Tunnel Rumors

The night before we closed on this house, I dreamed about a tunnel. I dreamed I was in the little building behind the house and was moving a stack of doors someone had left behind. (There are several doors in the little building behind the house that someone left behind. They appear to be doors that once shut off the kitchen, the crooked hallway, the dining room, and various other rooms.)

Anyway, I dreamed that I found an opening in the floor, underneath those doors, that led to the house. There were nubs of candles and old match books and newspapers and glass littering the tunnel floor. It felt damp and endlessly dark. I awoke from the dream with a start, and recounted the dream in detail the next morning. He mmmm-hhhmm'd, as usual, half listening.

I'd all but forgotten about the dream later that day. We were sitting around a multi-legged conference table with 7 bankers, realtors and various people in ironed shirts and ties... people who kept checking their iPhones and talking about MLS listings and mortgage insurance. Suddenly, from the far end of the table, I picked up on discussion about items left in the attic. Ah. Yes, the attic. 

Typical old house attic, our realtor said. No telling what you might find.

I nodded politely.

And then of course there's the tunnels, he added, offhandedly. 

 I bashed my knee into one of those blasted table legs, I turned so quickly.

Here's the story: as I mentioned yesterday, the house was built minutes from downtown. During Prohibition, the realtor explained, bootleggers began using- and extending- the existing tunnels running underneath the theatre, the hotel, and surrounding establishments. They extended them, rumor has it, to many of the houses up and down these historic streets. Why? Because what better way to clear out of a place... or run liquor downtown... is there? Buy a house several blocks up, put in a tunnel that links to the main tunnel's arteries, and run your illicit goods without fear of meddling townsfolk or law men.

Those guys bought houses up and down your street, the realtor added. Or they had friends who did. Could have been yours.

No.flipping.way.

He asked us to call if we found a tunnel. And so far, we haven't. What we have found, however, are several cut-outs in the floor that hold old furnace grates. Or used to. Although the hole above made me wonder: could one of those grates conceal an entrance to a tunnel? Or what about the floor boards in the closets? 

Call me Nancy Drew, but I'm curious now. In fact, I'm beyond curious. I have half a mind to get my pry bar and hammer and start trying to lift these grates and test out floors.

If we find a tunnel, you'll be the first to know. -Brin

Mrs. Nell and the Cobblestone Street

The wide street that runs in front of our house used to be cobblestone. I learned this after noticing, while picking up limbs that had fallen over the curb, that there were older, smooth-looking stones where the pavement has worn away.

This tidbit was corroborated by Mrs. Nell, the older woman across the way. According to Mrs. Nell, our street used to be the street the trolley made a u-turn on back in the day. It was the thing, she said, to take the trolley down to the Grim Hotel to go dancing... or to the Saenger Theatre to see a show. Folks would parade out of these old houses in their finery, motor or trolley the short distance downtown, and see and be seen. It was the thing, she insisted, pointing a wrinkled hand in the direction of the hotel and theatre and studying my face.

I believe her.

Mrs. Nell's house is turned strangely on her small lot so that it's actually turned away from the cobblestone street and faces our house. This is my view (though it's farther away than pictured) from my south bedroom window. I adore it. Doesn't her house look like something out of a story? I think so. Even at night. Especially at night. Sometimes I see the light on in an upstairs window and want to sit down, right then, and begin writing a book. Her house is just as much a muse as my own. 

(She's never invited us in, and I'm curious if it fits the pictures in my imagination. Maybe after she gets to know us a little better, we'll see inside. I'll keep you posted.)

After having lived on this cobblestone street for almost 50 years, Mrs. Nell knows things. She told me she was in her mid-20s when she first saw her house and immediately dreamed of living there. Soon after, she married a widower with daughters and told him of her dream. They all drove by the house that evening. Mrs. Nell said they waited almost 5 years, and lo and behold, the house was put up for sale. Her husband made an offer but it was already spoken for. Mrs. Nell said she cried, even as her husband promised her that one day they'd have that house. Sure enough, a year or two later the new owner had to move. When she talks about the day they moved in, her voice gets clearer and lighter. It's the same voice she uses when talking about her dearly departed husband. Just off the cobblestone street, his car is still parked near the barn door-style detached garage. It has flat tires. I think he's been gone 22 years.

We yell across the way at each other nearly every morning now, usually while she waters her marigolds and I drown my herbs. This morning I skipped watering. All day I've wondered how she is- if she's staying cool enough. Maybe I should go check on her. It's over 100 degrees here today and she doesn't have central air.

I think I will go see about her.

Love from the cobblestone street today. -Brin

House Helper Giveaway!

