::My New Gig::

The last few months have been a whirlwind.

Getting settled in a temporary home, working out the kinks in the process of building on the lot next door, and my crazy brain attempting to find something to focus on while we wait for the house to get itself build, gosh-darn-it.

I've felt a bit lost.  Even as we pursue our dreams of building a modest cottage and living closer to town, I've just felt ready to do something new.

14 years of homeschooling can leave a ginormous, gaping emptiness in your day once the kids finally leave.  Since the fall, my two youngest have been attending a small private 'homeschool', run by a friend (who happened to attend their births, how weird is that?), leaving me time to ponder what this season of my life will look like.

House building progress so far: we have a couple sticks.  

I got pretty broody....I mean, when I wasn't pouring over house plans and pinning a ridiculous amount of images on my Pinterest boards.

At one point I got pretty excited about maybe monetizing this blog.  Really going for it, connecting to every social media outlet there is, getting sponsors and advertisers and and and.....

....and I realized I don't enjoy being connected to the computer constantly.  I think it would feel draining to 'have to' keep up on the frenetic pace of all that.  I've decided for now to simplify the blog to keep it a joy.  A happy little spot for me to continue to document my decorating misadventures.  I'd love to get more readers and comments, and I'm working to read more and comment more myself to build community.  That is what drew me to blogging 4 years ago, and is still what motivates this scatterbrain to keep at it.

 Ye olde blogge just got a little freshening up....

But that still left me with time on my hands.  Got broody again.

Started asking myself questions like "so if I could do anything in the world, what would it be right now?"

And I remembered the cute little workshop attached to the garage.  I remembered thinking what a great space I thought it was for painting furniture when we looked at the house, and how convenient it would be once the kids moved in (when our house next door was done) to continue to use it as the rest of the garage would still be plenty big for them and their stuff.

I remembered how I used to lament not having a space to paint in the wintertime...and how the previous owners of this place left 2 space heaters in the workshop.  How it had a separate locking entrance and a window (with security bars that kinda freaked me out....the dude made firearms.  Yikes)

Hey wait a minute.

I love to paint furniture!  I love to thrift!  I think I shall upcycle furniture and peddle it to the masses of Fort Wayne IN!

And I went for it.  With gusto.  In the face of a VERY financially conservative city, with several others trying their hand at it too.

I've had fun organizing my new work space...using old pieces of furniture that don't fit in the house...

I've had my moments of doubt, felt remorse and regret at the money I've already invested, the time I've spent....thinking it should just stay a hobby. Play it safe.

But I believe in Serendipity.  There's been too many of these moments and circumstances for me to ignore the pursuit of this dream. (see HERE) I'm going for it.  I want to be brave and believe I have some talent for this kind of thing, and I'd mega-super-duper LOVE to be paid a fair price for my work.

So I set up a website and a facebook page (Please go 'like' my page, pretty please with little debbie's on top!) to start getting the word out.  I'm looking into a couple unconventional ways to market myself and my pieces locally.  I'm networking, trying to avoid the competitive junk, believing there is room for all of us and money to go around.  I really do believe the right pieces will come my way, and the right buyers will find me.

And I'm also painting.  Learning new mediums, trying new techniques, reviving tried and true methods.  It's kinda hard.  It's kinda discouraging (especially seeing all the a.mazing work others are doing around the internet).  But I'm gonna keep at it. I have to believe I have something to offer the world.  I'm really tired of talking myself out of ideas that have the potential to bring me real joy (and maybe some extra cash!)

So hey.  I think at 46 it's time to start believing in myself.  Time to believe good things can happen.

And now, it's time to clean out some brushes....

::Refining Those Instincts::

What happens when the house you were sure was supposed to be yours ends up being an obvious dud?

(source)

We toured *that house* again on Monday with a contractor and heard all about the issues, mainly lots of water damage, termites (!), and a pool that is non-functioning.  Needs some work on the sewage (ew), gutters, a roof, and perhaps a new garage.

Here's the pooch I mentioned in the previous post.  We let him in, and he grabbed his rawhide bone and happily followed us around the house.  He was fat and at-his-ease...pretty sure he rules the roost)

We walked away feeling satisfied that we gave it the ole' college try, but neither hubs or I felt like going down that road with that house.  The ruined pool pretty much sank the ship.  And I was totally ok with it as I drove away.  It was an interesting part of this journey, and I learned important lessons, honed my instincts more, even thru the ups and downs....the excitement and the disappointments.  I felt relieved when we closed the door on this possibility, knowing there are others out there waiting to be discovered.

