What...no key!

It's been a little more than two years that we were unable to live in the main manor.  There was still insufficient hydro, plumbing, and many other simple conveniences that so many of us take for granted.  We did have the Carriage House though that was attached located next door.  The home was originally built in a unique fashion of having the main manor, ajacent carriage house, or buggie barn as it was once called, and the barn attached at the end.

I just try to imagine what the noices...and smells, must have been like in the 1850's.  This was the first area in "upper town of Paris" designated for "residential" and this family had so many of the luxuries such as a horse drawn carriage.  Today our barn holds different transportation.  Hubby has his brand new Cadi Truck stored for the winter.  Asa would have been amazed by this set of wheels, especially being in the lumber business.  This man had built his barn in such a design as to have the stable under the barn and the hay drop above.  The carriage house was designated for several carriages that we can imagine as there were two doors that opened.  Each door a different size and can conclude that perhaps he designed these entrances to suit the styles of carriages or surrie that he owned at the time.  The smells and the noices from the barn would have been overwhelming on a warm summer's night, however in the dead of winter, there would likely be little, if any odour at all.  However, if you stand in the barn on a still August night, you might hear the sound of horse whinnying.  The smell of hay is still there as I discovered when I was wallpapering so many years ago.

Now as I started to tell, we had the availability of our Carriage House to live in.  It is converted now to a Bed and Breakfast suite that has its own bathroom, kitchen, two queen beds and the comfort of "home away from home".  At the onset of restoring the manor, we would work all evening and retire next door where we could shower, watch TV and sleep the night...if we didnt have guests booked for those evenings.  I remember one night that the three of us (hubby, son and I) laboured over the removal of the many layers of wall papers and paint.  It was a saturday in December and we spent all day and night scrubbing and scrapping.  When we had had enough, we would pack up our things and run from the main entrance, across the snow covered driveway and enter the Carriage House for the night.

We had nestled down in front of the TV, enjoyed a great movie and fell asleep. 

I am a morning person and that means that at the first break of morning, I am up....yes, even at 5:30.  I though I could sneak next door and jump on the computer that was still set up in one of the upstairs rooms or perhaps at that time even in the hallway.  Nevertheless, it was a great time to just sit and surf or play games or have quiet time to myself.  It wasnt long when I discovered that I didnt have my coat.  I had left it next door...and in the pocket was my key.  Not a problem, hubby would have his key...and with that I started to search in the dark for his jeans.  Nothing.  No coat either.  How could this be.  Were we both so tiered that we couldnt move next door fast enough?  So here I was, trapped in darkness and no place to go, nothing to do. I couldnt turn on the TV as that would wake everyone up, couldnt turn a light, as kitties would wake up and start jumping over hubby...and that was definitely not something I wanted to do.  So I sat, and sat, and sat...eventually surcoming to crawl back into bed where I lie with eyes wide open.  I watched the clock tick away until finally the room was lite with morning sun and finally the 8:30 churchbells rang out.  Surely that would wake hubby.  It wasnt until 9 O'clock...the day almost over, or at least for me before movement in the other side of the bed.  Finally, hubby would be able to tell me where his key was.

With eyes slowly opening, I sprung into idle chatter, explaining in a thousand words or less my plight and asking for his key...finally!  "It's on the other side".   "But I have no key either".  Brilliant man suggests checking son's pockets.  Why didnt I think of that.  But there was no key there either.  All three of us has dashed quickly from our project forgetting to grab our coats, or at least grab a set of keys.  We had nothing!   We couldnt open the doors as they are sealed up with dead bolts that would lock up Fort Knox.  With all the doors in our house, how could we have everything so secured?  And we wouldn't consider breaking the windows.  Most of the glass is original to our home and we wanted to preserve that too.

Hubby had a light bulb moment to find a crowbar.   He had a strange curiosity to see what was in the wall between the two sections of our home.  The other side of the wall was our bedroom...and so with one swing of the bar, the first hole was punched.  The second swing, third and so on until we had a hole big enough to walk through.  This wasnt the time for a new project, but, what the heck...now we could have the convenieince to walk from one end to the other without having to 'weather the storm'.  

B&B business came to a halt for at least three weeks while the door was installed.  Hubby was quick to repair the walls.   And once upon a time we had a door with no key...now we have a new door and new key!

******

Paris...15 minutes of Fame

How exciting it was to know the that the request to stay in our Carriage House was actually the Olympic Torch Runner.  I had to refrain from running up a huge phone bill as Lincoln was politely asking questions as to the accommodation that he required for the evening of December 21.  "Are you close to Yeo Street?" he asked.  Why yes I said.  Actually I continued to say that if he where energetic, he could ware his hip waders, walk across the river, scale the retaining wall and be at Yeo in a matter of 3 minutes.

My family certainly understands how silly I can be, but this stranger must think me to be a bit odd.  This was one guest I was hoping to give a bit more attention to.  After all, he was the chosen one to have the honour to run with the Olympic Torch through our Town of Paris.

