::Goodbye Old Kitchen, Hello Someday Kitchen::

PSSSST...I'm no longer blogging here!

You can now find me at

www.acottagegirl.com

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Let's talk about kitchens, shall we?

Today I want to show you my old kitchen in my previous house.

I never did a post about my kitchen because it was just weird. 

Functional, but weird. 

It had mismatched, old appliances, crappy laminate counters, nasty vinyl floor, orange oak cabinets

.....well you get the picture.

Actually you get this picture...taken the day of our inspection in 2008.

Here's another beautyshot from that day:

I was working with a limited budget and overwhelmed with the amount of wallpaper and brown we were dealing with throughout the home, so I just used the magic of paint mostly.  Oak cabs turned white, hardware replaced with black, walls became blue....

Then brown.....here's the shot from our realtor's camera in January, taken for the listing.

And how 'bout that oak ceiling light box, eh?  Fabulous.  

What this doesn't show is the beast of a stainless fridge we got secondhand from a friend remodeling her kitchen as ours was 25+ years old and falling apart....and I loathe stainless steel, btw.  Hated it from the moment it started popping up in my country/cottage mags 15 years ago.  To me it's cold and sterile and the opposite of what I'm trying to achieve in my cottage look.  

But hey, it carried the mismatched vibe I had going on in there already....stainless fridge, bisque oven/fan, black dishwasher, white sink. *rolling eyes*.  I like eclectic, don't get me wrong, but really?

I did love how my valance fabric looked with my walls....

 Anyway, in case you missed it, we're hoping to build a house next door to the small home we just bought.

So now I'm plotting and planning my next kitchen.....and because I'm drawn to so many different cottage looks, it's been quite an exercise in frustration.

Still trying to differentiate between my likes and loves.

 Here's the builder's take on 'modern cottage' with our floor plan (this was their offering for last year's 'parade of homes')

Terrible picture...it blurs when I try to enlarge it. Here's a link to the page where you can see better shots of the interior of the home.

Anyway, not my style.

So what am I shooting for?

Well, if you've been watching my 'Yummy Kitchens' Pinterest board blow up, recently, you'll see ideas and looks I'm trying on for size.

You'll see lots of blue cabs and white appliances with warm wood floors.

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This is my mama's kitchen, Christmas 2011.

Missing her so much on this new decorating adventure (she's been gone 6 month now....)

Then I see beautiful white cabs with pale blue walls and go *sigh*...

I've shown this kitchen previously, but I just adore the beachy hues (but not the stainless fridge, lol)

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This awesome space comes very close to vibe I love....

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Seriously considering glass front upper cabs with blue backs like this:

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But I adore open shelving too, especially if beaded board arrives on the scene, like these:

(Chris' kitchen is AMAZING.)

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Other ideas I'm kicking around:

Mixing finishes/colors...

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love the warm wood touches....

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This kitchen has so much of what I love...white uppers with blue backs, blue lowers, wood island (and beadboard, planked ceiling, mixed counter surfaces....not sure how I feel about the subway tile, and I definitely don't like the lighting.)

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Other touches that caught my fancy (like or love?  Still trying to decide!)

Interesting trim detailing under cabs, awesome aqua ripple glass and fabulous knobs.

I even kind like the baby subway tile....hmmmm.

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farmhouse sink....

(no link from pinterest?)

I know this isn't kitchen cabs, but I love the color Diane used on this hutch/dresser and I'm seriously thinking of going with brass hardware on my lower cabinets.  Diane dulled the shine a bit...I actually like both the shiney and antiqued versions of brass...but not plain shiney gold a la 1980's.

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And how 'bout an antiqued brass pendant light?

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with a vintage-look antique brass faucet?

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Then again I love oil-rubbed bronze too....and we'll prolly use that on all the doors around the house.

I took this elcrapo pic with my phone from Country Living's 500 Kitchen Ideas book last night at B&N:

I think this comes very close to what I'll do....it combines many of the elements I mentioned in this post:

White glass-fronted upper cabinets with colored glass knobs and corbels beneath (perhaps paint the interior backs with my pale blue wall paint color)

White Beaded board.

Painted lower cabs and island (I'd do some darker version of my pale blue wall paint with brass bin pulls)

Butcher block counters (may just do this on the island), and I'm digging that warm wood corbel on the overhang....

I also like the Shaker style cabs and white appliance(s)

Donuts.

Did you notice how I took a ton of images and began pulling the common denominators out to define my style?  Then when I saw the above image, I recognized 'the look' immediately, even though my kitchen will still reflect ME.  I actually spent several evenings deleting many kitchen pins from my board, so I could really focus in on stuff that I know I can commit to long term....my loves.  

