There was a point a couple of years ago, where I got tired of looking up a recipe in one of my vast collections of cookery books and magazines for something we enjoyed and therefore prepared frequently. I made one large book of the most regularly-used and favorite dishes; printed out pages and xerox copies of various pages in plastic protector sheets, all tidied up in a three ring binder. Some of the recipes were culled from various cooking websites and printed directly from their pages, some were ones that I copied, pasted, adjusted the print size, deleting unnecessary text, and saved them to a file on my own computer.

It all made a pretty thick binder, all told – and at some point, the pages wicked up a large quantity of water from off of the countertop. Because most of the pages were inside plastic protector sheets, they stayed damp and began to get moldy, disgustingly smelly, as well as blurring the lettering on many pages. Anyway, this week I started revamping the binder. Because as it is, the single binder had become so large and unwieldy, I plan breaking it into a pair of slightly more wieldy binders. The chicken, beef and soup recipes are all packed into in one, and the fish, vegetarian, salad and miscellaneous side dishes in the second. The desserts, preserves and sauces are already in a third binder of their own.

This necessitates calling up and reprinting those pages, finding the websites or the issues of various magazines and scanning them afresh: a bit of a chore, but it also gives me an opportunity to consider deleting some recipes entirely; something that we made once, and really didn’t like enough to fix again.  And that’s my housekeeping chore for the week … anything to put off working up the income tax return for 2024…

So, my daughter and I are diverting ourselves on a winter evening by watching yet another reality TV series. This one is a real-estate flip-cum-interior decoration series; it can be construed as a kind of professional education for my daughter, the ambitious real estate agent, and amusement for myself. The series is focused on houses in various bedroom communities in the Seattle area, so the prices are somewhat elevated, in comparison to urban South Texas. There are other differences as well, but the houses themselves are an agreeable mix of older cottages and ten- to fifteen-year-old new-builds. They have also been on the market without selling for weeks and months – to the despair of sellers. The hosts of Unsellable Houses are twin sisters and successful real estate agents in their own right, so the focus of each episode is diagnosing what is wrong with the house which is sending potential purchasers away determined to look at something else and remedying those failings. (Conventional wisdom is that there are only two reasons for a house on the market   not selling: either the condition of the house or the asking price.) In the case of these featured unsellable houses, it’s condition. The solution which the twin sister agents offer is an investment deal to the house owners. They will invest a certain amount in renovations, put the house on the market again for a fairly realistic bid – and they appear to be experienced enough in the local market to accomplish this. When it sells, they get back their investment and split the profit evenly. More profit, if the house sells above asking price, which has happened quite frequently. I would guess that the sisters pick the properties to offer this deal very carefully; the location must be attractive, the house itself structurally sound, and the necessary fixes cosmetic. No tear-downs or junk houses in a bad part of town need apply.

From watching the first season of this series (from 2020) and noting the various renovations performed for the various houses I can make a handful of deductions about current market trends and what buyers were and continue to favor:

A kitchen and dining area combination – an almost guaranteed part of renovation is demolishing any wall between the two, often in favor of an island with bar seating instead.

New kitchen cabinets go all the way to the ceiling.

White subway tile for a kitchen backsplash seems to be a constant design element these days. I can favor that, as it’s an element that doesn’t date. Sometimes jazzy floor tile in kitchens.

If not already-existing hardwood floors (and some of the homes are old enough to have them)  – then high-grade vinyl flooring is installed in areas elsewhere than bathrooms and sometimes kitchens. I rather like the best-grade vinyl flooring, myself.

Tile in bathrooms, sometimes rather nicely pattered. Carpet in bathroom areas is an abomination and was the first thing to be ripped out in my own house. For some reason in the 1980s, builders did this, for which they ought to be sentenced to an eternal afterlife of cleaning commodes. With their tongues.

The same for popcorn ceiling texture: an abomination, which I consider to be the Devil’s solidified sperm.

The on-trend for master bathroom vanities is to put in double sinks, where one had been sufficient before, if the bathroom is large enough.

The one aspect of putting the renovated houses on the  market which the sisters employ for good effect is staging – that is, filling them up with furniture, rugs, and decorative elements, even down to elaborate place settings on the dining tables. I had always preferred that a place that I looked at with the intention of renting or purchase be empty, as I could better visualize it with my own possessions in it. I had read that this was what most house-hunters also preferred, or that staging be minimal, more of a hint at possibilities rather than the full-on set dressing. But perhaps this kind of staging is now the preferred strategy and expected fashion, especially for top-dollar properties.

 

27. December 2024 · Comments Off on Resolutions · Categories: Domestic

Ah, yes – that time of year, again: time to assess what has been done, and what has been left undone, and to consider plans for the coming year.

Ah, the items left undone – wrapping up the Luna City series, with book 12. Alas, it’s about half completed, and the creative dry spell late this year appears to have lifted. It will be an e-book only, but available in print as part of Luna City Compendium #4.

