Embracing the "Enough" Mindset

Apparently, there is a new home decor trend called the "Enough Movement."  I just saw an article about this (on Substack, I believe), and as I was reading it I realized that I've been way ahead of the curve on this one.  I had the "Enough" mindset ingrained in me long ago, very early in our marriage.

In a nutshell, here's what it's all about: homeowners are beginning to appreciate "homes that feel complete without constant updates."  They are resisting the urge to "constantly refresh, replace and renovate."  Instead they are embracing the idea of having a place that feels "complete, comfortable and fit for real life, not endless improvement."  It's all about "longevity over novelty and comfort over show."  I love this philosophy!  I love an imperfectly perfect house that has a history and reflects the personalities of the owners so much more than one that is so exquisitely appointed that it looks like it jumped out of the pages of a glossy home decorating magazine.

This, article, my dear readers, puts into words exactly how I've felt about home decor my whole adult life. This was partly because of financial concerns, to be sure (we couldn't have afforded constant home updates when we started out and were raising our five boys, even if we'd wanted them); but it was also because we were trying to be frugal: to feather our nest by doing paint touch-ups when necessary, adorning our walls with meaningful art and framed family photos, repurposing pieces of furniture as our family's needs changed, and purchasing new furniture that we planned (or at least hoped) would last us for years to come.  We were definitely in the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" camp. 

Don't get me wrong: I love a good DIY home project as much as the next gal (such as when my husband and I refinished our basement here in VA to make a giant playroom for our grandkids, or when we turned our attached two-car garage in NH into an awesome sports-themed man cave/mudroom).  But I'm uncomfortable with the idea of ripping out perfectly good kitchen cabinets that are still functional and well-made, for instance, just because they aren't the latest popular style.  In our renovation-crazed culture, this sort of thing has been very much the norm for a number of years now; but I guess the tide is turning a bit.    

Another aspect of the "Enough Movement" is the idea of "choosing contentment over constant change"--and I can totally relate to that sentiment!  I have trouble with change, that's for sure.  Once I grow used to the way things look in our house, and I know that my kids and grandkids have grown used to them, too, I have trouble making any big changes.  I think there's something kind of comforting about the idea of entering a home you've known for years and finding almost everything exactly as you remember it. Especially if it's a warm, cozy, happy home--and I truly do hope that that's the way our family sees our place.  (This past year, I had to change a damaged rug, a runner that goes from our front door into the foyer area of the house.  I tried to get one almost exactly like the old one, but it was just a tad different.  And our then 8-year-old grandson immediately noticed and said, "You got a new rug."  They notice the smallest changes, I'll tell you!)

We've been in this VA house for almost ten years now. And sometimes, I look at the half-bath on the first floor and wonder if I should spruce it up a little.  It really hasn't changed at all since we moved in.  (I wrote a blog post about this bathroom long ago if you want to fact check me on that!)

The former owners had freshly painted these walls before we bought the house, and I liked the sky-blue color they'd chosen, especially since I was planning to have a bird theme going on in here. (I'd had birds in the bathrooms at our old house in NH, where we'd lived for 26 years, and to make this new house feel like "ours," I decided I had to do so again!)   I did decide to paint some fluffy white clouds right off the bat, because I felt like that blue "sky" was crying out for them.  But that's the only change I made.

These are photos taken of the birds on our NH bathroom walls, before
we painted over them to get that house ready for sale.

To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of pedestal sinks.  I much prefer a vanity with useful storage underneath. But the sink in our VA half-bath is pretty, undamaged, and most importantly, functional; so until it isn't, I'm going to be content to keep it.  (Not long ago, I dropped an old toothbrush down the drain when I was cleaning it, and we couldn't fish it out; so if that drain ever gets hopelessly clogged, we may have to get rid of it one day, and in that case I'll get a vanity.)  I'm also not a huge fan of the mirror above the sink; I probably would have chosen one with a fancy frame if it had been my choice.  But this one has beveled glass, and it's a great size and is doing its job beautifully, so I just can't bring myself to replace it.

