It's Almost Been A Year Since My Last Visit Here!

 

Miss Bertha worries that she can't climb stairs to get to the bedroom!

Wow! Where has the year gone? So much has happened and my idea of the perfect home has changed drastically for me. Reality bites. Ouch! I am looking at buying a small yellow ranch house in Athens, Georgia, after drooling over turn of the century Victorian homes in Florida and Georgia. Why the change and what the heck has been going on?

First, last fall I had my house on the market for less than thirty days. I realized I could not move - not my home - but my body. My left hip caused me so much pain I literally stopped in place trying to walk from the jolt that went through my hip and down my leg. At that time I so wanted to move to Florida, to be closer to my mother, and to a little town forty miles from her that offered a wonderful pink Victorian home, three levels, mostly renovated, for a price that was hard to believe. Being in metro Atlanta, it is hard to find anything I can afford now. I could not afford to buy the house I am living in now if I weren't already here for so many years!

 

My Florida dream house currently pending sale to another at $149,000.  Seriously . . .

 

The holidays were a bit of a blur since I also popped something behind my right knee that kept me off my feet for a week, all my party plans on hold as I sat with six dogs, ordered food to be delivered, and sobbed with every romantic Christmas movie Hallmark had to offer.

 

I still got on the computer, Zillow my constant companion, next to the dogs, of course.

 

In January, my right hip started bothering me. Walking on a cane I felt like I was a hundred years old with both hips hurting. Still I postponed surgery. I hate the idea of surgery and I needed to figure out who could come take care of my six-pack of hounds while I was gone.

 

Finally I gave in. Surgery was scheduled for May, but I had almost two months to think about it. To distract myself, I pulled a book together, a picture book about one of my dogs, Miss April in Paris, who dreamed of visiting the city of lights. With the help of my talented sister/designer ( PD King Design) the picture book became a reality and posted on Amazon a few days before I had my surgery.

 

 

Available on Amazon. A portion of all sales goes to animal rescue.

 

While my dog dreamed of Paris, I still dreamed of a cottage style house, a farm house, a Victorian beauty. I wanted an acre or two, with maybe some chickens, or a goat. I still dream of that house, but have found a house that suits me well. And once again, I am off my rocker while still on my walker recovering from hip replacement surgery.

 

I found my perfect little ranch house in Athens, Georgia.

 

 

A far cry from the pink Victorian from last fall, but I do love this house. It is perfect for me and the dogs. Maybe I've watched too much HGTV while stuck at home recovering. OMG what they find behind walls when renovating older homes. The last thing I want - more house problems. Perhaps that Zillow ad on HGTV got to me . . . You are not just buying a house, you are buying a lifestyle. (The wording on TV may have been slightly different, but you get the idea.)

 

What do I want for my lifestyle? I don't want to be secluded on a farm away from civilization. How do I run get dog food at midnight? And I don't want stairs. Yes, I am still having trouble with stairs, but I will mend. I have dogs that could not go up stairs and I want them sleeping with me. Right now I yell "bed!!!!" and six dogs race down the hallway to the bedroom. They are waiting with wagging tails when I appear. How would some of them get up a flight of stairs . . . they wouldn't. So, nix the stairs, I'm down to all one level.

 

I have so many other dreams aside from my house fantasy, the cottage in my mind has changed in shape and appearance. I want to write, paint, make jewelry, do shows again, have fun with friends, perhaps attend classes at the University (when you get to be my age you can audit for free!) and find a way to be out of the house more, instead of constantly dreaming in my head!

 

I spend so much time figuring out where to put my stuff (and lots of that stuff is left over from my antique shop, still trying to thin it out) how to get rid of the last of my late husband's stuff (my three outbuildings are full of office desks from thirty years ago, paint cans, insect sprays, and rotting garden chairs from as many years back). I am weighted down by stuff, stuff that doesn't matter to me. I still love the stuff I love and will haul as much as possible to a new home. But I want to feel lighter in my house so I can enjoy everything on one floor. The cottage above still gives me as much square footage as I have here, minus the basement I can't even get into at the moment. It is perfect for me and the dogs. With four bedrooms and three baths, it will be perfect for friends and family to come visit, too.

 

Now it is up to the universe. I am ready to go. My house just went up for sale. It is a crazy thing to be doing this now. I am over one surgery, but still healing, and I may have to have surgery on my other hip. I am on a walker and can't bend down yet. But I believe that things happen when they should. I've done my part, now let's see if the time is right.

