The bedroom reads a little like this on the listing, but is way cooler in person. Mostly when our things get to be a part of the space rather than stuffed in storage. The color is matched to our dream wallpaper. But since the $150/roll pricetag of the beaded bird masterpiece did indeed only allow for it to be a dream, we stole the cool gray tone instead. In a shoebox in my closet, the paper sample and order number still sits. I told myself it couldn't be for this house, but would be for The House. We'll see I guess! It's hard to tell on my wimpy Point N Shoot camera (or maybe it's my sad excuse for photographic documentation), but the bedding has pintucks, silver gilding, and greek key patterns, Oh My!
The item in this picture I miss the most is the framed photobooth strip from our first exchange of "I Love You"
Wait for it...
AWWWW.
Here's Chris's tooshie in the crawl space, unloading the crap from the previous seven years of him having lived here. The crap went to storage, then we stored other crap there while we are For Sale. You know, things like 40lb bags of grout mix, holiday doormats, and 37 pairs of women's jeans that no longer fit, but hopefully will again someday.
I put winter sweaters INTO the storage space, and Chris pulled out 22" TIS rims. Which, if you know him, is a total DUH. I think it is endlessly entertaining-- mostly because there's eleven more just like it in the garage. I don't have a place to put my flip flops, but we somehow store wheels, rims, and oh yes, eight sets of golf clubs.
My favorite thing about Chris and I as a couple is how practical we are.
The notorious slate backsplash. We decided on this as our first project an entire five weeks into our relationship. The guy at The Tile Shop was all dude, you can do this in an afternoon. So we were all like okay, here's my credit card! To which he said, "coolbeans" and we wondered if we had stepped into a 1996 timewarp. Christmas, Valentine's Day, and Easter all came and went before this project was done. And there was only one minor electrocution of a human being during the course of the whole thing. Can I get a WOO HA?
My blog's namesake. This is the Plumage paint from Martha Stewart that adorns the entire basement. Chris and I squabbled over color, but at the end of the day, his only requirement was that the space be a clubhouse of sorts. We were at the Home Depot one afternoon for a plant tray or something random and lame like that, when I wandered off to the Paint section. We were supposed to be meeting his Mom-- who is a totally genius interior designer-- so Chris said WOMAN! There's no time for this! Let's Go!! HA. In my purse I managed to snatch a paint swatch from my favorite domestic savant. It was a no brainer. The paint went up, and so did endless photos, autographed hole flags, and teebox statuary.
The only regret I have about this move thus far is that upon deciding to sell, I quickly bubble wrapped and removed all of our personal items. I did so because it is a part of showing the house, but also because I didn't want our private lives to be photographed and put on a MLS listing at all. Ironically, the only personal item not put away by the time the realtor showed up today was this engraving. Even before a single Reach My Arm Out & Take a Picture of Our Heads Smooshed Together photo found its way into a frame, I had this made by an Etsy shop. It may not be on the Oak tree in the backyard, but I hope this goes with us wherever our lives take us.
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