There’s a twilight zone

inside

I’m sitting in this porch this morning, amid laundry and legos and one very (half dressed) happy guy.

Building.

Welcome! There’s charm all around this house – french doors with beautiful windows, wood work and hardware.

inside
inside

Yes that is High School Musical 2 on the TV. We like to keep our theatrics PG and Disney in this house.

So, there’s a yard here. Like a real fenced-in yard. With actual grass. Our last place had a “yard” that was the parking lot for all the cars of the tenants. (No grass.)

a yard!

When it’s not raining or the weather outside doesn’t feel like a steam room (humidity much?) we’ve been enjoying this:

Summer 101

Although I don’t have a full garden this year I do have some hardy herbs that stayed alive through the last 12 months. Mint!

mint! portable gardening
mint! portable gardening

But the real charm of this place? The stuff that was left behind. Seriously. I think I could make a living out of finding the purpose in the forgotten.

First, there’s an entire room of storage with shelves. Like a canning persons dream, if I were a canning person. For now I’m just going to basque in the delight of a room with NO REAL PURPOSE that I can put stuff in.

storage

but then there’s this:

utility shop ... also, inspirationutility shop ... also, inspiration

The Workshop? But I see a kitchen island refab and those makeshift shelves on the side?

utility shop ... also, inspiration

Have you not seen Pinterest and it’s glory? THE IDEAS!

I might be asking permission to use a few of these things from the landlords. But as renters in a home and learning how to be a permanent fixture in a temporary situation: I finally have ideas on how to make someone else’s house our home.

Cue: Collective twilight zone hazy lighting yet mental clarity.

It’s about time.

Empty frame

I have an empty white frame hung above my stove. It’s a small frame – I have no idea of the actual dimensions but it’s something like 4X8 or 4X10. It’s a rectangle.
422724912_3e32bbf4c2.jpg
In our first house it was hung in our bathroom and my dad would always make the comment about how much he loved that picture above our toilet every time he used the bathroom. Oh Ha-Ha-Ho-He-Ha!
The glass isn’t even clean, the whole thing is old and you guessed it, I bought it at an antique store. It’s a little shabby chic. When we moved it to this house I kept trying out different places on the walls in different rooms to hang it because it never crossed my mind to not use it. I don’t know why I love this frame. I don’t really stare at it when I’m cooking although I’m sure I must look at it about 12 times in any given day. It’s just there.
But when I do look at it, stare at it consciously – I feel hopeful. Maybe I’d feel hopeful looking in to any empty frame but it feels good to look at something and see nothing.

Total underachiever

I say this with as little conviction and much less enthusiasm as I can only because I know if I get too excited about it and promise you the world, I’ll never deliver …
I’m thinking about starting a little series about things I own – objects and the feelings they evoke.
Such as:
I own an antique milk bottle crate that has never ever been used for something constructive. I’ve always thought I would plant herbs in it and have it near my kitchen for cooking but every time I get it out to plant something I realize how much work it really is to stuff 9 small holes with dirt and liners, so I put it back on the shelf. Right now it resides in our bedroom in one of the very useful and not-in-use cubbies we have in our built-in book shelves. It just sits there, mocking me with all it’s greatness I have yet to unlock.