52 down, 260 to go

Oh man. Apparently it's been almost a month since I posted last. Sorry about that. Quick update: I went to the Clearwater Camp reunion, which was lovely and hilarious. For those of you who don't know, this is the camp where my sisters and I went for several years as kids, where our grandmother was the camp nurse, and where Marty is now a senior (!!) counselor and head of the sailing program. While we were there, we went riding, water skiing, and sailing, but I only got this one picture of us in our riding gear:Immediately following the camp reunion, I went to Portugal, which was also lovely and hilarious, though in a different way than the camp reunion. I met up with my friends Sandra, Inga, and Patrick, as well as Inga and Patrick's now 1-year-old (!!) daughter, Mathilde.
We spent a lot of the vacation at the beach, but we did also visit the city of Porto. It is an incredibly picturesque place to visit, full of old churches (see below), cafes on the Duoro river, and other variations on the theme of dilapidated glory.Also full of port wine. I love port wine, and good port (I like older tawny port best) is either hard to find or too expensive for me in the U.S. But in Porto, the wine was both cheap and delicious, especially in the various port cellars along the river.
There were also a few cool bridges, including this one, which was built by a student of the man who built the Eiffel Tower.
In the evenings, we hung out at home (Sandra's parents' place) and cooked and ate and drank. They built a really neat brick oven in their backyard, which we used for grilling fish and veggies.
Did I mention the bakeries? There were bakeries. We stopped for pastries probably twice a day. Everything was either 70% egg yolk or deep fried, except for a delicacy called fertudas (or something like that), which was both.
There was also lots of time in cafes, including the one on the beach:
And, again, the beach. If you know me, you know how easily I burn, so you should be proud that I remained white the whole time, until the VERY LAST DAY, when I somehow forgot to put sunblock on the backs of my knees and my right buttcheek, resulting in the most uncomfortable trans-Atlantic flight EVER.
Since Portugal, I've been stuck in a whirlwindtimesuck known as teaching orientation, and in my spare time, I've been buying that house I mentioned a month ago.

Speaking of orientation, it's been a source of constant amazement lately that I'm headed into my second year of graduate school. Also that I'm getting married, that I'm buying that house, that I'm being trusted with the minds of America's youth (who will be calling me FRAU JORGENSEN), that March is finally over.... Given how the passage of time kind of sneaks up on me, it's hard to believe that in just another month, I'll be living it up in the new house. (FYI: moving day is September 28th. We'd be happy to have you, especially if you have any carpentry experience or a wallpaper steamer. If, for some reason, you can't make it, do what you can to make sure it doesn't rain that day.)

Happy Birthday, Matt!

Yesterday was Matt's 21st birthday. We missed having you all there, but we still had a good time, and luckily I got some pictures to prove it. The evening went from pleasantly full (dinner at the Christensens' - tacos and beer, with an almond berry tart for dessert)... ...to pleasantly excited (about drinking in public at Sweeney's, one of my favorite bars)...

...to a little belligerent (a little bit of that southern twang Matt develops when he gets this way, flashing gang signs, etc.)...

(I think this "W" is for "Wyoming. He was wearing his cowboy boots and a large belt buckle, too. I think he was trying to get in a bar fight with one of those Twin Cities metrosexuals, but they don't spend much time at Sweeney's.)

...to incredible, even though we were not drinking Elephant Beer...

...to completely silly, as you can see here. I think he was imitating one of the animals to which he has lately taken a strong dislike (apparently, penguins are assholes), but I'm not entirely sure.

On an unrelated note, I think my camera is getting worse, if such a thing is possible. It's only two years old, but I feel like the pictures it takes are always kind of blurry, cloudy, and off-color these days. Anyone else notice this? Suggestions (besides spending a bunch of money on a fancy schmancy camera)?

We're in!

We got it! After minimal (but incredibly stressful) haggling via their realtor, we finally got the signed purchase agreement for the house yesterday afternoon, and ultimately a better deal than what we had originally offered. Next step: inspection, then financing (both contingencies in the PA) then closing September 19. At this point, you are more than welcome to come help visit - we'll probably spend a week or two at after closing doing some things that are just easier to deal with before we live there (ripping up carpet), and chip away at the rest of it once we're in.

Note: Photo borrowed without permission from someone on flickr. I do not know these women. But no one out here jumps in the air to express their happiness for me, and until I can get Matt to photoshop your faces onto them, or until you send me a picture of your (hopefully overjoyed) reaction to the good news, they will just have to do.

