This needs to be split in two parts; Inside and Outside.
I'll start with inside, since the outside part has to do with hellebores, and I feel you may be sick of them at the moment, or at least reading about them here.



At some point it became clear to me that this is actually my house, that I will live in it, that I am at liberty to make my own aesthetic decisions about it...and that it is not just another project that I'm managing for a client. Which means I can choose to have no shower, or I can choose to have a laundry shoot. So much at the farm has been about efficiency, moderation and synergy - the renovation on the house the same...I've had the attitude of whatever works, whatever is cheapest please god! until the other night when - and it pains me to say this but it's true - I uttered to eric:

"Do you want to drink wine and look at renovation blogs with me?"



He declined.

And I suppose I'd rather research garden stuff and let the house fall where it will, the detritus of our lives filling the corners eventually. It will be great, I know, regardless of whether I spend a few too many fruitless hours researching clawfoot tubs (predictable?) - resulting in a downward spiral of delusion: suddenly a salvage yard in Buffalo, NY "is not that far!" and minor cracking around drain is an "acceptable compromise!"

After all, early in the process we walked through the house with a copy of World of Interiors flashing it around each corner like a smudge stick and whispering words of encouragement.



There are a total of 4 rooms under construction right now. 2 bedrooms, one for Eric and me, one with bunks for Asheley and Deanna who can never marry or date too seriously, because there will be no room for significant others! A few weeks ago we were all there and I looked out the window up at the north field, the girls were out taking soil samples. They looked so small like little ants. I hope they stay around forever but at least long enough to see big real things happen at the farm.



I'm loosing my train of thought...There's a bathroom and a parlor where I will take my cocktail hour. My parents want to get rid of their piano and we're going to throw it in there, make it seem regal. I need to learn how to play the piano. Maybe I can find a teacher near Albany who will barter for flowers. Mom and Dad, when you come and stay you can have our room, and we'll sleep with Nea out in the yard, barking at the slightest noise, because it could be a dear fixing on my tulip bed...