the cons

Whenever someone asks you if you want to hear the good news first or the bad news, you always pick the bad news, right? Well, here's some of the "bad news" associated with the new house I've begun stalking. From here on out, it shall be referred to as the "pool house," which brings me to its first con: the pool. While I love the idea of having a pool--especially in Charlotte when we have 90+ days of 90+ degree weather--I am not loving the view of the green cesspool from the master bedroom:

However, it might be more sanitary to take a dip in the pool than shower in one of the two full baths (pictured below). My quasi-OCD and very clean self could hardly stand to take a picture of these abominations. Just thinking about the dead cockroach lying belly-up in the master bath is sending chills down my spine.

The telephone hanging from the wall in the master toilet stall is a nice touch, though. "Old people house" is what Alex said when he saw this:

I've never been big on basements. I find them creepy and a little suspect--someone's always hiding something in their basement. While I consider the basement at the pool house a con, it isn't the worst I've seen (or imagined). However, if we have friends over that are taller than 6'2", they'll have to do a lot of ducking. Alex just made the cut. 

Wood paneling...need I say more?

If you aren't too freaked out by the cons of the pool house, check back to see the pros.

my next victim

So this is it: the next house I've decided to stalk. I never realized I had such stalker tendencies until we began this little crusade to sell our starter home. Actually, that's not entirely true. In high school I sort of stalked a guy I had a crush on. I didn't do anything creepy like hide in his car to "surprise" him or anything, I simply memorized his entire class schedule--including daily trips to the locker--for the chance to brush by him in the hallway. So I would say my stalking is of the quiet, non-invasive type. 

Fifteen years later, I've channeled my stalking energy into inanimate objects (such as somebody else's home) and dragged my husband and two kids along for the ride. When the whole box house thing came to a head last week, I revisited my dream of renovating a mid-century home and asked myself, "What would the Novogratzes do?" (see here for more on the inspiring Novogratz family). "Buy the neighborhood, not the house" has been echoing in my head all week, and I've convinced myself that I'm up for the challenge of transforming a diamond in the rough. 

This house would be a dream to renovate. It has great bones, an even better plot of land and is located in one of the best neighborhoods in Charlotte. The cons? It needs way more than a coat of paint on the walls. I'll be posting more pictures later this week (don't worry--we actually had our realtor show us the house, so I wasn't just peering in the windows snapping photos). One thing is for sure: if things were to work out for us, I would have blogging material for the next five years or so...

By the way, I did end up dating that guy I "stalked"  in high school, so maybe there is something to it.

puking pumpkin

Alex thought it would be cute this year to carve one of those puking pumpkins he's seen on the Internet. It was good for a laugh on Halloween, but a week later the little pumpkin is starting to stink up the side porch. Oh, and we got a call today about a showing tomorrow morning. Just in case the prospective buyer(s) don't have the same sense of humor as my husband, I made the executive decision to trash the puker tonight.

In other outdoor news, I'm just happy Alex finally had the time to clean up the backyard. It's pretty sad and embarrassing when you see the before and after in pictures...yikes!

paint it white

Now that the box house is a dream no more, I've begun fantasizing about my next possible home--one that exists in my mind and from time to time materializes in Charlotte. It's a one-story, mid-century home with tons of windows, a great yard (possibly a pool) and is located in a very "desirable" neighborhood. Of course, in order for us to afford this home, it has to be in slight disrepair yet livable condition. We'll gradually renovate it over the years until it becomes the home of our dreams...and then we'll sell it and start all over again somewhere else.

The first thing I want to do to this house is paint the floors white. I'm a girl who loves color, but lately I've been dreaming in white on white. White floors accented by white walls and a white ceiling. Then I can go crazy loco with the colors I use in decorating this blank canvas.

My mind may change a thousand more times before any of these dreams become a reality--especially if our house stays on the market for another 18 months--but at least it takes my thoughts away from our currently cramped living quarters.

Interiors (above) by Vicente Wolf, images from New York Social Diary

Elle Decor

Metropolitan Home

Metropolitan Home

Domino

decor 8

you can't always get what you want...

