The weather has turned and I’m feeling that need to bundle up just a bit. Not ready for heavy wool jackets really, but an extra layer wouldn’t hurt. So, I ran up to the house today to grab a stack of cozy sweaters. I forgot exactly what was in my sweater stash, (Tall piles of pale neutrals) and what it smelled like (balsam sachets keep the moths at bay)  Does that happen to you? You know, put things away for a season, only to rediscover them later?  It will be like this again next year when I pull out the summer clothes. Until then, I’m breathing deeply; inhale balsam, exhale bliss. (Take a big sip of latte)

Has summer left your world yet? Have you put away your summer frocks in exchange for cozy sweaters?

Main Floor:

Second Floor:

Margaret asked for a paint palette, so of course, I spent way too much time this morning creating our own custom paint chips.  (love you, Marge!) For the record, this is what’s on the agenda RIGHT NOW. I reserve the right to completely wig out and change this thing up. Though, I’ve promised IZ that I’ll stick with whatever decision is made once the paint is bought in gallons and applied to the wall. (I’m never going to live down making him paint our kitchen 5 times to find the right color.)  I’ll list names and sources when I’m absolutely sure this is direction we’re headed.  But this should give you a feeling for the tone we’re attempting to achieve.

Diga adiós amarillo, azul hola! Ya!!

Ann Taintor never fails to elicit the truth. . . or a smile. Her work here.

Go!:

It’s not that we lack news to relate. It’s that I’m struggling how to put into words what needs to be said without putting it in print on the internet. It’s taken me 2 weeks to stop being dumfounded!

Let’s just say, for now anyhow*, that IZ is our new General contractor. He’s doing a bang up job of it, despite the fact that the budget is now 14K lighter than it should have been! He’s lined up amazing people to put our home back together again and the tradespeople we’ve been working with have been so compassionate about our circumstances.

There will be sacrifices. Like the real potential that not everything will be done on our hotel vacate date (10/25). And some of our finishes are, well, maybe not quite what we had imagined going into the process. I’m sure we’ll continue to tally up the damage done to our jobs and businesses by being out of our home for nearly 3 months.

But, y’all have seen the before photos?! It could be cheap vinyl on the floor and be better than what was in the space before! And the upside is that our electrical will no longer be a fire hazard. (say goodbye Knob and Tube) Our plumbing will be legal and, at least theoretically because plumbing has a way of misbehaving, flowing properly. We’ll have a REAL tub in the master bath.

A REAL TUB. And not any tub. . . a gorgeous claw foot thing that is heavier than heck and has to come up a flight of stairs. I’m already wondering what I can do to soften the blow for our construction crew that will have to haul that thing up to the top floor. Cupcakes? Latte runs? Vodka? Ok, maybe not the vodka!

So, this is it. The plumber arrives tomorrow morning. The electrician is scheduled for Wednesday. All our finishes are chosen and most are ordered. And now we make a mad dash in the last two weeks to finish a project that started July 1 and promptly stalled for two months. I really shouldn’t be surprised by this, since procrastination is a state of mind this family inhabits. But just the same, I’m bracing myself for all the work to be done in the next two weeks.

Oh, and did I mention I’m changing the color palette of 90% of the house. Uh. . . hang on, it’s about to get BUSY up in here.

* for those of you who have heard part of the story, I’d really appreciate it if we kept the details out of the comments. I’m happy to share our experience off-line, but it’s probably best to keep it there. Thank you!

The photo isn’t blurry; you’ve been drinking. (Sazerac with real Absinthe from the amazing Astoria Coffee House and Bistro.)

Look what arrived in the mail today? Good Mojo! Photo credit and bracelet by the ultra talented Kerri Jones of Ten Things.

When Kerri listed her new line of bracelets few weeks ago I knew I wanted one. It felt like a good omen. The tiny beads remind me of those nuts you put on the end of screws to keep them in place (no you may not read into that any further than the construction metaphor)—and Lord knows I feel like we could use a little Evil Eye protection when it comes to the chaos that is our house. I also knew that with construction budget being squeezed like a proverbial turnip, I had no business just buying one out-right. So, I sent a gushy email and raved like a lunatic and pitched the idea of a trade.

Kerri, being Kerri, just sent me one. Encased in some amazing fabric that I’ll save for another post. I’m wearing it now, and already feel calmer. Call me superstitious. I don’t mind.  I really needed good mail and a bit of equally good mojo. The Universe knew that and apparently, so did Kerri.

