*Lyrics from Neptune City by Nicole Atkins. I heard this song on Pandora the other day and really liked her voice. Not sure how I feel about her more recent album yet, but I can confirm that her voice is attractive to me. Have a listen and let me know what you think.
DURING: Our plan is to redo the railings to match the other side of the house, use cedar to wrap all the pressure treated (i.e., ugly) lumber, and to replace the storm door that pretty much failed after our kitchen renovation.
Yeah, so, yeah. I’m a crap blogger. I mean, I hope you like what I post when I get around to it. But, I’ve been pretty unable to keep up lately. I have (what must be) a hundred half-finished projects sitting around the house, ones that I’m hopeful will be worth posting (I’m taking pictures as I go, but nothing is ready to share), but for now you’ll have to settle for some progress pictures of half done-i-tude.
Instead there was hot pink flashes in the sky…*
published on by
*Lyrics from Lemonade by CocoRosie. They’re a strange group, with a haunting sound and intriguing lyrics. Note to self: investigate them further. Note to readers: please do the same.
Beauty shot: orchid porn.
It has been said (by me) that there is nothing quite like a fresh coat of paint to improve one’s mood, one’s space, or one’s perspective on life (and I especially like it when people call that fresh coat of paint a ‘lick’ of paint – so English, so dreamy). Well, the same could be said for a new shade of blush. Now, I’m not a huge make-up wearer, and we’ve already established that I don’t often wear dry clean only, hang this up right away kind of clothing. But, I do wear make-up (I am a licensed hairdresser after all) frequently enough. Infrequently enough to have a spent tub of blush awaiting replacement for, oh, it’s gotta be at least 6 months. Maybe more.
Time has come for you to see where I’m coming from…*
published on by
*Lyrics from Texture of my Blood from Dillon. A strange little album, with a voice that reminds me of Lykke Li, and melodies that remind me of Fiona Apple and Feist. An interesting listen, and one that I’m still listening to.
Sunset at IKEA harbor. Kidding, it's not IKEA harbor. But we were at IKEA. And that was the view.
Last week my tiny, 4-month-old niece (oh, and her parents, too) moved to California. Boo. Hiss, hiss! Who but the cruelest of the cruel would force me to put ‘visiting California on the regular’ on my to-do list? I’m kidding, of course. Sort of. I lived in California for a brief bit of time during my late and not-so-great 20’s (yes or no the apostrophe here? I can never remember) and while it is undeniably beautiful it’s just not for me (plus, I really, really hate to fly). But, I suppose a visit now and then can’t hurt, right? Give me a few years and I’ll probably be thanking them for moving away (and giving me an excuse to visit warmer climes). But for now it’s just a drag.
It’s only echos in the Valley love…*
published on by
*Lyrics from Feist’s How Come You Never Go There from her latest awesome album, Metals. I recommend a blind purchase on this one, especially if you’re a Feist fan. Which I am. Naturally.
I also spotted this little silver bread basket that I thought might be a nice addition to my office mantle.
We have the best neighbors. Seriously: generous, kind, fun, smart, and just a pleasure to live near. So when we were chit-chatting with them the other day about heading out to help my mom do some grocery shopping and to get some curtain rods they sprang into action offering the exact right color, size and number of rods we were after. Sweet! (The rods were earmarked for giveaway, so we knew we weren’t taking the shirts from their backs, so to speak.) And, since you all know our time together as marrieds is precious, being able to tackle a chore like hanging curtains right away when we got to mom’s place was a huge time saver. (Of course we still ended up spending hours going here and there, fully and completely exhausting my poor mama. But still.) And what a huge difference did the curtains (and rods) make! Makes me want to sew up some curtains tut suite for my own abode.
Curtain rods from generous Erin & Nellie. Curtains from sale department of ZGallerie.
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there…*
published on by
*Lyrics from David Bowie’s Five Years. We’ve officially owned this house for five years, and it feels like that’s how long each project is now taking. My brain hurts. A lot.
AFTER, for reals: beauty shot.
Weekends around here have become mighty precious. Jeff’s work schedule has been non-stop since about September (I’m not actually exaggerating – it might even have been like this since August), with small pockets of time off here and there. And by small pockets I mean a day here, or a few hours there. It’s been hard on both of us, and even harder on the state of the house. With so few hours to spend together who wants to spend it cleaning out the garage, or organizing the stuff in the basement for giveaway, or otherwise finishing projects that are half done all over the place? Jeff did manage to get the week between Christmas and New Year off and we were able to finally tackle some of those half done projects. Like the closet in the master bedroom.