It's Giveaway Day! Also known as Friday in parts of the world. I don't care what you call it, it's here and I'm excited!

First off, I want to thank you... yep, you... for showing up here. For reading. For sharing my messy home and heart. It's hard to say just what you all have meant to me... checking in, reading, commenting, encouraging. Some days it's been my lifeline. I know there are many of you out there who have never said hello, and that's okay, too. I know you're here, and we have a bond. That's all that matters. Thank you.

And now for the Giveaway from my shop, Balm and Honey! If the randomizer thingy didn't pick your name this time, don't lose heart. I will be giving House Helpers away regularly through the end of the year, so hang in and soon I bet you'll be the one finding a package from me on your doorstep.

So, without further ado, this time's House Helper Giveaway winner is Patricia, who said:

My favorite hand made item in my home... a 3ft by 6ft hand-crocheted rag rug. I made it about 25 years ago when my babies were still little. It has lasted and lasted. Machine washable and line dries...it has faded over time; but still it keeps my feet warm. It is versatile too- I've used it in the kitchen, the bathroom, the mudroom, near the hearth... 

I love that rug! 

Congrats, Patricia! As you may know, we dig handmade rugs around here, so I can completely understand rug lovin'. I hope you'll enjoy your new handknit cloth just as much!

If you want some knitted goodness of your own, don't forget that the 15% off coupon code SWEETSUMMER15 is good through midnight tonight. Head over to the shop now before they're temporarily sold out!

Again, thank you for being here. I appreciate you. Have a great weekend, okay? See you next week. -Brin

The Simple Human Gift

...What a rare and beautiful treasure

Is the simple human gift of joy.
-Giles Andreae

We can't lose it- this rare and simple human gift of joy. We can't. No matter what comes, no matter what we see, no matter what fills our newsfeeds or our sleepless nights, we can't lose joy.

I was thinking about this awhile ago while unpacking my dishes and stacking them in the built-in hutch in the dining room. (Some women loves shoes. Or lipsticks. Or purses. I'm a dishes girl. I have a mix of white dishes I use for every day, but I love my different sets. I think I have 7 different ones.) Setting a table, making dinner, inviting over friends... family... new faces... gives me joy. It's simple, but it's real. Joy. 

The news is beyond scary lately. It's only in the past few weeks that I've been thankful I'm not a reporter anymore. But the scarier the news gets, the more confident I become in a good God... an attentive God... and a God with purposes and promises that will all make sense in the end.

So I unpack my dishes and pray my prayers and keep on trusting. Trusting... and looking for moments of that simple human gift-- joy.

Don't forget about The House Helper Giveaway! -Brin

House Helper GiveAway!

If you've been around My Messy, Thrilling Life any time at all, you know: folks around here adore handmade. 

One of the things that's stayed consistent throughout the 10 years of this blog is the popularity of the handknit cloth. We can't get enough! (I'm secretly afraid that the one thing I'll be remembered for after I die is handknit dish cloths. Really. *sheepish grin*) No matter the color, shape, or style, we just can't seem to get our hands on enough of these handmade goodies.

That's one reason I'm excitedly happy to announce that my beloved shop, Balm and Honey, has reopened! I have many cloths already knitted... and piles of yarn ready to knit... into these special cloths that have made dish washing, bathing, and chores so much more pleasant.

If you haven't had the pleasure of using these beauties around the house, I want to give you a chance to see what the fan craze is about. On Friday, I'll give one lucky reader a cloth of their choice from my shop. Simply comment below and tell me your favorite handmade item in your house, and you'll be entered to win! Tweet, Pin, or Instagram this post, and comment again to have your name entered twice.

Don't want to wait, or see a cloth you want before it's gone? Bring home some of this happy knitting for yourself by clicking here and entering promo code SWEETSUMMER15 for 15% off your purchase through the end of the week.

 I appreciate your readership and presence here more than I can say. Thank you for meeting here, for sharing my life, and supporting this home renovation. 

Thanks, and happy shopping. Good luck! -Brin

Persevering

The rewards for those who persevere 

far exceed the pain that must precede the victory.

-Ted Engstrom

So when I said that refinishing the floors in this lumbering, wooden house was bordering on in(sand)ity, I meant it. 

Look at that. Would you look at it? Y'all. I didn't think I would ever get all that grit and dust out of here! But slowly, it came out... and as it did, my sanity slowly returned. Ha. Yes. It returned, that is, until the day I realized that I had to hand stain each individual 9 inch piece of flooring. Thousands of squares. On all fours. With a sock. Why? Because the floor is actually a puzzle of 80+ year old red oak, hickory and pine, and it was laid as parquet in the front formal rooms of the house.

