The State of Things, Including Me

The other day I spent approximately two and a half hours scrubbing the wooden stairs in our apartment. Scrub brush in hand, and a bucket of water beside me, I knelt scrubbing away and wondering about all of the other women who had scrubbed the same stairs over the five hundred year history of our building.

By the time I got to the bottom of the stairs (there are only sixteen of them and yet so much time had gone by) I knew that I'd been wrong, that there had been no other women. Nobody could have ever washed those stairs before. The wood is an entirely different colour than it was when I began, and there is still a grey film over them that I know I should get rid of with a second wash, though I can't bring myself to further abuse my poor, sore knees.

Before:



After:


















Our apartment renovations are coming along, though. The bedroom is nearly completely finished: the trim still needs to be painted and the floor in there needs to be scrubbed too. The office is the only reminder that we still have work ahead of us, but Christian and I have decided that having someone else do it for us is looking increasingly appealing. I cannot bring myself to rip that wallpaper off the walls and then have to deal with what is underneath it, again.

Anyway, we went to Ikea on Thursday for a few things we'd forgetten the first time and managed the entire expedition without a breakdown or an argument, which is probably a first. (I've told plenty of people that I genuinely believe Ikea should have relationship counselors wandering their stores.) Getting some stuff to decorate rather than renovate was fun for a change, and it's nice to know that our elusive Housewarming Party is not just a chimera.

I am procrastinating by writing this blog post. I should be either washing the mountain of dishes that are on my counter or else working on the oral presentation I have to give on Wednesday which I completely forgot about. However, we went out on Friday and Saturday this week and I am having a bit of trouble doing anything other than sitting. I just got back from having coffee with (my new friend) Adrieanna, but two coffees and Baileys later (her idea), my hands are still a bit shaky and everything I do is done v e r y s l o w l y. On the Katie Peacock hangover scale, I'd say, I would hold a baby, but I wouldn't... am too slow at the moment to think of something more breakable than a baby. My dad's four hundred year old liqueur glasses from Amsterdam? I wouldn't hold those.

OK this needs to end. I will probably write something about Brussels soon, or at least post photos. Here is my new favourite part of our apartment.





PS Learned an excellent party trick last night: we were in a building which is normally a Boyscout Club House, and the hosts had taped plastic over the walls, like the kind that you would use to protect the floor while painting. It wasn't very noticeable since the room was so smoky and dark, but prevented marks and spills from ruining the walls.

PPS I don't think my mom is very impressed by that party trick.

Mostly Cloudy, 6°

This week: my computer stopped working, my camera stopped working, my ipod stopped working, I met with 5 different handymen about our apartment, who quoted me between 1300 and 3000 Euro to make our bedroom liveable. I got up early on a rainy Saturday to go there to meet yet another handyman, who turned out to be only a painter, and couldn't help anyway. I was thinking about all of this as I unlocked my bike outside of our building.

And then I noticed this man standing there looking at our house. And holding a book. And that's when I realized that he was a tourist, holding a guidebook, and looking at the building that I get to live in as an attraction. I dawdled a little bit longer so that I could spy on him because I am nosy like that, and he walked in a semi-circle around the building and looked through the little alley way between it and the house beside it, and then looked in his book again and kept going.
That's when I realized that all of the stuff that has been bothering me lately will eventually be resolved, and that until then I should just stop moping and be happy.

PS: The Everything-Is-Alright-Alarm went off just as I finished this post.

PPS: Have I told you about the Everything-Is-Alright-Alarm? No? There is an alarm that they can set off if something is about to happen to the city; I have always assumed that this is a leftover of war times. Every Saturday at noon the alarm goes off for about 30 seconds just to make sure it still works, and also to let everybody know that Everything Is Alright.

Schmiedgasse 25

Ok, so, clearly there is much to be said about what has happened since finding our apartment and signing the lease and getting the keys and now being in the process of giving it some love. But. Before I do all that, this is what has been on my mind today: the house I live in (or, that I am going to live in) is four hundred and sixty years old!

It just sort of blows my mind. The doorway in the kitchen is only 162 cm high, so that even I have to duck to pass through it, and I can't help but imagining little men and women from 400 years ago passing through the same frame-- without hitting their heads.

I guess it probably has to do with my being Canadian: most of the over 400 year old buildings that I have seen have been churches or little stone things in Ireland and those always have that ancient air about them. I have just never imagined living somewhere that feels like it should have an entry fee. It doesn't seem to affect Christian so much, but then again, his house in Eugendorf has a well.

[I have sort of got the impression that,] my parents are worried that the apartment is a bit of a hole, which I guess is reasonable when you hear that "it has really low doorways, a wood burning stove, an oil-heater, exposed roof beams, uncovered wooden stairs, and a toilet smaller than my closet. Oh, and it is in the narrowest house in Graz". But, these are all things that contribute to its charm.

Instead of writing more about how I like it despite all its idiosyncracies, I'm just going to post some pictures to give you an idea. OK? OK.

The only thing we have in our fridge at the moment is...


Christian built the first fire in our wood burning stove.



I measured: this doorway maxes out at 162 cm (5"3).



This is the living room which faces the street and is at the front of the house. I think it looks much narrower from outside than it feels on the inside.



This is in the stairwell at the first floor. It still works and I think that it's lovely.


Apologies for the night-time photos, but it gets dark at 4:30 here and I haven't gotten there before twilight yet.

While I am waiting for the photos to upload, I am doing research about how to build a fire that will last all night. The upside-down fire is looking most promising at the moment, but if you have suggestions, I would appreciate them.