Holiday House Rules

Step one of many.

So, yesterday I hinted about what we were up to all weekend. Yeah. we hit the Ikea. And then we tore up the sunroom. 2012 may not be the year I call a contractor and get a mac-daddy mudroom with built-in benches and cubbies, but it still is year of the mudroom, damnit!

See, I had a flash of inspiration. The big hold up on the sunroom-to-mudroom conversion is the fact that the sunroom is cold. Very cold. So cold that all my plants died this winter. And it has been a very mild winter. You see, it's the windows. They are single pane (who installs single-pane windows? Really??!?!!) Anyway, due to new cars, a not so great visit to the tax man, and, oh, the 2 new water heaters we just got? No money for new windows right now. Yeah, yeah, poor me.

But, it did put a wrinkle in my plans. And then? The flash. Of inspiration. Storm windows! Dude, other people with drafty windows don't call Andersen Renewal and drop 10k. Nooo, they put up storms. Yeah! So we are going to look into that. And maybe blow-in insulation, if that's needed. I'm not sure if it is. I'm going to call for an energy audit to get to the bottom of it.

But, that said, I had hope! Hope that I could have a functioning sunroom this summer (hey, drafty windows don't matter then!) and into next winter. The boot tray will finally have a home! My excitement was uncontainable. Truly. It was infectious too, since I managed to get JWH to agree to go to Ikea and measure stuff and carry stuff. At Ikea we dropped some high-for-Ikea bucks on 2 things: a bench and a wall unit. Both hard wood, no MDF or particleboard, please.

The rest of the stuff we put in this room we had: the light fixture, the hooks, the baskets, the rug. Yeah, it was kind of magical the way it came together. Not that we are done. Nope, I have to hit this place with the paint. And then we have to cut the Flor tiles to make them look like wall-to-wall. And I do need 4 more Flor tiles, oh, and new tiles for the front hall, since I stole those for in here.

Details, details.

We are just 25% done with this space, but I can already see where it's going. And I like it. I mean, really, snowshoes off the floor - what's not to love?

The puppy-tushy hook? Ikea. Got it for the kid. She has her own hook that she can reach. Oh, yes, she is excited! A dork like her mom, she is.

Weekend gettin' it done.

So, this weekend we kind of kicked off a big project. And, like I do, in the middle of that big project I did a little one. See, I went to get a light bulb. And as I dug around and found that I had 5 opened packages of 60 watt bulbs, I thought, "there is a problem here."

And by "here" I meant here:

This is my kitchen closet. I'd call it a "pantry," I guess, if I was from the South or Midwest. But, as a New Englander, I have never had a "pantry" I have just had "kitchen closets."

And it was a steaming mess. The picture above is after I took out a basket of light bulbs and a tangle of extension cords the size of an armchair. So, mid-other-project, I pulled everything out and rearranged. All the light bulbs together now! All the foodstuffs! All the mixer parts! And, there is even room for the coffee delivery that should be coming soon. That is a first - usually it comes and we kind of toss the boxes in there and close the door really quickly. When Erwin comes to clean (the mop bucket and cleaning solutions basket locations did not change - that is where Erwin likes his stuff. Who am I to mess with that?), he probably opens the door and gets whacked in the head with Sumatran Reserve. Not this time, though!

Oh, and the vaccuum is not in the "after" pic. It was in full swing in the other room. We made what could only be described as a "colossal mess" in the sunroom this weekend. Yes, that's a hint!

 

It's been a while...

Since I macked all over some curtains. But these?

Oh, my!

And then, these same pope had the gall to have yet more lovely curtains in their house. These:

By, golly, I think I'm in love. And I think I need to put some grosgrain trim on my guest room curtains. Yes, yes I do. Yellow I think. Yes, I just said yellow. 

And, to continue the love-fest? These people also have done something that I wholeheartedly approve of.

See how they have run their curtains rod the length of the room so that they can push the panels all to between the windows and let all that sun in? It's a wonderfully informal hanging technique that, with the fairly formal panels, just is so fantastically fantastic I can hardly stand it. If I had a wall like that, this is exactly what I would do. Exactly. 

I have found my curtain soul mates. 

(All images from Better Homes nd Gardens)

A Grey by any other name.

Ha. Well, yeah, ha!

So, this takes a bit of telling.

Remember way back when I painted the guest room? I said I'd put swatches on the wall of al the paint colors I had on hand. And I ended up choosing the gray from the family room - the Stonington Gray?

And remember when I put in my Nest thermostat and then had to patch the wall? And how I had a total fail in matching the paint? I first tried the leftover Stonington Gray from the guest room, and when that did not match I assumed it was because it was the newer Aura paint, whereas the family room was basic Benjamin Moore stuff? And then I went and got a new sample pot of Stonington Gray at the store? And that was fail-0-rama, too? 