After the sanding and sweeping, this was my life for 2 1/2 days:

But I finished!

Just as I was wrapping up, my Dad came over to lend a helping hand. The first thing that caught his attention? The huge iron furnace grate installed right smack-dab in the center of the floor between the front room and the dining room. He pulled the grate, built in the resulting hole, and painstakingly patched the parquet flooring, one square at a time. The only (slight) problem was that the flooring available today is red oak, and it stained much differently than the 80+ year old mixed woods.

Ah well. I'm going to make it match if it's the last thing I do! You can see the patch, and an early stain attempt, here:

But oh! What a relief to get this floor nearly finished! Except for that patch- which I intend to complete this weekend- this place is looking better than she has in years.

My sister and I are headed to Dallas tomorrow, Lord willing, for drapes and kitchen countertops. That means the paper can come off the windows and the kitchen cabinets and sink can go in this weekend! There aren't enough exclamation points in the world for that!

Elsewhere around the place, the POD we parked out front to store all our furniture until the floors were done was hauled off today. I was so excited I jumped up and down. It's feeling more like a home (instead of a construction site) every day. 

I've decided that once we're up and running, I want to host classes here and open up a few rooms for overnight class guests. Knitting, bread baking, beginning beekeeping, herb gardening, and sewing are just a few of the classes I want to offer. Wouldn't that be fun? I think about it all throughout the day. It makes me smile.

So does having all the sand out of here!

Don't miss the House Helper giveaway tomorrow! See you back here then. -Brin

The Hot, Honeyed Hive

My child, eat honey, for it is good, 

and the honeycomb is sweet to the taste.

-Proverbs 24:13

This is a hive inspection weekend. Time to check on these brilliant, never-resting girls.

It was a sweltering 100 degrees yesterday. Too hot and humid to be taking apart a hive of overheated bees, really. But it was past time to check the honey flow and install a feeder in my hive so the bees can make enough honey for winter. So I stuffed my sweaty self into my bee suit, a pair of thick cowhide gloves, and a veil, and went out to the hive. (My Dad came, too, and he took the next few pictures of me working my hive. Thanks, Dad.)

Before getting up to the hive I heard it: that strained- yet somehow contented- hum of thousands of bees. If you've never heard that sound, you need to. You need to. Your soul can feel it, and it's baffling how calming it is. In spite of the therapeutic hum, though, I found them "bearded" on the front of the hive, trying to cool down and regulate the temperature inside their hot, honeyed hive.

I feel you, girls. I feel you.

 Holding hundreds of bees. Don't sneeze!

As hot as we all were, I was eager to take a look inside. With the first frame removed, I had room to lift each heavy, buzzing frame and inspect both sides. In these frames, the bees are putting honey alongside sealed brood that will, in several days, be young worker bees.

Did you know that worker bees are all female, and these girls only live a few weeks during the summer? (They live longer in the winter when there's no honey flow.) They literally work themselves to death. Scientists say it takes around 1,152 of these brilliant beauties to make 16 ounces of honey.

And making honey they are! Take a look at this honey they've capped off below:

Perfection!

It was a great inspection and everything looked ideal: obvious signs of the queen staying busy, no pests, and lots of brood and honey in various stages. I mean, take a look at this golden gorgeousness!:

Keeping bees is such a dream come true. 

I am eagerly awaiting the days of selling honey and wax-based goods at my local farmer's market and online in my little shop, Balm and Honey. Cannot wait. Agh! For now, I'm stocking the shop with my favorite handknit cloths. I'll be listing some 20+ cloths in the next few days! For a little handknit sweetness in your house, too, enter SWEETSUMMER15 at checkout for 15% off your order. Just my little way of saying thank you for sticking around.

Check back Tuesday for a handknit House Helper give away and an update on the house. Until then, hope you have a sweet weekend, despite the heat. -Brin

The Insan(d)ity Of It All

I swore I would never do this again. Never, ever, I said. Do you remember it?

We discussed it, fleetingly, a dozen or so times: should we re-do the hardwood floors now, or wait? I'd settled firmly in the WAIT camp; others were for going ahead. You have no idea what a nightmare the process is, I told him. Nightmare.

He made the executive decision to go ahead, so we did. It is easier, after all, to get it done before the furniture crowds the place. So the sanding commenced.

First, we had to remove four layers of linoleum in the kitchen floor. And then, glue. Glue everywhere. We scraped and sanded and scraped and sanded. We used shovels and scrapers and fingernails and hammers and drum sanders and hand sanders...

On Sunday, I stood in the dining room, tears streaming down my dusty face, and yelled for 10 straight minutes that I hated every minute of it. Hated it. I think I said the word "hate" 200 times. I was so angry and dirty and tired. It wasn't pretty, you guys.

