Category Archives: beauty shots

Head down as I watch my feet take turns hitting the ground…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Beyonce’s Smash Into You. I know this song isn’t about running, but it could be. If you weren’t Beyoncé. And you didn’t look uhhh-may-zing in just a leotard and a flowing, chiffon cape. But, again, we’re not Beyoncé, are we?

One of my favorite views on our local running route. Well, our big house local running route. Anyway, I love the dappled sunlight, the houses, the trees, and the mostly flat, long stretch of road.

Several months ago – after a particularly rough year (emotionally) following the loss of our doggie, and succumbing to the default setting that I have that encourages me to eat, drink and try to force myself to feel merry even when I’m sad, lonely, and grieving – I decided to start to try to get back into shape. Just like many of us, I do this every few years, because it often doesn’t stick, or because I allow my emotions to control my eating and exercising habits. This time, though, I wanted it to stick.

Part of my strategy for growing a new routine in my life was to get help. Luckily for me, Jeff was willing to tackle the project of revamping ourselves together. Without his support, and his partnership, I doubt I’d have a shadow of a chance to change my ways. I also made my intentions public to my friends on Facebook, to my family, and to myself. I bought an app for my phone that would help coach me along, and set my goals at really small, incremental (read: realistic) steps that would allow for interruptions – things like traveling, family time, and personal wellness days (ladies, you know what I’m talking about) – to be included in the schedule. I set goals, and together we met them.

read on…

And we are far, far from home, but we’re so happy…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from From Finner by Of Monsters And Men off their album My Head is an Animal. I just heard this right before our trip on spotify, and thought, ‘how have I not heard them before?’ I’m loving the album, and think a purchase is in order. Spotify, you are so good to me.

Before the beach completely filled up, and as people were setting up their gear, I snapped a few pictures that felt like another time.

Ok, so, sorry for the radio silence, but we went on vacation. I had this whole idea that we’d have soooo much time on our hands that I could sneak in a blog post or two. I even drafted a few ideas before we left. Then we left and I forgot all about everything. I forgot about social media, blogging, TV and movies, the house (and stress from having it on the market), and pretty much anything that had to do with our regular life. It was most excellent indeed.

read on…

You know you shouldn’t be there but it’s way past bed…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Good Intent by Kimbra from her album Vows. I was doing as I was told, by spotify, and checking out the latest pop albums. Must do what told. Spotify rules me. Ok, and it’s a catchy album, good voice, interesting melodies and instrumentation. So, there.

House Tour: Master Suite

How many houses from the 1920s can boast a master suite? Ok, probably quite a few at this point, but we think it’s pretty special to have our own private bathroom off our bedroom. It’s almost like its own apartment.

AFTER: New bathroom, refreshed paint, upgraded lighting, and spruced up closets make this place restful, soothing and luxurious.

When we first bought the house, the bathroom adjacent was really the former maid’s bath. The sink was about 28″ off the floor (in other words, back-breakingly low), and the toilet was awkwardly placed next to the smallest shower on earth (I think it was 24″ square). Of course, I never took any before pictures of it (back then it didn’t occur to me to photograph ugly things!). Needless to say, we’ve renovated all of it: the bathroom is 100% new, including heated marble floors, recessed lighting, Starphire glass shower enclosure, and a custom trim package that matches the original 1920s woodwork.

read on…

All this talk of love just turns to noise…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Love Is Greed by Passion Pit from their newly released album Gossamer. I first heard Passion Pit in Boston, during my summer of art, and therefore I will always associate them with my darling roommate, the light and happy mood of summer vacations, and creativity and joy. Good on them for releasing another album in the summer, especially when I’m feeling particularly vacation-y and creative. It’s as if they planned it that way.

House Tour: Family Bath

To continue with the grand tour of the home, let’s take a rest in the restroom. At least, the main one on the second floor. This room has been the trickiest one to photograph since all of the corners are occupied with things like, oh, bathtubs, toilets and cabinetry. But it’s efficient, and feels luxurious even if it isn’t ginormous like modern bathrooms tend to be (I mean, how much room does one really need to get ‘er done?). It’s one of my favorite rooms in the entire house, partly because I put in so much sweat equity into it, and partly because we worked with what we had, and took it from blech to beautiful. read on…

But something’s moving, in places I’d forgotten…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Temporary Love by Missy Higgins off her newest album The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle. I just heard her for the first time this week – her album art totally drew me in – but I like her. Reminds me of Sia, whom I adore. Hey, it can’t all be waxed handlebar mustaches, right? … So, I thought I’d introduce some of the rooms that have had lesser status on the blog, and show you around some more of the spaces of the house that make us love it so much, and will hopefully make you love it, too.

House Tour: Guest Bedroom

Faux bois, meaning fake wood, adds a soft texture to an otherwise neutral palette.

Remember when I sewed curtains for the foyer and landing, even though I’d never even done it before? And remember how I alluded to the fact that I also made a lined pair for the guest room, and teased that I’d share with you the result someday? Well, today is someday. Not only did I have the fabric for those curtains for over two years (I honestly can’t remember if I got the fabric before or after the Great Renovation), but I also had a vision for that space since finding the fabric.