And of course, many of these elements will be grafted in to our builder-grade kitchen over time as we can't afford to do everything at once, even though it's tempting to mortgage the cost of that antique brass faucet up there....

Thanks for walking down the long, windy path toward my dream kitchen....I'll keep ya posted as we wait on word from the lender on whether they'll even finance this undertaking next door.

I'm curious...do you go thru and delete pins now and again as your preferences change or become more congealed?  I'm working on cleaning up my inspiration files both on Pinterest and on my decorating books/mags shelf.  It's a great way to walk thru that sorting and sifting exercise, that honing of your personal ::cottage instincts::

::Swan Dive::

So long story a bit shorter:

We bought the house in the previous post....the cape cod with a lot next to it.

(the white house in the background was built by friends of ours from another neighborhood...so we'll be back-door neighbors again!)

It was a super duper long shot, as 2 other buyers had scheduled a 2nd showing the following day, and the realtor was expecting another offer over the weekend.

We looked at it with the kids, then spent the evening deliberating about an offer as it had to be something the kids could afford to pay us as rent after we move next door once our house is built.  Even though we knew others were seriously interested, we decided we wouldn't get into a bidding war, that we would offer what we could (more on that in a bit), and trust that if it was meant to be, it would happen.  Before bed, we emailed our realtor to call us first thing to help us put in the offer.

6:00am I get an email that the property is no longer on the market.  Wait, wah?

Disappointment, weeping and gnashing of teeth ensue.  We shouldn't have waited!  BUT, we did was was sensible and prudent, taking our time to understand the ramifications of going forward with my little scheme....and I assumed at that point, it must not have been in the cards for us.

I put off calling my daughter 'cause I knew she'd be so disappointed...even though we told her and her hubby it was gonna be hard to finaggle all the details, especially as we weren't able to offer full price.  Now we couldn't even make an offer!

Before calling her with the news, I checked in with hubs a couple hours later to see if he'd heard from our realtor about what had happened.  Sure enough, he had a voicemail from our realtor.  Evidently the listing had expired at midnight, so I was notified via email...but not that it had been immediately relisted.

Shew-y!

24 hours later our modest offer was accepted with no counter offer.  My biggest fear was that they'd counter and we would have to walk away....or worse, the other offer would simply better.  I was truly shocked!  And thrilled!  And amazed!  And I actually cried.....we chanced it, and it worked :)

One wee issue...we couldn't do a contingent offer...sooooo.....

.....Realtor Friend put a sign in the yard the next day.  Sell, Baby, Sell!  We were excited about how it worked out, but were terribly under the gun to get our house sold.  I believed things were happening as they should, without us pushing or fretting....but that breeze felt a bit chilly on our rear ends just ahangin' out there.....

And within 2 weeks, we had an asking price offer.  While we were traipsing thru Disney World no-less.

We move in one week.

One week.  As in 4 weeks after this whole rigamaroll started.

Exciting times here at the cottage, lemmetellya.

The saga isn't over yet....we still need to make sure we can get financing to build next door....and the bank might not be too keen on financing a property that might not appraise for what it will cost to build because it sits on a main thoroughfare (already had one appraiser tell us NOT to build there).  We'll just keep to the plan until it seems it's impossible.  The way things have worked so far has convinced me that things work out like they should if you dare to dream and to follow your instincts.

Even when you're in a full-blown swan dive into a big unknown future.

::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.  

The Future

PSSSST...I'm no longer blogging here!

You can now find me at

www.acottagegirl.com

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So many folks on my regular blog rounds are posting all the awesome things they accomplished last year, and all the wonderful stuff they're looking forward to this year.  All the goals they have, the hopes and dreams that motivate them.  I, on the other hand, feel like I barely survived this last year, and 2012 is a gaping black hole staring me down....ready to suck up any happiness I manage to find and leave me with profound tragedy and pain.  I've never felt so vulnerable, so out of control.  And so helpless. I feel a constant dread of the future.  I feel stuck and unable to plan for anything.  A deep, stubborn hopelessness has settled it's black wings over my spirit and mind.  The wedding planning consumed my mind and energy, giving me a much-needed distraction, but I knew the aftermath would entail facing some serious uncomfies. January has indeed arrived; the aftermath is here. And I hate math. 

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I should go back to counseling.  Don't really think it will help a whole lot, but that's what people do when they're mad/sad/terrified/burned out, yeah?  My health issues have returned as I pushed wholesome eating and exercise to the rear, and even though I'd love to just run away to a spa somewhere where they'd teach me yoga and feed me organic whole food the whole ding dang day long then put me to bed with a calming massage and classical music....alas, my life responsibilities are relentless. There will be crawling out of bed, putting on my socks and facing into what needs faced with a quivering heart submitted to what life hands me each day.  There will be grasping at little glints of shiny, slippery joy when I see them, and training myself to be steadfast in looking for their glimmer in the worst of times.  There will be learning to accept a drowning grace for myself when yet again I meet my elicit lover…food, and succumb to it’s numbing embrace. Or the siren's song of a mid-day slumber-escape.  Or barking at my beloved offspring.

