We’re Gettin’ There

Here are the latest pictures of the house.  I changed the siding color at the last minute because I’ve always been a little iffy about the clay color I was originally going to go with. I’ve found, in my decorating experience, that if I’m hesitating about something, I’m usually going to regret going ahead and doing it anyway. I’m not sorry I went with Savannah Wicker instead. It turned out gorgeous with the white trim. It’s starting to really look like the cute little cottage I had envisioned in my head. I have to do a quick little plug for RCK Construction. They’ve done such fast, exceptional work. Together with the farmer, they’ve made something tangible from my little idea and it’s everything I was thinking of. I believe I heard Ryan (our contractor) say one more week and he’s done with everything we hired him to do. After that, it’s just me and the farmer. If we don’t have any hang-ups, it’s projected that I will finally get to live with my husband again by around April 15th.

This is the front door I ordered. It was one of the more expensive things the farmer let me get away with. (I try him on every hand. Every chance I get. I get told “no” and “that’s not possible” a lot. Then I pout. ) I wanted a Craftsman-style door. I love Craftsman style houses. Tapered pillars. Rock work. Big wooden doors with glass. This door also has a little shelf that attaches right under the window. It’s darling. There’s a lot about the Craftsman style that’s very masculine. And being female, there’s something so cozy about that. Coming home to a house that wraps you up and protects you in it’s big, safe shell. Makes me think of my barrel-chested farmer and his big, strong arms.  Not to mention that the farmer and I both like this style of architecture because it seems to be the perfect blend of both our styles. He wouldn’t like that I wrote this, but the man has some decorating sense. I believe it to be so. He agrees with me 100% when I pick out things…98% of the time. And if he doesn’t like it, I tell him he has awful taste and walk away from it. Our home is filled with things we both very much like.

Back to the door,  don’t you just love the color? That beautifully awful mauve?

Don’t worry. That’s the primer color. Pink doors aren’t really my thing, but chocolate-brown ones are. It’s got a wood-grain texture, too, so it’s going to look really good once I get it painted.

Ryan threw this in for free just because he wanted to try something. He stamped our front porch and glazed? (I don’t know if that’s the correct terminology) it a really pretty brown color. It’s kinda’ dusty and dirty in this picture, but it looks really good and adds a lot more character than a plain ol’ gray cement porch could ever do. Seeing this made me want faux rock steps up to it and I think I’m gonna’ get ’em. Tee hee.

This is walking into the house through the front door. The living room starts as you walk in and that little square area with the sliding glass door is the kitchen. As you can see, it’s quite tiny. Building on is definitely in the cards for us.

Peanut’s future room.

The guest bedroom.

The bathroom.

The master bedroom. I couldnt get a full shot from the door but it goes to the left a little ways, too. It’s not as miniscule as the picture makes it look. It’s got a little alcove in the corner of wall behind the door where I’ll have a built-in bookcase.

This is the back of the house. The deck is the farmer’s favorite part of the house because he has a nice view of the pasture (read: where the deer reside.) I like this view, too, albeit for different reasons. We’re surrounded by towering pines and clear, grassy pastures that Ozark Mountains seem to just jut out of. The rugged beauty never gets old.

That’s the grand tour currently! It takes all of about 20 seconds to see the whole house.

What it’s lacking in size, though, is what it will not be lacking in cuteness.

I just can’t wait,

The Dairymaid

History in the Making

A few weeks ago, we had some pretty major demolition done in preparation for the building of our new little house on the farm. If you haven’t seen it yet, here’s the link: http://the-dairy-maid.com/2011/05/23/the-little-house/ We’re about a month out from starting the build, but we had to go ahead and get the site cleared and ready. We killed two birds with one stone since the farmer had a few, massive dead trees that he wanted pushed out.

This is the childhood home of the farmer. Obviously, no one has lived in it for years and everything has grown up, but this is where all the farmer’s boyhood memories were made.

This is also the home in which the farmer’s father was raised. Eventually, my father-in-law bought the farm from his parents so they could buy a house in town. It’s here that he and my mother-in-law started a family and made all the wonderful memories that come from raising kids and making a life together. Bless my mother-in-law’s heart, she couldn’t watch as the old house came down. We couldn’t blame her.

I had never really seen a bulldozer at work. I was awestruck. The pure power and strength that this piece of machinery possessed was amazing to me. If ever there were a sexy peice of machinery, a bulldozer would totally be it! One little push and those old, dead trees fell to the ground. The house was a little different, which goes to show how well-built it was. It came apart in sections, just the way it had been built onto.

Peanut had to be right in the middle of everything, too. She doesn’t like to miss out.

This was taken while he was pushing out the trees. She was loving it!

This was taken right after the last push that brought it all down. I asked the farmer how he felt about it all. “I’m fine because all the memories will always be right up here,” he said as he tapped his temple. “The old house needed to come down. It was in bad shape.”

We left the old smokehouse back there for the farmer’s brother-in-law who wants to take it apart and put it back together on his land. Otherwise, the site is cleaned up and ready to go.

My feelings were bittersweet during the demolition. A part of me felt really bad for tearing down something that signified memories. A life built. A building that served in the making of the 2nd and 3rd generation of this farm.The home where a man and his wife raised their 5 children. Then again, I was also excited. Excited that a new home would be built here. A cycle will continue. A Krider is still running this place and the fourth generation will be raised here and prepared to take it over if they so decide. I’m imperative in this because those little Kriders will be mine, the ones that I help bring into the world. To me, this house signifies a fresh start for the farmer and I and a new beginning for whatever’s to come with this land and the ones next in line to have it.

The old house was a part of the past, a lot of history there. That history made my husband the man he is today. One I can’t help but think the older generations would be proud of.  The new house is history in the making, the continuing line of this family farm. And if that’s not exciting, I don’t know what is.

Oddly emotional,

The Dairymaid

Copyright. Breauna Krider. 10/31/11