Two and a half days into the process, someone's stomach got upset and he retired to the air mattress for the day while I hand-stained, on hands and knees, the entire floor. The next day, when he returned to work, I began sealing it. And look! Look at that same kitchen floor now:

Unbelievable. I still look at these pictures in amazement. Hard to believe those original hardwoods were under there the entire time... and in such good condition!

I applied four coats of polyurethane to the three large rooms and prayed (Tuesday) that it would be enough. Now that the obligatory 24 hour dry time is up, it's obvious that four coats won't be enough for the parquet floors in the front and the dining room. Y'all. Instead of moving in these rooms this weekend, it looks as if we'll still be applying poly and waiting for it to dry. I'm disappointed, but determined to keep my chin up.

In light of the news, I feel such an urgency to get this place liveable. Such an urgency. But it will get done, and it will be worth it, the insan(d)ity of it all. Won't it? Please nod. Yes. Yes, it will.

We'll get through this, y'all. We will. We're all going to get through this.

Hang in, and happy July 4th. May God's mercy triumph over His judgment in America this Independence Day. -Brin

Dressing Room Dreaming, Or: How To Dress A Room

What is it about imagining... or re-imagining... the spaces in our homes that excites us? I think, for me, it's the allure of realized possibilities. There's something so fulfilling about seeing a room in my mind and then later walking into that room with my feet. You know, after all the planning and dreaming and working.

I've had so much fun these last few weeks thinking up uses and decor for high-ceiling rooms in this house. Hours have ticked by as I've sat online browsing, pinning, and shopping. What could be more fun, right? So I was thrilled when Chairish.com reached out and asked me to take part in their Mix n Match Design Challenge, Shabby Chic Style. The goal: to pull from Chairish's drool-worthy Shabby Chic offerings and put together a room that shines.

I'm not sure about you, but lately I've had dressing rooms on my mind. These days, we're in such a rush to get out the door that I think we've lost the essential (and calming) ritual of dressing with care. We no longer have beautifully laid out dressing tables, we have tangled straighter cords and jumbled makeup bags. And who here puts perfume on in the car? Yeah. I say it's time for a dressing room/ dressing area / dressing closet revival.

Here's my dream: a small space with a glittering chandelier and a tall antique mirror. I want a rug I can paint my nails on and somewhere comfy to sit as I pull off my heels. I'd love a big dresser for organizing underthings and a wide bowl on top for jewelry. And to top it off, I want great lighting, some fluffy pillows, and a silver dressing set like my Great Grandmother, Mary, used to have. So after a few moments of dream-and-click on Chairish, this room presented itself. I give you, the dressing room:

Oh, but there are so many gorgeous spaces you could create with a little paint and some gorgeous Chairish items! Here's what I loved instantly:

1. Maria Theresa 24 Light Chandelier

2. Vintage Parisian Style Floor Lamp

3. Sterling Silver 9-Piece Dresser Set

4. Lorenzo Zig Zag Cream Pillow

5. Burlap Pillow- Lady with the Ermine

6. Vintage French Settee

7. French Country Dresser

8. Gilded Baroque-Style Mirror

9. White Carved Divot Bowl

10. Oushak Rug

The older I get, the more I find myself being absolutely fearless when it comes to incorporating different styles, periods, and colors/textures in my rooms. Fearless. For example, above I mixed vintage pieces with modern accessories. I put a resin bowl on a French dresser and a European shabby chic settee over an Oushak rug. The key to dressing our rooms is simple: go with what speaks to you. Pay attention to scale, color, and texture, and only bring home what you love. In the end, the mix-match of a space is what makes it home anyway. It's what speaks to who you are and where you've been.

All this room/home talk reminds me: I have to get back to work. The hardwoods get refinished tomorrow! I'd like to thank Chairish for the opportunity to participate in the Design Challenge, and each of you for hanging in with me during this chaotic move in. Here's to all of us as we dream up beautiful spaces and create homes that shine! -Brin

The Study

A good library will never be too neat, or too dusty, 

because somebody will always be in it, taking books off the shelves

and staying up late reading them.

-Lemony Snicket, Horseradish

Works continues, morning and evening. It never stops. I don't either, usually, until late evening, when all I want to do is take a cold shower to knock off the dirt and grime and sweat before falling between cool sheets and sleeping beside the roar of a fan.

Ah, summer in Texas in an old house.

Big progress has been made this week in the Study, where dark, moody, gray/green paint has been rolled onto walls and woodwork has been sanded. (The picture above is after the paint but just before the sanding.) It's a race to get it all done before we bring in the giant floor sanders this weekend and prepare for the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. I can't wait.

