Showing posts with label crannies and corners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crannies and corners. Show all posts
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Morning Light
The way it reflects off the Chesapeake in sorbet hues. Making silhouettes of the morning walkers across the neighbor's yard. Working its way south, through dirty windows. Catching bedheads and cluttered corners. Streaming through houseplants. Finally, dancing off the disco ball while the shadows are at their longest before gradually, gradually, shrinking, shrinking.
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Crannies and Corners Two Years In
Last week marked two years in this house. On the day of our two year anniversary, Alamae James slept on the daybed and I had my niece Jettie in a sling on my chest as I tried to take pictures of this house as it is now.
Once I saw the pictures on the computer screen my eyes went straight to the Skylanders that lay abandoned on the ground, saw the pictures hanging askew. I figured I would go back and take new pictures later, pictures that showed my house picked up and styled. For a week it hung in the back of my mind to do that. The problem is, however, that my house is never more picked up. It is never more styled. It is the backdrop for a life well lived. A large cast of characters, both major and minor, cross the threshold and are welcomed to eat at the dining room table I just inherited from my grandparents. They are invited to sink into the chairs given to us by our realtor just before moving in. Nothing is perfect. Nothing is pristine.
There are dozens of things that I want to change in my home at any given moment. Rugs I want to replace. Pieces of furniture I wish I could reupholster. Projects that needed finished. This house as an expression of me and my family has been an art project carried out with a very limited budget. And like most artistic pursuits, there are times when I am completely dissatisfied with the results and there are other times when I am thrilled. The pendulum will likely continue to swing for years and years. The house will grow and evolve with us. Bedrooms will be shuffled. New art hung. Broken things repaired. Quirky old things purchased.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Inspired to be Kind (Look at my Clean House)
I love my house. It certainly isn't perfect, but perfect things are too boring to bother loving anyway. As much as I love going away, I love coming home. Coming home to my house this time was even sweeter than usual because while I was gone, my friend Carrie drove all the way from Pennsylvania (two hours each way) to clean my house. It was beautiful. As soon as I walked in, I could smell the clean. I can't even begin to express how amazing the gift was. All day Sunday, I was able to enjoy the beautiful weather and being back instead of stressing about dirty floors and scummy sinks. The gesture sort of blew my mind, and made me realize how rarely I do things for other people these days. I do a lot for my kids, and I try to do things for my family, but I am definitely getting more than I receive.
It's easy to blame it on four kids, but I don't want to. I want to be a person who finds ways to be more thoughtful and caring. At this stage in my life I probably can't sacrifice 10 hours straight to any particular endeavor like Carrie did, but I can sure as heck do better than I have been. So now I'm on a mission to try to brainstorm ways to be more giving. It feels so good to know that you are loved and cared for. I want to make sure that my people know how much they mean to me. Money is almost in as short of supply as time these days, so I need to be creative, but I'm up for the challenge (I hope).
As a means of immortalizing Carrie's hard work, I went around taking pictures because a house this clean doesn't last long.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
No Budget Nursery
My kids have never had particularly wonderful nurseries. Sena's was the most put together, but back then I wasn't all that interested in home decorating / design, and I didn't really know what to do other than the things found at department stores. I ordered something uninspired and relatively neutral for her room and hung a bunch of artwork my mom gave me. Gus used the same things, but somehow it seemed even less his space. I never loved any of it.
When Arlo was born, we were living in a smaller house than we are now, and we had to findspace where we could. His crib was tucked into Sena's bedroom (although he never slept in it), and his dresser was in the living room, which I promise was less pathetic than it sounds. However, even after we moved when he was six months old, I never really decked out his room because I always figured we would have a fourth child, and Arlo wouldn't be in the teeny, tiny little bedroom long.
Now here we are, standing on the edge of a fourth baby, and this time I actually want to design some sort of baby space. And despite the fact that the room is very small, chances are the baby girl will be in there for a very long time to come since I don't plan on moving, and our house only has four bedrooms. The room needed to be able to easily transition from a baby space into a child space, and it needed to be done on almost no budget. So I found myself robbing Peter to pay Paul. I stole the plants from my classroom at school. I hung one ofthe mirrors my sisters bought me for my bedroom in the baby room instead. I moved a wall hanging that had been in my room to the baby's room since it matched the quilt that had been on the guest bed for the past year. I inherited some Nabsco bird plates from my mom, and shuffled dressers around. I moved a wooden crate from the living room to fill with books. My mom made the curtains and bought the curtain rod (thanks, mom). The only thing I actually bought was a bamboo shade.