 

A fortune cookie at the beginning of the year had a fortune I liked. By the end of this year your dreams will come true. It took me a few months to figure out just exactly what my dream was. My dream versus my fantasy. There is a difference.

 

I want to be in my new home and walking with my new hips. It can happen. Anything can happen. Perhaps the universe has something entirely different for me. Time will tell. But for the moment the cottage in my mind is a little yellow ranch house that makes me smile thinking of a new start.

Garden In July

 

 

Some photos of my garden in July. The first of the month the blooms were bright with roses and daisies. Some flowers are fading now and others filling in. It always amazes me to watch how nature changes. The Crepe Myrtle and Tiger Lilies are adding hot pink and orange in huge spurts of color!

 

 

 

 

Jasmine blossoms round the arbour,
Elder spreads along the air,
Hollyhocks stand proudly tallest
In the fragrant thoroughfare.
Pansies, like a 'broidered carpet,
Through the garden ways are set,
And the sweet-peas catch the sunlight
In a tangled flowery net.
Sunflowers, with a kingly bearing,
Hold their golden heads on high,
Pinks breathe out a friendly welcome
Every time you pass them by.
Gather seeds while seeds do ripen
In the bounteous July sun,
Garner well the treasure-packets
In your store-house one by one.
And before the month is over,
Pluck sweet lavender and dry
All its tiny flowers for sweetness,
In the winter by and by.

Caroline Maitland (1858 – 1920) was an English poet and writer. She married in 1883 Ernest Radford, and wrote as Dollie Radford.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My David Austin Rose Is Blooming!

 

 

 

 

Won't you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you. 

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

 

 

Nothing says cottage garden more than roses to me. I want old fashion English roses that look like the roses in magazines, climbing over arbors, twining through picket fences.

 

My wish came true today. In a small way. But big enough to fill my heart with the beauty I covet. And it is growing in my back yard.

 

Finally.

 

My very own David Austin rose is in full regalia with blossoms and buds ready to burst open at any moment.

 

Now, if I were a true gardener, I could tell you the name of this rose. But I don't have a clue. It was purchased twenty years ago from a catalog. The photo was one of many that I had trouble deciding on. I knew pink was a must.

 

It took years to bloom. The rose is planted next to the back of the house. My late husband built a huge trellis for me. The vines took hold of the wood railings and started to climb high. But the rose never had a single flower.

 

Did you fertilize it? you might ask. My answer is no. I did nothing to help this English lady blossom.

 

I just waited.

 

And wondered.

 

Back when my husband was alive he was not happy with the bush. It reached out far into the yard with huge thick thorns that stuck him as he rode by on the lawnmower. There may not have been flowers, but the branches had a life of their own. He pruned it back a few times and tucked the  branches back on the trellis, hoping to contain it. Sometimes cutting it back further than he should at times when pruning was not recommended.

 

Still the rose bush held its own coming back each year. But no blooms.

 

The year after my husband died, I had to put a French drain in next to the foundation of the house. There was water in my basement. The trellis was moved. The rose stayed in place.

 

"Cut that rose bush when you dig the ditch and it is off with your heads!" I told my handyman and his crew as I wagged a finger in their faces.

 

The rose survived the French drain.

 

It bloomed the following year. And has had a rose or two on it each year since.

 

This year it is taking me by surprise.

 

Huge blooms. Many buds.

 

My rose bush. Neglected. Managed to grow despite adversity and is now a thing of beauty.

 

I know there is a life lesson there.

 

For now I'm just going to watch with awe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Won't you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/roses.html#8L4DMRokLgFK2TEA.99

Won't you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/roses.html#8L4DMRokLgFK2TEA.99

A Skip & A Hop From Madness

Dreaming In Brown

(photo Pinterest)

 

I woke up today to a dark sky and rain. We've had beautiful spring-like weather the last week, a huge contrast to the horrible winter snow that kept visiting my neck of the woods. Soft pink blossoms are on my fruit trees, a few daffodils have poked through the weeds in my overgrown flower beds, my dogs ran joyfully through the yard. This morning, six dogs stood in my kitchen doorway with me as we looked out at the wet patio. Only one dog would venture out, the rest turned and trotted back to the sunroom. I can only image how this day will go!

My coffee was ready so I filled a cup and sat down at the computer. Yes, I failed to mention, the dogs did get fed. They do not allow me to do my thing until their thing is done. Their thing is dog kibble before my coffee. The rain is making me feel restless. Is it time for change again?