I told a friend yesterday that, in lieu of a vacation, all I want to do this summer is read. Just... read. Curl up in a huge chair with a glass of something cold and read until it's too dark to see. I want to stay in this new room and take books off shelves until late. I want to be the somebody that's in it and messing it up and keeping the dust away. Summer for me, as a child, always meant a few things: endless reading, ice cream or fresh melon, and the sound of cicadas. And the occasional trip to the lake to swim. My hope is that after the Fourth of July weekend, the house will be ready "enough" for us to move in some furniture and let the reading and ice cream and listening to the cicadas' song begin.

It's a lofty goal, but we're getting there.

In the meantime, I've started making decisions about the kitchen and rolling Westhighland White by Sherwin-Williams on the walls. It looks so much more clean and airy in there now. After the floor is sanded and sealed this weekend, it'll be time for base cabinets, a sink, and the appliances. It can't come soon enough! 

Speaking of decisions, I've been thinking about finding glass cabinet pulls for the drawers and doors to match the originals that survived elsewhere in the house. Every single door here has the original glass knob and skeleton key locks. The hutch has its original glass pulls. So does the bathroom cabinet. The hardware on the cabinets we had to replace weren't original; someone had attached cheap, retro-looking pulls at some point. They weren't worth saving. So... glass again? I'm thinking it over....

So there's a quick update and here's a promise: once things calm down next week, we'll go back and go over this, slowly, and tell more stories.

Until then, happy start to your summer! -Brin

The Ruins We Toil To Rear

Our works decay and disappear

but God's gentlest works stay looking down

on the ruins we toil to rear.

-Walter Smith

 

In researching this old place, I recently came across this aerial photo. It's undated, but I can tell it's from several years back: trees are smaller or stand in places they no longer stand... the house is a different color... landscaping is different. I intend to show this photo to longtime neighbors and get their best guesses on the year it was taken. But look! The path! There it is, uncovered. I'm glad, for some reason, that we found the path before the photo. The discovery is half the fun.

Speaking of fun discoveries, a worker found an old, beautifully written pie recipe in the kitchen wall. I intend to frame and display it. The recipe was found as we removed the kitchen cabinets and gutted the room to reveal the original floor plan (and original hardwood plank floor!). That 3 AM leak the night before we moved in uncovered a history of water damage, corroded pipes, and compromised lower cabinets. As it turns out, some were rotted. Others were nailed shut. One had a petrified rat in the back. (I wasn't in the room for that one, but I heard the grown man scream when he found it. Ugh. It makes me shudder even now.) We stood and discussed only for as long as it took to determine that most of the cabinets would need to be rebuilt or reinforced, and at that, I made the call to pull them. We saved what we could for other areas/projects.

As disconcerting as it was at first, the total kitchen gut has made me excited about the prospect of incorporating an attic find into the rebuilt/restored kitchen. While snooping around upstairs, we found heavy, carved wooden pieces. Huge. Heavy. The carvings and shape match the original carved pieces of molding above the front door and that hutch built into the corner of the dining room. I'm excited to discover their original purpose (window cornices, maybe?) and find a place for them in the house once again. 

I'm still working in the library/study today, and hope to have the painting finished tomorrow. I'll show you soon. Ah, the ruins we toil to rear. For as long as ever, I've wanted a dark, brooding, leather and book sitting room/library to curl up and read in... or to send the men off to once dinner is over and the women want to chat in private. This little room off the dining room is perfect for both. Pictures tell me that the room hasn't been used as a bedroom, at least not in recent days, and the previous owners used it for storage. I can't wait to see it become usable living space again, especially as a European-looking study!

I need to stop typing and start painting. Guess I'll get back on the ladder now. Enjoy your day, and we'll talk soon.  -Brin

The Stone Path

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate
And though I oft have passed them by
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

-J. R. R. Tolkien

We have discovered a stone path.

It seems obvious now, being cleared and all. But two weeks ago it wasn't. I was headed back to the house from the little shop when suddenly, I saw them: the corners of two square stones, touching as if they meant to. I thought it was odd... why would there be two half-sunk stones in the middle of a yard?

Ah. But there weren't just two, there were hundreds. The path is cleared now. How long has it been, I wonder, since it last was?

My sister came for a visit yesterday and was astonished to see it. When did y'all have the time to lay this? she asked. I smiled. We walked it from the corner of the shop all the way to the steps of the long, glassed-in sun room and inside.

I have plans for three small gardens here: an ivy + rose garden with a gazebo on the north side, a vegetable garden on the east/south, and herbs and trailing things in beds and corners all around. This past weekend, some chives, mint, sage and homemade butter-colored lantanas went into the ground next to the steps off the path. They're flanked by butterfly bushes. I'll wait and see how they fill in and then edit from there.