Up until this point in time, I was so nieve about the routine, protocol and ceremonial functions of the runner.  I did not realize that it was only a 300 metre distance for each runner.  I also didnt realize that there would be several runners in each town.  Paris had seven runners and Lincoln was one.

Lincoln did not live in Paris which I thought to be a bit odd, however he was chosen from a contest that his company had.  He is employed with Bell Canada.    Im not even sure if there were any other Torch Runners that were from Paris.

I headed out at 7:00 to make sure that I didnt miss the excitement in our community.  It was a 15 minute walk to the destination where I would watch my Carriage House guest "pass the flame".  As I briskly walked down the road and across the Nith River Bridge, I could see hundreds of people crowding together on the sidewalks of our downtown district.  The town cryer was there as well as a yoga instructor trying to gather together people to have morning exercising to keep warm while waiting for the runners to pass by with the ever flaming torch.

I stopped to take my first picture.  It was the town cryer, "Oyee, Oyee, Oyee....etc".  I took a picture of the Yoga Lady too.  Thats when the camera died...DIED!  and I wasnt even at my destination yet.  As I passed familiar faces, I asked if they could share pictures and have them emailed to me.  I continued my journey across the Grand River Bridge.

I am sure of one thing, and that is that even without pictures,  I was one of the few proud Parisians that stood in the cold at 7:30 am at Yeo Street to cheer one of our Canadian runners.  There was a small parade of special buses, one that carried all the Runners, one that represented Coca Cola and the third one that represented The Royal Bank of Canada.  Flags were passed out along the route.  Unfortunately, I didn't get one.  Didnt matter.

I was standing with the runner's wife and children and Mrs. Runner was kind enough to send me these pictures so I could share them with my friends and family.  I's also excited to say that I held the torch before and after it was lit.  It's a surreal feeling now.  Hard to imagine that this flame exchange had been happening for months from around the world.  How many people would ever have the chance to say that they too held the infamous torch?

As the flame was exchanged at that moment on Yeo street and no pictures to record the activity, at least not for me, at least Mrs. Runner captured the moment and we all cheered.  The torch ran off to the next destination....and I walked home.

I was glad to reach home as it was very, very cold.  I also discovered on my route home, that everyone I talked to about exchanging pictures, actually had their cameras die too.  It was just too cold for most batteries that morning.

As I entered the front hall, Canada AM was on the TV and to my surprise Mr. Weather Man was announcing the location of the Torch Run.  "it is now passing through Welland".  WHAT!  "no, no, sorry, it's , it's, its's. Brantford".  And with that news, I immediately called the TV station....the phone line was jammed!

Paris might not have had our fifteen minutes of fame that day on TV, but I was there and wouldnt have missed it for anything.  Oh Canada!

******

Fender Benders...Christmas Isnt Complete Without One

'Tis the season when the snow flys and we have lost our ability to immediatly alter our driving habits to accommodate for slippery road conditions.  We forget that perhaps we are not the best drivers and find ourselves slipping at least once in the onset of cold winter weather.   This is usually an unspoken event!

My son has recently experience such an occurance and survives his very first 'fender bender'.  But Mother does it best!

It was Christmas Eve, two years ago and I still had the Bridal Store.  My assistant and I decided to close early that day and I actually had a luncheon at hubby's office to go to.  It was a perfect wintery day with lots and lots of snow falling.  Assistant and I locked up the store, said our holiday greetings to each other, got in our cars and proceeded to leave.  I engaged the 'three week old company truck' into reverse and slowly released the break peddal.  Rolling slowly to the edge of the west exit and stopping, and then shifting into drive.  Assistant is now out of her car flagging her arms at me.  I stop, get out and...o h  m y  G O S H!  I turned around and a hysterical old woman is screaming at me, "Look what you did".  How could I have done that.  It was no brainer that, yes, I was the guilty one, no doubt about that. 

A Tayota Carolla was smushed from front quarter panel to back with the side mirror in at least ten tiny pieces on the side of the road.  As I approached to inspect my truck too, I noticed an insy, binsy black mark on the tail gate. That was it?  That was it!  I made my apologies and excused myself to call in the accident.

Assistant decided to stay with me.  I think mostly because she was interested to see the outcome.  We did the appropriate activies, went into the store, called the police, called Hubby, and called the insurance company.  This took about ten minutes.  As the two of us where now leaving the building and locking up,  Assistant says, "Of all the people to hit, you had to pick a looney tone". 

The victim was now at the curb with the officier and he was combative at this point.  "Not a consiencious driver, I see".   This put me immediately into denfense mode and shot back my comment, "Im guilty, lets just settle this fast.  I did not see her in either side mirrors or rear view mirror".  You see, the 'work truck' was just that much higher on the road than the carolla.  He wanted to 'nail me to the cross'...and again I said I was guilty and Im sorry...and I was not being reckless! 

