Head out of town, across the river, past the cul-de-sac of about a dozen houses, and then you come to us. There is one more house, the golf course, and farmers’ fields beyond that.

So how many trick-or-treaters is it reasonable to expect? If I apply the calculus that I employed as a small child, I wouldn’t darken our doors. Why take the time to go all the way to the spooky old house on the edge of town, when there are so very many more houses, all built together, in the subdivisions? At the same time, it’s Hallowe’en. And we have a spooky old house. What’s not to like about that?

This year’s theme: A Clockwork Pumpkin

With no understanding of what to expect, therefore, I stocked up as best I could. Meaning I bought about five boxes of chocolate bars, for a sum total of about 132 pieces. That way we would be at least prepared, regardless of what happened. Worse comes to worse, you start giving out three or four pieces per child (which is the other part of candy-collecting-calculus that really needs to be factored in, if you’re a kid).

Pumpkins were carved, candles were lit, candies were waiting, and we waited. And waited. And waited. After a couple of hours, a car appeared in the driveway, with Keelan, Sarah and Wyatt, their boy. Our first trick-or-treater! They were making the rounds of friends and family, and so didn’t stay long, but we were thrilled they made the effort to come out and see us. And give that a) Wyatt was a known quantity, and b) he was our first trick-or-treater, he scored pretty well in the candy department.

From there, we set to wait once more. And wait. And wait. And wait. It turns out that not only was Wyatt our first trick-or-treater, he was also our last trick-or-treater. Or, if you prefer, our only one.

Sadly, Hallowe’en was a bit of a let down. Although it was also a total win in the left-over-candy department.

Thanksgiving At Boo Manor

Posted on 14 October 2013 by boomanor

October rolled on surprisingly quickly, leaving us on the verge of our very first Thanksgiving in Boo Manor. Of course, this requires food. And wine. And food. And did I mention pumpkin pie?

Three pie pumpkins await their fate. The knife is admittedly gratuitous.

Some years ago, when we last lived in Ontario, Dianne and I had been out in Bayfield for a long weekend, and driving back through Seaforth we passed a little kid selling pumpkins. Pie pumpkins. Wee, little bundles of orange goodness. It was an enjoyable experience pulling over in a (rented) Lincoln Town Car, popping the trunk, giving him a couple of twenties and saying “We’ll take the lot.” The look on his face was priceless. And we had a lot of pumpkin that year. In fact, it lasted for about two years, if I’m completely honest.

Pie remnants. Or, if you prefer, the pre-measured makings of eight pies.

This year, I’m pleased to say that I’ve learned restraint. Well, sort of. Out for groceries, I stopped at the Woodstock farmers market for some baking pumpkin, and picked up three of them. Which seemed entirely reasonable and manageable. Except either the pumpkins have grown, or I’m not remembering well how much a pie pumpkin actually produces.

This used to be a rosemary bush. Well, it still is a rosemary bush, if you want to be technical about it.

Now, if you’re wondering how to actually do this, it’s achingly, brainlessly simple to do. Take a pie pumpkin, wrench off the stem, cleave it in half and scoop out the stringy pulp and seeds (an ice cream scoop works best for this, in my humble opinion). Place the two halves face down on a cookie sheet, and roast in a 350˚ oven for about an hour (or until it gets ridiculously soft and gooey and the skin is starting to brown). Scoop out the remaining pulp (or alternatively peal away the skin; same net effect) and puree it in a food processor. Bam. Fresh, homemade pumpkin. Which beats canned pumpkin hands down, in part because canned pumpkin is usually actually some form of squash.

When dismembered, it yielded a surprisingly small—yet adequate—supply of rosemary.

Anyway, the net result was that my three pumpkins gave up sufficient yummy goodness to make eight pies (which I subsequently put pre-measured in small freezer bags and, well, froze; it last nearly forever).

Donald and Dianne tackle veggies and smashed taters.