I took a sip of my lovely warm coffee, looked at the dogs sleeping on the couch behind me, the chair next to me, and Chloe, the little Chi, tucked behind me in my wicker chair. Then I went to Google and typed in Pinterest. I needed eye candy to brighten my morning. What I got was a heap of trouble brewing as the Cottage In My Mind started to change its style. A thought came to me as I looked at photos - not of my beloved old painted furniture - but of  brown furniture as my antique dealer friends and I call it. Not lovely soft pastel cupboards, the paint with a patina only age could bring - but wood, stained lightly, darkly, with only a patina that age could bring.  Ah, is there anything better than a patina from age. . .

A thought crossed my mind briefly. Why not have an estate sale - sell everything - and start over? A second thought followed that. . . . I have finally lost my mind. This is the second time within less than a month I have seriously thought about a different theme throughout my house. I wrote about a more colorful bohemian European style change on my Sparkle Blog titled Post-Op Delirium. Maybe that title spells out what is wrong with me. I had surgery mid February and am still in a holding pattern while I mend. (I am fine thank you if you asked - just can't move furniture, work in the yard, and do the heavy things that tire me out so I stop thinking of how to change my house!)

There is a truth in all of this that I need to recognize. Perhaps you have the same problem with things that excite you. Mine is decorating and houses (oh yes, and six dogs, how did I forget?) with others it could be clothes and shoes, or men, or travel, whatever your passion is. If you love something is there ever enough?

I remember my first house, a charming forties bungalow, I loved loved loved it, until I filled it up. I needed more rooms. I still had 'stuff' - but I had no space. For some stupid reason, I never worry I don't have money. . . but I do panic when I run out of room to put things. There is always a piece of furniture, a photo, that triggers, not just the yearning to own it, but a series of other items that flash through my brain, to design an entire room around it.

My psychic shopping experience, I used to label it. Back when I did antique shows, and still had space to add things to my ranch house, I could see an antique and within the week, I found and purchased everything I needed to set up my booth or redecorate my house. I would be out on an errand and suddenly a shop would catch my eye and I'd think, I need to stop there. I'd pull in and find just what I needed to complete the room in my head (which has now grown to the cottage in my mind). I was convinced it was a psychic experience, because I'd find things when I hadn't planned to shop. Yet on days  I set out to look for a treasure, I'd find nothing. That lasted for a few years.

I thought my talent for psychic shopping had left me. Until. . .

It happened this spring when I did my ranch re-do. Yes, my handyman did the physical changes, but I knew I needed to swap out a few old pieces for a few new old pieces. I had a dresser in mind I'd seen in a book, a sweet Eastlake piece with a tall gingerbread trimmed mirror. I dreamed of that dresser. I never thought I'd find it.

Then one afternoon I went to a different town to shop with friends. We'd been to three shops and nothing appealed to me, nothing exciting, nothing to buy. Our last stop sparked something in my brain (deranged as it is) that made me know this was the place I'd find what I needed. The first piece of furniture as I walked into the shop, was a version of that Eastlake dresser. I bought it. (FYI, so you know my crazy runs deep, it is in my back shed. I have no place for it. . . just yet).  Two booths later, I found the perfect pieces for my kitchen. Bought them too. I acted like a rich gal rather than a nut case with no money, but big ideas.  The lady at the desk treated me with respect. I dropped a bundle that day. Pleased I'd found exactly what I needed, I had to return to pick up my purchases a few days later. I looked and looked, wanting to find something more that I loved (those of you addicted to the chase will recognize that feeling). Nothing. Nothing excited me. Nothing made me think . . . maybe. My psychic shopping gene found exactly what I needed for my kitchen (Okay, and a piece I didn't need, but dreamed of!) and then it was over.

The purpose of this post, rambling on like it is, I've managed to get my desire for change under control for the moment. The estate sale sign is back where it belongs - hidden far from my view. The rain is still pouring down, the sky a little lighter, the tension of being slightly bored, recovering from surgery, wanting to do everything, and not able to do much at all to move things around in my house, has been replaced by something I can handle. Food.

I wonder what I can eat now. Is there something fun in the fridge?

Sometimes a bit of craziness is a great way to pass time. Dreaming is a good thing. But I do know, eating is my answer today. Excuse me while I head to the kitchen. Oh look, there are two lovely painted cupboards against the wall, that I found against all odds, but thanks to my psychic abilities. I love love love them.

Silly me. I love things just the way the are in my house. What was I thinking?

 

My Happy Dance

 

I haven't given up on the farmhouse either.

If you are going to dream, take it all in!

 

 

Cottage Winter Wonderland And A Book Launch

The lady stands guard in my back yard, watching over all, and smiling as the seasons change. She is a constant with her grace and beauty in any weather. A reminder to me to stay calm.