(thank you, thank you!!)

Mom Jeans?! Seriously?! *groan*

Now You’ve Gone and Done It

It was bound to happen eventually. But MUST all mom jeans look so, what’s the word, hideous? I get that once you reach a certain age weight begins to accumulate around your middle, unless you’re Heidi Klum. (I hate you Heidi Klum. No, really, I love you. But honestly girl, this “let me pop out babies and look 22″ stuff is so last season!) And that means finding jeans to accommodate your new girth. But seriously, friends, this aging bit is on my last nerve.

And an aside, because I know some of you are not of that certain age and you’re saying in your head, “Oh, that’s never going to happen to me. I will never wear mom jeans.” Bad news, you probably will. I have proof. Go stand in front of a mirror. Who do you see standing there? Heidi Klum?

Anyhow, MY moment has come. I’ve lost some weight. Actually, quite a bit. I’ve not bought jeans in years and one pair of jeans does not a wardrobe make! I had a second pair, and um, blew out the thighs of those ridiculously thin and poorly made denim. My jeans are bagging off me so much I don’t even bother to unzip to pee. Not to mention the serious case of “granddad butt” going on. So, it was time. I just had no idea I’d be walking out of the store with a pair of mid-waisted dark wash mom jeans.

I tried for chic, I honestly did. I can’t explain why  every pair of  not mom jeans I tried on looked ridiculous. I kept looking at myself and thinking, “You’re not fooling anyone.” Besides, do I really need sparkly hearts and roses to decorate my mom ass? I don’t think so.

So, reluctantly (as in after 3 separate and loaded trips to the dressing room) I crossed the aisle to the adult jeans department. Elastic waists? GOD kill me know. Hidden “comfort” bands? Is there no shame? And then I saw them. A pair of mom jeans that promised  to “secretly slim” me.

I’m not sure if they’re actually slimming me. Upon closer inspection the tag doesn’t promise to make me look younger, in fact it reads, “sits higher on the waist.” If that’s not code for “mom jean” what is? It’s official. I’m a woman of a certain age.

And I’m pretty sure it’s no longer a secret.

Note:

I posted this on Facebook this morning. I’m counting it as today’s blog post because I’m sleep depraved. ~~Wende

A Prayer for 4 A.M.

I’ve become somewhat obsessed with the view out our hotel window. Ships coming and going. It’s particularly beautiful (if not a bit eery)  at night, how silent and yet how present these behemoths are floating past our view. And of course, there is an interactive map that lets me spy on the inhabitants of the river. Obsession Information is good, right?

I’m hoping to do a house update tomorrow. You know, fingers crossed. It was on my agenda for today’s blog post—but I was up way past my bedtime into the wee hours of the morning—Ok, just 1:30 am, but I’m geriatric!—sourcing bathtubs and toilets and kitchen cabinets, OH. MY.  So, I’m just a bit too bleary and frankly, drained, to talk about this house project today. However, I’m hopeful we’ll get there tomorrow or Wednesday.

In the meantime, how’s your week shaping up? Any grand adventures planned?

Before:

Miss Sophie on the way to the Groomers. She’s fuzzy and she has no idea what’s in store for her.

AFTER:

Finally! After 4 years of trying, we finally scored a grooming slot at Hammond Groomers. I was excited to get the slot, because there is no way I can groom her here in the hotel. And BONUS! She no longer looks like her mother cut her hair.

Our niece and her new husband cutting cake. How adorable is it, that their wedding cake is actually cupcakes!

Best. Wedding. Ever.

I’m pretty sure that was said a thousand times on Saturday. But it really was perfect. The weather was hot at 4 pm (hello 90’s!), but it cooled quickly after the ceremony to “balmy.” The wedding was held outside at the bride’s parent’s home. They had a huge white tent and gorgeous round tables covered in white cloths with purple accents. Melanie carried lavender roses and hydrangeas…so romantic. The party lasted late into the night—since it was mostly family and close friends.

For me, a great wedding isn’t about decor or flowers or food—though those things help, right? It’s about intention. It was clear that the bride and the groom spent months working on their vows and planning details that would make people feel comfortable. I’ve been to so many weddings where groups of people sat at their own “lunch table” never to mingle. Where it’s clear everyone feels more than a tad awkward? I didn’t make it around to every table, but it felt like people were mingling constantly—getting to know distant cousins or catching up with old friends and I don’t think I saw any wall-flowers hanging on the edges the whole night. It really was an amazing wedding!

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