Source: hgtv.com via Cindy on Pinterest

See, here's the thing.  I get all excited and see all the possibilities and believe and hope and dream about a new house every week.  I'm wicked good at it.  Hubs is my grounding force, but sometimes he comes off as a wet blanket. We had some frank discussions (ok, we argued) about how I need him to dream with me sometimes instead of trying to protect me from falling from too high when reality hits. 

Maybe that happened years ago (pretty sure it did), but in my midlife, I can disconnect pretty quickly from the hopes and dreams so long as I'm presented with cold, hard facts.  I don't throw too many tantrums over broken house dreams anymore.

Source: brooksandkendra.blogspot.com via Cindy on Pinterest

So we're moving on.  Actually I had already found another property with awesome potential before we even went on Monday.  I think it was my way of having a back-up plan in case things don't go according to my dreams.  :)

Having passed on *that house*, I again went back to my cottage instincts, our priorities, our wants and needs.  Hubs says our intuition simply pushes us in a direction with no specifics....but our brains engage and take over, assigning specifics that may or may not be where our intuition was leading.  Hmmmmm......

So what if I told you now we're looking at a property that would give me both old and new for even less than *that house*?

Tomorrow we'll check out a one acre property in the city that includes that cape cottage up thar on half and an empty lot on the other where a home had previously lived.  Not sure if it burned down or what, but an empty lot with trees is an empty lot with trees.  And a driveway :)

My brain says, live in the cutie-patootie cape cod and build something smallish next door.  Then rent or sell the cape to our kids.  Way out there, yeah?  I'd get to enjoy the character of the cape, help the kids make it theirs after ours was built, but mosey on next door to my new house with lots of windows and my soaking tub :)

Source: bhg.com via Cindy on Pinterest

But there's potential....that's how my brain works.  I believe the impossible until it proves it ain't possible.  And so many things would have fall in line for this property to work out.  I'm not going into this completely blind to the improbabilities, but I don't let them squash the hope in possibilities.

Just for funsies, we'll be looking at 4 other newly built homes, one that is $100K more than that cute little cottage up there.  I need to step inside and 'feel' them too.  It would give me an idea how 'new' strikes my instincts.

But hold up. I thought my intuition said building wasn't our style.  Upon further digging, (and seeing the reality of an older home) I think I could live in new OR old....it's just a new neighborhood that cramps my style.  The cottage/lot is not in a neighborhood....no restrictions, no one making sure our lawn is perfect, no association dues.  No Jones to keep up with.

And the lot is deep, but narrow, so it limits the type of home we could build there, meaning smaller, which is fine by me as all the homes along there would qualify as either ranch, cape cod or farmhouse.  I'd build something to blend into the landscape...which means cheaper, by about 50 grand that what we were previously considering.  And yes, I've already found another floorplan that would work....the graph paper has already made it back to front and center on my desk.

Source: southernlivinghouseplans.com via Cindy on Pinterest

I was also reminded how this journey began...but visiting a friend whose new home 'looked' old.  And realizing we could afford it.  Which doesn't mean that's what we will do, just that the idea of building shouldn't be completely abandoned if the right lot/style/price can be found.

Source: pinterest.com via Cindy on Pinterest

So I suppose I'm saying my cottage instincts don't lead me down a path to a particular place...but that they keep me true to what I love.  And oh how I love cottages....beachy, craftsman, farmhouse, capes, both new AND old. I love 'em all.  I'm not gonna get stuck on a certain place thinking it's the 'only one'....like some folks do with spouses.  I believe we become 'the one' after we risk and take a leap.  I'm looking for a home that will support our over arching priorities (not spending the upper limits of our income on housing is the biggest).  I'm looking for the potential that it will BECOME 'the one'.  And for every dream home that falls thru, there are always other fish in the sea, yeah?

Source: aprettylifeinthesuburbs.com via Cindy on Pinterest

Mumford & Sons is my favorite band right now (my brother happens to be their booking agent).  This refrain is in one of their new songs:

"'Cause I know my weakness, know my voice

And I'll believe in grace and choice"

Source: inmyownstyle.com via Cindy on Pinterest

I still believe in magic (grace).  But I believe we create that magic by staying open to the possibilities that line up with our priorities (choice).  I also believe signs are real, but that they don't necessarily mean specific things....more like general leanings.  I think we have to create our realities after we've done the hard work of understanding ourselves...what we like, what we love, what makes us unique.  

