Casa da Nuvea: part viii the neighborhood

These are some scenes of what will be my neighborhood for the next few weeks. As you can see, Telhados Grandes is a very teeny, tiny village of a couple dozen houses at my last count, conveniently located in the middle of nowhere with absolutely nothing to do. When's the last time a travel destination offered so much freedom from restless and frenzied activity? Highlights or points of interest include a traditional cistern to catch rainfall for the farm animals to drink, as well as an olive oil press. And there is no real street to my little house, just a cow track.

But that's ok with me.















 







 

Progress! New windows & doors, and more...

Ta Da! And we have progress! A beautiful new door and two windows have been replaced (the old ones were just too rotted away) and I think they look very charming. Electricity is being installed and there is running water! A bathroom has been installed, with a stone/tile floor to avoid any further water damage, and a repurposed wood beam created to house the sink, attached to the wall with a large stone from the garden. The shower has been tiled with local stone and other windows have been replaced with salvaged but more intact ones from a nearby restaurant. I can't wait to share the rest of the photos with you, especially those of you who've patiently followed along since the beginning of this painstakingly long process. xo

Stone Walls

In a couple of days I’ll be honing my masonry skills. I’ve been frequently teased about my bizarre (to some) affection for rocks. I like to collect them and place them all over the garden, and extra special ones go on window sills and bookshelves. But when my aunt recently published a book about her childhood and growing up in a tiny village of Portugal, there were many stories of the rocky landscape, and of children playing with rocks in lieu of real dolls or toys; for in those days, Portugal was a very poor country. So, maybe my strange affinity for rocks comes from this slightly barren landscape that my eyes have rested on ever since I can remember, and maybe it’s been passed on down through the generations of my family building their homes by hand, one rock at a time. In any case, it will be good to touch these stone walls and imagine the lives of the men and families that built them. And know that in some small way, I am honoring that tradition.

Casa da Nuvea part: v the barn

Ah, I don't even know where to begin here...

 

It has so much potential...I get so inspired....and then...



I see this. And it just takes all the wind out of my sails...haha! I mean where does one even start?



With the rotted wood doors? The mold on the walls? The goat poop on the floor? The fact that there really isn't even a floor, just dirt.



It's all just a little overwhelming.







But then I see those beautiful stone walls. It could be so...charming.

One day.



And upstairs, another sleeping loft.



Eventually.



Because right now, it's just a dark, scary abyss.

Casa da Nuvea: part vii, the future kitchen

It's Saturday morning, and I'm browsing airfares for my upcoming trip to Portugal.

And so the daydreaming of what will be done on my little olive farm begins anew...Which means it's time for another update on the progress of the renovations.

This, dear readers, is what will one day be the kitchen.

 

This is what it looked like before we pulled out all the brambles and weeds.



Ta-Da! Would you just look at the progress?? It will be finished in no time.

Really.



I'm not quite sure what these gigantic rocks will be used for...they look like some sort of sculptural element, so I'd like to build around them but not sure what that will look like... I'm thinking a glass wall of some kind, with shutters to protect during inclement weather, or simple French doors, running the length of the room, to throw open on warm days and let in the scent of  wild rosemary from the garden. And a skylight, perhaps, to brighten the dark, winter days. There will definitely be a long, wooden farm table and a "rustic" chandelier...



The best part was dicovering...this. The beautiful, original bread oven. I can't wait to bake my first loaf of pao caseiro, the traditional country-style bread of Portugal.