pink picket fence

{ holiday tour } The Kitchen

Part four of the slowest holiday tour ever!

I took photos weeks ago, started this post and never got around to words... so this one will be photo heavy and light on explanation.  At this point, who cares?  I will say that this year was the first with my new kitchen, so I did have fun with it.  In the past I really didn't want to draw attention to my shiny dark den-like space.

 The deer and ornaments were above my pantry on the right.

 I made some boxwood wreaths from the overgrown shrubbery in my yard and hung them over the stove, which now has the new section of cabinets above.  I cannot believe how different this space looks now.  (before)

The kitchen got the tall skinny tree that I've had for 12 years... it's so short that I prop it up on canned goods every year under that skirt.  This angle shows the (1985, free to me) black pedestal table that I painted black. The aluminum chairs and garage-sale-still-needing-slipcovers parsons chairs all fit nicely around it, and we could easily add another 4 narrow chairs around the sides if we needed to.  This works so much better for our large-ish family, friends and littles that are always in and out.

 

This shows off the new cabinetry in its entirety.  If I were to do it again, I'd have added lighting in the top cabinets, but I still love the extra storage.  (before)

From this angle, you can see the now-black secretary and hutch, which looks so much better as a stand alone piece.   I kept my original cabinet stuff up there and added a few ornaments and boxwood sprigs for Christmas.

 (before)

One of my favorite things was the glass jar with lights. 

If I had time to do only a few things, this would make the list.

I hope your holiday season was full of sparkly moments. 

(if you're curious about the kitchen reno, it starts here.)

{ holiday home tour} the living room

I know I said the kitchen, but it's a disaster. And the slipcovers aren't done. I'm thinking about taking those photos tomorrow, slipcovers or not.  For now, how about the living room?

This is the view from the entryway.  Yes, it's a fake tree.  I have had to get over this with all the allergics in the house, me included.  We deal.

Wait.  The door wreath is real.  That counts for something, right?

Last year I decided to move all of our red decorations to the basement and swap in some lime green, peacock blue, gold and white.  Our main floor is very light and I like it that way ... bringing in too many traditional dark colors makes it feel heavier than it needed to be.  The whites and blues were a welcome change.

The bannister is a combination of long-needle pine garland (that I got for a stupid good deal for $2 each and am kicking myself for not buying the case), cream burlap, and ornaments.  I have found so many at thrift stores in bags for $1.  Do yourself a favor and pop into a thrift store next November for decorations.  One of my friends picked up a 6' slim pre-lit tree for $12.  Stealio.

You can kind of peek into the kitchen in this photo.  I made those boxwood wreaths from the overgrown shrubbery in our yard. And there is a slim tree to the left of the cabinets.

The pink bag behind the couch is where my afghan lives when I'm not working on it. The bag was a gift from Beki last year.

I found so many glass (and plastic) balls that put them everywhere.  On top of candelsticks...

in bowls...

on the piano...

and even in a vase (with marshmallows) on my dresser. 

I've never added anything in our bedroom before but I like it.  We had a lot of vases left over after the memorial service in August.  I like that I can use some of the again.

The plastic snowflake was a thrift store snag. So were the cut plastic covered dish and the gold ornaments in the vase... I love it when that happens.

Decorating the house is something we did for the girls.  If it were just the mr and I, it would be difficult to get into things right now.  Setting up was a nice distraction and it was fun to use the same stuff in a different way this time around. 

The one thing I haven't been able to do is hang the stockings.  Fidget is begging me to, and my heart is so heavy.  We were supposed to add a new stocking this year. I go back and forth about what to do.

Enjoy your week, friends.  I know it's hectic and stressful, but I hope you can carve for yourself and your loved ones some time for peace.

xo

{ holiday tour } The Guestroom and the surprise appearance of an afghan

This is the slowest home tour ever.  My apologies... I've been preparing for company!

My folks are flying in later today, so this is already getting some use.  This guest room is in the basement.  One side of our house is walk-out level, so we were lucky to finish this room with bright full length windows.  Makes such a difference.

I got these three little linen trees thrifting last year.  They are perfect on the window ledge.

The afghan is a work in progress.  I'm using up my yarn stash (left over from the nursery's granny square afghan) on this king-width simple striped blanket that may take me the whole year to complete.  I've been adding a row or two every night since Thanksgiving as I'm watching shows with the mr.  It's ridiculously soft and I can't stop myself from bright pops of hot pink.  Some rows are single crochet, some are double.  It's completely random and I love it. 

 

Next up: the kitchen!  Which means I should finish the slipcovers for the chairs. Ahem.

{ holiday tour } the playroom

(Thank you so much for the sweet comments. That deer was quite possibly the best spent $6.  Local KC friends, I picked it up this past weekend at a west bottoms first weekend vintage mart event -- have you been there yet?)

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I thought I'd start the holiday home tour in the playroom because it is 1) pink and 2) clean.

It is also home to our pretty pink tree. The girls love it, and it really is the best showcase for all of the princess and barbie ornaments they have amassed over the years. The room faces the front of the house, so I was more than happy to put a tree in one of the front windows.