The two of them disappeared into the cruiser and assistant and I sat in her car, waiting.  It was at least fourty minutes, when finally it was my turn.  I was dressed for a blizzard with my mukluks; at least twice the size of normal boots...and into the cruiser I squeeze, barely getting my two feet in the back seat when the door slambed on my heels.  My knees were in my chin.  Not much room to even breath!

There was a tiny window in the glass partition.  I was now a criminal ready to be slapped with a huge sentence even at the onset of investigation.  In less than five minutes, the cop explained the 'crazy lady' story.  She was running the green light to make a turn ...just as I was rolling down the driveway.  You see, the driveway to our little commerical building with a west and north exit because we are on a corner street with  street lights.  The drive way is eligally too high for this type of parking lot.  The cop simply said, this was a no-fault accident.  He could see that the truck was much higher than the car and he believed my story. 

The cop was now ready to release me, opened the rear door and like a slinky in a tight can, my feet shot out and hit the road.  I said my goodbyes again to assistant who was patiently waiting to hear the story end, and off we went.  I was  little late for the luncheon and hubby could only comment that his work crew would probably do more damage to the car than I just did. 

In conclusion, I must give you the update of the work truck.  It was months later that this vehicle went in for "detailing".  This is a term used for putting company logos and decals on the truck.  As luck would have it, the available Vehicle Number was #13!

George, the Ghost of Christmas Past

For many years, rumour circulated throughout the neighbourhood about the haunted house "just down the road". When the news first broke that 'some Paris person' was crazy to purchase the Wolverton House, I was bombarded with many questions regarding the searching of the ghosts that would have lived in our newly purchased home.

Im not much of a believer of such nonsense, however I have had a situation in a two hundred year old farm house in Colbourg that could have turned me into a ghost buster...or perhaps rather busting my a@# to run away from a ghost. I was on assignment to help with the restoration and my job was to remove the wall paper and save the plaster. While I was scrubbing and scrapping, the door leading into the "common" room at the top of the staircase was opening and closing. It was a hot summer's day and the windows were open, but a hurricane would have had to pass by at the moment that the door moved. That was almost thirty years ago and I have been in and out of lot of homes with out seeing, feeling or hearing anything like it. Or perhaps I was just in one of those moments in time when a TV was on in the back ground and imagined it all. Nevertheless, moving into our new home left me wide open to search for anything paranormal.

Walking in for the first time, one gets a calm feeling, yes even in the mess of cobwebs, debrie, cat hair, drywall dust, sawdust, etc. I have had several mediums walk through from time to time. Although they come for different reasons, each one eventually asks the question of seeing orbs, sounds, missing items and the likes. If you asked me today if I had a ghost residing here, I would inphatically say "yes". I was cleaning up the main floor bath room and noticed the second set of scratching on our red wallpaper. Something is chewing right through the wall paper at about 7' and 8' up the wall, about the size of a quarter. Chuckling to myself all the while thinking, "ya right, a ghost doesnt like the red wall paper and is sending messages". On the other side, I think it is probably a mouse. I have seen them climb the walls on different occasions. We rarely have them in the house and when we do it is because of contractors coming through leaving doors open to bring in equipment. But recently Bello caught one in the parlor. Hubby and son watched this silly feline toss it up in the air, swat and chase it for about five minutes before realizing it was REAL. Hubby snatched it from kittie and tossed it out the door! Kittie was not amuzed and story has it that he grumbled and hissed at both of them.

Now I have to continue to say that I have been researching the people that built the home, who lived with them, different owners, etc. I have discovered that George the coachman was a black slave that came to work for Asa and his wife. They also had Sadie who was given to this couple from Asa's brother who felt that the aging house maid should stay within the family. Enos lost his wife and moved from his home with his seven children. Sadie could not go with them. Folk lore also has it said that there were many black slaves who came to this part of Ontario to escape slavery and the Wolverton's took them in and also hide them from the bounty hunters.

I met the great great grand neice of Asa and Juliet and with the family letters that she possesses, pieced together more history of some of the people that lived here. I also received a call from the previous owner who is now in her mid to late seventies. She is very articulate as she is a writter for the Globe and Mail, so she tells me. I thought it odd that she would call me a year later, but figured she just wanted to share stories. She went on to mention how her daughter would frequently see "George" standing beside the bake oven and fireplace. I figured because she was Irish, she grew up with tales of ghosts and had a vivid imagination..and they believe in that kind of stuff. This woman went on to say she didnt believe in ghosts, however she saw a reflection in the parlor mirrow of a lady in a taffetta gown, dark grey and wearing a black hat with black tuelling covering her face. It sounded like the description of someone from the 1880's and of course that would be Elija Jackson Baker, the second mistress of this home. If there were to be a ghost in this house, it would be Elija as she did probably die here. The Baker family owned this home for eighty years.