Source: jonesdesigncompany.com via Cindy on Pinterest

Then there are all kinds of opportunities, each with gifts and each with issues.  Kinda takes the pressure off.  No need to worry and fret that we've missed out on 'the one'.  I believe in 'the many'....and for this season, we're gonna hope to make the best choice out of the many, trusting that we have the vision to make any home we buy or build 'the one'.

I hope sharing our windy path toward our next home is helpful to you guys.  I know it can sound like I have no idea where I'm going....but as I navigate my way thru this, I'm learning so much about myself, and I hope it can encourage especially those of you who feel like you can't trust your instincts to guide you.  Even in that moment when I thought "I missed it again" after our second visit to *that house*, I knew my cottage instincts could be trusted...that there must be something else out there for us.

And I believe we'll find it.

::Recovering My Cottage Instincts::

This will be long and convoluted and rambly, but I'm writing it for posterity....

(Robyn Rose 8 months)

And it documents when I started believing in magic again.  

Which means, I recovered my cottage instincts.

Magic, I tell ya.

Ya know, the last year or more on this blog I've been mostly absent.  It was an intense year for so many reasons, and it left no time or energy for me to fluff and frouff and stage and edit and post.  

Or have a sense of humor.  

I kinda thought my blogging days were numbered.  

(source)

Then in the last couple months our family decided it was finally time to move.  Say so long to the last 4.5 years in a community I didn't care for or fit into.  Say 'I've done what I can' to my circa 1982 ranch and look forward to new decorating adventures.  Mostly wave goodbye to the previous 18 months and hello to a bright future.

And a new house meant new fodder for blogger. :)  Lucky you!  (Am I over-reaching there?)

And by 'new', I mean brand spankin' new.

Let me start at the beginning...

Mid-November, we started thinking of building.  I talked to two builders in our area. I toured models.  I drove thru finished neighborhoods to get inspired.  We put money on a lot.  We made an appointment with Mortgage Guy.  We got a hold of Realtor Lady and began the process of getting our house ready to sell.  (understatement, saith my aching back)

Then this past Sunday, we came *this close* to signing the building contract....as in, Sales Rep Person was drawing up the contract before my husband realized it was *the* building contract and said "Whoa. Not yet...gotta talk to my money guy first."  

Which was an embarrassing moment, lemmetellya.  I'll even let on that I was a bit miffed. 

(source)

 Having dealt with the excitement, working endless hours on 3 different floor plans, 

....arranging furniture on gridpaper just so, picking out a lot (ooooo, there's one extra tree on that one....), trolling Pinterest for inspiration, firing one Sales Rep Person #1, well.....let's just say I was ready to be done with the indecision and get on with it.  

BUT.

That evening I began to understand how profound my husband's less-than-socially-acceptable-halting was.  

I began to thank my lucky astroids that I have a husband who is hesitant about throwing down many thousands of dollars on the table before knowing the actual lay of the land.

I didn't sleep well.

I arose Monday feeling agitated and irritated and confused and mad (and tired).  I suddenly felt I needed to get a job to help pay for this 'dream house'.  Which I'd never felt in my whole life. (!) In our 27 years of marriage, hubs and I held to certain values like not spending the upper limits of our income on housing.  Like me staying home with our kids even if it meant older or not-as-nice cars and homes.  Like knowing our neighbors.  Like not giving into the Galloping Gimmies too often.  

(every parent needs this book, just sayin'.)

I closed my eyes for the zillionth time and tried to see myself dwelling in a home I'd never actually been able to walk thru, a home with walk in closets, upstairs laundry, a corner garden tub, 9 foot ceilings, transom windows, a MUD ROOM.  I tried to imagine a pristine new home with slabs of wet driveway cement and a thatched front yard, the roar of bulldozers building someone else's dream next door.  

It wasn't working.  I simply couldn't see it. 

I tried to distract myself with some of my Country Living cottage deco books....and was reminded how much I love old stuff.  Which, of course, can look totally cool in a new home, don't get me wrong.  But they just 'fit' in an older home.  I was also reminded of how much environmental havoc is involved in the building process....and the outgassing we'll deal with (as the new carpet upstairs has been reminding me this week). 