My husband loves to play around with ChapGPT, so for fun I asked him to go on there and see what this bathroom would look like if we chose to make it a lot more HGTV-friendly.  I told him to give it the prompt, "show this bathroom with pretty floral wallpaper, a wood vanity with a marble top, and a stylish new mirror."  And this is the result it came up with:

Okay, guys, I get that this AI-designed bathroom is much more beautiful than ours.  I know what good taste looks like when I see it!  But it just doesn't look like "us."  So I guess the sky-blue walls, the clouds, the birds, and the pedestrian sink and mirror are here to stay.  They are, as they say, "Enough" for me.  For now, at least.

What say you, dear readers?  (Be honest, I can take it!)

Reading this post over, I realize that I sound a bit judgy.  So I want to make it clear that what works for me doesn't work for everyone.  Some of my favorite people on earth are really into renovation and redecorating projects, which they see as an outlet for their creativity (in the same way one might enjoy hobbies like sewing, painting, or woodworking).  They love the process itself, because they get true joy from the work involved and the way the results make their homes more efficient and beautiful.  If renovation is your thing, more power to you!  If your surroundings don't give you a feeling of calm and contentment, then by all means, put your DIY hat on and get to work! (And if I ever decide to re-do that bathroom, I'll be in touch!)

Saints Everywhere I Look

I was sitting in my living room this morning, listening to the Hallow app, doing my morning prayer routine, and soaking in my surroundings with feelings of utter peace and contentment. Every wall, every tabletop in this room is decorated with reminders that our goal here on earth is to one day become saints in Heaven.

There are framed pictures of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary hanging above the loveseat, vintage prints that I discovered a few years ago buried in a box of paperwork in the basement of my husband’s a childhood home and was given permission by his siblings to take and cherish.  There is an icon of the Blessed Mother and Baby Jesus hanging above the bay window, a souvenir that my husband brought home from a trip to the Holy Land, back when he was working as an international commercial pilot. And there is a statue of Our Lady of Fatima, which he purchased on a working trip to Rome, up high in a place of honor in a corner niche. Not to mention a little brass sign that reads "Rosary Room," because this is the quiet place where we often say our Rosaries.

You might think that some of the framed artwork and photographs in this room have nothing whatsoever to do with sainthood or our beautiful Faith, but there you would be wrong.  There is a trio of lovely botanical prints on the wall above the loveseat, gifts from our oldest son and his wife.  But they aren't just special because they're beautiful to look at; these prints are from a shop which many of you Catholic blog readers will recognize,  Rose Harrington, and each of the five flowers depicted on each print represents a different mystery of the Rosary.  (We have prints of the Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious Mysteries, but the shop sells the Luminous as well.) There's also a sweet framed photo of my husband holding our newborn oldest grandson, with me peeking over his shoulder, emblazoned with a quote about the importance of grandfathers--a gift from son #3 and his wife.  Again, this picture reminds me of life's ultimate purpose--not only because grandparenthood is an unequaled joy and privilege, but because I'm confident that my husband, a man of deep commitment to practicing and living out his Faith, will be a saint one day. Hanging on the wall above the couch are canvas photo portraits of all of our grandchildren at age one, but again: I expect that these beloved children will one day be numbered among the saints.  That's what I think of when I look at those precious faces.

I have added a few saints to the mix this past week. On the little table in the bay window of the living room, I have placed small framed portraits of two heavenly helpers about whom I knew very little before they wove their way into my fictional stories but who have become dear friends to me: St. Gertrude of Nivelles (patron saint of cats, among other things), to whom I dedicated Marguerite's Diary; and St. Barbara (patron saint of field artillerymen), to whom I dedicated The Boy in Blue.  I also have a small framed cross-stitch image of Our Lady of Knock that means the world to me, for two reasons: because it was handmade by a beloved 12-year-old granddaughter and given to me as a Christmas present; and well, because that apparition of Our Lady took place in Ireland, and I love all things Irish (dontcha know!).

Saints everywhere I look, that's what I see when I sit in my living room.  [Sigh...]  Someday, I hope to see all of them together, in person--the great canonized saints and my own humble string of Pearls--in the glorious presence of Our Lord.

We're off to TN to morrow for a week or so, and I will probably be too busy enjoying my two wee granddaughters to think about blogging.  See you on the other side, dear readers.