This is also the perfect spot for handmade art.  I love projects that showcase little feet, fingers and toes.

 

I picked up this little santa thrifting a few years ago.  He is busy flying around the world in his old toy truck.

The storage unit was a craigslist find last year.  Best purchase ever. 

I picked up Alicia Paulson's Santa Lucia dolls kit a few years ago, too.  These little girls make me smile every year when I take them out of the box.

You can kind of see the striped flat/satin wall treatment Ipainted when this was still an office.  This space serves us much better as a playroom, even if it is directly to the left of the front door and is usually a disaster.

The glow of a pink tree is totally, 100% like none other. 

Amen.

{ december }

I'm feeling quiet these days.  Words are a jumble. I'm keeping my hands busy by decking the halls and making cheer for our girls. Sarah suggested that I share a little of my busy-hands therapy, so I'm going to start a holiday home tour.

Unfortunately, my house is not photo ready.  So how about I tease you with two shots of new-ish stuff and just promise to be back later when the rooms are picked up?  Because that's all I've got.

(I picked up this little guy a a vintage market downtown yesterday.  He fits right in.)

The playroom has a cotton candy pink tree. It (and the tiny pink glass birds that I picked up at the dollar store 4/dollar) make me smile.

 

{ first }

Five years ago, The St. Louis Cardinals won the World Series on my husband's 35th birthday.  We had bought tickets and driven 4 hours to see them clinch the title.  I thought it was a once in a lifetime kind of experience.

It was.  Until the night of his 40th birthday, when they won game six in one of the most dramatic and exciting games in franchise history. 

So we bought tickets for game 7 and drove across the state, once again marvelling along with the rest of the world at how crazy it is that the Cards could pull it together this season.  (And at how charmed my husband's milestone birthdays are shaping up to be.)

You know the end to the story.  St. Louis won the game and the city celebrated. 

Freese will never have to buy himself a beer in that town.

There was much rejoicing.

It wasn't really about the game for me.

2011, you've been one crazy dramatic year.  I won't be sad to see you go, but Friday night was superb.  It felt so good.

xo

{ hello }

I have good days and bad days.  By good, it means I've had a day with few tears and plenty of smiles.  I see people and talk to friends and feel productive.  Meals are cooked and laundry is done and I check things off the to do list.

On other days I turn inward and it's not pretty.  The rest of the world has continued on with life and mine is forever changed.  I haven't yet figured out what the days are supposed to feel like. 

It's tempting to curl up in a ball under the sheets and just let it out.  I journal a lot.  I cry a lot. 

Today I went to visit the children's memorial butterfly garden for some quiet.  It was 70 degrees and sunny, a gorgeous fall day. Darcy's brick was installed a couple weeks ago.  It rests on a brick path surrounded by trees and native plants, just past a vine-covered arbor. It is a beautiful spot.

I sat on a bench and listened to the waterfall.  There were families playing at the nearby playground. The sound was bittersweet.

{ p.s. }

(This month I am also posting over at habit .)

{ love } the healing quilt

Thank you. Your comments and emails mean so much right now.

It's been seven weeks since we lost our baby and I am still going through the motions of daily life in a fog most of the time.  I have to concentrate just to remember what month it is. Or the day of the week. I'm already failing miserably with back to school deadlines and have what seems like fifteen alerts set up on my phone so I don't forget simple things like meeting Fidget at the bus after kindergarten or taking my medication. 

For one minute things seem better and then I spy a newborn baby girl or hear a song on the radio or smell something that would have turned my stomach while pregnant but doesn't anymore because, well, I'm not. And then I am plunged into the deep again, head spinning and emotions in full gear. 

I have also been moved to tears by the kindness and generosity of others.

While on a much-needed getaway with my husband on the Oregon Coast last week, my dear friend, Sarah, and her family met us in town for dinner.  We were staying at her family's cabin and I was already indebted to her for hooking us up with such a great spot at the last minute.

Not only did they make a 90-minute drive to have dinner with us one night, but she surprised me with one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received.  In the weeks since I had lost Darcy, Sarah and some of my closest crafty friends from all over the country had collaborated to create a quilt for me and my family.

Oh, the tears.

The word 'surprised' is totally inadequate.

So is the word 'beautiful'.

And 'thoughtful'.

And 'meaningful'.

Some of the blocks have butterflies -- in the print or in shape or, even, embroidered.  It was quilted with a butterfly pattern.  And our names are embroidered in the quilting as well.

As you can imagine, I am still overwhelmed by this generous and thoughtful gift. On the other hand, I am under strict direction to make sure this thing gets used, so I have it in my living room on the sofa for everyday use. Its presence is a gentle reminder of the love that surrounds and lifts us up. The girls are obsessed with finding their names in the stitching and it has already served to cuddle and nap, to crawl upon and hide under, as a tent and, today, as a giant Fidget Burrito.

Every time I open it, I notice one more detail.