With this information, I was more interested than ever to find out more about the ghosts. I didnt believe and talking to Hubby about this was not an option. He would have had me locked away for thinking such stupidness. I research the paranormal clubs in our community through the internet and actually began to email. I had an interesting response and I started to invite the group over for a "ghost hunt". Does that make me crazy now? It was explained by the 'president' of the society that they are usually out to disprove a sighting, rather than fine a ghost. That was fine by me. And so a group of six can in one night. We turned of the hydro in the house and stood in the darkened house for three hours. The infrared cameral was rolling in three corners, the six voice recorders were placed in different rooms. It was exactly what you would see if you were watching the TV Ghost program. They left and the report came a week later. Nothing! No static, not a light flash, not even light reflecting into dust particles (and there were lots).

I have talked to people since that time that say they have spotted George. I mentioned this to my son one night and the two of us were afraid to go into the kitchen for fear of "running into George". How silly! It's a bit of a giggle now. From time to time I might be caught having a conversation with George, all in the fun of thinking he might actually exist. But I believe that there is no ghost.

But if you ever have the chance to come to visit us and the front door opens on it's own,or you hear a funny strange noise dont be alarmed if you hear hubby say, "Come on in George", or "George is home".

******

I Married the Original "Tool Man"

Starting to break out cement floor to pour the new one.  The start of my retirement home...I think not!  Where are the windows?

This is getting more interesting.  The infloor heating system is now at the point of looking rather "graphic".  I am amazed at this construction.  All the cement was carried in via wheel barrow along wooden planks

The cement floor is in.  This is the view of the entire "shoe box" apartment.  ...and where does the furniture go!

We must all remember the sit com "Home Improvements" with Tim the Tool Man. I remember sitting every week at 8:00 to faithfully watch and laughing at all the antics, all the while thinking that the writters must have been tapped into the reality of our own life here in Paris. This program was so well written that we could all relate to one, two or all of the characters; or where the characters created from our family.

Every since the day that golden ring was placed (or shoved) onto my finger, hubby has always had an obsession to have the biggest and best garage to store his tools, toys and treasures. The first house we lived in was one I already owned and loved so dearly. It has a lovely garage that never had the car. It was the "Italian Garage", you know, the one where the bikes, furniture, freezer garbage cans were stored. We would spend rainy summer afternoons lounging on our patio furniture. Hubby was not amuzed with this space he secretly thought of as a small closet. No room for anything, especially the big old orange truck. He would have a special name for it like, "49 Ford Pickup...a real classic". So we sold the house!

Our new neighbourhood was just down the road. The house had a conservative two car garage...workable I guess. The backyard backed onto conservation...lovely view and we were at the end of a dead end cauldersac. We soon discovered that we were the token white folk. We also discovered that we had "Mrs. Kravets" next door. Hubby immediately took to converting the garage into a shrine for his prized possessions. For the first day or so the truck sat on the driveway and trouble with the neighbours started. Day after day the bilaw officier knocked on our door, "One of your neighbours is concerned about the commercial vehicals parked on residential property"...and ten days later, the 'For Sale' sign was hammered into the ground. Eight months passed, full blown pregnant, hubby 1500 km away on a soon to end work contract, and sold house, we packed up and moved to an apartment in Paris. Yes! it did come with a three bay garage! It was a bit rocky at first but six months later, we purchased a lovely little postage stamp sized cottage on a beautifully oversized lot with an easement roadway to the back of the property on the ajoining road where hubby invisioned a 10,000 sq ft garage!

In our usual fashion, construction started the day we moved in. I cant remember a day almost 20 years later, that we havent picked up the crowbar first instead of morning coffee. ...and the Garage was our first priority. We had the most beautiful two story 1200 sq ft "RV Barn"...the envy of every Car Buff in the neighbourhood. It wasnt big enough. Had to expand. Had to purchase "the investment property" just down the road...."The boy's Club" as I call it. Hubby would tell me almost every day that one day we would reside in his garage. Over my dead body, I would say; to which he replied, "hmmm, that can be arranged". He didnt mean it but all the while he would try harder to convince me this would be the perfect life for us.

It was four years later that he broke the news that he was going to build the ultimate apartment at the back of his 'garage'. It would be so beautiful with the best features, fixtures, and furnishings. I would love it so much I would beg to move in. I rejected the idea, ranted, complained, and never would set foot on his property. I didnt even know where it was located for the first three years; just knew that it was "down the road" and hubby and son would leave every night after dinner to putter in their work shop. I was asked to help with the project and set up a floor plan. I started but didnt want any involvement....and abandoned any thought of living in "that place". As time went on, I softened and peeked at the blueprints. Not bad, but only two windows in the entire apartment. How could this fool of a man even think that I would want to live in THAT shoe box! I started wondering over out of curiosity to check on the progress. By now we were no longer living in harmony, marital bliss or what ever else it is called. And we could fight better than Liz Taylor and Richard Burton. But once the walls were up and the accessories needed to be picked, I just couldnt help jump in. Hubby was now convinced that we could finally put up the houses for sale. Wife was going to move into the garage. What could be better than that. ...and the purchase offers started to come in on our home.

