W.O.W. (Way Out West) weekend...

 Last Christmas Chris gifted me with three "Golden Tickets." One of them was for a "Romantic Weekend Getaway." He plotted and planned, and the second weekend in October he whisked me off to collect on my gift. I didn't know what our destination was, except it would be to the west of home. We left early on Saturday, stopped in Augusta to run a few errands, then headed off down some beautiful roads. The day was sunny and fine, and the foliage stunning. 

We drove for about 2 hours, past lakes and over hills, viewing vistas that had me sighing happily. After a while we reached a picturesque little town and I said, "Oh, this is cute. We should come explore here sometime." Chris grinned delighedly as he turned into the driveway of a beautiful inn. "I'm glad you like it, this is where we are staying." 

It was a little too soon to check in so we rode around until we found a likely place to grab a bite of lunch. After we checked in we walked around the glorious grounds, checked out where the heated outdoor pool was, and explored a bit.  We enjoyed a nice supper that evening, then went to our suite where we sat before a warm fire and listened to a wild thunderstorm rage outside. It was lovely. 

The next morning we visited a fabulous bakery and grabbed freshly made bagels to go, then off we went. 

The plan for this day was to explore Rangeley. Neither of us had been there before. I wish I could describe what a gift the light was that day as we drove. The birch trees fairly glowed, their bark bright as if they were lit from within, their leaves looking as if they were ignited. 

Rangeley is in the lakes region, and we were treated to views of rivers and lakes around almost every turn. 

This pretty female Mallard duck walked right up, so close I could feel her feathers brush past my ankle. 

The scenery was so incredible, I kept saying, "Wow," over and over again. Chris swooped his car off at an overlook. 

We drank this vista in like it was fine wine. The sun was warm on our faces, but the air hovered just above freezing. Giddy with beauty, we continued on, back down the mountain to where the foliage still shone in all its October splendor. 

In Rangeley we walked up and down the main street, popped into a store or two, and had a magnificent lunch on a deck overlooking the lake. Then we traveled a different route back to our inn, with more scenes that made me utter, "Wow." 

I found this full sized horse statue in Bethel. 

On it's face it has the Emerson quote, "The earth laughs in flowers." 

I decided that in the fall, it chortles with leaves.

We headed for the heated pool. Once I was in, Chris vanished. I swam laps, my head in the cool fall air, my body in the deliciously warm water. I had the place to myself, except for a small group of little girls who were playing mermaid off to one side of the pool. Their mothers supervised from lounge chairs, wearing fleece jackets and cozy scarves. "My name will be Rosa," said one little fish to the others, but you can call me Rosie." Another said, "My mermaid name is Isabella, but you can call me Bella." The littlest one, her arms clasped around the neck of a bigger girl loudly announced, "And there is an ARMY OF UNICORNS!" I chuckled and thought back fondly to the days I had my own wee mermaid. 

Chris returned and handed me a delicious glass of Grand Mariner. We canoodled and sipped, then finally dragged ourselves into the chilly air and headed back to our room. I stopped by the patient mothers and said, "I enjoyed your girls so much." One said, "Oh, we were hoping they were not bothering you!" The other said, "We were a little jealous, you out there by yourself, enjoying your drink, with no kids demanding your attention." I assured them that I was not at all bothered, and said, "I enjoyed my time alone today, but don't be in a rush, this season with little kids will pass so quickly." 

The seasons are flying by. Chris makes me stop to enjoy them by planning special times like this. This Golden Ticket weekend was a lottery winner. 

Freshening up...

 We loved this house when we moved here 17 years ago, but little by little we have been making changes to make it more "ours." One area that has vexed me since the beginning was the laundry room and guest bath. The laundry room had indoor/outdoor carpet that smelled like dirty diapers. I tore it out early on, and painted the plywood subfloor, but it was impossible to keep clean and looked horrible. The bathroom had a tolerable linoleum floor, but I didn't like it very much. Both rooms had built in cabinets. We tore out the one in the bathroom early on and put a bureau there. It was useful but didn't look good. The cabinets in the laundry room were deep, things put there got "lost" in the back. The washer/dryer blocked one of  the doors and made it hard to access. Meanwhile the big closet in the room had a nice shelf on top of it that ended up being a place where we crammed blankets, quilts and other linens. It looked messy, disorganized and things put there were hard for me to access. 