Rules for the Living Room

It's the living room, but also fondly known as the "Rosary Room," a title we bestowed on our old living room back in New Hampshire (in the house where we lived for 26 years) and brought along with us to Virginia when we moved here in 2017. 

That NH living room was a lovely sage green, or leaf green--I'm not sure what to call it.  I painted it when it was still unfurnished (we couldn't afford to furnish every room right away, as we started out a bit "house poor" when we bought that just-a-tad-beyond-our-means dream home in late 1990, the beloved Colonial in which we raised our five boys and thought we might live forever).  I just really wanted a green living room, don't ask me why.  Then one day in 1994 when my husband and I were out grocery shopping at BJ's Wholesale Club, we saw a floral couch and loveseat set upholstered in fabric that had the same green shade as the walls of our empty living room, for only $600--and it was a decent brand, Bassett.  We bought it and we've had it ever since. When we first toured the Virginia house which we ended up buying, I was delighted to see that its living room was painted almost exactly the same shade of green, incredibly, which meant that my trusty couch and loveseat would look perfect in there.  It seemed like a sign that we'd found our new home.

I'm inordinately attached to that pink-and-green couch and loveseat set.  It's probably a little weird.  I suppose after all these years, I should be yearning for a change; but the exact opposite is actually true.  If we didn't have it anymore, I wouldn't even feel like it was "our" living room. Our youngest son was only a year old when we bought it, and he's now about to turn 33 and the father of two little girls.  At this point, I've developed a sentimental attachment to my vintage set.  Through all the years when it was considered hopelessly dated-looking, I continued to love it.  (On a side note: I've heard through the grapevine that couches upholstered in floral fabrics are making a comeback, proving the wisdom of the age-old advice that if you hang onto something long enough, it will eventually come back in style.) 

One of my daughters-in-law has expressed amazement that we’ve had the same living room furniture for 32 years, and she can't imagine how it didn't get destroyed with five boys living under our roof.  But you see, they never used the living room to jump around or roughhouse, or to play noisy games. There was no TV in that room, no video game player. No one was allowed to bring food in there.  Without us having to really say much about it, it was understood that the living room was a peaceful place, where we did things like sit and talk, listen to music on the stereo, and pray our family Rosaries.  Our boys had plenty of other rooms where they could hang out, where they could draw and play board games, eat popcorn while they watched a VHS movie, or whatever, and they didn't really gravitate to that room. For me, the living room was an oasis of calm, of peace and quiet, in a loud and sometimes crazy testosterone-heavy house.  It's still that way for me here in VA, but the difference is that since this smaller house we live in has a more open floor plan, the living room is not separated from the other living spaces as much as our NH one was.  So the grandkids often wander into this pleasant little room with food in hand and need to be reminded that it’s not an eating room.  They sometimes stand and climb (and have on occasion even begun to wrestle!) on the couches, and they need to be reminded that only sitting properly is allowed, and that if they want to play energetic games they should head down to the basement playroom.  

After all the Christmas festivities were over and our oldest son headed back to WI with his family, I gave the house a deep clean.  And in the living room, there was some evidence that Papa and Grammy’s rules had been broken.  Among other things, I found a ball point pen wedged between the couch cushions (it hadn't leaked any of its ink, thank goodness) and a half-eaten Oreo, a couple of M & M's, and a hard-as-a-rock chocolate chip cookie (so who knows how long that had been there!) on the floor underneath the loveseat.  I knew that one of our grandsons had brought paper, scissors, and scotch tape in there to work on a little craft project, on a day when I was too tired to object, and there were pieces of tape stuck to the coffee table. None of this is the end of the world, I know; but if I don't nip it in the bud, I fear that I will lose my neat and tidy, calm little oasis--and that my precious floral couch and loveseat set might eventually even need to be replaced (NOOOOOO!). 

So I went on Etsy to have a downloadable sign made up for the Rosary Room, one that I can point to if I ever see any grandchild bending or breaking the rules.