Alas, the box house has sold. If you'll recall from my recent stalking incident, the front lawn had been mowed and the for sale sign had suspiciously been removed. Ever the optimist, though, I presumed the house was simply undergoing a little facelift to become more attractive to buyers (I even convinced myself that the fact I could no longer find it on MLS meant it was going to be re-listed--not that it had sold). After another drive by (and looking in the windows, and letting Catcher run around in the courtyard) on Sunday, Alex and I decided maybe it was time to check in on the status and contact the selling agent to see what the story is. The story is we're crazy stalkers and the house does not belong to us.

I would be more upset, but the truth is that I've recently been having doubts about the box house. Our house is quickly approaching the 18-month mark of being on the market, and it's made me think about how difficult it would be to sell the box house if we owned it and if we went to sell it one day. Although we think it would be our forever house, you never know where life will take you. If selling a cute cottage in a desirable neighborhood is this difficult, then I can't imagine the trouble we would come across selling a weird box house in a somewhat "fringe" area. All I can say is that everything happens for a reason and there must be something better around the corner.

Actually, I've already been scoping out my next victim--a mid-century diamond in the rough that needs a lot of work but is in a fabulous neighborhood. I've only seen it from the outside, but it's speaking to me...stay tuned...

comfortable chic

A couple weeks ago one of Alex's colleague's contacted me in pseudo desperation to help her turn her uptown (uptown in Charlotte means downtown) condo into a home. I met with her on a Saturday afternoon to check out the space and get an idea of her design style, etc., and it turns out that she inadvertently introduced me to a new style: Belgian Modern Design. When I asked her to describe her personal style and asked about her favorite furniture stores, she said her dream would be to outfit the entire space in Restoration Hardware. I immediately came home and began researching the "Restoration Hardware" style and came across Belgian Modern--characterized by neutral linen, little furniture, no clutter and warm-toned woods that create a setting that is warm, comfortable and lived-in. In addition, I read on the DwellStudio blog that this design style is about to take over America in way not seen since the Hollywood Regency movement. Thanks, Danielle, for showing me a new look!

p.s. Stay tuned as I track our decorating progress. Here's a closer look at modern Belgian:

Interior by Kay Douglass, House Beautiful

Interior by Kay Douglass, House Beautiful

Interior by James Huniford, Elle Decor

Interior by Sills Huniford, Architectural Digest

Restoration Hardware

Restoration Hardware

scary sunday

Remember when Halloween was fun? Not when you were a kid taking candy from strangers, but when you were older...like in college and during the single days of your early 20's. Halloween was an excuse to dress like an idiot and drink like an ever bigger one. I used to love Halloween; I loved the costumes and the parties; I even met my husband on Halloween. It was one of my favorite holidays...and then I had kids.

The pictures below may tell a different story, but Halloween 2010 was not the jovial affair it appears to have been. Before the "fun" even began, I had two screaming children on the front porch--one in the Baby Bjorn with a deafening cry inches from my eardrum and the other screaming "I don't want to wear this! I don't want to wear this!" while attempting to rip off his Huck Finn costume. Being the crazy parents we are, we soldiered on and forced the kids to have fun at the neighborhood parade (where we quickly realized we weren't the only ones dealing with a temper tantrum...phew!)

Scout as the happy little pig following a ten-minute scream-a-thon that left me a little deaf and a lot exhausted.

You wouldn't know by looking at him, but minutes before this picture was snapped, Catcher was a crazy person with tears streaming down his face. Hence, we weren't able to put the "finishing touches" on his costume, which included dirt and sticks.

The neighborhood folk gathering for the kids' parade. Now, I come from a place that knows a thing or two about parades, and I have to say that it was pretty lame. But at least the dogs got into the spirit of things (below).

There was pizza at the end of the parade to keep the kids happy, and Alex and Catcher sat down for a little man-to-man talk...

Meanwhile, the screaming baby had fallen asleep against my chest, and for a couple of minutes we looked like a model family.

Whoever ordered the fire truck to appear at the end of the block was a genius! After Catcher was allowed to climb around inside for a few minutes, he took a quick break to pose while standing on the rear bumper. The sheer exhaustion on his face tells you how we all felt at that moment...I can't wait until next year.