This spring I decided that both spaces were really quite nice, but so unattractive I didn't enjoy being in them. I didn't want to spend a lot of money to do a major overhaul, but it occurred to me that changing out the floor would make a huge difference. I picked out some laminate that looked like whitewashed planks and ordered it. The day the men came to install them, they got the floor started then called me up, "Your house is old and uneven. This floor will be ruined in 6 months. You will be better off with linoleum." They tore up what I had chosen and I was back at square #1. I changed up the plan I had, and went for a rather bright pattern of versatile linoleum instead of the very plain look I originally had in mind. 

Meanwhile, a carpenter friend came and tore out all the built in's. A neighbor friend came and fixed the several dry wall problems the rooms had. It took a while for the floor to come in, but one happy day they came and did a beautiful job installing it. The whole place was so much brighter!  The carpenter came back and put up trim where it was missing. I ordered new light fixtures to replace the very unattractive ones that we had, and my curmudgeon of an electrician came and put them up for me. Next a coat of paint, (color masterfully chosen by interior designer niece Elyse to harmonize with the floor)  made everything look clean and fresh. 

During all this time I spied a vintage sink at an "antique" place. It was outside, and pretty rough. 

 I could imagine it replacing the oh so ugly sink and vanity. For $50 we brought it home. 

The plumbers came and installed it. They put in a new faucet for me, too. 

This entire project started in May or June. Today it is almost finished. Instead of dreading to be in the laundry room, I find excuses to go there now. Clean, organized, bright and pretty, it is a space that makes me happy to be in.  

Niece Aimee found this marvelous painted bureau in New Hampshire, and picked it up for us. I think a small lamp will look good there, I'm on the hunt! Big wicker baskets collect clothes waiting to be washed and dried.

In the bathroom the old sink with its new faucets stands proud under the new lights and a simple oval mirror. A vintage bassinet holds guest towels, tissues, lotion and travel sized toothpaste along with new toothbrushes. Things to make a visitor feel welcome. 

We found this metal dry sink years ago at a yard sale for a song. It looks pretty under the sky light. 

The adorable vintage medicine cabinet came up on Facebook Marketplace. It was a dirty putty color. Hannah and I painted it one sunny afternoon sitting at the picnic table. We made the inside a sweet pale blue. The back of the mirror has someone's name and "1935" drawn on it. A marvelous hand made treasure. 

The new floor I had in mind blossomed into something a little bit larger, but we are pleased with the end result. 

Owning a home means never-ending projects, constant freshening up. This particular freshening was a bit of creative fun. 

Fond Farewell...

 In early August friend Hannah came to visit. Covid had put college on hold, so she was doing a little traveling. Maine agreed with her and she stayed a while. 

She spent time exploring the area. She taught herself to knit socks, read a stack of books, painted and wrote and created. She went to Acadia National Park many times, hiking its stunning trails. She kayaked and swam, reorganized all my kitchen cabinets and was a pleasant guest. Her mom, Angel, flew to Maine last week, and worked from here, fitting in a few little fun trips with her daughter. She brought some of her bread starter with her and baked beautiful loaves of fragrant sour dough while she was here. Yesterday they loaded up Hannah's car and headed south. But they promised to come back to our happy place next summer, and we will look forward to that. 

The house feels strangely empty when guests leave. Chris and I enjoy each others company, but it's always a little sad when we see friends or family roll out of the driveway. They leave echoes of laughter behind, and we are enriched by their being here. 

In this case, Angel left a loaf of her peerless bread. I turned it into French Toast this morning. It was incredible. 

Now we get back to our normal pattern of life. There are things to do to get ready for winter... wood to stack and things to make the animal houses warmer when the temperature drops. Today we will start off on those chores, just the two of us, but nourished by the visit of special friends.