As you may have heard, Tropical Storm Bill is lumbering through. It's raining now- hard- onto ground that was at saturation point weeks ago. This is stranger than any summer I remember. After the rain clears and the heat lets up, we will begin garden plans in earnest.

Until then, we wait.

I'm painting the library/study today and am so wishing it was already done so I could curl up in there and read until dozing off. For now, the lamp light is cozy and rain drums at the windows...

From my rain-soaked path to you, take care today.  -Brin

The Front Room and the Dining Room ... and This House Hates Paint

As promised, some pictures.

(Hello. Hello there, you. Doing well? Hope so.)

I won't show you the "before" of the Front Room yet. Maybe ever. I don't know. There's something about the picture that troubles me in a way I can't put my finger on. Most of the time, the glory of home renovation is showing the pathetic "before" and dramatically unveiling the "after". I think, instead, I will show you a Then and a Now. How's that for a beginning?

So here we are. The Then. This is standing in the Dining Room and looking into the Front Room. Notice, if you will, the original oak parquet floors. The built in hutch in the corner of the Dining Room. The massive, multi-paned windows that leak in sunlight and, at night, a hazy glow from the old gas-turned-electric street lamp out front. Notice, too, the definitive 10 foot, 5 inch ceilings and the tall baseboards with bottom trim removed. And I suppose you can't help but notice the GE Artistry stove still in its box awaiting its turn to be part of the kitchen renovation.

Much more on that later.

Now, here we are in the Front Room, looking north toward the old fireplace and the 6-foot tall, thick-as-winter-lake-ice mirror:

The whole place has had to be coated with a thick glossing of Kilz. As in, we're 12 gallons in so far. The previous owners smoked. By smoked, I don't mean they lit one after dinner and walked the house, trailing ash. I mean, they didn't have jobs and did nothing but sit inside and light up, pack after pack. (This is via the neighbor, Miss Nelle. I have to introduce you to her soon.) The first week, all I did was wash: walls, floors, windows, bathrooms. I mixed vinegar and Dawn and watched the nicotine come down in heavy brown streaks. The gunk coated every knob, every floor board, every ceiling fan pull, every window. We haven't moved in hardly any furniture yet, and what we have moved in is mostly boxed or shrouded in plastic. 

But anyway. The Front Room. Here's a closer-up of the the woodwork, the built-ins with the two shelves that refused to budge, and the mirror, all taped up and ready to paint:

 

And let's talk a moment about paint. Oh yes. Let's.

You know how one usually picks paint? You see a color you like (maybe on Pinterest or in a magazine or on a movie or a friend's house), you find a paint swatch or the paint's name, and you go to the store and have it mixed and come home and paint your walls and enjoy it for years.

Ha. Yes. No.

This house HATES paint. It tries to turn everything putty gray. Or purple. Must be the light?

Here are the paint colors I tried:

Revere Pewter (too dark)

Eider White (too pink?)

Glacier White (too stark)

Big Chill (too chilly)

Accessible Beige (really? too blah)

and finally, Incredible White, which I bought 5 gallons of, left with the guys who were painting, and went to the landfill to single-handedly unload a truck load full of disgusting-ness left in the home when we got the key, only to return 3 hours later to find the walls painted VIOLET.

Incredible White? Incredible lavender, more like it. I ran back to Sherwin Williams and grabbed Neutral Ground and ran it back to the painters and swore that even if it came out electric pink, it was staying on the walls because I coudn't spend a single dollar more on paint for the house to reject.

  

So. The trim and woodwork are painted Westhighland White, and the walls are painted Neutral Ground by Sherwin Williams. So far I love the way the paint looks in the Dining Room when the newly-wired lights are on. During the day with only natural light, it still looks a little pinkish/gray putty to me. But it's staying up. Once furniture, rugs, books, pictures, flowers, and dogs are in the room, it's going to look just right. It will. It just will. Here it is (sort of), as it stands now. Except now I've Kilz'd that awful mosaic thing in front of the fireplace opening on the floor until we can get around to tiling it. Looking forward to that!

Next on the list is the floors. We're going to refinish them in the front three rooms this weekend. They are coated with a film of nicotine, and they were heavily scratched when the folks moved out. More on floor refinishing this week!

So there's a quick run around the front two spaces. Please forgive my mood. I just opened a can of Tea Chest paint to paint the study, and guess what? The house HATES it.

As soon as I put on my shoes, I'm headed back to Sherwin Williams. They seriously know me there now.