I don't want to have a house where everything is hands-off, a place that makes visitors feel like they can't relax; but I also want to make sure that the kids know that the living room is not the place for rough play and making messes—especially when there are other rooms that are more suitable to those activities. Do you think I'm being unreasonable?  I mean, we also have a cozy family room in this house, right next to the open kitchen, with a big TV, a gas fireplace, and baskets of toys and children’s books. And the basement was finished off with the intention that it would 100% be the grandkids’ domain; it’s bright and cheery, toy-filled, with another TV and plenty of comfy seating.  Surely it’s okay for the living room to be preserved as a quieter, calmer space?…And the rules are ones my husband and I actually even follow ourselves (although I might bring my morning coffee in there on occasion--but adults are allowed to drink their beverages anywhere in the house.  Age has its privileges, after all!).

Anyway, wrapping this up: I've waxed poetic before about my not-very-special but very-special-to-me couch and loveseat set here at the blog, more than once; I'm probably getting a bit boring, and if you keep coming back anyway, then God bless you.  I know I'm like a broken record sometimes.  But you're aware that old people just like to keep repeating the same old stories, aren't you?  Yikes, that's what I'm doing. Perhaps then it might be time to close up shop here for good, before I embarrass myself?!  (Too late? Ha ha!)

Before I sign off, I thought I’d share just a couple of the many grandkids-on-the-couch pictures taken in our living room over the past nine years that we’ve lived in Virginia. A Rosary Room rule or two was being broken when these shots were taken, you might notice.  But moving forward, maybe my pretty little Etsy sign will help?

You might also notice that the wall of canvas portraits looks different in those two pictures.  It's a constantly evolving project of mine, as grandchildren keep getting added to our String of Pearls.  By the end of the month, I’ll need to do a little rearranging in order to make space for a new canvas, as our youngest grandchild will be turning one and joining the gallery of cuteness hanging above the couch in her Papa and Grammy's living room.  I can't wait!

Okay, then, I'm not going to blog about my couches anymore.  Pinky swear.  You've heard enough about them, surely. But I may share more kids-on-the-couch pictures, because we always seem to be taking those when we have our family get-togethers at this house.  And while my stories may be getting a tad old, those precious faces of theirs will never get old (says their unbiased Grammy!).

To the Heights: Creating a Domestic Church in Your Home

This is the second post in a row with a title that starts out "To the Heights," but it's not like I'm going to make that phrase a trademark of this blog.  I just thought that it absolutely fit last time, when talking about ordinary folks who keep their eyes trained upward, "verso l'alto," as St. Pier Giorgio Frassati put it, striving to reach the top, the pinnacle--which is of course eternal life in Heaven with God.  And I think it fits today, too, when I'm planning to talk about how the home is the family's domestic church, and everything that happens within its walls should point its members toward that same goal of becoming saints in Heaven.

They say that when you're in Rome, you should always remember to LOOK UP!  When I had the extraordinary privilege of taking three trips there (during the later years of my husband's career as an airline pilot, using the free stand-by tickets that were a perk of that job), I tried to always remember to do so.  And I was never, ever disappointed!  The Catholic churches over in bella Roma are just spilling over with so much glorious artwork (masterpiece-quality paintings, gold leaf embellishments, gorgeous statues, ornate metalwork, and intricately-carved woodwork, so much to see everywhere you look) that truly, every inch is a feast for the eyes and a proverbial glimpse of Heaven on earth.  But sometimes, the most beautiful artwork of all is on the ceilings. I have so many pictures of church ceilings taken while I was on those precious trips to the Eternal City.

So often, those breathtakingly beautiful painted church ceilings include areas that are deep blue and dotted with golden stars, like a splendid night sky framed in a skylight window.  It's funny, even long before I ever got to see those ceilings in Rome, I had a hankering to paint the dining room ceiling in our house in NH, where we lived for 26 years and raised our boys.  But I never had the guts.  (And also--Michelangelo I am NOT!)  It never happened, but the desire to have a painted ceiling in my own home was always in the back of my mind.

There's no reason one shouldn't have this sort of ceiling in one's own house, is there?  

Anyway, last May, all of my husband's siblings and many of their spouses met up in Savannah, GA, to celebrate the 60th birthday of one of the sisters.  While there, we attended Mass at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist.  Oh my...have you ever seen it?  If you have, I don't need to tell you that it's simply magnificent.