The Outside

Per your request, photos of the outside of the house. We're still waiting to hear from the sellers.

There isn't much to say about the outside of the house itself, except that I wish the windows were bigger. And that it were brick. But one cannot have everything.

Here, you can see the extent of the landscaping. Just that bush and that tree. The rest of the yard is grass.

This is the back of the house and the garage. The rows of four windows on both floors are the windows for the "porches."

Here, you can see most of the yard (too big for my tiny camera!), part of the driveway, and the neighbor's house. The alley is paved, and although the garage is only for one car, this spot next to it would easily fit one or two more cars.

House-hungry

Here are some more pictures from the house we're interested in. Full disclosure: we're waiting to see if the sellers accept the purchase agreement terms we proposed, and then to see if the inspection we're getting turns up anything horrible.

This is the living room. Under that ugly carpet are wood floors!


This is one of the bathrooms. Tiny, yes, but one of THREE. Ok, one of those three is kind of scary and in the basement, and the third is only slightly larger than this one, but still. THREE.






This is the deck on the back of the house, along with a glimpse of the huge yard. Did I mention that it's on a double lot?







One of the upstairs bedrooms. There are technically four in the house (two up and two down), but one of the downstairs ones will probably be something else, like a library or a den or something.

Another one of the bedrooms. There is enough space in this house that we might just turn it into a GUEST ROOM. Which might just make us real adults. Also, you would have a place to stay when you come to help us renovate!









Here, Matt is walking through the second kitchen to the upstairs porch. The house was once a duplex (there are some stairs going nowhere in the basement). Because this is Minnesota, the porches are just regular rooms with extra windows and no real insulation. And in the case of this house, pine wood paneling. I'm still figuring out how to come to terms with this.


This is the upstairs hall, shot from the landing between floors. Note the classy wallpaper (which I might just keep) and more (not pine) wood paneling.










This is the dining room, and the end of our tour for today.

Update

Ok, I know it's been a few days (9?!) since I finished the Istanbul report and said there was other stuff happening here that deserved some space. Sorry! It's mostly old news now, and not one of my most creative posts (I'm in a hurry!), but just pretend that you're as out of the loop as I am and it will seem new and fascinating.
1) I cut Matt's hair. It has apparently been too hot for regular hair, which I find hard to believe, since my hair is 15 times longer than his was, but he had more hair to cut off than I expected. Here are some of the styles we considered.
I think this would have helped Matt make lots of new friends here in St. Paul, but apparently he's too good for the local tattoo shop crowd.
This is about what he looks like now, even though this photo is at least a week old. After we finished with Matt's, Rob got jealous (he seems to suffer a lot in the heat), so we cut off all his hair too.
I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm a bit jealous of his hair - it's thick and dark and kind of curly, where mine is thin and stubbornly straight - so it was hard to see it all cut off. But it turns out that my family's hair is a lot easier on the clippers than his.
Don't worry, I still have my hair. But that may change if the weather continues.
After fixing up the guys, I decided it was time to tackle other, longer-standing projects, so I finally got some primer and paint and polyurethane (which is a lot more expensive than I thought)
and painted this previously hideous roll-top desk and our coffee table. The project took me three days of painting, two of which were pretty good painting days. I learned that white paint and black dogs do not mix, and neither do perfectionism and procrastinating (both of which are problems for me). I haven't put the hardware back on, because I want to find something better (but that isn't keeping us from using it). I haven't found something better because first I need to finish up the detail on the roll-top. I probably won't get around to either of these because I wasted so much time working on that stupid desk that I am behind schedule on my research project.
Etcetera.



In other big news, Rob and I might buy a house. This plan is only a few hours old, so don't get too excited (but do cross your fingers, and maybe free up some time this fall to come help us renovate/move). Here is a sneak peek of the kitchen.