I remember like it was yesterday standing in the grand room of the apartment and slowly went to tears, "where will my 9' table go, where will the piano go...and what about antique desks, all three of them! ....and the next month I purchased the Wolverton House, Money Pit, or as I fondly call it, "The Poor House" :)

After all is said and done, we have spend many months living in the apartment, which we now dub "Riverlane Suite". It was a great stay when we had no plumbing, electricity, laundry facilities and many more inconveniences while demolishing the Wolverton House. It is now a furnished luxury apartment that many people from around the world have enjoyed living in, from one night to five months. Hubby is still hoping that one day I will retire from "the big house" and move into the 'Riverlane'. And we will live happily ever after.

A picture tells 1,000 words.



www.venturehomes.ca/VirtualTour.asp?TourID=9558

When the Fur Flys

Today I will dedicate this story to our furry members of this family.  Every family that I know of has had some kind of pet, either fish, bird, lizard, cat, dog and even my neighbour years back had an alligator.  I have always had a cat in our home.  House number one had Mimi , who was katnapped :(  and I immediately adopted Nunu and Tiki.  What a handful these two were.  I remember my most memorable stories on these two.  Returning home from an outting, coming into the house, I could hear an unusual rumbling noice in the bedroom hallway.  I though it was a burgler and was very cautious investigating.  As I ventured through the kitchen, I noticed my pork chops that were in the sink thawing, were gone.  With a quick swing to the right and through the door, I could see those two theives, with one corner of package in Tiki's mouth and the other corner in Nunu's mouth  running the chops out of sight.  These two were the most amazing duo and always in trouble.  They never slept and sure they spent most time scheming and planning their next attack.

I started dating a man that who as an antique dealer.  I had known him for almost 12 years and ...he had the right words and moves to make me feel special.  But he hated cats and kids.  Nunu and Tiki had to go.  What a mistake that was.  It's not to say that my cats will always be number one in my life, however it was a lesson learned that unconditional love from a pet is a precious gift that can not be taken away easily.  This man was physically abusive and on Halloween night and not amused by the little trick 'r treaters, he threw a cement patio block on the top of my car in a fit of rage.  If I could have picked up that stone, I would have thrown it back on him!  AND That was the end of him....and I gave my cats up for THAT?

Next came Katu.  She was special and my favorite.  Dont know why.  This was my "baby in the basket at the door" gift.  A lady just left her for me because she knew that I was missing Nunu and Tiki...and the stupid circumstances surrounding their leaving our family.  How kind she was.  Katu died of a blood disorder only half way through her life.  She was only ten when we had her life snuffed out.  I burried her ashes in the garden beside the house Rick built.  May she rest in peace forever.

We were in the middle of a move and that's when Ms Toi arrived.  What a funny little kitten she was.  About the size of a mouse and Hubby would carry her in his shirt pocket.  She is now 19 years old--that would be 93 years old in people years.  She has arthritis, bad teeth, underactive thyroid and the start of kidney malfunction.  But she is still my baby and she sleeps with me most nights.  I think she is always cold and that could be because we have a COLD house...it's OLD too!  Hubby said when I'm ready to let her go, he will take her to the vet's.  I was almost there last week, but the vet said she could have another year or so of happy life.

Then there is Bello.  Heaven knows why we were blessed with "Ninja Cat".  He flys from chair to bookcase, to piano and would land on the chandalier if he could find one.  Tonkinese are knowns to only befriend one person and Hubby is it.  Hubby really doesnt like the cats either, or so he says.  Bello is more like a dog than cat.  When hubby comes through the door, kitty is at his ankles and follows him everywhere.  When the family is quietly watching TV, Bello is sitting at his feet waiting for the signal to take over his lap.  But his favorite move is to jump on the back of hubby's chair and push his head into hubby's hair.  If he's lucky he gets the pat on the head and he's content.

In the next hour, I have to take the beast to the vet's.  He had an annual checkup and ended up having two absessed teeth removed.  He isnt the favorite patient at the vet's and his anti social behavior keeps the vets at a distance when we arrive.  With the last visit, Son and I were sitting quietly with Bello growling in my lap.  The lady beside me was patiently waiting for the vet to finish giving her kittie the routine checkup.  Kittie was visibly agitated, not cooperative and was quickly removed to the back room out of sight.  Son and I could hear the kittie bouncing off the walls and objects hitting the floor.  The lady beside us commented that she has never seen kittie like that before.   We know that it was Ninja Cat with his evil look. 

The vet is amazing with Bello.  He stares him down and waits till Bello decides to make friends.  Im so impressed!  Bello is quit lovable...really!

Now just before signing off...description of the picture.  Toi hates Bello.  This was a "kodak moment".  Bello must have replaced by an alien, or lost memory, or just hit by the cupid's arrow.  He is always 'jumping' Toi and she fights back.  This was "a moment"!  ...and I dedicate this picture to Edna who know's Bello best.

