Edges Like Sea Glass

By Leah LaRocco

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A Terrifying Event

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Sometimes you buy a house and things like this show up inside of it.  They have evil glowing orbs for eyes.  Their very existence terrifies the crap out of you, scares you to tears even, but you still have to deal with them.

And your lazy, useless, good-for-nothing cats just sit there like, “What do you want us to do about it?”  Heartless bastards.

So you get the fly swatter out and hack at the thing like it’s about to eat your next of kin.  Little pools of blood appear on the linoleum.  And then you think, “What if there are more of them?”  So you begin to move the mountain of tools that have accumulated in your dining room and lo and behold, TWO more of these creatures have been exercising squatters rights in YOUR home, like that woman in New Jersey who just moved into this other person’s house after finding out they were in Europe for a year.  I digress…

You see one heading for shelter beneath the fridge and grab the nearest weapon handy…the vacuum.  You suck the living daylights out of the creature, only to realize that it is not making its final appearance in the canister of your very expensive Dyson vacuum.  At this point you ask yourself, “What good is a Dyson vacuum with its super duper cyclone technology if it can suck up piles of marbles and yet can’t banish an arachnid?”  You heard it get sucked into the hose.  You continue to let the vacuum run, staring pensively into the canister, willing the creature to appear.  Nothing.  You empty the canister.  Nothing.  You take the trash outside, just in case.

You lose sleep for the next two weeks.

The end.

The Anatomy Of A Bookshelf: A Little Girl’s Dream Comes True

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I just squealed a little bit as I sat down to write this post because I cannot even begin to explain how utterly excited I am to have built in bookshelves in my home!  When I was a little girl we took family trips to Vermont several times a year.  In Arlington there was a dirt lane called River Road that meandered beside the Battenkill River.  My parents loved this road and I would complain endlessly about the 20 mph crawls down endless miles of the rocky pebbled lane every evening of our trip.  Today as an adult I remember that dirt road so vividly, the twists and turns, the picturesque houses that lined the countryside with typically “Vermont” red barns in fields beside them.  Norman Rockwell’s home and studio (a big red barn with large windows) was on this road. There was one farm house in particular that we used to drive past in the evening.  They never had the curtains drawn and I was always struck by the glow that came from the library.  Warmly stained wooden shelves that held volumes of books that looked lovingly worn from years of being reread.  The view from that window inspired the dream that someday I would have a library in my home.  
When I bought this house I was slightly disappointed by the fact that there was not a third bedroom to be turned into a library, but there were so many other great things about the place, that it seemed rather silly to not buy it because I couldn’t have a library.  There is a very bare wall in the back of the living room that was just begging for something fabulous to be built.  This is what my books have been doing since I moved in.  

Notice the 8 unpacked boxes sitting forlornly next to the shelves that once sufficed in my apartment.  The books in those boxes used to be piled on the floor under my windows, covered by floor length curtains that conveniently hid them.

I commissioned my ever talented boyfriend to build some shelves to fit the spot.  He really outdid himself.  I asked him to take pictures along the way.  The images speak for themselves, so I present you with the anatomy of a bookshelf.

 

Once the shelves were installed, crown and floor molding was attached to make them fit with the flow of the room.  One of the finishers at Rob’s shop primed them, but we ended up hand painting them after they were installed.  I was going to be ambitious and paint the back of each opening the same color as the wall, but that thought soon left my head when I realized what a job it was to paint these things. 

Every one of my books fit!  I started to sweat a bit when I was getting close to filling up the shelves, but I still have a little bit of room left.  About 25% of the books up there now haven’t been read yet, so it’s possible those will be headed for trade anyway.  The bottom three shelves are covered by cabinet doors and hold all my DVDs and smutty paperbacks I’m slightly ashamed of.

I found some fun hardware at Anthropologie (on sale for $2.95 each).  I am either going to pretend the pretty house on the knobs is my villa in Tuscany or my B&B in the English countryside.  A girl can dream, right?

Here is the finished result!  The wall paint has been touched up, doors and knobs attached, and my heart is about to burst.  I shall never move!  Not unless I can rip these out and take them with me!  Seeing all the books up there makes me want to take a year off, park myself by the beach, and read for months on end.  I am so thankful Rob was willing to do this for me and once again, I am so impressed by his talent and kindness through every neurotic moment I’ve had since moving into this place.  Happy sigh.  And many happy sighs to come.

Striped Bass at Montauk Point: The Blitz

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The past week I was on Long Island for a much needed getaway from all things work and house related.  Rob came with since he needed a break as well.  There was a lot going on.  The annual Maritime Festival in Greenport was fun, and a Coast Guard training vessel was there for a couple of days allowing people to board the giant seagoing ship.  Hot little seaguys (I can’t bring myself to call them seamen) helped old ladies and helpless able bodied girls up the gangplank.  The giant hulk of a ship was pretty impressive.