So I left for yoga and decided to drive thru some areas near where I used to live....80-100 year old homes with no yards, no driveways, no garages, no walkout basements....and spiraled a bit deeper into the abyss of indecision, wondering and observing this weird sensation of 'not sure' after getting so cozy with the idea of 'new and fabulous (and expensive)' for the last couple months.  Thinking how foreign to be thinking about getting a job after all these years to help pay for the 'dream house'.  And then wishing we could find some older home, a mature, settled place that would fit our needs as well as our dreams....and realizing that was a slim possibility.

I drove to our new lot and stared.  Nothing.  I felt nothing.  I remembered sitting at the table less than 24 hours previously ready to sign off on an as-yet non-existent dwelling....looking at my husband when Sales Rep Person told us our 'new' address, and both of us saying 'eh, not crazy about that name'.  I recalled all the forcing and struggling and frustration trying to get people to call us back.  And the house price increasing with every visit to Sales Rep Person.  And telling myself I deserved a new house after all these years, goshdarnit!!!

Back at home, I sighed, plunked myself down in front of the computer and decided to check the MLS again in hopes that by some miracle, the right house might pop up, even though for 3 months not a single property seemed suitable competition to what we wanted to build.

You know where this is going right?  

I typed in my old zipcode and... 

(source)

 First house listed, no pictures yet, just an address.  But I recognized the street name instantly....my old neighborhood....but the older, more stately section.  The area we could never afford.  The neighborhood that rarely offered up one of it's pearls of homey goodness. I mapped the address and soon discovered it was THAT HOUSE....

THAT HOUSE that I drove by daily, wishing I lived there. 

THAT HOUSE that I walked by s-l-o-w-l-y with the dog...hoping he'd choose to relieve himself right there so I could take in the goodness, and perhaps steal a peek thru the windows.  Obsessed might be just slightly too over-the-top, but it gives you an idea how I felt about the place.  

It was all window boxes and front porch swings, and 2 car attached garagey (!), and inground pool-ish.  It was shuttered off-center-window-quirkiness, and tall, old tree loveliness......

And now, (be still my heart) my screen was telling me it was available, weighing in at 90K less than what we were considering building.  

Oh Hello.

(source)

I shook my head in disbelief.  Which moved quickly to tears.  Which progressed to laughter. Which moved back to tears.  Which culminated in 'dare I hope?'  

THAT HOUSE!  Up for grabs????  REALLY???

I even said aloud "No.  This isn't happening.  This can't be happening.  It's too good.  It's too full circle and perfect and and and....."

,,,,And suddenly all the agitation, all the frustration, the stress, and worry evaporated.  

Gone.  

The words "NO WONDER" reverberated thru my heart.  

That, my friends, *that* is where the magic jump-started into a whirling purr in my spirit.  

I hadn't felt it since my granddaughter emerged into this world on my family room floor in April.  

I wasn't sure I'd ever feel it again after my beautiful mom succumbed to cancer in September.

The last day has been spent looking at the pictures that were finally posted and doing my yoga breathing and downward dogs so I don't take off into spaz-land in my anxiousness to see it.  Our first showing was scheduled for last evening (just after the meeting with Mortgage Guy).  It was postponed until Friday.

FRIDAY, PEOPLE.  That's like the equivalent to a thousand years, right?

(source)

I can't say that this whole deal doesn't look suspiciously like a big present wrapped up in a satin bow with my name on it.  But I also know there is always good and bad to everything...even when it's special-delivery from the Universe.  Like with our kids, who are beyond fabulous, but can be less-than-fun on many occasions (like 3am wet-the-bed sessions, for instance.)

Then there's that whole changing direction mid stream thing.  Some might call it flakey.  

I mean, a mere 24 hours previously I had designed my dream home . Was pissed my hubby engaged in contract-signing interruptus.

Now I'm sure I'll be forever content with a house where I'd share a bathroom with 2 teenage boys.  

Does that seem just a mite strange?  

I toyed with the idea that I might be completely deranged and have no clue anymore what I truly want in life.

Although I'm a sucker for crystal knobs.

And original hardwood floors.

And arched doorways.

yeah.

