The Magic-Maker

Today's a big day in our world, and we'd like it to pass by noticed. Remember a few months ago when I told you we were, with a million qualifiers, putting in an offer on a lot? Well, that happened. And then several more things happened, and a few more, and then we arrive at today.

Today is the day that this empty lot....

...begins the progression towards this not-so-empty house.

And we're stoked.

"What have these goons been doing for the last four months then?" you may be asking yourself. Oh, raha.

Sullivan Brothers markets their homes as "customizable." They probably understand that as this: "Please, by all means, make a few tweaks." We, on the other hand, heard this: "Go ahead and redraw the plans entirely." Ok, then, I accept your challenge and raise you a guest house. To that end, we've spent the last four months redrawing, repermiting, redrawing and repermiting. And we're finally there. The dust has settled and my crazed red pen has been put down. Here we go! (Mario Cart, anyone?)

Goose and I have known from the beginning that we wanted professional help in undertaking this project. Our sanity and our jobs demanded it. Mostly my sanity and his job. After much research, we landed on Laura Dalton of Laura S Mitchell Interior Design. She's been with us almost from day one. She's been amazing. So, so amazing. She listens to my crazy, filters and edits, and spits out a realistic version of said crazy. It's pretty much like magic. She's also not afraid to tell me when my Goose's ideas suck.

Laura and some of her beautiful work.

In classic me-style, as soon as I have a concrete plan in mind, I am obsessed with it. Couches and wallpaper and landscaping and guest towels and staircase spindles and curtain boxes are all I can think about. I wake up in the night to count throw pillows in my mind. So, I've been in full-out "Let's decorate the new house!" mode, much to Goose's terror. And terror beware, because this past weekend was Round Top, the greatest show on earth.

 

Off to the races....

This fair happens twice a year and is ranked as one of the top in the country. I will move hell and high water to make sure my weekend is clear every six months. This time, I tricked Goose into coming with me. I was immediately regretting my decision when he vetoed me thirteen times within the first six minutes. And that's when I called in Laura, the magic-maker referee.

We spent the day texting her pictures of our "finds." She spent the day editing the crazy and talking me down from the "But I neeeeeeeeeeed the eight-foot tall painting of a 17th century Dutch man named Charles" ledge.

Here's Charles....and upon second glance, I'm sad he didn't come home with us. I mean, look at him...what a stud.

Post-edits, here's what we collectively came up with:

My Men Friends

These are the start of a collection of antiquated old men portraits. They're both over 150 years old and the canvases look like they've seen a fight or two. We'll be looking to add several more to the collection for a wall in one of the guest rooms. (And Nin and Monique, as the two most likely guestroom dwellers, you do NOT get a vote. The old men are staying. Just close your eyes and pretend they aren't there.)

Goose's Men Friends

We bought a collection of the Vanity Fair Gentlemen series from the late 1800s. Our initial thoughts were that they would go in the library, but I think they're cool enough to warrant main-house status. And, yet again, that's where Laura comes in. Thank goodness for the magic-maker.

The Dog/Lady/Native American Chairs

The carvings on these chairs are what sold us. Your guess is as good as mine as to what they actually are, but my bet is on the Dog/Native American combo. The dealer, who was very French, reminded me that Native Americans are, alas, American and most-decidedly not French, so I was probably incorrect. What the little French man doesn't know won't hurt him.

The Waltzing Duelers

The purchase of the day (century?) goes to these awesome English dueling swordsmen. They're 17th century instructions on how to properly (and gentlemanly) conduct a sword fight. And they have pointed toes and amazing variations of blue/green/turquoise dress, so how could we possibly say no? And to top it off, the dealer was a Mississippi man whose accent was music to my ears. And he was wearing a massive 1980's gold chain, so, um, obviously.

Thus ends our gold-house-in-a-nutshell update. I promise these will be few and far between. Unless, of course, they're not.