I may yet continue with Luna City stories as a YA series, with the adventures of Stephen, Douglas, Letty and their friends as children in the 1920s and 1930s. I am very fond of Luna City as a setting – the most perfect small town in South Texas. I am increasingly convinced that YA  teen and tween readers need  books which are not studies in grey goo dysfunction and misery. I did manage to complete and launch the pioneer trail YA adventure, West Towards the Sunet, start to finish, including review by beta readers in slightly less than a year. I also have been struck by enough ideas about how to go about continuing it as a series, so there may be a second volume of the Kettering family saga in time for next Christmas.

As for the household – I did manage to purchase the pet door insert for the slider door into the back porch, but the two male cats are still prone to pee on stuff – so I might as well not have bothered. As for chickens again – when Wee Jamie is a little older. Maybe this spring, we’ll try again with them. The back fence has been replaced totally, so  any chickens kept there  ought to be safe enough during the day, as long as they are locked up after dark.

As of the end of April, 2025, the mortgage on my personal little patch of Paradise will be paid off, and I will have gotten through another year of paying for that replaced siding and exterior paint, new windows and the HVAC system, all installed late in 2020 or early 2021. As noted previously, the siding and the specialty hot-climate paint with which it was covered have worn beautifully well – it still looks as if it had just been done. I am bound and determined to replace the refrigerator freezer the very instant the mortgage is paid in full, though. The one we have now has been a massive disappointment to us both – all the various plastic bins and drawers have been cracking and breaking off bits, beginning when it was barely a couple of years old. It wasn’t a cheap model, but it wasn’t rock-bottom cheap, either. The ice maker and dispenser stopped working entirely and repairing it all isn’t worth the trouble and the parts.

Not having a monthly mortgage payment will free up a not inconsiderable sum of money; I plan to frivolously spend it paying down the existing accounts for siding, windows and HVAC, thereby bringing the day when I am free to begin on paying for a completely fresh round of necessary fixes for the house – like new flooring throughout and a renovated kitchen. This may be made easier when my daughter, the real estate agent still working towards a point were a couple of thousand here and a couple of thousand there is just small change rattling around in the bottom of her expensive handbag, will have her own house. I will finally have that empty nest, with all of her stuff moved out of the garage.

And that’s what I’m looking forward to in the next year! In any case, the writing and story-telling will continue.

Well – at least a little bit. For an assortment of reasons – perhaps because I’m a bit tired, and my daughter (the working real estate agent) is up to her butt in angry reptiles as far as clients looking for a suitable roof to celebrate their own Yule under – we were a bit late in getting around to decking our personal halls for the holiday season. Mainly because the garage is packed tightly with stuff of which at least three-quarters is intended for her eventual household. It’s a major project to find all the Christmas ornaments…(we can’t even find the tub that the mantlepiece Wedgewood got put away into last Christmas in order to make space for the long lighted Christmas garland!) And I am trying to finalize one book for print and halfway through writing the first draft of another, in between baking bar cookies to inflict on our near neighbors. Wee Jamie is three and a half years old and sort of hyperactive, and I am looking after him most days … and anyway, we’re a bit farther behind than usual in our Christmas prep. I exhausted most of my December stock of energy in going down to Goliad for Miss Ruby’s Author Corral, the first weekend of the month.

At least we have the tree assembled and sort of decorated. My daughter bought the Christmas Vacation advent calendar when it came available at Costco this year, and I’ve been making the various figurines into ornaments, by way of sinking a tiny screw-eye into each and attaching a wire ornament hanger. She loves watching Christmas Vacation, and plans to go all-out with the decorations when she has her own place. There were some Monsters, Inc. figurines from the Dollar Tree, similarly converted. Our Christmas tree is one of those with the lights already built-in, so adding those few little items do make it at least amusing. My daughter thinks that she will set up a small Christmas tree in Wee Jamie’s bedroom, and ornament it with the Monsters, Inc. figurines, and assorted small dinosaurs. (Note to self – check and see if there is a Monsters, Inc. Advent calendar available these days. There is A Christmas Story calendar – perhaps next year. I’m more of A Christmas Story fan, myself, if only because Ralphie’s house reminds me so very much of my grandmothers’ place.)

And we did do a round of Christmas movies, every night – adding a couple of new selections to the rota – Klaus, and a new animated version of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Klaus was very original and rather sweet, and the new Grinch wasn’t half bad at all. The first was quite creatively original in working up a Santa origin story, and the second filled out the  epic of the Grinch rather sweetly in expanding on the characters, especially the dog. We bailed on a perfectly revolting, sickly-sweet cartoon about the Elf onna Shelf about five minutes into it though – and couldn’t find a free streaming version of Arthur Christmas. Tonight, we’ll watch The Santa Clause.