And the ornate ceiling includes that element I love so in a church ceiling: areas that look like a star-studded night sky.  As you raise your eyes heavenward, you feel so close to Heaven!

Something about the starry sky thing just speaks to me.  You?

For some reason, looking up while we were in the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist got me thinking about how I'd always wanted to paint a ceiling like that.  As soon as we got back from that long weekend in Savannah, I looked at the dining room ceiling at our house here in VA and was like, Eureka!  It's a tray ceiling, and it had already been painted gray by the previous owners--so it hit me that one might hardly notice a change to blue. I realized that it was almost crying out to become my longed-for starry night sky!

Do you see what I mean?  That was how the room was painted when we bought the house back in 2017, and while I might not have chosen gray myself, I liked it enough to keep it as it was.  But now, in my mind's eye I could see the starry heavens up there in that framed middle section of the ceiling, and I could hardly wait to make my dream a reality.

I actually found a shade of blue called "Midnight Shadow," and I thought it was perfect.  I almost went with a more vibrant shade of royal blue, but ultimately decided that I wanted the change from gray to blue to be a tad more subtle.  Once I had the paint, I couldn't wait to get started!!

I toyed with the idea of stenciling the gold stars, but realized that hand-painting them would probably be way too difficult (and probably messy and disastrous!).  So I went online, and on Amazon I found some affordable self-stick gold stars meant for use on walls. 

 

Attaching the stars to the ceiling was a piece of cake.  But deciding on a pattern took a little more time and brain power.  And math!  I didn't want to just throw them up there randomly, even though that's what the real sky might look like.  I needed there to be some order to it.  I ended up using a yardstick to measure things out, and I made little chalk dots so I'd know where to place the stars.

This was early-on in the operation.

Eventually, it looked like this.

Sorry for all the pictures--I was trying to find the best one because none of them seem to quite do it justice.  It looks so much prettier in person...but you get the idea.

I am over the moon about this dining room ceiling.  I actually had a few pages of star stickers left over that I decided not to use, because I thought it looked "finished."  If I ever change my mind, I can always add more.  It's not exactly St. John the Baptist in Savannah...but this room is part of my very own domestic church (with stained glass in the chandelier, no less!  And a statue of Jesus in a niche in the corner!  And a Crucifix hanging over a picture of the Blessed Mother and Baby Jesus!).  And I love it.

When my husband and I moved here eight years ago, we left behind a large and well-built Colonial house in NH, situated on over an acre of land near the end of a quiet, wooded, cul-de-sac street.  It was a property which we tended lovingly and improved patiently,  DIY project by DIY project, over the years--a home where we happily raised our five boys.  But then all of those boys grew up and moved away, and it just so happened that three of the five providentially moved to the same area of VA.  So we did, too.  Our VA house is a good bit smaller than our NH house (but certainly big enough for two empty-nesters!) and located in a cookie cutter neighborhood, with a postage stamp-sized yard that's a breeze to take care of.  Some might say that we've taken a step down, going from the NH house to this one; but the funny thing is, I just adore this sweet little house.  It couldn't be more perfect for the phase of life we're in.  Obviously, it wouldn't have been an ideal place to raise our sons.  But it's so perfect for the two of us: small enough to keep clean and tidy, very cozy and comfortable, with a giant master bedroom suite that has a ridiculously oversized bathroom (I feel spoiled rotten!) and an upstairs bedroom that serves as an office, something we never really had in our old house.  And even though it's not the biggest house in the world, it somehow manages to hold all of our loved ones relatively comfortably for holiday parties, and we have three different guest bedrooms (one in the basement and two upstairs) set up at all times for our visiting out-of-town sons and their kids.  (Or for the occasional grandchild sleepover!)