It's hard to heal from a tumultuous year of intense stress and heartbreak when even bigger stress and heartbreak awaits around the corner.  How to prepare? How to be wise, knowing your opponent is holding the ace in the hole (no bluffing needed)?  I suppose I'm going to try to be present, try to acknowledge and focus on the good and happy, look for the silver lining.....and feel kinda dumb doing it, honestly.  But there’s no choice except to slog thru it, to embrace what comes with the wee bit of grace I can muster, knowing I'll probably look back with regret at how it all unfolded.  How I dealt with the poo that hit the fan, the mess that ensued.

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My heart hurts, and while I've had pretty awful stuff happen in the last year, it's not like I lost a child or was diagnosed with some incurable disease, or found out my husband had been cheating.  I know people who faced these tragic events this year, and they're still trying...still giving life a go and hoping it will all come out right somehow.  Still making beauty with the raw materials of pain and suffering. Me?  I wake up with a sugar/carb hangover each day then stumble back to the kitchen for the next hit. I'm not brilliant, but I know that ain't livin' the good life.

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I'm tired.  Bone tired and longing for something.  Yet all I can see of that formless, nameless something is a wide swathe of sand and the emerald blue-green of rolling waves.  I could stare forever at each incoming, foaming, frothy, uniquely shaped wall of water as it curls in on itself and creeps up the sugar sands, pushed by the momentum of a thousand million billion waves behind it.  

The beauty in the monotony.  

The power behind the rhythm. 

 The safety in the ritual.  

Why I can't see this in my own life baffles me. 

In a few weeks I'll be heading to those sands and rolling waters.  Maybe sitting still and watching nature's performance for a few weeks will massage out the tension in my spirit.  Maybe hearing the constant roar just outside my window will drown out the chatter of hopeless thoughts and feelings stuck in my brain.  

Maybe watching the waves encroaching upon the beach will replace the time and commitments that have encroached upon my recent life, and I can again catch my breath and relearn what it is to relax and be. Maybe find strength to face what lies ahead.

And what does lie ahead?

In the coming months (maybe weeks), I will face the death of two precious women from cancers that won't relent: my mama, and a dear friend Deb.  The terror of that consumes me.  Makes me feel weak and cowardly and ashamed at how I take my life for granted, doing nothing most days but feeling depressed.  I feel like the least I should do is *try*.   Try to make a happy life for the sake of those who won't have it soon.  

But trying comes with risk.  Risk of disappointment and failure, both of which I have hardy experience with and neither of which I have a particular fondness for....let alone energy for.  Still, I plan to explore some ideas of what 'trying' might look like for me in this ridiculous season of my life.  I've contemplated starting an online biz, monetizing this blog, flipping burgers.  I've thought about once again (for the eighty-millionth time) attacking this excess 80 pounds of fat clinging to my frame.  I've toyed with selling everything and moving to a broken down cottage by the sea.  Or just leaving..... 

And yet?

And yet.

Amidst all this doom and gloom, there is one very bright light.  Isn't that just how it goes?  Life's way of dragging you along even when you're throwing a 2 year old tantrum?  It's a bit cruel actually, to be thrown a line when you've already jumped ship and reconciled yourself to a peaceable end in the waves.

My first grandchild is due to appear on the scene by April's end.

Now tell me....isn't that just like Life?  To unleash an unexpected, fresh breeze into the stale, claustrophobic air you've been wheezing in for so long?  To prove that yes, you can feel pure terror and unspeakable joy at the same time and in the same humble human frame?  That longing for time to stop, yet longing for time to pass can cozy right up next to each other.  Oh yeah, Life is a sneaky devil.

I've learned by heart what 'bittersweet' feels like.  I thought I knew.... but I had an academic understanding only.  The real thing is a shocking experience.  There is no reconciliation or 'settling'.  No boxing it up with a nice bow on top.  It makes you feel, well, alive.  It gives you the ability to laugh and cry at the same time.  Living with bittersweet realities somehow infuses you with hope, just when you were sure you weren't dealt any this round.

Anyway, if you've managed to digest this rambling feelings-to-words post, I appreciate it.  I've watched my followers grow due to Pinterest I supposed, but I get very few comments anymore.  I figured why not just let it all hang out.  Process aloud.  The good and the bad.  No sugar coating...although maybe some pretty pictures now and then as I learn to use my new camera.

Which is, perhaps, another move-on-the-sly from good 'ole Life, eh? Nothing like a new hobby, a new lens, to document this messy existence.