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....)

Finishings and Startings

We closed on the house. It seemed surreal. There were seven of us around that conference table- talking frantically, shuffling papers back and forth, and checking and double checking lines before we signed. Someone had placed a bowl of Godiva strawberry chocolate squares in the middle of the table before our meeting and there wasn't a single one left when we all stood up. 

Instead of exchanging keys at the end, we exchanged phone numbers. And finally, we got a chance to talk to the seller without the pretense of being yard sale shoppers. In fact, we walked through the house with her and listened to her stories. She explained the attic's two wooden floors, saying that the home had been a two story and, just like Freeman House, had been converted to a one story years ago. She showed me a pipe that needs to be fixed. She unboxed the dining room's original crystal chandelier that someone had taken down long ago. I left so, so eager to move in and tackle all the things she couldn't. It's my house now, after all.

Until then, I'm being an incredible organizer. I am examining every item we own. I'm selling and donating some things. I'm re-framing and re-upholstering and re-staining other things. Today I'm washing every blanket, comforter, and sheet I have and boxing them all. Then, and only then, will I attempt to organize and pack my yarn stash. Omgosh. The yarn stash. 

Good thing there's a wooden floored attic at the new house.

Speaking of yarn, I finished the pillow I was working on a few weeks back. A quick seed stitch and it was done. I couldn't get a good picture with all the dark/stormy weather we've been having- and it looks rather ridiculous here- but you get the idea. I ended up giving it to my Mom on Sunday. She got new furniture and it seemed to fit her house.

So I'm here, washing, packing, selling, and dreaming. We're just two weeks away from the insanity of a new restoration. This week, I'll let you in on the name and the history of the house. I'll show you a few shots inside. Meet me back here?

Let the fun begin! -Brin

A Call to the Hope Bringers

There were storms the past two nights in Texas. Howling, angry storms. They severed limbs from trees and houses from foundations. Sirens sounded and we huddled in halls and bathtubs, listening to the wind and hail and sideways rain. And praying. Always praying.

The wind took all but those few roses above off my rose bushes- roses I intended to make and take to mothers in my life. I was sad as I clipped through the rose wreckage yesterday and stepped over soggy ground littered with thousands of pastel petals. Oh well. There were a few right up against the house that made it. I cut those and put them in a vase with other flowering things and herbs from my garden and drove them to my Mom's. 

But what are a few roses when many lost everything over the weekend? My heart goes out to the people of Van. Homes and schools, destroyed. Bodies, battered and bruised. Hearts, never the same again.

I think it's so important, today and in the coming days, that we don't close down. Give up. Lose heart. That we walk among the shaken things and clip what roses remain and give them to each other. Give them away. Give them all away. Now, unlike ever in our lifetimes, we need people to emerge from storms and riots and darkness and be givers of Light and Hope. 

The Bible talks about days when things will get very dark. When trouble will touch every corner of the planet. When people will have to choose sides and unimaginable things will happen. But it's also clear that during this time, a people will arise: confident, compassionate, and full of faith. I have a friend who works with CRI and he calls these people the Hope Bringers. I love that. Hope Bringers.

Praying that today you feel strengthened in your heart and glimpse hope in the midst of trouble. -Brin

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!

Sweetness

But don't forget, in the meantime, 

that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

-Clarice Lispector

The first strawberries of the season. They stained my hands with their sweetness.

We have a walk through of the house today at noon, and then a busy weekend ahead. I wanted to stop in, though, and wish you a happy Mother's Day. Even if you're a mother-in-waiting or a mother at heart. Have a sweet Sunday. We'll talk next week. Oh, will we ever talk! -Brin

House Hours, Planting Plants... and Pesto

I'm now counting the hours until we close on the house. Hours, instead of weeks and days. It's all so exciting I could hardly sleep last night.

All this moving talk got me thinking: I can finally, actually, really plant my plants soon. As in, free their root-bound selves from their terracotta cages and settle them into their permanent homes... the blueberries, strawberries, flowers and herbs. It's one of the things I'm looking forward to most, I think. Finally, the plants I've been lugging from place to place since Freeman House will have a forever home.

Including the basil. I love basil. I've been growing the same sweet basil from seed from my Freeman House crop every year since I left. It's acclimated now to the scorching, humid area that is northeast Texas, and it does well in pots. But how much better will it be to have as much as I want! Especially for pesto. 

Do you eat pesto? I make it from my own basil and love it spread between thick bread on griddle sandwiches and stirred into salted pasta hot from the pot. My recipe is almost exactly like this one. I'll make huge batches and freeze it in my Pampered Chef herb freezing trays and it's easy and there when I want it. If you haven't ever made your own pesto, I'd encourage you to give it a go this summer!

Okay. Crazy brain. Went from house hours to plants to basil recipes in a few sentences. Please forgive the nervous excitement. We close on the house in hours, y'all. Hours!! -Brin

Home Soon

Home isn't where you're from, 

it's where you find light when all grows dark.

-Pierce Brown, Golden Son

I got these pictures from the home appraiser yesterday, probably because we close Thursday.

We close Thursday. Thursday, I will have a house. A place of light while all grows dark.

It was a long wait, but now it's over. This week, I will have a new home!

There's so much to be done. Just look at the place! Over the weekend, I showed up to the seller's yard sale incognito so we could look the place over again. Our realtors have been adamant about keeping buyer and seller separate, so we listened to them talk about selling the place and moving and the monster king size bed in the master and nodded and murmured sympathetic things. We bought a table saw that was left from the longtime owner. I bought some garden tools. Then we got back in the car, more excited than ever.

The last minute curve ball (and I'm told there always is one) is that the owner requested an additional three weeks after closing to vacate the property. We wanted to say no but couldn't, really. The elderly ladies who are moving are stressed enough as it is, and we were able to negotiate a better price in exchange for allowing them to stay past closing. So we get the keys and access to the house Thursday, but work can't begin until they leave. Or May 31. Whichever comes first.

It's okay. I have so much to do before then, and I'm used to the idea now. Week after Memorial Day. I can wait.

I can't believe the home adventure begins again so soon. I can't wait to take you inside! -Brin

Glorious Light

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace 

at all times and in every way. 

The Lord be with all of you.

-2 Thessalonians 3:16

As the days grow darker, I pray that glorious Light will break through and shine on each of you. I pray light, and life, and rest for you.

That is the prayer in my heart today.

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!