The words 'thank you' are so ridiculously short of what I need and want to say.  I love this quilt.  I love the women whose hands and fabric stashes reached out to hug me the only way they could.  I still don't feel deserving of something so big, but I am so very grateful for their love.

Sarah has written a beautiful blog post about how the quilt came to be, and about blogs and friends and the universe. You should read it.

So, this post is my thank you to all of them.  My dear friends... Sarah Jackson, Jade Sims, Grace Snow, Erin Harris, Cathy Gaubert, Beki Lambert, Laura Capello, Lori Hanson, Alicia Alferman, Amy Harding, Michelle Needham, Emily Demsky, Sarah Brundage, Lisa Clarke, and Stacy Dinkel.  Thank you.  We love it.  I love it. 

The quilt also came with an original watercolor card painted by my friend, the sweet and talented Heather Smith Jones.  I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to have a third piece of hers in my house... you betcha I'm framing this one, too. 

It was quilted by Tillie Studio and I still marvel at how she got our names in there. Beautiful.

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I'm looking back through this post shaking my head.  It's not enough. I need to shoot each square and post them in my flickr album so you can see who made what and appreciate each block individually. Later today, perhaps, when the sun is out and the light is better.

For now, I have a date with Spunky, a cup of coffee, and a comfy spot on the sofa. 

xoxo.  Love is all you need.

{ missing } Darcy Jaye

This is a hard post to write. And it may be hard to read.  But I am at home today for the first time with all of my girls at school and I find myself alone.  Thinking.  Consumed and obsessed with needing to get this out and, at the very least, document this critical time for me and my family.

Just six weeks shy of our due date, heavy and miserable in the midwestern 100+ heat, I rolled over in bed one night and noticed someone didn't readjust herself with a few stretches and kicks in her little 'geez, momma, I was all comfy and now you flipped me over,' way like she usually did. 

And for the first time in 4 pregnancies, I got nervous. 

I got up and ate a spoonful of nutella.  Nothing.  Orange Juice.  Nothing.

What followed was a nightmarish visit to the hospital at 3am, panicked nurses and an ultrasound that revealed to parents their greatest fear.  No heartbeat.  At that point I lost it in a fit of what can only be described as primal screaming and sobbing. We had lost our baby girl with no warning.  Nothing.  Just the day before she had played with her sisters, kicking and punching them back as they tickled and poked at my belly.  She had danced a little jig with my morning half-caff coffee.  She stuck her little bottom up and out so I could really feel it with my palm.  She was head down and strong.

And then a stupid knot in her cord -- a knot no one knew about, and couldn't have --just got too tight.  And just like that, in one horrible accident, she was gone. 

I am not going to horrify you with the details of inducing a stillbirth when your cervix is not ready.  Or driving to the hospital with your husband knowing and not knowing what the next 24 hours will hold for you. She was born at nearly 5 pounds, with chubby pink cheeks and long fingers like her littlest big sister.  Short fuzzy blond hair and a button nose.  A perfect little angel taken much too soon.

I will tell you that the care and compassion that we were blessed to receive is beyond anything that we could have ever imagined. That the hospital staff at St Luke's provided the most gentle and respectful care imaginable. That my doctor showed such strength of character that I'd take her in to battle with me.  That my nurses grieved and prayed and struggled right along with us.  That our friends and family and total strangers stepped in as living, breathing, examples of true Grace and lifted us. 

It is during a tragedy like this when you see the beauty and generosity of the human heart and it is humbling.  We have not felt alone. We don't have anger.  Our hearts are heavy.  Explaining to a five year old that her baby sister is in Heaven isn't easy.  Getting back to school, emptying the dishwasher and doing laundry seem mundane and necessary and impossible all at the same time. 

We held a beautiful memorial service at our church and asked that no one wear black.  My daughters and I all wore white and the sanctuary was full of pinks and purples and blues and corals and light.  It was a 6:30pm service and the sun was beginning its descent through giant stained glass windows.  My amazing husband got up and poured his heart out in a beautiful message to our littlest lost daughter.  I don't know how he did that, but I love him even more now than I ever thought I could.

We sang 'On Eagle's Wings' and 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow', which is a song he has always sung to his little girls at night.

After the service, we asked everyone to join us on the hill above the church for a butterfly release.  There were a lot of children and it was wonderful.  We released 60 monarch and painted lady butterflies.  There were children everywhere -- trying to catch them, trying to release them, chasing after them.  It was a beautiful sight.  The day had been thundery and dark, but for that evening it had cooled.  The sky was turning pinkish and was glowing with that 7:30 glow that is happening this time of year.  Surrounded by family and friends and butterflies on that beautiful night, I felt a genuine Peace.  We all did.

(photo: Gina Ellerbee)

And now I sit.  My body is recovering from childbirth, but my heart is broken. I struggled with whether to post about Darcy, but I had to.  I have celebrated all of my girls here in this strange public journalish space.  My littlest deserves that, too.  We held our precious angel for 3 hours and kissed her fingers and toes and forehead and button nose.  She was beautiful and ours.  And someday I will hold her again.

Until then, we are comforted knowing that we have our own angel waiting for us.