Thanksgiving, of course, also involves turkey. And, at least the way I do it, this also involves a stupid amount of herbs. Particularly sage and rosemary. Having been to dinner at my mother’s in Guelph just before Thanksgiving, she mentioned that she was actually getting ready to replace her rosemary plant, so I should help myself. Doing what any self-respecting chef would do, i essentially took the whole plant. This looked fairly impressive at first blush, but actually reduced down to a surprisingly small amount of actually usable rosemary. But it was enough, and that was what counted.

All too delighted to know that Thansgiving dinner is imminent.

For Thankgiving itself, most of our family and friends were away or otherwise committed to other events, so we found ourselves in a smaller group that we might otherwise welcome. But we were more than happy to have Dianne’s brother, Donald, join us for the day. He and Dianne set themselves to making smashed potatoes and veggies, and I took on stuffing, turkey and gravy. Between us, we produced a pretty damned impressive feast. Although it is always astounding how long it takes to prepare, and how amazingly quickly the meal disappears.

The turkey, she is done. And looking scrumptiously moist and well cooked.

But it was a yummy meal. With family. In our home. And that is what really counts.

The table is set. Let the feasting begin. It will be over surprisingly quickly.

Canada Day at Boo Manor!

Posted on 30 June 2013 by boomanor

We finally moved in to Boo Manor at the end of May. Although, truth be told, I have yet to spend as many nights in Boo Manor as I have spent away. But I’m working on it.

Our first holiday weekend (that didn’t involve moving cats, clothes and foodstuffs) was this past weekend. Apparently, Canada Day is a big deal in Innerkip. Certainly the local events calendar would imply as much: parade, beer gardens, slow-pitch tournament, a firefighters’ breakfast and a soap box derby, to name but a few of the events on the weekend calendar. You can pretty much be busy from the time you wake to well past the time that you should have been in bed.

The long weekend was also the first weekend in a good long while for Dianne and I to just stop and unwind. Which meant that by 9:00am on Saturday morning, we had done very little indeed. I was having coffee, the cats were fed, and it was as yet unclear whether Dianne was even a wake. A few minutes later, however, the phone rang; Gene was inviting us over to watch the parade from their place. When did it start? “10:00am.” And how late can we actually get through and be able to park in their driveway? “Oh… around 5 minutes to 10 should be fine, but if you’re later you can probably just tell the cop blocking the road that you’re going to that driveway right there.”

Five minutes before the parade. The main drag is still astonishingly quiet.

Dianne went from zero to caffeinated with remarkable speed, and we were actually out the door at about 9:45am. Which had us pulling in Gene’s driveway at about 9:47am. It really doesn’t take long to get anywhere in this town. We were, in fact, the first ones to arrive.

It’s time to get this party started.

For a 10:00am parade, things were awfully laid back. People started drifting to the roadway to take up a viewing position a few minutes before the hour. The OPP officer that was there to block traffic finally pulled up to the side of the road about 2 minutes to 10:00am. And sure enough, at 10:01 am, he pulled out across the road to block traffic for the duration of the parade.

An entirely creative maple leaf, made of vegetable boxes.

The parade was a delightful mix of floats, vehicles, marchers, bicycles, firetrucks, tractors and just about anything else that you could imagine wheeling or walking down the main thoroughfare. I’m not entirely sure what the criteria are to march in the parade, but I imagine they are fairly liberal. There were ancient tractors spewing exhaust. Antique cars ferrying local MPs. Local folk driving their hotrods and pickups. Kids on bicycles. Floats that ranged from the amusingly hilarious to the hilariously amusing.

He’s going to be awfully tired by the end of the parade, I fear.

Impressively, Innerkip has a bagpipe and drum corps.

The local bagpipe and drum corps. With kilts and aviator shades.

We also saw Oxford County’s Queen of the Furrow (aboard a tractor advertising the Oxford County Plowmen’s upcoming plowing match in July). And a local farm had very creatively assembled a giant maple leaf out of vegetable boxes.

The Queen of the Furrow. That would be a farming reference, just to be clear.