I hope that when our our boys come here, they feel God's presence because of the way we have honored Him and His Son and the Blessed Mother in our decor.  I hope that they feel our profound love for them and their wives and children, too, as they walk from room to room, noting that aside from religious artwork, the walls are mostly plastered with framed family photos and meaningful mementos of our long and happy life.  I hope this sweet little cozy cottage of a house feels like a domestic church to them.  I know it does to me.  And as much as I loved--LOVED--those years when all five of our boys lived under our roof, I am feeling exceptionally blessed to have lived long enough to be enjoying these empty-nesting years with my husband now.  You start out just the two of you...then, God willing, you add the children...then they grow up and leave...and you end up with just the two of you again.  And if you not only love but really like your spouse, there's nothing at all depressing about it!  In fact, it’s a joy--a different kind of joy than when your babies were little, but a joy nonetheless.  Yes, the members of the family you created will come to spend time with you--often, hopefully; but it is your marriage that is the rock upon which that family has been built.  Cherish and nurture it.  And keep looking up to the heights! (If it helps, paint your ceiling to look like the starry night sky!)  Because the point of it is to help each other get to Heaven.

God bless you, dear readers!  Thanks for stopping by.

A “New” Chair for Oyster Haven

Greetings from upstate NY!

After a short stint back home in VA, my husband and I had to make another trip up north to check on our Oyster Haven rental property.  This spring we lost a chunk of our back yard, due to erosion from heavy rains.  We had to have work done to fill it in and shore it up, so that if it happens again we won’t lose our stairs that lead down to the beach.  (They’ve been removed temporarily but will be reinstalled when all is secure.) We waited to get this work started until our busy summer rental season was over.

My husband wanted to see with his own eyes how the construction project on the bank was going; but he had to make a trip back up anyway, because he still had to bring in all the kayaks and the canoe from the lake and get them into winter storage, as well as bring in the buoy and the dock.  Not to mention our pontoon boat, which has to get cleaned up and brought to the marina where it will be housed until next summer.  I was originally going to stay behind, because I’m an incurable homebody and I’ve missed being in my own VA house.  I’ve also missed our kids and grandkids who live nearby.  But the bottom line is that I belong with HIM.  I’m his helpmate first and foremost, and everyone else comes second.  Our boys all have wives now, so they don’t really need their mommy!😊

So another week by the lake it is!  And it’s been absolutely lovely here, weather-wise; it’s so warm and sunny—what we used to call an “Indian Summer.”  Just glorious.  As you can see.

In other Oyster Haven news…

Remember this somewhat recent post about how I re-upholstered my grandmother’s chair?  Well, I have another tale to tell about bringing an old chair back to life, with little more than a scrap of fabric (from where else but my mother-in-law’s attic, which is practically a small JoAnn’s affiliate, no kidding!).  And lots of TLC, of course.

Toward the end of the summer, I was thinking about hitting the secondhand shops or garage sales to look for a chair to put in the upstairs hall at Oyster Haven.  When we bought it in the fall of 2015 and started getting it ready to start renting on VRBO the following summer, we didn't spend a lot of money on furniture, aside from the beds.  We got bedside tables at secondhand stores and accepted a hand-me-down dining room table from my sister-in-law.  We had an awesome tile-topped trestle table that my husband had made for our NH house that didn't really fit in our downsized VA house, and he made a pair of glorious wooden benches to go with it for the kitchen of the rental house.  Some of the dining room chairs, a coffee table and a pair of end tables for the living room, along with a few other random pieces that we didn't have a place for in our VA house anyway, also found a home at Oyster Haven.

We were on a budget in 2015, so I ended up buying an inexpensive, nondescript little padded stool from Home Goods to fill this space in the upstairs hall, and it has been there ever since.

I must have been meant to get a new chair to replace that stool; because one August day my husband and I were driving back to his childhood home, where we stay during the summer, and out by the curb at the entrance to the neighborhood there were two dining room chairs near a pile of trash, obviously being thrown out.  And when we went to look at them more closely, one of them was in great shape, except for the fabric on the seat cushion.  (The other, a matching arm chair, had a hunk of wood broken off of it.)

After it was recovered, and cleaned up a bit, it looked quite lovely.

And I loved how it has transformed that upstairs hall!

(It would have been pretty, no matter the cost; but I especially love it when things are free!)

One quick addendum:I decided to recover the stool and bring it back to use in our VA living room.  It’s a small room, and we have a big family; so any extra seating that we can get—especially seating that takes up very little space—is appreciated.