Comments? Suggestions? I'm all ears! -Brin

Beginning

The beginning is the most important part of the work.

-Plato

So I'm here. I'm here at the new house. It's surreal. I wander down the crooked hallway and through wavy-glass windowed rooms and can hardly believe it. I'm in the new house.

Thank you for your patience these past days as we moved and began the staggering task of... beginning. The most important part of the work. I appreciate you standing by and apologize for the time away.

We moved later than we anticipated, mostly due to the owner not getting herself moved in time. She called me at 1:30AM the night after she was supposed to be out and wailed about a leak in the kitchen and water everywhere. And so it began. We got here the first morning to a puddle standing in the kitchen floor, an air conditioning system that wouldn't work, and several other wonky things- a shattered glass door knob that sliced my hand open, a seeping toilet that soaked hardwood floors, a kitchen faucet that wouldn't give up any water. Needless to say, the first week I managed 5 separate repairmen- plumber, electrician, AC guy, handyman and a painting crew. Oh. And the yard man who goes by Yard Dawg. I think his name is Gene, but everyone calls him the Yard Dawg.

Oh yes. We'll get to all that later.

Since it was so warm and chaotic inside, I kept myself outside as much as possible. There are at least 100 projects out here to tackle anyway. The first thing I focused on was the tangled, listless front flower bed. I'll show you that soon. The second eyesore that begged my attention was the the little shop building at the back of the property.

Above is how the previous owner left it. Here's how it stood after being mostly cleared and ready for makeover:

I think it took me 5 hours, 7 contractor bags, and several wheelbarrow trips to remove all that mess. But look at her now! This little shop will be part my potting shed and part of the wood shop. (It's bigger than it looks- maybe 15' x 20'?) Now I just need some inspiration- what do you see on or along this broad wall? Please do share.

During the excavation of the shop grounds and after a visit from Yard Dawg, I also discovered a stone path. It leads from this west corner of the shop up to the door off the sun porch into the kitchen. I love it. Must show you that soon, as well. You can glimpse a peek in the corner of these photos.

Despite all the mini-emergencies of Dreaded Moving Week, I felt that old familiar feeling again: that house affection that plants itself in your soul and scatters its seed to every part of you. I'm in now, y'all. It's here. It's beginning.

Hope you're ready for this new adventure. 

Have a great weekend, and we'll talk much next week, Lord willing. -Brin

Close!

We get the keys tomorrow. Tomorrow! 

I am still.packing. But glory! This move has given me a reason to let go of so many things I was holding onto. Things. Just...stuff. I took pictures of some things, hurried and drove some things to Salvation Army before I could change my mind, and sold other things. An acquaintance messaged me today on Facebook and asked if I was okay. "I saw you selling some signs you used at your wedding," she said. "Is everything okay?" 

Yes. Everything is okay. Just wanting to start clean and necessary in this new, old place. 

Have you seen Texas in the news? It's bad, y'all. Please pray. I moved for hours in the rain last weekend and was so frustrated by the end of it. Everything got wet. Quilts I had washed and carefully dried. Linens I had packed with dryer sheets to keep them fresh. As frustrated as I was, I couldn't let myself dwell because there are still families missing and presumed dead from the flood. Still. And there's rain every day in the 10 day forecast. We appreciate your prayers more than you know. 

Since we'll be moving in the rest of the week/weekend and the Internet doesn't get turned on until Monday, my posts may be short or sporadic. Hang in with me! There's so much more to come.... -Brin

Loading Up Weekend...

...is here! I've been too busy to turn around except for getting boxes closer to the front door... and getting my hair under the water in the shower.

While I've sold and donated so.much.stuff this move, the crap I keep just seems to come at me in waves. Books are packed for the new library room. China and fancy dishes are packed for the built-in hutch in the dining room. Pictures are packed for those alcoves in the front room. Everything else is piled and (somewhat) organized all over the house, waiting for me to approach with box and tape.

Agh. I'm not moving again unless they light the place on fire or come to haul us Christians off to jail. *wink*

Hope you have a blessed Memorial Day weekend. See you on the other side! -Brin

House Secrets and Purple Potatoes

My, but the kitchen ignited a fire storm.

I have read every comment and email. It's fun to hear from you- who you are, what you've remodeled (or are living with in hopes of remodeling), what you think about this little kitchen. I think the best advice has been to simply live in the house before changing her. Let the house tell you what it needs, someone said.

Agreed. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I think walls do talk. Have you heard of people who buy old houses and live there and one day decide: I think a doorway should go there, instead of here. And low and behold, the workers come in and discover that the doorway used to be there, after all, and the "new" remodel is actually an uncovering of what was meant for the house in the beginning. Houses are strange that way: if you listen closely, you'll sometimes overhear their secrets.