I'm not quite sure how I became so dependent on my mom. I am certain that I would get about 1/3 of all house projects done without her help or inspiration. Not only did she make the curtains, as I mentioned, but she also came over and gave the walls and trim a fresh coat of paint and helped me hang everything that requires skill beyond a simple wall hanger. I guess I'm going to have to learn how to do some of these things because some day I might need to help my own children with these sorts of tasks, but for now, I just lean on my mom.
I'm pretty happy about how the new baby's little space turned out, I'll be even happier once she's in it.
When Arlo was born, we were living in a smaller house than we are now, and we had to find
Now here we are, standing on the edge of a fourth baby, and this time I actually want to design some sort of baby space. And despite the fact that the room is very small, chances are the baby girl will be in there for a very long time to come since I don't plan on moving, and our house only has four bedrooms. The room needed to be able to easily transition from a baby space into a child space, and it needed to be done on almost no budget. So I found myself robbing Peter to pay Paul. I stole the plants from my classroom at school. I hung one of
I'm not quite sure how I became so dependent on my mom. I am certain that I would get about 1/3 of all house projects done without her help or inspiration. Not only did she make the curtains, as I mentioned, but she also came over and gave the walls and trim a fresh coat of paint and helped me hang everything that requires skill beyond a simple wall hanger. I guess I'm going to have to learn how to do some of these things because some day I might need to help my own children with these sorts of tasks, but for now, I just lean on my mom.
I'm pretty happy about how the new baby's little space turned out, I'll be even happier once she's in it.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
A Room of Our Own
I'm certain that there is some sort of pseudo-psychology out there that addresses what sort of person you are based on the way you prioritize your home. And if there isn't, there really should be. The people who landscape first are most certainly different from the ones who set up intricate sound systems. And there must be a difference between the people who focus on their kitchens and those who put their efforts into the rec room.
My sisters are bedroom people. It seems to me that all my sisters learned the art of setting up a bedroom from my mother. Their beds are floaty and luxurious. The rooms have the perfect amount of feminine touch without being cloying. They are rooms men can still feel comfortable in, even if the rooms are just a little sweeter and softer. Their bedrooms are beautiful, relaxing, serene.
I did not inherit this bedroom designing skill, or maybe my psychology is just different. Maybe I am not really a bedroom person (I feel like there should be a joke about my husband's disappointment, but I can't quite flesh it out so...) I have fully embraced the idea that bedrooms are supposed to serve very limited, very specific functions: sleep and one other thing.
I have always focused my attention on public spaces-- making my home as welcoming and inviting as I can for guests, even to the point of neglecting the private spaces. I hang my favorite pictures where they will be seen and admired. I vacuum the living room floor at least four times as often as the bedrooms. If I am going to spend money, the money goes towards the people zones: new throw pillows, coffee table books, candles.
My bedroom is the room in the house that always feels the least finished, a hodgepodge of whatever is left, and I'm sort of sick of it. For my birthday I got a dreamy white bedspread and beveled edged mirrors. My parents are buying us antique dressers for Christmas, and I'm ready to replace the plastic mini-blinds that came with the house.
I think the fact that I want to change our bedroom is tied to my own psychology, a desire for a little more private life, a little less public. This pregnancy has begged me for more solitude, more quiet time, more reflection. There have been times I have not felt like myself. My most typical self craves lots of people, lots of energy, lots of conversation. But these days, I'm spending a lot more time tucked away somewhere reading, listening to my children playing together in the yard from an open window. And for the first time, I want to room I share with my husband to be a place I can retreat and relax, rather than just stumble into late at night once all the kids are in bed and all the lights are turned out.
It's not there yet. It is still full of things that don't exactly spark joy. But I'm excited to make it better, make it ours, probably just in time for a new person to invade our sleeping space and constantly dirty our sheets.