Cash Grab...Why Me? "Law Of Attraction"

Im sitting here quietly composing a "Thing's To Do List" for the day...or perhaps till the end of the year...or just in general.  There is so much to do at the Wolverton House.  I have one sitting on my table everyday.  If the phone rings, I add messages, write little notes or just doodle while on the computer.  But today  instead of jumping into a project, I started to think about all the things that I have done over the past six months to dodge those people and/or companies that are after the fast cash grab.

For those of you who dont know, I closed down my bridal business 18 months ago.  In that time I have desperately tried to tie up all the loose ends and pay out all the outstanding debts occured during the last months before, during and after the business closed.

I am hoping that today is the day I can say, all debts are settled and no more hands out to take.  I am constantly wondering why there are always, "Hands In My Pocket" to grab that last dime.  For instance, let me describe some of this year's "Grabs".

I will start with my experience in the summer.  It was August, I was driving somewhere (?) and the cell phone rang (yes I am in the car with a phone to my ear).  It was the local utility company letting me know that I was going to have my electricity and water services shot off by morning if a payment of $1,200 was not paid immediatly.  Not a good statement to hear while driving.  I managed to temperarily loose focus of the road and looked at the phone thinking she had the wrong person.  So composing myself briefly, asked the obvious questions.  Unfortunately she had the right person who lived at the right address.  Afterall, I own the Wolverton House, and, well, there is the "law of attraction" to grab money. 

I know I have been paying my bill faithfully and recently discovered that these services were getting more expensive each month.  I know I am using a heat gun daily to remove paint or water to wash debrie from the floors, but this was way too much to be sitting on an outstanding debt.  I told her I would call her back immediately when I returned home.  I wanted to look at my bank statements and IB receipts first.

So I collected these papers and called her back immediately.  It would appear that all of my payments that were paid through the bank machine were being redirected to the old account...our previous address of almost 2 years past.  At that point, I scooped up my bank stubs and utilitie receipts and marched down to the bank.  Flagging these papers in hand, and a few unfavored colourful words asked "what the f~!@ where they doing with my payment".  The girls polietly ushere me to an empty office where we sat to unravel this mistake.  I run a B&B and what would the guests think coming to a house with candle light and chamber pots, not to mention the boiled grass soup and dandilion salad for breakfast.  The manager phoned the utility company and explained that it was their error and they would deal with it and I went home.

The next day I called the gas company, and sure enough they too were showing a delinquent payment to the account.  Another visit to the bank, and yes, they immediately escorted me to an empty office before I uttered more colourful words.   But this time, they had no record of where they posted the payments.  I had my receipts and this was for them to correct.

September I decide to revise my debt load and decided to cancel my Moneris system.  This is the little machine that everyone is familiar with because it swipes credit/debit cards and takes your money at the retail level.  I had one for the bridal business and kept it as it was convenient for the B&B business.  I worked out the math and discovered that it was costing me 35% of my profits and made the executive decision to shut it down.  That seemed like a reasonable thing to do and with a simple call to the service center I was going to have it cancelled.  I had a pleasant conversation with the respresentative that said it would be cancelled by morning.  She want to explain that there would be a charge of $300 to cancel the account.  "What!"  I asked if I could have the account transferred to the B&B business instead.  So we chatted about that and discussed the details of having the company name changed.  It would be as simple as pulling up the existing account and typing in a name change.  The bank account, and all details would remain the same.  The rate would drop also because of the business differences.  So I decided to do this and all was arranged.  She went on the explain that there would be a charge of $300 to set up a new account.  "What!"  "This is a cash grab".  I had to think about this or...just react..."I want to speak to your supervisor".  I asked for my original contract to verify that I had signed an agreement that would get my money 'coming and going'.    However, in the meanwhile from the first conversation, Moneris had already put out the request to debit my "newly closed" business account for the $300.  Of course there was no money, there was no account.  The bank forwarded this debit the the master card service that held the business line of credit account.  But I had recently cancelled the credit card too.  Low and behold....hands in my pocket again!  The bank (with signed contract in file) had the ability to set up a new credit card account, activate it and bill the card for $300.  I was screwed...damed if I did and damed if I didnt.  Now there were flamed shooting out my nostrils.  I called the bank..."sorry, no can do".  I called the credit card company..."sorry, we have your signature".  I called Moneris and started going up the corporate ladder until finally the upper management agreed to credit my "non existing business account" with $300.  Three weeks later they finally send a cheque for $256.  Where is the other $44?  Dont know, dont care, I will run with what I have in hand.