So we agree: live in the place and get a feel for what's going on. That's the plan. But please, continue voting in the poll if you haven't already. I'm wondering if, in the end, the Yeses will have it.

In the meantime, I'm waist-deep in moving boxes. I spent some time yesterday taking up the gravel fire pit we built in the place we're in now. 

Remember my How I'm Growing Months of Potatoes for $3.99? Yeah. Well, I have my months of potatoes now, and I'm trying to get them out of the ground before next weekend when we have to surrender the keys here. The purple potatoes have been especially fun to dig and discover. Have you ever eaten a purple potato? Delicious! Tonight's dinner will feature roasted purple potatoes with thyme and butter. I'll share the recipe and some photos sometime, promise.

Hope your week is going well. And please, keep those comments and emails coming! -Brin

Simple Like a Strawberry

The sun leaked into my room early this morning and I hit the ground running. Our moving truck is coming Saturday and I have so.much.to.do. As in, freeze-the-ripe-strawberries-whole-and-deal-with-them-later much to do. That's how much.

So instead of writing a devotion here this week, I want to introduce you to a gal I wholeheartedly admire: Abbie Jean. Abbie writes a blog called Simple Like a Strawberry, and it's one of the handful of blogs I read regularly.

Go see her and tell her hello for me, would you? I have to get back to it. See you here tomorrow! -Brin

Polls and Pianos

I was genuinely surprised by the comments and emails I got on yesterday's kitchen post. Keep those cabinets! many of you said. Tear them out and update! others argued. So I decided to put it to a vote. The poll is in the sidebar now: if this were your home, would you  keep the cabinets and existing kitchen layout, or would you renovate? The survey is open through the end of the month, so get your vote in soon!

Lots of folks remarked about a window above the kitchen sink. Not happening. There are two rooms beyond that wall, so a window there isn't an option. Any windows will have to be installed on the south wall. The sink is facing east. It's so dark in that little kitchen now though, isn't it? My tentative plan was to relocate the sink to the south wall where there's currently a door leading to the sun room. That means, of course, that the original cabinets are goners. Ack. So much to decide, and soon!

We're days away from moving in and actually getting a real feel for the place. Today we moved my piano into the house. I wanted, so badly, to sit and play and play and play. Didn't happen, but it will soon! I'm itching to play the piano with the windows open. And bake bread in the (new) oven. And pick peaches from the peach tree. And hang sheets outside to dry. Today it was gray and raining and everything was so green. Sitting on that porch was the most solace I've had in a long time.

Soon.

By the way, I wanted to tell you that we already have honey in the bee hive! Update on that next week. Hope you have a wonderful weekend. Vote in the poll, and I'll see you here Monday! -Brin

Oh HECK no! Or, The 'Before' Kitchen

Oh, my dear friends. Pull up a chair. But...not too close. You don't want to pull up too close. Trust me.

I'm about to show you some current, (read: before) pictures of the kitchen in the new house. 

Seriously, you might want to back up a little farther.

This kitchen is bad. 

Here come the before shots. Are you guys sure about this? Brace yourselves.

The kitchen, as it is currently:

Are you still with me? Are you okay?

Omgosh, y'all. We have a LOT of work to do. "A metric ton", as a visitor put it.

But let's focus first on the positives, shall we?

1. The ceilings are 12 feet tall. 
2. There are hardwood floors under that hideous, filthy and chipped linoleum. (Can we save the hardwoods, though? That's the question. Won't know until we rip up the linoleum.) 
3. The kitchen opens up to a south-facing, antique-glassed sunroom. Which is scary right now. But that just means we can bust out that wall to the right of these cabinets and extend the kitchen. Because right now it is pretty small for this big house. (Sorry. Supposed to be focusing on the positive.)
4. ...
5. It has a good roof over it?
6. Anything can be demo'd.

There. We're on top of this already.

So. First order of business in this house is this terrifying monster of a beast kitchen. I have a new layout in mind, but I'm refusing to commit to anything before we move in.

Well. I did start looking for new appliances that would fit the feel of the house and be stylish, well performing partners in this former bakery owner/certified food manager/cooks-dinner-almost-every-night girl's kitchen. And I settled on GE Artistry appliances. In white. It wasn't even a fair fight. The reviews on these beauties are amazing and they are surprisingly affordable. Win. They'll be delivered the week after we move in, which gives us enough time to introduce a sledge hammer to the kitchen and call a plumber.

I seriously hope you folks really were ready for this, because it's about to be on! -Brin

(Have ideas for the new kitchen? Comment below and link away! I'll consider anything at this point....)