It was a woven faux bois, on sale, in what seemed to be a medium-weight, cottony material in cream and beige (I may have sewn the panels, but a fabric maven I am not). I thought it was perfect for the guest space that I’d been dreaming of: soft lilac walls (flattering to any skin tone), complimented with chocolate browns and beiges, lavenders, peaches and pinks as accents, and plenty of soft white to offset the natural wood tones and textures. I had a vision of a bed-and-breakfast style set-up – what with the sleeping porch just off the room – where weekend visitors could have fresh squeezed orange juice, tea or an individual french press of coffee on a bistro table just outside their bedroom door. The room faces north-east, so morning time activities were the inspiration, and I wanted a space that felt refreshing, peaceful, and welcoming for long slumbers, or early morning starts.

read on…

Petition for a life unknown…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Petition by Tennis from their album Young & Old. I found them, on (you guessed it!) spotify when looking for similar artists to Hospitality. However, be forewarned, there are two bands called Tennis. This one is NOT the hip-hop one, but rather the indie pop one that’s interesting and St. Vincent-esque. They also have an interesting story behind their music. Have a listen or a read and let me know what you think.

Brushstrokes, colors, movement, line weight - all these things were experiments, and things I don't normally get to play around with when doing household painting chores.

Between all the chores we’ve been tackling to get the house ready to be on the market – finishing out the exterior with a freshened up side porch, replaced stairs off the porch, fresh paint and stain on just about everything, new storm doors and lighting – we’ve had barely any time to do anything fun. Just for pleasure. And my body seems permanently crunched into a semi-bent position, complete with crooked hand just waiting to hold a paint brush. Despite needing to complete yet more chores that involved painting (chiefly, interior trim and door painting), I snuck in a few moments here and there to finally complete my very first painting. You know, with paint. Colors. And canvas. Just for fun. Just for me. (Well, ok, for us.)

For the past few weeks we’ve been trying to finish up every lingering project around here so that we can actually relax and enjoy our home (until we sell it, of course). It’s summer, after all, and we need to have some hammock time. And badminton tournaments. Which are really just exercises in several-minute-long volleys, no points awarded, just laughing, and trying not to twist our ankles. But we realized that we should also complete some of the things we’ve been tinkering on that were just for beauty’s sake, and not for some practical consideration.

read on…

The suffering, the struggling, I did it for you, I did it for me…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Cubism Dream by Local Natives. It’s no secret that I love this group, even though Jeff warns me not to look at them if I ever see them live – apparently they’re hipsters with a capital H. Little does he know, I don’t care (bring on the waxed, handle-bar mustaches!). I love that album, and love it still every time I hear it. This song feels like love and sadness and nostalgia and tenderness mixed together, which is pretty much what touching love feels like. Which is pretty much what I feel for my little niece, touching love.

BEFORE: Color notwithstanding, I could see the cuteness in the piece. Plus, it was smaller than an adult sized desk, as many older pieces are. Perfect for my 9-year old niece.

Last year, driving innocently by a yard sale (that I swear I didn’t know was going to be there) I spotted a weird but cute vanity/desk in a gross shade of green. I kept driving, but thought about it for the rest of the afternoon. Later on, I convinced Jeff to drive by with me, just to see if it was still there. If it was, I told him, I’m buying it. He said, what for? I said, not for me, for [my niece]! She needs a desk! He said, okay. So I got it, for $20. Not bad, eh?

read on…

Summer sangria*

published on by kati

*Instead of cupcake monthly, that my waistline wouldn’t let me actually keep up with, please enjoy this first official installment of Kitchen Monthly. Though I doubt it’ll be monthly. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?

To quote my niece: “Holy god, that looks good.”

One of my favorite things to drink in the summer is a fruity, chilled, and slightly sweet sangria. I first tried my hand as making sangria a few years ago after watching a bit too much Rachael Ray. From her I learned that you should usually have a citrus, a stone fruit (peach, plum, etc.), and a seed fruit (apple, pear, etc.). That combination has stayed with me, and I’ve been tinkering on versions ever since. The last one I made was by far my favorite one I’ve ever made, so I thought I should share my basic recipe.

Summer Sangria

1 btl dry rosé

1 lime, sliced into thin disks, then halved

15-20 cherries, pitted and halved

half packet raspberries (about 3 to 4 oz.), fresh (not frozen)

2 peaches, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup dark rum, whatever brand you prefer

1/4 cup brandy, best quality you can afford

1 can fruit-juice sweetened spritzer (I like Knudsen’s brand) in strawberry

Ice, as much as you like

read on…

And then, we can, do anything, we want…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from something Anything We Want by Fiona Apple off her latest album. Only her fourth album in 16 years, I think it’s worth a listen. She’s an actual musical artist (unlike so many in the business of making and selling music), and you might like her work. Or you might not. I do. 