So life is good again.  Hubby and I decide in October to pay out all credit card balances and life with cash only.  This sounds like a very practical plan to work out of debt.  What we cant afford with cash we cant have.  Makes a lot of sense.  We write out three cheques, one for his, two for mine (personal and business).  I put both cheques in the same envelope and mail them out immediately.  The end of October I get two statements; one is paid in full, the other, same big balance with interest,.  "What!#$%^%^"  Im on the phone again asking what they did with my "big" cheque to pay the account in full.  They dont have it because they are suggesting I didnt mail it or it got lost in the mail, or some other excuse.  "sorry", I said, but both cheques were in the same envelope.  Now I am really concerned and dont want to pay any more money to the bank than I have to.  It is a cash grab everywhere I turn these days.  I tell them to put a note in file that a second cheque is in the mail and to hold the other when and if it is found.  The end of October I receive the new statement.  They cashed both cheques! and I have a huge credit on the account.  No @#$ way they are keeping this!  So I phoned again (this is now a full time career for me).  They promise to issue a refund cheque, and it came 10 days later....with a new statement asking for $13.34 because payment was late.  F#$% this and fired off a cheque to get this out of the way for ever. 

Statement arrived friday....$25 service fee and requirement of minimum payment of $10.  Guess what...more nostril flames and a call to CIBC credit card services!  Roger answers, listens to my lengthy story and...sorry mam but you owe this amount for having an invalid account for this auto payment plan.  I explained that in October the card was paid off...etc, etc.  Sorry mam, you will have to pay!  So I hung up and immediately called the 800 number back, knowing a new operater would answer.  "Hello Neil", I said and explained how angry I was becoming and I wanted to be reimbursed for this terrible error on CIBC's part.  He put me on hold and....disappeared.  Im slowly turning into the Green Hulk and decided they were not going to get the better of me, I was going to call back a third time.  Tammy answered this time.  She listened with empathy and said, yes, they would reverse the charge of $25.  Sorry for the inconvenience and have a good day.

Life if good today!

Christmas' at the Wolverton

We are now in our home for the third Christmas.  As always, we are without the festive spirit.  This is not to say that it will not eventually come.  Like the years past, we have been ankle deep in dust, paint chips being stripped from baseboards, bags of sawdust, and so on.  There isnt a room that is suitable for a Christmas tree. 

Our first year was spent in the Carriage House. We had a lovely little tree that stood about 18" high that I picked up from the florist section of the grocery store.  It was one of those cute little trees that came with a package full of little lights and miniture ornaments.  It was carefully set up on the end of the blanket box that sat just off centre of one of the windows.  I proceeded to place tiny presents around the tree.  Eventually, we lost sight of it as the pile of presents grew.  As the time approached closer to Christmas, our spirit grew and parties were created and friends were invited to share Holiday Cheer and good food.  As always, with minimal kick start approximately three days before Christmas,  we found the true meaning of giving and had a wonderful time.  Christmas day around the Wolverton House was full of buzzing saws and swinging hammers...as always. 

Our second Christmas became a bit more sophisticated with an eight foot tree this time.  And we set it up in an appropriate spot between the windows in our parlour.  Again, I was slow getting the spirit but did eventually start to dress the tree in our traditional manor of 'anything eatible'.  There were gingerbread cooking, sugar cookie, Ferraro Chocolates, marshmello treats, candy canes and much much more.  The presents arrive too.  Lots of them.  I even got into the spirit of making sock monkeys for everyone.  Im sure there must have been at least two dozen socks cut and shaped for everyone special to us.  As always Christmas came with great cheer and giving and food galor!  We were even invited to a "lobster feast"...with one catch...that we provide the dining room!  And we did and had 15 of our favourite people there to celebrate.

It is now Christmas 2009 and as usually it is ten days before Christmas.   I splurged this year and purchased two cedar and spruce urns that sit on either side of the front door (which BTW only took me from June to October to strip, sand, straighten out, repair and paint...another story).  There is nothing going on inside yet except for a few Christmas Cards, company gifts (one very, very nice 18" tree with little lights and mini ornaments that sits on the dining room table) and all the candy/cookie/chocolates in a huge bag waiting for the Christmas tree to arrive.   We have discussed where the tree will sit this year, should we finally decide to purchase one.  We have waivered back and forth about going to visit my aunt in the US.  Although we have B&B guests, we can still leave if we choose to.  We still have ten days to decide what we are going to do.  Still nothing really planned yet.  We breifly discussed today, going shopping to get presents for Justin.  Although he is seventeen now, he is a dye-hard fan of Santa and we wouldnt want to disappoint our "baby".  We will miss the gift giving with the older kids as one is off in Australia and the other in Nova Scotia now.  One is planning to vacation three weeks in India, leaving right after Christmas day.  But we will set up a tree and dress it in the traditional manor with all the cookies, candies and sweets that have been specially collected.  ...and our invitation for Lobster Feast came this year...or rather next year as we are planning to "pig out" on January 2, 2010.

"Tim the tool man" and I plan to work hard as always before, during and after Christmas celebrations and plan to have our laundry room well on it's way to completion...and a bed sitting in the master's room.

A Merry Christmas to all who read this...and an open invitation to come and join us during the holidays.  Join us  in our dining room and enjoy sweets from the tree and enjoy Irish/Spanish/hot chocolate and/or coffee with scoops and scoops of real whipped cream!