Okay, you are all caught up now to this past weekend. Whew!

So, onward I marched. And I gave the orders to JWH to take a hunk of drywall from under a picture. Yes. A hunk of drywall. Desperate times, I said to myself. And then I went back to the paint store again and asked the guy to match it. The first (suspiciously very shaky) guy was all, "no way lady, never gonna match." And then for some reason he walked away and the other guy stepped up. Maybe guy number one needed some caffeine? Not.

Anyway, the second guy was a total sleuth, so he scanned my hunk of drywall and dug around the swatchbook and when I told him I had thought it wa s Stonington Gray, he was like, "no, lady, it's Wickham Gray, it's the next chip down on the same page of the fanbook." And he mixed up a pint and tested it, and bang! was he ever right. So I drove home telling myself that the silly old painters must have just got the wrong paint. And totally, totally believed that could happen. Easy to point to the wrong little square, right?

And then I went up to my room all intent on "correcting the official record" on the color in my "Homekeeper's Record Book." 

Ummm.

Yah. So the book, knew it was Wickham Gray all along. So did the blog, if you look here I had it right. But, less than a month later, the total replacement of knowledge had taken effect, see here.

So anyway, 3 trips to the paint store later...

Silly old me, a bear with very little brain am I.

Cute, no, wait...cool.

Okay, so there are a lot of cute kids clothes out there. But what I almost never see are cute clothes for tweens. Places like Olive Juice have great stuff, mind you, but, really, no 13 year old is gonna go for that shit.

Enter IKKS. It's French. French tweens are obviously way cooler, and this young model has more pout than even I do...but still, the looks are great. It's like the American tween style without the glitter and logos, and with pants that fit.

 
  
(images from IKKS)

When the Bun turns 12, we are heading to France to shop. The word "PINK" will never grace her fair behind. Never.

Down to Brass Tacks.

So, yesterday I rambled a bit. Probably offended a few. But, really, let's just repeat, "to each their own," and try to all get along. Oh, and the big lesson? The New York Times flubbed a story. Journalism, man, it's going dooooownhill.

And, let's get back to the point I was trying to make. The Future. The Future Perfect.

I'm wondering how many people are like me, and have the constant vision in their head of how their home will look next. Like, when you walk through your kitchen, do you do a little mental jog through all the improvement ideas you have had, and then have to kind of tell yourself to relax and enjoy where you are now? Or is it just me?

I'm a natural list-maker and arranger of details. It makes me good at my job. And good at things like getting projects done and managing money and all that. For all that good, though, I think I need to back away from the constant need for tweaking. If I'm going to live in this house for a long time, I need to slow it down a bit. I need to sit at the kitchen table once without saying, "oh, yeah, need to order a 3rd orange chair...." I need to see a pendant lamp online and not consider if it's right for the guest room. And I need to just be a little more thoughtful about it all.

Okay? So, 2012 is about small, thoughtful projects. Oh, and fixing the shit that's broke. Not gonna lie and say I have it in me to be laissez faire about broken stuff. And , so, this weekend we got down to the business of fixing stuff. Like the hole in the master bedroom wall, that, ummm, has been there for 6 months. Really.

You know it's been too long when JWH calls your cell phone and says, "I'm going to patch the wall." Huh? Who is this?

But, he meant it. He cut a piece of drywall, and he screwed in a little block of wood for the piece of drywall to lean against. And I got out the mud and tape. I will not lie, I think patching holes in crazy hard. When the folks at Young House Love recently blithely reported that they had patched the holes in their kitchen ceiling... well, for the first time I wondered if maybe they were putting me on and had secretly hired a plaster guy. Because no way is patching a bunch of holes, in a ceiling no less, easy peasy pudding and pie. It's hell. Your arm would hurt for a week from sanding. Your hair would have joint compound in it for days.

But, anyway, we got it done. From this (yeah, that plastics bag and blue tape? That's been our wall for a while now. Very high end. Double points for how the bag actually rattled on very windy days.):

To this:

To this:

And, I guess if you believe the YHL peeps you'd think that was it. But nooooo, that was just the fill-er-up portion of the project. The next day you gotta sand it all smooth. For that step I laid out a piece of paper and taped it to the trim - to keep all the dust I was about to create out of the cracks in the floor. Been to this rodeo before, you see, and dust management is the key.

And sand I did. And then I went over the whole area again with a wide trowel full of joint compound a few more times. Trying to get it all just perfectly flat and level and even. Not. Easy. And then I sanded again. Slowly, carefully, running my fingers along the wall like it was cashmere, feeling for any bumps or divots.

Next week, I paint. I find it very hard to even tell how well I have done until I paint. So, next Saturday I will either be triumphant. Or I will break out the trowel again. Sigh.

But, still, one less thing is broken. Hooray for that!

The Future Perfect.

