Respect....the story.

Lessons....

We teach our kids lessons all the time.  How to be kind.  How to be honest.  The consequences of not doing what they should have done....like homework.  These are all lessons that as adults we get..we have been there done that.

The other day I was at an auction.  It was a GREAT one!  There were pieces I really wanted and I bid to win.

Victorian dresser with square nails......the antiquity and craftsmanship is lovely

I can get kind of geeeeeked at an auction.  If you have not been....well the energy is palatable. You can taste the competition.   I talk about this obsession in one of my posts...http://joanniedoors.blogspot.com/2012/05/hunt.html

Dont worry...I am not going to add more layers of paint...this guy needs to be stripped..cant wait to see what is under all that paint.

There was a sweet little victorian dresser that had great lines.  It was heavy and it needed me.  As I marked it I heard a conversation in hushed tones behind me.  I tried to ignore it but it was hard too because it was about me.

each drawer has a lock and key............sigh

The little dresser was at auction because a family was liquidating their grandmothers estate.  There was a gal on the phone from across the country who despiritely wanted that dresser.  She remembered it from when she was a child and could not bare to think of it being sold at auction.

This is how you know you have an old piece....always check out the back....thick solid barn type blanks....

I froze.    All these treasures were obviously someones at one time.  That is the whole point.  The idea that things can be repurposed and reused and loved again.  But the heartache...the memories that are infused into the table that you had tea at with your beloved grandmother.  The dresser that held the hand mirror that belonged to your mother.  This is real ....the stories are inside of each piece.  They maybe dusty or covered in layers and layers of old paint...but the stories live on in the treasures and in the hearts of those that loved them before.

Dove tail.............stay tuned on this one...it will be for sale ...Most likely $350, but I need to see how much fun I need to put into it.

I was taught a lesson at auction.....one that intuitively I thought that I knew.  But I really didn't.
So...I want to thank all those old pieces that I have repurposed and loved on....thank the folks that kept them so that I could do what I love....and thank the customers that always become friends for keeping the story going.....it is humbling and i promise to RESPECT THE STORIES......always.

Change is in the air.....

Fall is a favorite time of year for me.  The sun looks different..less intense and the colors are calming ..like things are getting ready to slow down.

Everything has a glow about it.

The kitchen is full of warm smells.  Everything seems to be getting closer, snuggly, more relaxed.

  I kiss my kids more...random hugs.  I dare say that I even linger while folding clothes...to see how much they have grown and neatly tuck their t-shirts in their drawers.  Marveling that each one of them is a gift.  ....and then I trip over the  lego box...but the moment is still precious.


This move has been an awesome gift to me.  Some moves like the last are proving grounds..we already talked about that one... but this one has landed me  in an inspired space.  My love for decorating and junking has been renewed. 


This house has a unique floor plan.  The master is on the main and I have never had that before.  It has been a challenge and I have pulled all my color mastery to determine how I wanted this new space to feel.

I am working on a color palette.  I want this house to feel like a French Cottage, relaxed and elegant.

I have had some help....and I can not wait to share with you.....

Slippery little suckers......

Oh, I wish I was a little bar of soap, bar of soap
Oh, I wish I was a little bar of soap, bar of soap
I'd go slidey, slidey, slidey over every-body's hidey
Oh, I wish I was a little bar of soap, bar of soap.

I loved that song as a girl scout.  It had a great little rhythm and it was good clean fun....haaaa, get it..clean..WOW!  

I like to talk to my kids.  They are funny, intelligent and nice to be around.  They tell me about their views on life.  How they are feeling and what they dream about.  I let them ramble...on and on.


 I have to admit.  Sometimes I dont care for the topic or what their views are on somethings.  But I listen.  I think sometimes they need to hear their own voices saying somethings out loud.  To really hear what they are thinking.  There is sooooo much more to think about today as a teenager.  

The World is smaller.  Social media brings things into their lives that we never had to deal with.  It is normal and healthy for teens to question.  They need to. 

 It is one thing for us as parents to tell them how it is and it is completely different when they experience it for themselves.  It is insanely hard to not jump in and steer them clear of pain or heartache.  But what would that teach them?  What tools would I be giving them if I always gave them the answers or prevented an outcome?  How will they learn?

This is where the slippery part comes in.  I equate raising teenagers like holding onto a bar of soap.

The harder you squeeze the faster they are going to slip right out of your hands.  Choose your battles.  Keep your heart and your head level...open.  It is too easy to squeeze them......to try and control what they feel ......and it hurts.  It hurts us as parents when our kids turn on ideals and traditions that we as parents have held.  It doesn't feel good to let them find their own way.  Its scary as hell.....

We love our kids so much that holding onto them tightly seems like what we are suppose to do.  That pushing them into the way we do things makes sense because we've already done it.  We know what works.  Its logical.  We don't want to see them make mistakes.   Mistakes.....hummmm?  Perhaps the best way to look at that is as opportunities. Opportunities to teach.  Opportunities to show by example what being a Christian looks like.   Opportunities to see that not everything is done the right way but simply "a" way.   That our kids can teach us too.

There are too many broken hearted teens that dont feel heard.  They dont feel understood, like an alien in their own homes.  The emotions that are running through our kids are valid and real.  When they say they are in love.  ITS LOVE!  When they say I am sad.  LISTEN!  When they cry...HOLD THEM!  Get into their beds and cradle those 160lb 6'2" teens......they need us....now more then ever because soon they will be slipping right out of your hands.