Asa Wolverton House Restoration Progress

We have had many requests to post our progress on the restoration of the Wolverton House. For those who have found this blog and have not heard of this house, let me give you a bit of history.

This home was built in 1851 by a lumber merchant, Asa Wolverton. He was originally from Cayuga, NY but migrated into Canada with his family when he was a young man of only 17 years old. I have not found any information about his life before the time that he started building this magnificant Greek Revival Plantation House on the Banks of the Grand River in Brant County. He married Juliet Capron from Leicester, VT. For what ever reason, they did not have any children, however, it is believed that they were a very happy household during the ten years that they lived together in this house. Asa's family was very much a part of the Civil War and four of his nephews were stewards in New York during the 1850's. Also during that time Asa and his wife took in the freed slaves that would wonder up the banks of the Grand River. His home was the only one allowed to take in these people.

I have come across family records that describe several of the black servants that lived with the Wolvertons. There have also been Irish immigrants that were employeed by the Wolverton's. At the onset there were two sisters (or cousins) that worked for this couple. Later there was a family of four that stayed at this house and worked for the family.

August of 2007, my husband and I purchased this historic manor with great intentions of restoring it back to it's original spendor. We have ripped out everything that was not original to this home, including dismantelling three apartment units. To date, it is returned to one home; the plumbing, electrical, heating and cooling systems have been modernized. The walls have been insulated and currently the roof is being totally replaced.

Our jouney to this point has been exactly as we predicted, however our friends and neighbours shake their heads in amazement that we live like this. You see, we live in an ongoing construction zone in every part of our home. We have no finished walls, floors, trim, window frames, doors and stairs. We do however have several tool rooms, spiders, cobwebs, dust, three bathrooms near completion. We are still missing the doors...just minor details. I've survived living through the dark ages when we had no electricity for weeks, survived the two weeks when there was no plumbing. That will be another story.

I will begin my story by telling you what we did today. My husband is finally going to get the laundry room together. He started today by continuing to patch holes in the lathe and plaster walls and boxing in duct work. I told him weeks ago that I would no longer do the family laundry until I had a "real laundry room" with my appliances both residing in the same room. Right now, the dryer is in the main house and the washer is in the Carriage House (next door). Its really, really cold outside and today it is trying to snow. I refuse to spend another moment carrying cold, wet laundry in and out and out and in and all the while dropping a sock or a tea towel or a shirt on route.

I, on the other hand, chose to work in the Master Bedroom. We are still sleeping "where ever" and we still don't own a mattress for the new canopy bed that sits in storage..in the laundry room... since last May. BTW, "where ever" includes our B&B guests quarters down the road, in the Carriage house guest beds, the sofa, on 3/4 mattresses on the floor upstairs, 3" cot mattress on the floor in the library, in the trailer, and at times, I have left home to stay with my Aunt, hundreds of miles away. This month we are sharing a 160 year old bed in the guest room. Nice mattress, and very cozy-- tight together.

It's been almost a year working on this room and we are almost there! Two weeks ago, I spent three days hanging wallpaper. We stripped the paint from the floor, sanded and ready for paint. I stapled the canvas to the floor as I am making the 12'x10' floor cloth. I was so excited weeks ago to think that we would soon be sleeping in a 'real' bed, in a real room, that we could actually call our own. I was counting the days till I could lie in bed and watch TV...a favourite past time. I had finished putting up the final piece of wall paper and cleaned the floor and went to bed (on the floor in the library) excited but exhausted. The next day I was going to paint my floor cloth and count the days till completion. As I lie on the floor, I could hear the rain pouring down hard and fast and all the time questioning if it was raining inside and not out. My husband came in to listen but excused it as being misdirected water from the roof. Afterall the eave trough was missing now and the rain was falling into the gravel patch on the other side of the parlour windows.

By morning, the carpenter had returned to finish his job of repairing and restoring the facia board and trim. He came in to ask if we had any water on the inside of the house. I didnt like the question and proceeded to climb the stairs and enter the Master bedroom. Sure enough, the trim around the window had buckled, water dripping from the cil, huge dark wet spots on the newly papered walls around the window and the pine floor water soaked like a sponge along the wall's edge. Now the paper is removed from the wall, and a heater is on full time to dry up the lathe and plaster and floor. The floor has black streaks and waves that hopefully will be sanded back to flat. You see, the rain started late afternoon and the carpenter decided to leave early...forgetting to put the trim on that would keep the rain from entering between the walls and soaking the newly blown-in insulation. Two weeks later and the insulation is still like a wet sponge and the walls...well I cant even think what is happening between the walls right now. The parlour wall is really sad looking too. I told the carpenter to be glad that room wasnt done yet as it has $4,000 worth of custom historically correct wall paper ready to hang.

Today I have concentrated on painting the floor cloth as there is nothing else I can do until the wall completely drys, window put back together, floor resanded. Hopefully we will have a completed bedroom before Christmas. 

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