May your New Year dreams come true…*
published on by
*Lyrics from The Christmas Waltz as sung by Nancy Wilson. If you listen to this song in the right mood it’ll make you cry. Or maybe that’s just me.
A few days ago I stopped over at my mom’s house for a visit. As I walked up to her door I noticed she still had her autumnal bunch of purple corn on her front door (how gauche!). She said, ‘yes, yes, I know, I need a wreath.’ I looked around and sure enough everyone had a wreath on their door. (Full disclosure: there were a few doors with shamrocks on them, but I imagine that’s a year-round thing for them.) It seemed as if everyone was getting in the holiday spirit but my mom’s place was lagging behind. Well, that I simply could not abide.
I oughta say no, no, no, at least I can say that I tried…*
published on by
*Lyrics from Baby It’s Cold Outside as sung by Doris Day and Bing Crosby. There is nothing more comforting in winter than cozying up to old black and white movies or listening to old black and white songs.
December is a month loaded with obligations, expectations and often times disappointment. The build-up for the single greatest day of the year (be it Christmas or New Year’s Eve) can often leave people feeling like, “Really? That’s it?” I have been known to feel that way a time or two (or a dozen). It’s only natural to sense the anticipation around you, and to feel the optimism creeping in when thinking about the promise of a brand new year. And, having been raised to celebrate the most basic bits from Christmas (all the non-religious stuff) – the tree, the gift giving, the time with family, the sparkly lights, the hand made crafts – this time of year usually holds a special spot in my heart. I have to admit, however, to not really feeling into it this year.
Long did I waste, long did I sleep…*
published on by
*Lyrics from 1,2,3’s Lonesome Boring Summer off their album New Heaven. They’re my new Local Natives. I’m so grooving on this sound right now. Hope you like them.
Autumn in New England can be spectacularly beautiful – bright, boldly colored leaves drift through the air as the trees molt into their naked winter selves, surrounded by warm sunshine-filled afternoons, followed by chilly evenings and early morning frosts. But it can also teeter toward the depressing… day after day the light slips away, darkening the already dulled landscape not yet illuminated by the cast of white snow that winter usually deposits and leaves there for month after month. Autumn slips into winter almost unnoticed as one holiday (Thanksgiving) is replaced by the almighty holiday of holidays (Christmas). And while I love a good fairy light (or twinkle light, or whatever you want to call them) I also love autumn, including the darkening, the hibernation-like feeling, beckoning a time of reflection and contemplation. Of course gratitude is also a focus of fall – gratitude for family and friends, for the life we lead, for the harvest, for the earth, for the process.
I should be better, but I’m worse…*
published on by
*Lyrics from The Bird and the Bee’s song You’re A Cad from their album Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future. This came up on my genius mix as I was in a frenzy cleaning, organizing and rearranging the whole house.
Who would have ever thunk (that’s right, thunk) that I’d be talking about styling something? Say whaa? I know, I’ve been so focused on the grand schemes of things – the construction, the ergonomics and flow of spaces, general colors and moods – but never have I spent the time to actually tweak tchotchkes into a pleasing arrangement. I guess I have done some “decorating” in the past, and by that I mean displaying holiday ornaments, hanging pictures and plugging in lights… you know, the stuff beyond the furniture arrangements and structural placement of walls, plumbing, electrical, etc. Until now, I’ve barely given it a second thought, except to fully appreciate others’ skill and talents in making stuff seem like something else.
I sat here staring at the same old wall, came back to life just when I got your call…*
published on by
*Lyrics from, well, if you don’t know, I don’t even know if I can talk to you anymore… who ARE you anyway?! Ok, it’s from Peaches & Herb’s hit from 1980, Reunited. I could have gone with this lyric as my title, too: “And you’re exactly what I’m dreaming of all through the day…” Pretty much, save for the love making references, all the lyrics are applicable to this post.
Wow, so let me just first say that I’m tired. I mean, completely tired. Knackered, pooped, walloped, crashed, buried, done, cooked. Like, worrying about falling asleep while driving home tired. Not remembering conversations, not knowing what day it is, let alone what time it is, forgetting to eat, going through the motions of life tired. Getting this condo up and running for my mom has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Like, ever. But so worth it, in the end (she did give birth to me and raise me, after all). And it wouldn’t have been possible without a little help from my friends. And by friends I mean trusty contractors Dave and Jonas of Innovative Construction Solutions (whom I consider actual friends, too, in case you are wondering).