(photo: sfgirlbybay)

Yeah, if I had a store, that's what I'd call it. Man, maybe I should change my blog name? 

The Future Perfect. 

It's six kinds of awesome. The only negative is that it makes me think of Mrs. Demastrie, my high school Spanish teacher. Since I'm quite bright, I fully blame her for my failure to comprehend the future perfect tense altogether. I mean, I faked it well enough to get A's, since really, what is public school if not wholly masterable by rote memorization?

Oh, don't get me started on the whole public vs. private thing. I'm over it. The NYT claimed that all the foreign ex-pats in NYC were putting their kids in public school. And all the holier than though mommeighs out there chimed in with, "if all you rich snobs out there would just put your time, money and effort into your public school, they'd be better for everyone." Two quick things on that:

1) Foreign ex-pat kids go to public school in NYC because unless you started donating money while gestating, are actively sleeping with the chair of the board of directors, or have offered to buy them a new gymnasium, you simply cannot waltz into town with an 8 year old and expect admission to a NYC private school. 

2) The "time, money and effort" thing. Ummm, separate the money from the time and effort for a sec. Because you know, I have no time and actually want to put very little effort into my kid's education. Really. I do not want to supervise homework (my folks didn't -  why is it the parent's job all of a sudden?), go to potlucks, or sell wrapping paper door to door.  The assumption that all these private school mama's are just chomping at the bit to chair the fall fundraiser? Not. So. 

And the "money" part of it? It's not like the affluent parents are going to drop an offering in the lobby on the way in. And, as I know from firsthand, real-life experience, it's not the affluent folks who protest the hell out of a proposed override to put more money in the school budget. 

So yeah, public schools are in many cases, failing. Yep. In many cases they are not. Mrs. Demastrie? Well, she was a laughably bad teacher. I'm sure she was lauded at her retirement party and all, but the praise was certainly not delivered in Spanish. 

Anyway, The Future Perfect. That was what this was about at one point. Not about public school politics. (See, if I read the NYT before posting I get all worked up. I need to stick to Apartment Therapy and get worked up about etsy, or thrifting, or accent walls.) Ahhh, see how just saying "accent walls" takes us to a soothing place. 

The Future. It's perfect. Let's revisit that tomorrow.

I put these things up at great peril to myself.

For JWH is sure to see it and demand a trip there...

Why is that bad? Because I like the beach. Sand, sun, lazy days. 

But, this year, due to the machinations of a certain member of a certain family who likes thing just her way and seems to be all powerful in that no one ever tells her to shove it where the sun don't shine...well, we ain't going to the beach. So, JWH, fantasize away...

Me? I see that last one and think of mosquitoes. Or spiders. Or bigger.

These treehouses are in the French Alps. And you can go in winter/skis season, too. At least then I'd only have to fear Yetis.

See that last picture? This is where JWH loses all control and picks up the phone to tell me, "I'm in!" If I had only posted the first three he'd leave a comment to that effect. But the promise of heli-skiing, even a semi-vague hint of heli-skiing? Oh, I will hear about this.

(Images from ecotagnes.com)

Pretty things: a Confession.

Honey? I did a little shopping...

SF Girl by Bay has a thing she does where she takes a movie or show and links to currently available clothes that mimic that style. And, well, she was all over Downton Abbey this week, and, well, there was a polka dot top.

You know I have issues with stripes and dots. And it was J.Crew, so really how bad could it be?

(images: J. Crew)

Bad.

I plan to return much of it. Really. Just maybe keep a few things to shine up my wardrobe. I have worn the same skirt for the last three Easters...points for that?

Okay, so I'm back.

Or will really try to be back. Work is a little nutty. Life is a little nutty. Really. Good. Times.

But no need to spread the guilt and blame around like Grub-ex on my sad, sad lawn. I had a boss once who advocated against guilt and blame altogether. Can you imagine? What a great boss! He really was. He was handsome, too. I remember my first interview with him...he was tall and skinny and blond and wearing jeans, no shoes, and a lime green terry-cloth t-shirt. Sounds creepy, I know. But picture a surfer type, from Maine. 

Now I've totally thrown you, and lost my point. But, no, really, he was cute, and nice. And I remember going home to tell my then-boyfriend about him and he was a little not-so-thrilled- to get the download on my hot soon to be boss. But I was like, "Noooo, I'm sure he's gay." 

Wasn't. 

Was best boss ever. (Two thumps of the chest to you, dude, wherever you are now. Actually, I'm FB fiends with your wife, so I kind of know, roughly at least, where you are.)

Anyway.