Have I got enough competing floral patterns in my living room?  (Don't answer that!)

Have a great week!  And happy homemaking!

Grandma's Chair (Before and After)

I've blogged before about my paternal grandmother's Victorian mansion in a small Upstate NY town, where my family lived for about a year-and-a-half when I was a young girl.  The seven of us made a temporary home in one of the upstairs apartments that she rented out.  (We used to joke that our place had once been the servants' quarters; I'm not really even sure if that's true, but it made a good story!)

When Grandma and her second husband (my father's dad died when he was very young) took possession of the mansion, they found and rescued many pieces of antique furniture original to the house and had them refurbished.  There was a giant dining table and matching chairs that took center stage in the extraordinarily beautiful, wood-paneled dining room in the mansion.  When she eventually sold the place, my grandmother kept a few of her favorite items, among which were some marble-topped end tables and coffee tables and several of the ornately carved dining room chairs.  My youngest sister had been given two of the chairs after Grandma died and recently asked all of her siblings if any of us would like to take them, as she no longer had a place for them.  One of my sisters-in-law and I were immediately interested, so we each got one.  I just brought mine home from NY about a few weeks ago after a trip up there to get our VRBO rental house ready for the summer season.

While I was in NY, I "shopped" in my mother-in-law's attic for fabric to recover the chair.  (I've blogged about this before as well--about the treasure trove of fabrics and laces and sewing notions my seamstress M-I-L amassed in her lifetime, which I have been given the green light by her generous daughters to plunder at will!) I not only found some lovely upholstery material for my DIY project, but also some coordinating gimp trim.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Let me show you what the chair looked like after years of use, including when my sister used to strap a portable high chair seat onto it and her sweet granddaughter would kick away at the front of the cushion with her little feet.

The fabric on the top of the chair, front and back, had held up fairly well.  But the seat was in bad shape.

I could hardly wait to restore this chair to its former glory! To get started, I removed the gimp binding, which is used to cover up the raw edges of the fabric and the nails (and it's attached with glue, so it's easy to pull off).

Then I removed the fabric pieces, which I used as patterns for the new pieces.  (I was able to remove the upholstery nails, which are short and curved at the tips, and then reuse them).

I almost ordered some new blue gimp to match the lovely fabric I’d chosen, because I wasn't sure if I'd like the shiny gold stuff I'd found in Mom's attic stash...

Out with the old, in with the new!

...but I did like it.  A lot!

Oh wow, heart-eye emojis all over the place!!  I LOVE this look!

I didn't refinish the wood, but I cleaned it, and I also touched up the nicks and scratches with some wood stain I had on hand.  There were small traces of orange-red paint here and there, signs that perhaps some misguided soul had at one time painted over that glorious wood--AAAGGGHHH!  But I didn't remove them.  (I've decided that the flaws in the finish add to the character of the chair.  Yeah, character: that's it!  Ha ha!)

The most challenging part to fix was, of course, the seat.  My biggest roadblock to getting that done was finding the appropriate size and type of foam cushion to replace the old one, which was damaged and disintegrating.  I ordered one from Amazon, but it was 5” high—which was a bit much for this chair.  I ended up finding the perfect thing at our local JoAnn’s.  (There was probably some foam in my M-I-L’s attic, now that I think of it!  But I was too focused on finding fabric to notice!)

I put a new 2" foam cushion on top of the seat's interwoven support bands (or whatever they're called!).  I didn't take a picture, but you probably don't want to see that step anyway.  Just imagine a piece of green foam sitting on top of those strips of burlap.

Once the foam was in place, I set out to cover it with the fabric I'd cut out, using the worn-out old seat cover as a pattern.  I started by anchoring the fabric in place with a nail in the center of the back, the center of the front, and the center of each side, and then I proceeded to stretch the fabric as tightly over the foam as I could as I continued to nail it down all the way around.

The last step was gluing down the gimp trim all around the raw edges of the upholstered seat.

Within about four days of getting the chair home to VA, Grandma's chair was ready to be sat upon. I am thrilled with how it came out.  And I love having this piece that is such an endearing reminder of my grandmother and the wonderful old house she lived in for many years.

