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Nov. 30th, 2001 10:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetPleasant dinner last night with the Landlady. As a bonus, the Landlord showed up, having driven down from the North Country, 15 minutes into it. As J. had randomly chosen to cook another chicken part, we were even able to offer him food.
Much wine was consumed, and we were shown "before and after" photos of the house, especially what the interiors of the rooms of our apartment used to look like. Massive differences abound. I'm glad we have a new stove, for instance, having seen a picture of the old iron coal-burner that was there until just two years ago. It was at least a century old and jury-rigged to hold together with wires and a concrete patch. It was also the only mechanism for heat and hot water throughout the entire house, and the hot water part didn't work. But the Landlady's eccentric artist uncle who lived there didn't seem to mind, I guess.
Our living room used to be his primary studio. Where our couch is now were several tables holding scores of paint tubes and brushes and, for some reason, a mighty horde of dried autumn leaves carefully arranged on paper. Apparently Artist Man was way into leaves. There aren't so many in his extant art works, but he squirreled them away in old books, shoved them in drawers, and, of course, just left them lying around.
The barn/garage/oversized-tool-shed thing in the back yard was, until some time before we moved in, leaning ominously, the outline of its walls more paralellogram than rectangle. You wouldn't know it now...
In other news, we'll see if the boss/advisor remembers our rescheduled appointment today. I'm still not looking forward to it, though.
Much wine was consumed, and we were shown "before and after" photos of the house, especially what the interiors of the rooms of our apartment used to look like. Massive differences abound. I'm glad we have a new stove, for instance, having seen a picture of the old iron coal-burner that was there until just two years ago. It was at least a century old and jury-rigged to hold together with wires and a concrete patch. It was also the only mechanism for heat and hot water throughout the entire house, and the hot water part didn't work. But the Landlady's eccentric artist uncle who lived there didn't seem to mind, I guess.
Our living room used to be his primary studio. Where our couch is now were several tables holding scores of paint tubes and brushes and, for some reason, a mighty horde of dried autumn leaves carefully arranged on paper. Apparently Artist Man was way into leaves. There aren't so many in his extant art works, but he squirreled them away in old books, shoved them in drawers, and, of course, just left them lying around.
The barn/garage/oversized-tool-shed thing in the back yard was, until some time before we moved in, leaning ominously, the outline of its walls more paralellogram than rectangle. You wouldn't know it now...
In other news, we'll see if the boss/advisor remembers our rescheduled appointment today. I'm still not looking forward to it, though.