This complete about-face made Hubs and I ask ourselves some hard questions:

1) What do we actually need/want in a house?
2) What kind of folks are we really?  New house people or old neighborhood folks?
(I've had 2 people in 2 days say we're definitely the latter, and my counselor told me I'm an 'old soul' and should explore living in an older home, which we did 20 years and 4 houses ago...it was the only home where I cried the first time we walked in).
And  most importantly,
3) What are our values?  Have they changed?

And that last one was a doozy.  The meeting with Mortgage Guy laid out for us the reality that although we could afford the new one, things would be tremendously tight financially for awhile.  When we examined our values last night after the meeting, I realized I like the freedom we have in our finances now, and that we've wanted to be more purposeful in our giving, and that being in debt is just plain awful.  And that, lo those many years ago we wanted to be people who didn't stretch the financial limits when it came to homes.

It's all about those cottage instincts, folks.  My heart loves all things cottage because it lines up so perfectly with our values for homes.  Smaller, older, quirkier....cheaper.  

I suppose you find the emotional trail and follow it....

even if it seems to lead to the Crazy Train.  

(source)

Because, honestly, there's lots of others on that train.  Those who've shunned the popular, the trendy, the copycats to live their own authentic, unique lives....be it in their clothing, their values, their homes....

You trust your instincts.  Something I thought I'd lost.  

Both the instincts AND the trust in myself.

(source)

Most times pushing yourself into a box (even one with a corner soaking tub) isn't smart.  Even in the heady days of arranging paper furniture on a grid of floorplans I wondered why this all felt so hard.  

Sometimes letting go and allowing goodness to come to you, trusting that you'll recognize yourself and your heart when it arrives, is the best way to deal with frustration and stressful decisions.  There's those times we need to chase down and grab hold, but when that gig stops working, it's time to back off.  

Monday morning I knew it was time to stop forcing and start trusting.  

As excited as I am about the possibility of THAT HOUSE being ours.....I'm at peace because I received my answer about building....that it doesn't really align with our family's budget and values.  Even if THAT HOUSE ends up not working out, it has served an enormous purpose in my life....reminding me of what I truly want, helping me say no to some of my LIKES to leave room for my LOVES.  

Now I just need to wait.  

And keep trusting my cottage instincts.  

I'll keep y'all posted.  

::Winterfying the Mantel::

Well, Friends, the Christmas decor was dismantled on Christmas Day.

It took another 2 weeks to get the room dressed for Winter.

I like lots of browns and neutrals with some hits of white to brighten the dark days ahead.

Just used stuff I already had.

And lots of pinecones.

Of course.

Much of the pinecone stuff is left from my daughter's Vintage Chic Barn wedding last December.

This is my attempt at a brown artificial flower arrangement.

That right there is as good as it gets for this gal.

I sat on the floor for this shot.  Duh.

Here's a sneak peek at some of my other Winterfying....

I'll get that post up soon.  

Didn't want to overwhelm ya with too many pictures.

And I want to get back in the habit of at least 2 posts a week.

This is my favoritist room in my whole ding dang house.  

For Reals.

The view from my perch on the couch.

Obligatory artsy shot.

Even makes the dead plant and black cord look not-so-goofy.

Like everyone else in bloggy-land, I am contemplating lots of changes for my blog.

But the biggest change in my life will be placing our cottage on the market by month's end....

Where we go next is, well, we don't know yet!  Build new?  Buy existing?  Rent for a while til we decide?

We are staying in the same city.

Letting go of the dream of moving south to warmer climes has finally died as reality sent a one-two punch...but it's all good.

(psssst....you can get hints of my future dream dwelling if you follow me on pinterest.)

I'm excited about what the new year holds for me and my family.

Last year was an exercise in adapting to the stress put on us by others.

(read here and here for the inside scoop)

It was full of beautiful moments and times of extreme pain and even despair.

I've never spoken much about my struggles with chronic severe depression, 

but last year tested my fortitude further than ever, and I've come out of it feeling bewildered.....

but ready to take charge of my life again.

This year I hope to adapt to stress of my own making.

Because if you're gonna deal with stress, better it be from taking charge of your own destiny while you have the chance.  

I've decided life is very short, and going after my dreams is my first priority.

My resolutions for the new year are legion, and can't be articulated yet.

But my word is HOPE.

source

Thanks for stopping by. 

Here's to a new beginning with much joy in the journey.

And a mantel that makes you happy every time you look at it.