My sisters are bedroom people. It seems to me that all my sisters learned the art of setting up a bedroom from my mother. Their beds are floaty and luxurious. The rooms have the perfect amount of feminine touch without being cloying. They are rooms men can still feel comfortable in, even if the rooms are just a little sweeter and softer. Their bedrooms are beautiful, relaxing, serene.
I did not inherit this bedroom designing skill, or maybe my psychology is just different. Maybe I am not really a bedroom person (I feel like there should be a joke about my husband's disappointment, but I can't quite flesh it out so...) I have fully embraced the idea that bedrooms are supposed to serve very limited, very specific functions: sleep and one other thing.
I have always focused my attention on public spaces-- making my home as welcoming and inviting as I can for guests, even to the point of neglecting the private spaces. I hang my favorite pictures where they will be seen and admired. I vacuum the living room floor at least four times as often as the bedrooms. If I am going to spend money, the money goes towards the people zones: new throw pillows, coffee table books, candles.
My bedroom is the room in the house that always feels the least finished, a hodgepodge of whatever is left, and I'm sort of sick of it. For my birthday I got a dreamy white bedspread and beveled edged mirrors. My parents are buying us antique dressers for Christmas, and I'm ready to replace the plastic mini-blinds that came with the house.
I think the fact that I want to change our bedroom is tied to my own psychology, a desire for a little more private life, a little less public. This pregnancy has begged me for more solitude, more quiet time, more reflection. There have been times I have not felt like myself. My most typical self craves lots of people, lots of energy, lots of conversation. But these days, I'm spending a lot more time tucked away somewhere reading, listening to my children playing together in the yard from an open window. And for the first time, I want to room I share with my husband to be a place I can retreat and relax, rather than just stumble into late at night once all the kids are in bed and all the lights are turned out.
It's not there yet. It is still full of things that don't exactly spark joy. But I'm excited to make it better, make it ours, probably just in time for a new person to invade our sleeping space and constantly dirty our sheets.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Corners and Crannies: One Year Here
One year ago yesterday we settled on our house, six months after putting a contract on it. Although there are times that I worry that I might not have the courage to live in an old house, that the sagging floors and old roof coupled with finances too limited to fix each ache and pain, make me too damn nervous.
But I love our house. And I love the projects that we have completed. And mostly I look forward to the days that will bring the completion of more projects.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Inside
Looking through recent photos would make it appear that we are almost never in our house. Life outside the walls is certainly more photogenic, and I am happy to pretend that we spend most of our minutes in the dabbled sunlight of our yard or in the brighter beams of the beach we have come to consider our own.
But our truth is that we spend plenty of time on the inside and these moments are full of just as much goodness as those baptized in fresh air. And I don't want to forget them.
I don't want to forget the hours that Sena spends playing with her dolls and the times that Arlo comes in to join her.
I don't want to forget the way Gus hardly knows how to entertain himself inside without the aid of pixelated images and snacks.
I don't want to forget my littlest boy, asleep asleep on my bed as the afternoon light bursts through, dreaming dreams I will never know about.
But our truth is that we spend plenty of time on the inside and these moments are full of just as much goodness as those baptized in fresh air. And I don't want to forget them.
I don't want to forget the hours that Sena spends playing with her dolls and the times that Arlo comes in to join her.
I don't want to forget the way Gus hardly knows how to entertain himself inside without the aid of pixelated images and snacks.
I don't want to forget my littlest boy, asleep asleep on my bed as the afternoon light bursts through, dreaming dreams I will never know about.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Right Now
I should be cleaning, but Arlo won't let me put him down.
Yesterday I should have been cleaning, but instead I took pictures. Of my house. For no reason.
Pictures of my dirty house.
Even I don't fully understand.
Yesterday I should have been cleaning, but instead I took pictures. Of my house. For no reason.
Pictures of my dirty house.
Even I don't fully understand.
I'm just going to let it be for a few moments more. And then, when I'm good and ready, I will wield my tyrannical powers without regards to my lowly subjects, and force Tom, Gus, and Sena to participate in the much loathed "Ten Minute Family Clean-Up."
It is my favorite.
It's amazing how much four people can do in ten minutes. Usually I keep going after the timer sounds, after finally finding some motivation.
Full disclosure: During a recent Ten Minute Family Clean-Up, I, the ruler of all, was found texting with a friend in the corner. They were none too pleased.