He taught me: no guilt and no blame. So, I will not feel guilty, nor will I blame my lame blogging of late on the demands of my work or child or life. I will simply tell you that I have been thinking of new things to post. And I have been saving pictures to share, and I have been dreaming of projects to knock your socks off. But...the projects I have been actually doing have kind of stymied me. And they have been dull. Don't believe me? Exhibit A: stymied and dull

This is my living room wall. The Nest thermostat still rocks, and my spackle job is done. But, umm, the paint? Yeah. Seems I have lived these many years thinking my living room was a color called "Stonington Grey." It is not. What is it?

No frggin' idea. 

Stymied. 

Calling a Spade a Spade.

Okay, so late last week, while in the midst of a whirlwind of work and not nearly enough time with the husband or the Bun, I actually attended a little party. A colleague of mine was celebrating 25 years at my company. Now, the young folks, many under 25 themselves altogether, thought this was huge. And, really, it did deserve to be feted...but at my company longevity is like a disease. We are a vortex. People stay 30+ years all the time. There's a whole cohort of peeps who have never worked anywhere but here. Which, to me, is weird. 

But, I digress. This guy with the 25 years is a heckuva guy. So they threw him a little shindig. They even invited his wife and kids, which was really the kind of nice we do not think of most of the time. Watching his teenager son's cool facade belie just the slightest hint of, "hey, my dad's kinda cool, these people think he's funny," was nice. And watching his pre-teen son stand at his elbow and look at him adoringly? Well, that was downright awesome. Oh, and for good measure - his wife was totally hot. I hope I look that good when JWH hits 25 years someplace. 

Sooo, I have digressed on my digression. My point is really that at the party they had printed out banners with all this guys little mottos. In 25 years you get a chance to trot out your favorite lines quite a bit. And one his favorites? "Let's call a spade a spade." 

And so, I'm calling out Suzani fabric. And I'm calling it out as overused. 

What's got me so piqued? It was this Apartment Therapy post. Which was lovely in all other ways, but, as I clicked through the images I noted the Suzani. It was everywhere! In the the designer bedroom, the bohemian-Brooklyn-esqe room, the traditional quest room. I mean really. You have jumped the shark as a trend when you are in more than 30% of the images used to illustrate an entirely different point.

It's like when you started seeing chevron in Easter decorations. Done. Just done. 

via www.apartmenttherapy.com

Be careful, Ikat, I'm also eyeing you. 

Secret Agent Josephine »Free Valentines for you!

via secret-agent-josephine.com

Do you not have your shit together yet? Are you, like me, crazed at work and losing track of the details like, oh, you know... taxes, birthday parties, your blog...

If so, I am here to save the day. Or, more honestly, Josephine is. Among may others, I suppose...if you Google "Free Valentine Printables" you will get many, many hits. Choose according to your whim, I suppose is my main message. My secondary message being that I chose the ones above. A certain 5 year old loves "aminals" and I love me a quick printable that negates the need to go to CVS at lunch.

Lunch? What's that? I hear tale of such things sometimes, but I think it really is urban legend. Everyone has a lovely office mate who brings them salads every day from the Kebab House, right? No? Just me? Well, then call me the luckiest girl alive. 

Except or those girls who actually get to leave their desks, perhaps. Call that my tertiary point: I need to get out of heeeeeereeee.

Loft with a View | Apartment Therapy

via www.apartmenttherapy.com

Call me a total slacker. Or just damned busy at the day job...but I have been off track with posts this week. I promise to get back on it very soon. In the meantime, something about this loft apartment just struck me as so, so charming. Maybe the sunniness? maybe that is seems unobtrusive in the space? 

Dunno, but I liked it. Hope you do, too.

Pretty things from Terrain.

I can't recall who pointed this store out to me, but I kind of like it. I mane, it's a little too rustic-Danish for me in some ways, but a think a little of that vibe could be cool. 

           




          


(all images from Terrain)

Design Seeds®: For All Who Love Color

via design-seeds.com

Okay, okay. You have to check out the Design Seeds website. I mean, I understand color and I have no trouble with matching and whatnot. Its like, um, my job and all. But, still, I find this site compelling. She does the math for you. Say you have a new duvet cover and wonder how you can build a room around it? Bang. Suppose you have a trip planned but only want to bring a carry on so you need a little mini-wardrobe that all mixes and matches? Bang. Suppose you have a rental with ugly counters and you want to tie them in but not accentuate them? Bang.

All you color-challenged people out there no longer have any excuse. Pick a color, pick a palette and go forth and decorate!

 

The results show, part 2.

I posted here about some goodies I got for Christmas. Fully 90% of my gifts were home decor related, it seems. You could practically see my 20 year old nephew's horror from across the room as I opened pillow covers, shams, alarm clocks and baskets. Luckily, he was not around when I popped open this gift from abroad. Might have put him over the edge to see such glee over a flower pot!

 

 

So cool. Really loving the freed up space on the windowsill and with a "water once a month" schedule I truly hope I can keep this pretty alive!

(In case you have not been paying attention, it's a Boskke Sky Planter, in medium.)