I have not posted here since spring. At that time I was planting roses and delighting in work being done on my ranch house. Then I do what I do best, I took a spin in another direction. I had an idea for a book, and the last months had me working at the computer, the work on my house at a standstill. This week, in the middle of an ice storm that has kept me locked in my house for several days, my book "Danger In Her Words" was published and available on Amazon on February 12. The Kindle version will be up for sale next week.

My character Susan moved from the city of Atlanta to a fictional town to live in her dream farmhouse, a late 1800s Victorian cottage on two acres of land in a tiny town with a population of 323. The cottage in my mind became a reality in my book. The farmhouse was a mixture of all the cottages I've looked at over the past two years. It was fun to have a romantic, sexy, bit of a thriller, take place in an environment I dream about.

Did I finally come to peace with my ranch house, or do I still dream of cottages at night? I think my house fantasy still lives on, although I am more in love with my old surroundings since I've made some changes.

My house is a mess. In the middle of the changes, when I changed course, things were left undone. I still need to hang paintings, move cupboards, and do the final decorating I love to do. Today I finally took down my Christmas trees. I am back on track...a little...somewhat...for me, a few steps forward.

A friend made a suggestion that started new plans for me, a garden fantasy. She visited my house for the first time, a few days before the snow drifted in. I am slow to invite people into my house, six dogs are a bit overwhelming for others. For me it is a lifestyle I love. My friend met the dogs and, after the initial bit of bedlam, they settled down, and we walked out to my deck and patio. She looked around at all the dried branches, plants that were dormant, bushes that might be dead. I am not a gardener, but hope for the best, expect the miracle of life to continue in nature on its own.  Her words, like music to my ears, "What a perfect spot to have a spring book launch! With a bit of work this place will be lovely."  I refrained from saying that with no work, the yard is lovely with established beds in the spring and summer. But she planted an idea. I may just have my book launch, or at least a garden book signing for my friends, when the winter weather has vanished and spring peeks in to say hello.

I will also post photos of my decorating as I start to pull it and myself together.

And what about my book? Here is a bit of a blurb.

A TV sitcom pitch gone wrong turns dog-column writer Susan Meyers in a tailspin. Sex Sells was the topic of the day at the writers’ convention. Susan decided to try something new and a steamy romantic novel seemed just the answer. A widow who hadn’t dated in three years, Susan was out of practice with men and sex. She turned to an online dating site to find inspiration for her book and unleashed a predator with the words she wrote. Tucked an hour away from her friends in a small town where she kept to herself, with only her tiny dog for company, Susan felt safe from the world. Little did she know her life was about to change. 

A romp of a story about writing and finding yourself in this book within a book. If you love girl-talk, farmhouses, antiques, country towns, a touch of murder, a sprinkle of suspense, and a bit of naughty fun, come join Susan as she learns about life from her character Jamie.  Two widows looking for love in all the wrong places might still get it right if they live long enough.

 

 

 

The yard in winter. We'll see how it looks this spring! I see planters of fragrant herbs on my deck and the old garden furniture placed a bit more artistically. One can never have too many garden statues, and I am working on a plan to make my yard the perfect cottage garden, if not with flowers, than with garden art. A little wine, some cucumber sandwiches, and cheese straws, would be lovely for an old fashion book signing. Ha! Who am I kidding. I'll want my Margaritas and chips. . .It is fun to dream and sometimes dreams do come true

 

 

 

My Faux Farm

Sometimes a house dictates what it wants to look like. My ranch house told me it wanted to be a farmhouse more than a cottage. I think in my heart I wanted a little farmhouse too - one full of cottage style with a touch of whimsy. I think I've achieved my goal on the outside. At night when I drive up - the solar caps on the fence posts lining my driveway wink at me as if to chuckle about the house's new look. A neighbor stopped by last evening as I was watering my plants. She wanted to know if I just moved in the neighborhood. I refrained from laughing. I've lived here thirty years. She loved the girl pulling the cow and wanted to know where to buy one. Shhh. I'll never tell. I don't want to ruin the neighborhood with too much silliness. My house has enough for all to enjoy.

Below are some photos of what we look like with our facelift!

Street view

 

 

 

Garden Lady

 

 

 

 

One of five Knock Out Rose bushes

 

 

 

Lady on wall by front window

 

 

 

 

Crusty metal flower hung on chimney

 

 

 

 Front door - new awning

 

 

 

Back gate, outhouse shutters, hen house, and egg sign!

 

 

 

 

And just as you were saying, how tastefully whimsical - Elsie appears in front of my gas meter!