The highlight for many of the kids along the route was the firetruck that came at the end of the parade. The local fire brigade’s pumper, it featured a member of the volunteer fire department wielding a very active fire hose. Many of the local children gleefully went out of their way to get as completely and utterly soaked as possible, and within minutes looked like drowned rats—ecstatic drowned rats that were eager for more.

A firehose, an mused fireman and eager children. What could possibly go wrong?

A little while later, and the parade receded into the distance, wet pavement and the odd popsicle left in its wake. It was a pretty awesome welcome to the local community, and a hilarious way to start the weekend. Innerkip may be small, but it has a massive amount of community spirit, and it isn’t afraid to show it.

And that about wraps it up for another year. The parade recedes in the distance.

And We Have A Dining Room

Posted on 30 June 2013 by boomanor

The dining room has been an on-going source of uncertainty since we bought Boo Manor. Not that we didn’t know it was a dining room. Just that we weren’t sure what to do with it.

We had the cabinet from the kitchen refinished over the winter, and that would serve as an anchor for the dining room. It had been stained a rich, medium brown and had turned out fabulously. The colour fit the room well, and the cabinet had the weight and stature necessary to hold the room together.

This defined the essence of our problem: the dining room is huge. Probably about 16 feet wide and 20 feet long (and with six-and-a-half doors in it, must to complicate things a little more). Not just any dining room table was going to work here; it would need to be something of stature.

We had a dining room table and chairs, of course. But they were in storage, and had been for nearly two years. We didn’t know the dimensions of the table, all we knew was that it was oak, had four leaves and would not work in its current colouring (it was natural, unstained and far too light for the new dining room). The thinking was to wait and see how it looked in the dining room, and if it was big enough then we would get it refinished as well.

Come moving day, once we were finally reunited with our old table, the answer quickly became clear: there was no way that the table would work. It was almost embarrassingly small, sort of like it was the little kids’ table in the adult dining room. There was no amount of refinishing that would actually make it work.

So began the hunt for a new dining room table. We wanted something with a rustic feel to it, because the house—while formal—was still a farmhouse. The table needed to have presence, and it needed to be big enough not to be swallowed up by the room. Our original thought had been to search out some of the mennonite furniture builders in the area, in that their furniture was of the style we were looking for and we might be able to find something in the size we needed.

As luck would have it, however, during a trip to Toronto we happened to see a television ad for an imminent sale at Stoney Creek Furniture. We’d been there before, and had ordered a couple of chairs and both of our desks from them. They had good furniture, good service, and they were offering 40% off anything on the showroom floor.

And now we have a respectable looking dining room table.

At 8:20am that Saturday morning we walked in their front door. By 8:30am we had found our table. There were really only two prospects, and the first was still too small. The second table we saw, however, was perfect. It had a trestle base, and a hand scraped finish that reflected the rustic feel we were going for. And the chairs were immensely comfortable. Apparently, the table had only come in the previous month; in normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have been on sale. But when you put everything on your showroom floor up for sale, even the new stuff comes under the category of ‘everything’.

A table of substance! No longer the little kids’ table in the big persons’ dining room.

The dining room was one of the last rooms we had to finish. We’re pleased to say that it is looking well finished indeed.

Still Here

Posted on 23 June 2013 by boomanor

Wow. Then that happened. And that. And that. And that.

When last you heard from us, we had just finished moving day (part 1), and the repatriation of all of our stuff from storage. Some of which we remembered, some of which we did not, and some of which just plain confused us.

What has past since has been a whirlwind of unpacking, more deliveries, scratching our heads about where things should go, deciding, undeciding, business travel, more unpacking, and trying to find normal on the other side. As you might infer, I’m not sure that we are all the way there yet.

But we are still here, and so is the site. It’s now transitioning, in a way. We built it to share the story of renovating Boo Manor. But now we are in, and getting settled, and there are still lots of stories to be told. So going forward , the site will focus on living in and maintaining a 140 year old house. In a small town. While leading busy(ish) lives. And did I mention maintenance?

Stay tuned.

Boo Manor

What happens when two refugees from the city buy a mid-nineteenth century house?! Can't imagine anything will be straightforward.

Category Archives: Living