I have a lot of colors and patterns going on in my living room: a black and tan Oriental rug; a pink and green floral couch and matching loveseat; and now this chair covered in a blue and white floral print.  (Not mention another antique chair that I rescued and reupholstered many moons ago, using gorgeous brocade fabric in a red and green—strawberries and leaves—pattern.  So there's that, too!)  A professional home decorator would probably shudder to see what I’ve got going on here. Nonetheless, this room makes me very happy.

And in the end, that's all that matters, right?  A house should be a home that makes its owners happy; it need not be a designer’s showcase.

But boy-oh-boy, my grandmother's beautiful chair is a bit of a show-stopper, IMHO...

(So many photos!  Can you tell how excited I am about this chair?!  Moving forward here at the blog, I'll try to keep the photo-sharing under control.)

A House with a Heart (and a View!)

My husband and I took a road trip north this past Monday to check on our Oyster Haven VRBO lake house in Upstate NY. He put in the dock and the boats (we have four kayaks and a canoe available to renters, along with a couple of stand-up paddle boards).  He also got our pontoon boat out of winter storage at the marina and anchored it in front of his childhood home by the lake, which is where we spend our summers. Oyster Haven is only about 3.5 miles down the road, so it's easy for us to go back and forth.

We bought this incredible house (built circa 1830, with a later addition) in the fall of 2015 and opened it up for rentals the summer of 2016, originally thinking that we might eventually retire there and have it be our home base for traveling to see our far-flung offspring.  But when it became obvious that three of our five boys were settling down for the foreseeable future not far from each other in VA, we moved south to be near them in 2017, but continued to spend our summers up north by the lake.

We were encouraged by the real estate agent who worked with us on the purchase of Oyster Haven to make sure that it had some personal touches.  A VRBO owner himself, he said that it seemed that renters were more likely to treat a house with respect when they remembered that it actually belonged to someone.  If it was too sterile and impersonal, like a hotel, they might feel comfortable leaving it a mess.  We took that advice to heart, and I made sure to decorate the walls with some personal items so that it would look like a family home.

One of my favorite gallery walls is in the large eat-in kitchen.

The great thing about giving our rental those personal touches is that when we DO get to spend our week there with our kids and grandkids, it feels like HOME.  Oyster Haven is anything but cold and sterile; truly, it's a house with a heart.

Along with all the family pictures on that kitchen wall, I hung a vintage print by Jesse Willkox Smith, one of my favorite artists.  I thought the image of a curly-headed little girl eating a slice of watermelon was adorable, and that it just screamed "summertime!"

Years later, when I had a little granddaughter with similar blond curls, I made her pose for me with a slice of watermelon so that I could hang her picture next to that sweet drawing.  Unfortunately, this little gal hates watermelon.  So this was as close as I could get to having her look like she was eating it!

Anyway, I've gone off on a tangent--now back to the reason for our trip north: our first renters of the 2024 summer season will arrive in the coming weeks, and we wanted everything to be ready for them. Fortunately, all was well with the house and we didn't find any problems that needed taking care of.  We got everything on our to-do lists done and still had enough free time to enjoy an evening visiting with two of my husband's sisters who live up there.  My 88-year-old mother was also having same-day surgery across the lake in VT during our stay, and I was able to be with her and my sister (the one with whom she lives) during her time at the hospital.  So all in all, it was a good trip.

Before we left yesterday morning to head back to VA, we stopped at Oyster Haven one last time to drop off some freshly-laundered linens and organize them in the locked storage closets, so they'll be there for the cleaners to use on turnover day.  (We have a cleaning service, and they take care of everything when we're down in VA; but when we're living up there during the summer, my husband and I handle the laundry and bed-making.) The sun was just beginning to rise, and when I looked out the kitchen window I realized that I needed to take some pictures, pronto.  I grabbed my phone and ran outside.   

This was the backyard view from our deck that morning.

I couldn't decide which photo one was the most spectacular, so I decided to show you all of them.  Isn't that the most glorious view?!

I can hardly wait for the first week in July, when our entire family--five sons, five daughters-in-law, and 22 grandchildren!--will be there with us.  My whole heart will be in that house.  Enjoying that view.