 

 

I think I'll stay put for awhile!

 

A Cozy Fireplace Mantel Can Warm Up The Bedroom

Antique tin ceiling tiles in old pink paint make up the center of the fireplace mantel.

 

 

My old bedroom had a huge amount of charm. When the sunlight filtered in the room, the apple green chest of drawers sparkled. Ice cream colors made for a happy room. One day I looked at all the sherbet colors and realized it was just too much. Too many odd pieces of furniture directly across from my bed. The green chest, an aqua book case, vintage hampers, and other sweet pieces appeared disjointed. I wanted something that was colorful, but restful. I sold most of the bedroom pieces to purchase the old chipped paint sea foam green Victorian mantel. I'd loved it for over a year in a shop in Monroe - then decided it would be the perfect piece to tie the room together.

 

The mantel had to be anchored above the baseboard. It looked as though it was floating in air. I took out my acrylic paints and added an 'extension' to the bottom, over the baseboard.
 

 

 

My old book case was placed before the mantel, but it didn't give the charm I wanted. A few months ago I purchased twelve antique ceiling tiles, in the sweetest old pink paint. I decided to fill the inside of the fireplace with the old tin tiles. I used my E6000 jewelry glue to adhere the tiles to the white wall. Tape held them in place while the glue dried. Next I cut one tile to place around the light switch. When all was in place, I grabbed my acrylic paints again and filled in around the tiles with grey paint to pull them together. Most had grey edges, but some of the white wall peeked through. A quick line of paint took care of that problem.

 

I put the book case in another room and brought in an old pink paint bench to place in front of the mantel, piled on a few books, a plant, and an old chippy pink paint watering can. I love the results.

 

Below are photos, before and after. I will post pictures of the entire room tomorrow.

 

 

The original look across from my bed. Just too busy.

 

 

Mantel with old bamboo bookcase. Still not quite right.

 

 

 

Mantel with old tiles and bench.

 

 

 

 

The finished product. I love how it turned out!

 

Something To Moo About!

 

"To laugh is human to moo is bovine."  Author Unknown

 

 

My old shop sign has found a new home! The reproduction tin sign of a girl pulling a cow is now on my roof.  The remains of black ink giving hours of operation have faded softly. I love the bit of whimsy it adds. 

 

 

The pieces of the puzzle for the outside of my house are coming together, but the final picture is not complete yet. Below are the parts that will make up the whole!

 

 

 

 

My Ebay purchase, en route as I write. Every cow needs a moon! or ten!

 

 

 

Sitting patiently to see what develops in the yard.

 

 

 

A large rusty metal flower waits to be hung on the house.

 

 

 

A vintage cement maiden dreams of the day she finds her perfect resting spot.

 

 

The cottage in my mind is full of whimsy and touched by beauty.

Rainy Day Pink

Available on Etsy. Link HERE

Pink with Audrey. A cure for the blues.

It's another dreary, cold, rainy day in May. Rain, rain, go away..... I need the sun. I worry about puddles.

All kinds.

My dogs refuse to go out. We know where that leads.

Has my basement filled with water again? My handyman started the French drain, it is a huge deep cavernous hole to be completed when the sun dries it out. Another setback with today's weather.  I see it filling with water, emptying into the front downstairs room. He says it will channel the water from the house, even in the state it is in. I am in a state of denial.

We'll see. That's all I'm saying.....

And my brain is mush from dampness in the air.

But then I came across this poster on Etsy. It made me smile. You can't be sad surrounded by pink. I love the saying too. I have kisses galore from six dogs housebound and cuddly on my couch. They make me laugh every time they wiggle. Perhaps I am burning calories! I am strong, I've survived the widow word and come out on my happy side. Tomorrow is another day, rain rain go away...

Today the pack and I will stay dry. It will be a great day. I am in the pink. My pink ceiling tins came in yesterday's mail. I have bought more pink for my house. I've spent money I shouldn't have to buy things I couldn't live without. Does that make me out of my mind decorating the cottage in my mind? My recent purchases. What do you think?

One of 10 antique old pink paint tin ceiling tiles that came from Ebay.

From an old Victorian house. Five feet wide and 29" tall. Headboard perhaps?

 Old pink paint dresser and mirror. Tin pulls old white paint. So sweet. Waiting for me to pick up in Statham, Georgia and bring home!

Instead of worrying about French drains today, I believe I'll dream of Paris. I wonder if I should Google French cottages? I do believe in miracles. It is a miracle I am not crazy yet!

 Available on Etsy. Link HERE