For a good few years, we went all-out in making an assortment of fudge for distribution to neighbors and places that we did regular business with; but the cost of everything just got too much this year to make as much as we used to make. We do have some small quantities of quality chocolate and various ingredients either left over from last year, or bought on sale at  extremely reduced prices, so I’ll make what I can with what we have, and otherwise fill out the gift boxes with slabs of coconut-lemon-nut bar cookies. I lifted the recipe from the 1970s edition of Joy of Cooking.

Pecan Angel Slices (Walnuts or almonds work well, also.)

Cream together until well-blended:  ½ cup butter and ¼ cup sugar

Beat in well: 1 egg and ½ teasp vanilla

Combine and add to the above: 1 ¼ cup sifted flour and 1/8 teasp salt

Pat dough evenly into a greased 9×12 inch pan and bake at 350° for fifteen minutes. Remove from oven.

Combine: 2 beaten eggs, 1 ½ cup brown sugar, ½ cup flaked cocoanut, 1 cup chopped pecans, 2 Tbsp.  flour, ½ teasp double acting baking powder, ½ teasp salt and 1 teasp vanilla.

Pour over cookie layer and return to oven for 25 minutes

Combine 1 ½ cup sifted confectioner’s sugar with sufficient lemon juice to make a smooth, runny glaze. Pour over warm cookie/pecan/coconut layer and allow to set. When cool, cut into bars or squares.

And that’s our Christmas plan for this year. Other than getting the print version of West Towards the Sunset available by next week – that’s about it for the season.

 

In the time before the internet became a thing, when I was mostly stationed at bases overseas, I could rejoice when the base post office put up the mail … we had numbered post boxes, the kind that one sees in the post offices now, with the little locking doors with a small glass window. My post office box was nearly always packed tightly with mail. On really, really good days, there was a pink cardboard slip which meant a package – take the slip to the window and collect your package. Depressing it might be to see a package slip, and the parcel window had already closed on a Saturday afternoon  which meant  waiting until  Monday to get the package. (In Greenland, though, whenever an airplane came in with mail, the post office clerks would call the radio station, and the duty announcer would read out that so many pounds of mail had been received, and the post box numbers who had gotten packages on the air. The post office window would be open for exactly half an hour then, no matter what the day, or hours – and on hearing your box number read out, everyone would beat feet for the post office. This was Greenland – everyone knew to the minute when an aircraft came in, and if it were coming from Stateside, there would be mail on it.)

I subscribed then to a number of magazines – magazines of news and cultural interest, mostly, with some hobby publications among them … and catalogues. Oh, I got catalogs – so many that the post office clerks swore that sometimes they had to wedge my mail into my post box with the aid of a crowbar. There were just so many things that weren’t available to  us through the exchange, or on the local economy. Clothing, books, household goods, hobby materials and supplies, small furniture kits, movies … even certain food items – anything the least bit non-standard had to come by catalog mail order. (In the case of Greenland, there was no local economy, only the souvenir booth on the Danish side of the runway, and the little trading post store, which was about  the size of a corner minimart.)

Of course I was the recipient of catalogs galore, for all the things that couldn’t be obtained locally and for which I had a taste or an interest. One of my very favorite clothing catalogs was the original Banana Republic line, when it was truly a vendor of quirky yet practical travel clothing and accessories. A fair number of their early items were military surplus of all sorts of other militaries, much of which came in color palettes which explored the vibrant spectrum of olive-drab green, tan, brown, gray and dull blue, but which had the benefit of being durable, practical and well-made. The original Banana Republic’s clothing tended to be pricy – rather like LL Bean items of the same era – but ever so worth it in the long run; comfortable, practical fabrics, flattering cuts, and modest – suitable for wear on countries where excessive displays of flesh were not advised – and infinitely variable. The ideal for their kind of traveler, I gathered from their content, was the one who could do a world tour with a single small piece of luggage, and still be comfortably, practically, and tastefully turned out for every possible occasion, from morning trek to see a ruined temple in the jungle to a tea party at an embassy that afternoon. I liked that kind of practicality – liked it very much, although I could only afford a couple of pieces from them. A mid-length khaki drill skirt was one of them, and another was a pair of flat-heeled ballet pumps that I wore all over Europe; the soles were ribbed rubber. Perfect for hiking through places and streets floored with slick stone and cobbles, which – wet or dry – were a hazard. The Banana Republic catalogues were literate, even just fun to read. They stood out among my collection of catalogs for that very reason. I understand that the handful of Banana Republic brick-and-mortar locations were just as spectacular, in décor and design. Alas, I never got to visit one in person. Eventually, the couple who had built the brand sold it to the company which already owned a big nationwide chain and a couple of other brands, and Banana Republic stopped being the quirky, original source for high-quality travel clothing and exotic military surplus. It became just another generic brand of mall-marketed clothes, just like all the other generic, cheaply-manufactured generic mall clothing brands.

I wish that I had kept some of the catalogs, though. Just for sentimental value. Maybe I have – and they are buried out in a box in the garage.