BEFORE: Recently, we took some exterior photos while the peonies were still in bloom. The side fence was then just raw, untreated wood left in its natural, weathered state.

Months ago, when we had our side porch and rear porch stairs redone it was too cold outside to finish coating the decking and new railings with exterior paint and stain. So we waited for the weather to warm up. Which it did. But then it rained. Like, a lot. For weeks and weeks, every time it would just about get dry enough to do something outside it would rain again. For enough days to warrant a dry-out period. So we waited. And waited some more.

read on…

and just what they didn’t get, those beautiful babies…*

published on by kati

*Lyrics from Lost Together by Frazey Ford from her album Obadiah. (The album is amazing, as I’ve mentioned before.) This song reminds me of my own childhood, my own feelings about my parents’ split, and my mother’s awakening that sadly began in the ashes of the divorce. Every now and then I am struck with the need to write about something other than design, decor and home-related stuff. This is one of those times.

A pretty image, balanced with enough coral to make the green greener, and enough green to make the coral glow.

I’m not a mother. Nor have I any intention of becoming one. Steps have been taken to ensure that that doesn’t happen, that’s how serious I am. I don’t even really like children (though of course I love all my nieces, and my god-less-son, and generally enjoy all my friends’ kids), and pretty much hated being a kid. I’m sorry, parents, your children aren’t really that cute to everyone else. I’m glad you love them, though. Truly, I am.

But I know tons of women who are mothers. Practically everyone I know outside of my family seems to either want kids, or already has them. I’m told it’s a biological urge. If you say so… but I’ve also noticed this trend in women that I find a common, disturbing, and totally understandable side effect: they (you, if you’re a woman and a mother) forget they’re anything but mothers. I can’t count the number of times in my life I’ve been informed by women (never men) how hard it is to be a mother, how all-consuming it is, how it takes over your whole brain (not really making a good sale there, ladies). Motherhood is hard. But, you know what I think is the real hard part? Forgetting you’re a mother.

The parenting bit, yeah, that’s hard. Duh. Thinking of someone else’s needs every hour of the day for years and years? No, thanks. But, it’s during that time – especially if you’re the primary source of food – that the real mind-fucking happens. You have to train yourself to ignore your own needs. Like, constantly. Who in their right minds, no matter how much you love your baby, would submit to feeding them 10 times a day (and diapering equally as often)? I tell you, your brain has to melt to think that’s fun. I mean, sure, 3 or 4 times a day might be sweet, intimate, bonding… but after the 7th time? Yeah, your brain has to simmer, just a little. Couple that with the number of days, weeks, months (years?) that this goes on, and it’s no wonder that women forget they are anything other than mothers.

Fathers, I haven’t forgotten you, but you’re much better at forgetting that you’re fathers. You are proud of your kids, you love them, but you aren’t required to do all that mind-melting, so you don’t (of course, if you’re a primary care-giver and you’re a male your brain has to melt, too – for those fathers out there, I’m sorry). And I suspect some of you mothers out there are jealous, just a little. On the whole, the biology of the event of parenting makes the female responsible for all that forgetting that they’re a person stuff, and the male (in general) gets to go on as things have always been. Maybe just a bit more tired.

So, to you mothers out there, allow me to remind you of one tiny, currently insignificant thing: you’re people, too. Remember in the ’80s when there was that whole ‘kids are people, too‘ campaign? As a kid I was jazzed to be thought of as a whole person who mattered (clues into why my childhood might not have been so fun for me), but I honestly don’t know why that started. Well, we need to have a ‘mothers are people, too’ campaign started. Like, immediately. I know too many of you who have forgotten how to not only assert your own needs, but you’ve also forgotten how to identify them. Beyond the simple, ‘if I don’t pee now I’ll die’ the needs that you ladies have aren’t close to being met.

I can speak about this because I used to have friends. Now I know people who are parents. I am not bitter (ok, maybe a touch, but it’s fleeting), I’m really more concerned. Where do they go? Ladies, where have you gone? All of your interests – beyond crafts and games for kids on rainy days, beyond the miracle that is the learning that your kids all do right on schedule, beyond scrutinizing your children’s poop and telling the world alllll about it – where do your ideas, thoughts, interests go? Not unlike training people to re-matriculate in society after a prison term, I think we should have re-entry classes for women coming to after a particularly harrowing stint on motherhood row. Because you will not let yourself not be a mother ever again. Too busy competing with other mothers for the trophy of best, most well-adjusted, most cared for child on earth (you need to stop that, too, mothers).

I wrote about this because I recently noticed that a number of my friends, who have kids, are currently trying to remember what they were like without kids, before kids. Now, I don’t think that you can (or should) go back to who you were before children. Impossible – you have new humans in your life, new feelings about your place in the world, new responsibilities, new interests. But you must, simply must, be interested in more than your children. Please. Do it for us. We’re interested in more than your children (and, in some cases, we’re not really that interested in your children beyond knowing that they’re healthy and you’re happy). Ladies, spend some time on you. Your kids can wait. You dads can help out a bit more. Your kids can entertain themselves. What about you?

xoxo