The Pretty Parts

I have officially been living in my house for one entire month now. Everything is as it should be; I’m not behind on my editing, each room in my house has been painted and is decorated to perfection. I have a homemade dinner on the table each night by 6:30 and afterwards, I sit by the fireplace knitting scarves in anticipation of cooler weather.

I’m lying.

I have been living in my house for a month, but my belongings are strewn across every inch of every room, boxes are still not unpacked, only one room has been painted and I can’t afford decorations anymore unless I decide to forgo food for that week. Which eliminates that homemade dinner that I prepare each night…because I’ve always believed it’s more important to shop than to eat and well, I’m usually shooting cute little babies at 6:30 every evening. Which, really, is exactly what I love to do, so no complaints there.

I get asked a lot if I’m scared living in this farmhouse all by myself. I have no other way of putting it other than, well, heck yes. I’ve always been skittish, but I’ve also always been determined never to let things that scare me get in my way. So, I tough it out each night with my handy dandy alarm system and my ferocious killer dog. After a month, I’m slowly getting less petrified. That is until I hear the faintest creak and I’m sent spiraling into a pit of fear, absolutely sure that a man in a Scream mask is waiting on the other side of my bright yellow front door.

But I’m honestly getting braver. Last night I accidentally slept with my door unlocked. I survived.

And like I said, my house is a complete disaster zone and I’m ashamed each time someone walks in the door and witnesses this mini episode of “Hoarders.”  And if someone did want to come kidnap me in the middle of the night, they’d have to have superpowers to get over all the junk thrown all over the place. But, like any disaster zone, there are tiny pockets of beauty where everything comes together just right and actually looks kind of pretty. Here’s a sneak peek of the semi-pretty parts of the Culverhizzle. The parts that aren’t covered in dog fur, clothes, or dirty dishes.

The pig that sits by my door has extra special meaning. It was a gift from my dad who felt sorry for me after he dragged the entire family to the “Pig Jig” in Vienna and my fur vest got ruined by the stench of cigarette smoke and BBQ. Also, the adorable little plant in the red pot is my dear Thoreau, who I adopted from my Horticulture class at UGA. He’s the only plant I’ve cared enough about to keep alive for 1+ year.

The “STOP PEACHES” sign is probably my favorite thing in the house, other than Aphid. It belonged to Tom’s grandfather waaaay back in the day and I seriously melt each time I look at it. Tom found it in an old barn he was tearing down and propped it up against the side of a building where I came across it, cleaned it up, and babied it back to almost original condition. We’re part of a tight-knit farming community and I’m just filled with pride each time I look at it. Sounds cheesy, but it’s true.

My kitchen is the only room that’s been painted – our goal is one room per week. Well, the kitchen took two months. But it’s the most complete room in the house and I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out.

True to Pinterest style, I framed two of my Nini’s most famous recipes (in her writing): Strawberry cake and Vegetable Soup. The Campbells’ Soup cans are only seventy-five cents right now at Target. And the chicken tea kettle was a find at one of my favorite antique malls in Nashville. Eight dollars; can’t beat it.

Unfortunately, in 1910, they didn’t have washing machines, so my washing machine and dryer sit smack dab in the middle of my kitchen. You win some, you lose some.

I found the lace curtains that hang in my kitchen for $2.00 at Goodwill. The sunlight streams in through them each morning as I make my coffee and it’s just so gloriously beautiful that I don’t hate mornings as much as I used to.

Huge thanks to Bob Cochran, who gave me this old printer’s drawer to turn into a jewelry holder.

I also have really great neighbors. Sorta noisy in the afternoons, though.

I’d also like to mention that as of today, I’m {almost} officially booked up until Thanksgiving. Which, is simply incomprehensible to me. When I decided to move home to do what I love doing, I was beyond worried about not having enough business. I was terrified that I’d be unable to make house payments, be forced to move in with my parents, and have to sell my camera to afford gas. But the good Lord has provided and I’ve somehow been able to make the house payments, pay the bills, and thanks to my personal chef, Tom, I’m eating pretty darn good with a little money left over to spend on really important things like throw pillows, new lamps, curtains, rugs, and dried worms.

Why do I need mealworms, you ask? Because I have two new family members. Cully, the rooster and Loretta, the hen.

So, I’ll post the entire home tour in about 27 years, when I finally get enough time, money, and help to get everything how I want it in my little home.

And of course, I wouldn’t be alive without my better half, who puts up with my hissy fits, moves furniture until the wee hours of the morning, hangs pictures, hangs signs, hangs stars, builds chicken coops, mows my huge yard, plants trees, builds gardens, fixes everything that breaks, and never ignores my phone calls in the middle of the night as I’m crying and telling him there’s a murderer outside my window.