Constantinople

Probably my last post about Istanbul. Not just because there aren't that many other good names to call it, but because we are coming to the end of my pictures. And other things are happening that deserve to be written up here. And today's to-do list is as long as my arm. So:
Me with pistachio and raspberry ice cream at the islands. I asked for a small cone, and this is what I got. Like pretty much everyone else in the world, Turks are extraordinarily proud of their ice cream, which is a little like gelatto, but tastes basically like lots of sugar and not much else. I frankly can't understand why they would bother with ice cream when there are so many other things there worth eating....
This is a lighthouse and a ferry/railroad station on the Asian side which we passed on our way back from the islands. The station was built by the Germans back in the late 1800s. It is pretty.
Ayse and her mother at the largest meal we ate while I was there. We went over to Elif's house, where she and her mother made spreads and dips and sandwiches and this kind of noodley-cheesy dish called borek which I love, and served it all with various olives, cucumbers, tomatoes, simit, french bread, jams, honeys, and cheeses. And tea (always tea). We ate in a little gazebo they have out in their garden, which is a rare commodity even on the outskirts of town. It very much resembled a scene from French Kiss, or one of those mafia films where the family eats out in the rustic, Sicilian garden: too much food, scraggly fruit trees, birds and butterflies and daisies and little kids chasing kittens through the grass, except there was no wine and many of the women were wearing headscarves. While we ate, Elif's extended family came by to meet us and show us their babies (a favorite pastime of the Turkish housewife). Lovely.
After this marathon brunch, I thought we were headed home, but we (obviously) went to visit some other family somehow related to Ayse. Her maternal aunt, I believe. They live in a different compound than the one where I stayed (which was paternal aunts and uncles). This family had a plot of land with one stumpy little apartment building and one tiny house, with a mostly paved courtyard between them. Ayse's aunt lived in the "big house," along with some of her five sons, their wives, and their kids, and the rest of them lived in the "little house." They all seemed to spend most of their time in the courtyard (above and below), though, wherever there was some shade. Aye's cousins-in-law (or whatever you call the wives of her cousins) were funny and very curious about me; luckily, this visit was near the end of my week, so my Turkish was much improved and I managed to actually converse with them without too much trouble. They gave me a couple of recipes which I intend to try sometime soon, along with lots of dubious advice about babies and married life.
After a lunch of pizza, cake, fruit, and tea, we moved on to a dinner of meat, salad, bread, and tea. The men were really excited to grill for us; it was the only food prep I saw any men do (outside of restaurants), and it was probably because they don't do it much that it was so (unnecessarily) complicated. They had a tiny metal table/box thing, about the size of a laptop, where they put some charcoal and wood, and put that on top of a big oil drum thing. After about two hours of fanning and dancing around and feeding the tiny fire with little sticks and paper, they got impatient (or their wives did) for the coals to reach just the right temperature and broke out the HAIR DRYER, and sprayed sparks all over everyone, putting little burn marks in the headscarves of several people. Eventually, the meat cooked, and it was lovely, but probably not worth the trouble.This is Ayse's youngest brother, Furkhan, holding some Ottoman candy. Like most other male member's of Ayse's family, he is extremely shy, and only started speaking to me after I lived in his house for four days. He is also pretty into Ottoman history, from what I can tell, and tried to explain to me the importance of this taffy thing in the grand scheme of Turkish history. I didn't really get it. On my last day in Istanbul, I extracted from Ayse a promise to help me buy the things I wanted to take home. We discussed our plan in great detail the night before, and agreed to leave the house by 10am to drive into the city; the next morning, obviously, we didn't hit the road until 11:30. I was so annoyed by this, and by the fact I hadn't had breakfast, that I wasn't really paying attention where we were going until Ayse rang the bell of a very heavy, ornate door in the fancy-schmancy shopping district of Nisantasi (not the place to buy Turkish teacups, which is what I wanted to shop for). No, we weren't there for teacups, we were there TO VISIT MORE FAMILY. I know, I know, cultural differences and all that. So here is Ayse with her "most charismatic" uncle, who, like most of her uncles, run some kind of textile company. She works for one of them, but not this one (I think). We visited three more uncles that day, as well as Ayse's tailor, and did make one cursory stop for a teakettle. We didn't have time to buy teacups like I wanted, so Ayse's mother gave me some. This is Ayse's mother on my last night. She was a lovely woman, kept calling me her second daughter and making sure I had enough cold water, even though she herself doesn't really drink water. Unlike the Turkish hospitality I encountered elsewhere, she was not imposing or demanding; she was never offended when I declared myself unable to eat another bite, and, in addition to the teacups, she only gave me a hand-embroidered towel and a scarf with lace which she also made herself. This was much easier to transport than the pants, skirts, blouses, and jacket which Ayse's textile relatives insisted I take with me, or the book on the life of the prophet her more pious aunts gave me....