And to give you some perspective of how giant the ship truly was, here it is in the harbor, dwarfing everything around it.

But now to the meat of my story, THE BLITZ!!!  We headed down to Montauk Point for the day to climb the lighthouse and dine with yuppies wearing khaki pants and horizontally striped polos.  Little did I know it would be one of the most exciting days of the year for lovers of fishing.  A few days out of the year, striped bass come in droves to the Montauk shoreline and then disappear into the blue until the next year.  No one knows when it’ll happen, but we got lucky.  Unfortunately the only fishing poles we had in the back of the car were for snappers and would have broken in two with the first bite, but it was a blast to watch!

 

As we approached the bluff where you could see the ocean we noticed a disturbance that looked like boiling water.  It was basically a bunch of striped bass having the time of their lives, a bass rave, if you will.

We climbed the lighthouse up to the yellow step (do not go beyond the yellow step or the Coast Guard will yell at you) and looked out on the incredible view.  Lots of fisherman were having a heyday out there.

After beating my thighs into submission following the 137 step climb (each way), we stumbled down to the beach for the fishing orgy.  It was so exciting we had a hard time not cheering for every giant fish that got pulled out of the water.  I imagine this is how football fans feel when their team scores a touchdown with 3 seconds to go at the Super Bowl.  I wouldn’t know.  You can see below the huge school of fish between the boat and Mr. Wetsuit Hottie.

 Mr. Wetsuit bags himself a nice one (longer than 28 inches to be legal). 

 
 What shall we name him?  Lance?  Lance Bass???

It’s a bit hard to see, but every time a wave came through you could see the outlines of hundreds of fish screaming “WHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” with fins in the air as they rolled on by.

I took a couple of videos that are a bit hard to see, but they’ll give you an idea of how prolific the fish were.  All in all, it was quite an exciting event to witness and makes me miss living by the shore more than ever.  Happy Blitz!!!

 
 

Butterfly Shenanigans

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Summer is reluctantly fading into fall and I officially added the heavy duvet to my bed last evening, since the house is quite cold when I wake up.  This morning I could swear an arctic breeze had swept through the place at night, but the thermostat said 69.  I have no idea how I will survive the winter if I am freezing now!

The yard still has a lot of action happening as summer hands the baton to fall.  There have been some updates to the house and I will post those soon, but this post is dedicated to the nature outside my door and all its lovely splendor.  Big things really do come in small packages and I find that the tiniest bits of life around this place get my heart pounding. For example, I was headed into the shed one day and noticed this adorable little flower between the boards of the ramp.  I’ve looked in two flower books and cannot find the name of it, but I am enamored!  Some would call it red, but this little gem looks to be a lively Betsey Johnson pink to me.  If anyone knows what this is, please tell me!

Another surprise that has delighted me more than I can say is the fall seedum blooming on my front walk.  The plant has been covered in bumble bees, honey bees, hairstreaks, skippers, moths, and several other bugs I can’t name.  I sat transfixed one day just watching all of them work, the bees sinking face first into the tiny flowers and emerging covered in fluffy bits of yellow pollen.  I envy their ability to dive into flowers.

Several weeks ago I pruned my clematis back and she has revived herself for one last showy display before the cold sets in.  This shade of purple looks awful on clothing, but somehow seems deep and lustrous on a flower.

I feel a bit sheepish about this next bit.  It’s kind of porny actually.  There have been some serious butterfly shenanigans going on in my garden.  I was weeding a bunch of violets out one day and came upon this little guy.  I immediately brought him into the house and was freaking out because I love caterpillars and haven’t had any for so long, but I had to find out what it was.  Turns out, I’d found a buckeye.  These were quite rare on Long Island when I was growing up and I remember finding some in my dad’s garden as a girl.  To this day, it was one of the most exciting butterflies I’ve raised.  They’re quite common in the south.

As I left my little charge on a fresh violet leaf, I discovered some buckeyes having a naughty end of summer fling next to the fence.  If anyone ever asks you how a butterfly is made, I present you with exhibit A.

All of these tiny bugs and flowers are beautiful little worlds unto themselves that unless we stop to observe, we will sadly miss.  As fall approaches and the leaves begin to turn, I encourage you to turn off the TV and make the effort to get outside, take walks, look at the undersides of leaves, follow the flight of a butterfly, and disconnect from the world behind your desk or inside your living room.  These are the things that keep me sane, that remind me there is so much more to life than my own small universe.

Today I head to Long Island for a much needed vacation from house projects and work.  The beach is calling…