A Summer of Renovations

We are officially moved into the new house, and it already feels like home. I’m sitting in my new office, which is one of the three bedrooms in the house, looking out through the adorable cottage-style window (the type that opens by sliding up and has the white bands crossing over the glass). Every view from this house is of lush, deciduous trees. It’s evening, and the slightly cloudy sky has that darker blue glow, and the leaves are shuffling in a light wind. Already in our backyard, one of the trees has begun to turn, a few bright red leaves promising an epic North Carolinian Autumn.

I’m not ready for summer to be over, not by a long shot, but boy am I excited to be in our gorgeous picturesque house experiencing a proper east coast Fall.

We purchased the house late April, and it’s been a hectic three-and-a-half months getting things ready to for us to move. The house came with popcorn ceilings (thankfully asbestos free), and very outdated bathrooms complete with low shower inserts reminiscent of those that you find in motorhomes. All three toilets appeared to have never been cleaned in their lifetimes. I had lofty goals for the house that were quickly dampened when I realized how freaking expensive everything is (goodbye master bedroom balcony, an even sadder goodbye to guest bathroom reno, which was to include the sole bathtub). We spent twice as much as I expected, and got maybe half of the things done that we wanted to. Clearly, I was super naive going into this.

Luckily Chris has proven to be Mr. Homeowner, and has done a fantastic job of getting quotes, wrangling contractors, and keeping our renovations on schedule. We ended up removing the popcorn ceilings, adding recessed lighting, added pendant lights in the kitchen and a new chandelier that I LOVE, and completely redid the master bathroom. We’ve had to pick out lights, tile, fixtures, a vanity, granite for the vanity, a shower glass door, paint colors…the list goes on. It was both fun and nerve-wracking because neither of us are particularly savvy when it comes to decor and putting a room together. It became a lot of pick what we like, and hope it all comes together in the end.

With Chris shouldering the load of managing all the renovations, my one big job outside of emotional support was to pick a paint color for our new bathroom. I picked out a color after much deliberation. Chris took care of the painting to help save costs and did a gorgeous, meticulous job that spanned several long days and nights while I was visiting my family. When I returned and saw the painted product, dread set in.

I didn’t like it.

The color, which I thought would be a soft cream, picked up super yellow in the bathroom lighting! I said this to Chris. He told me, under no uncertain terms, to Get Out. Fair enough.

Now that the vanity, the mirror, the shower door glass and gold fixtures are in, the color is actually pretty perfect. It’s a lovely not-too-yellow cream that softens the space and adds some needed color.

I love waking up here. We are in a peaceful, well-spaced out neighborhood full of beautiful houses that each have a lot of East Coast character. Many of them have large front porches with hanging ferns, and almost all have the same cottage windows complete with the little white grills as our house. We surrounded by towering oaks and pine trees. Several mornings this past week, we’ve had a flock of wild turkeys pass through the front yard. We are waiting to see the bear(s) that come through, but none have turned up yet. Apparently they enter into the neighborhood (often on garbage day) from the green belt that runs behind our house.

At night it’s pitch black around the house. I thought I might find it a little unsettling, even creepy, as the house is a decent size and relatively unfurnished. The floors are hardwood and creaky, and with there is little to no light from the surrounding houses that shines on our lawns. But instead, it feels comfortable even in the dark. At night, I lie in bed looking at the stars that peek through dark silhouettes of branches.

It feels like where I grew up in Ravensdale. It feels like home.

Which is why I can start to feel the flutters of inspiration hitting again. Nestled in the forest, with the sunset peering orange through the trees, I’m starting to think about the next book again, The Wolf Queen. I’m well beyond my original goal to have it self-edited and off to my editor by July. But maybe I can still hit that goal by end of year!