Monthly Archives: August 2015

A photo blog of home decor

A old friend of mine used to chastise himself each time he made a comment that was so obvious, he might as well have not said it at all. He would call himself the “Master of the Obvious”. At risk of being called that myself, I’m going to make a statement that is so well-accepted, it doesn’t need to be stated. A home purchase may be the best thing ever for the economy.

Everyone knows this, of course, but I don’t think I fully realized it until our recent home purchase. I am magnetically drawn to Target, Home Depot, Consignment stores and decor shops in a way that causes me to feel powerless. I have acquired more home objects in the last 2 months than I have purchased in my entire 49 years. It is frightening.

I hesitate to admit all this, and I’m sure Kevin is beginning to fear the number of unidentified objects which keep surfacing in his home. The only rationale is that there is some kind of gene in our DNA that makes us feel compelled to buy and arrange objects in a new space. You see a little of this in the car business, certainly. People who want the Lexus key-chain or hat or car care kit or window tinting after a vehicle purchase. But most of that is functional, less of it is personalization. With a home, though, it is a economic whirlwind, a vortex of cash output.

I will not embarrass myself or bore you with a list of the pillows, sheets, towels, and standard home fare in which I have indulged, but I will remind our gentle readers that my new home has 3 bedrooms and 3 baths, so whatever most people purchase with a new house, I’ve done it times 3. Nor will I regale you with tales of new granite counters or house re-painting. My focus today is on decorative (ie: non-essential) items only. So here is a short tour. Enjoy. And to all the local businesses who were the beneficiaries of my spending-you are welcome.


Purchased at Art on Broad, Downtown Augusta


The kitty clock and kitty sculptures I already had. The platform has a cool weathered look. Found it at Clementine Gifts on Baston Road


Pretty sure the ‘vase’ is actually part of a kitchen canister set I found at HomeGoods and bought when I was madly acquiring anything I saw in that color blue. Flowers from Pier One. Arranging I did myself.


I liked this unique picture frame. Photo only stays up thanks to that small round magnet. Purchased from Clementine Gifts on Baston Road


Silver dish from HomeGoods. They hit the big time with their large assortment of blue and beach-y looking decor.


Another dish from HomeGoods


Small dish from Art on Broad, downtown


Blue glass orb from Art on Broad downtown. One of my favorite acquisitions. Hoping the cat doesn’t knock it off the dresser.


Kitchen needed a little decorative work. Visitors who know me will realize that it is for display and not for cooking. Williams Sonoma.


Artwork at a consignment store. Dropped it after I got it home and had to take it to Frame Shop for repairs. LOVE looking at it, especially against the Salty Dog Blue wall.


Another piece from Art on Broad. I’ve moved it 10 times but it currently resides on one of my mantles. It looks good anywhere I put it, but I like it to be where it can shine on it’s own simplicity.


My facebook friends will recognize this composition, but it is the 4th version of the bookshelf by the fireplace. The “Happy Place” sign was a gift from my brother-in-law. The wine was, sadly, purchased for decorative reasons only.

Homeowner with a capital “H”

I have never been what you would call a very domestic person. I earnestly expressed disdain for anything that could be construed as “bric-a-brac” and could not feign interest in drapery or nice furniture. Words like etagere, sconce and valance were not a part of my vocabulary. (I’m not entirely sure I know what they mean now.) If friends or family talked about matters of the home, my eyes would glaze over or I would excuse myself from the room to play with the pet cat.  All of my spending impulses revolved around shoes, music, books and travel. I never had the need for landscaping skills, and my cooking skills have trended on the rudimentary side. An independent girl who married late in life, I never imagined I would live in any abode much more significant than the quaint and simple townhouse I purchased with Kevin when we were still dating.

Kevin, however, always had a different plan, and as a result, everything has now been completely flipped upside down. Kevin aspired to purchase a larger, newer house with a yard, one that we could own forever. He started saving for this goal almost as soon as the boxes were unpacked in our little townhouse six years ago. Carefree and oblivious, I lived my life as I always had, spent money as I always had, and grew comfortable in the small space we shared with the cats and the Sprout. This past Christmas, one of my family members asked Kevin how he planned to spend all of the Lowe’s and Home Depot gift cards he had received, and he casually mentioned that we would be buying a new house in 2015. While I had been focused on staying blonde and fashionable, Kevin had paid off our debt and collected a sizable nest egg for our transition to a house with a capital H.

A short six months after Kevin’s holiday announcement, my life morphed into one I had never before imagined. All of my excess income is now devoted to bric-a-brac. I walk around our new house, and walk around again, rearranging items, enjoying the wide terrain of open space, admiring the accoutrements I have rabidly accumulated in a frenzy of spending since our offer was accepted. It’s a shock to the system to never need or care about interior design, and then suddenly become obsessed with it. My google searches have gone from “Jimmy Choo spring line-up” to “upscale modern design”. My phone is filled with images of decorating ideas, many of which I have implemented with moderate success in the new House. I haven’t yet spent time on Pinterest, but I see it as an inevitable result of wanting to make the new space one we will be proud to show off.


I insisted on “Salty Dog” blue in the foyer and Master Bedroom. Kevin was a trooper and agreed.

Other Homeowners tell me that my quest for the perfect home “will never be done.” That depresses me slightly, as I want it done yesterday. When we moved in, I instructed the movers to put all furniture in designated rooms, and all other items, including boxes, in the garage. The entire double garage (my first) was filled to capacity, shoulder-high, with only narrow walkways in which to navigate. It looked like an episode of “Hoarders”. I wanted everything that went into the house to be placed thoughtfully and neatly, and the house to always be immaculately organized. The garage-to-house unpacking was the only way I knew to do this, and I would come home from work each day and arrange items, one at a time, until I was so exhausted that I couldn’t move. It took me exactly one month to complete, 2 weeks ahead of my self-imposed schedule. At that point, I could park my dream car in my dream garage. Life was becoming surreal.


“Before” picture in the garage.


LIG B gets parked snugly against the garage wall every night.

Since unpacking, I have worked room to room, tweaking and re-arranging and cleaning and planning. I love this Home in a way I never thought possible. I love caring for it, sitting in it, adorning it, and talking about it. In the same way I did when I first started driving my dream car, I almost have to pinch myself to believe that it’s real, to grasp that it is ours. (See blog When You Finally Own Your Dream Car ). I think back to the sometimes-selfish, superficial girl I once was, and wonder how this quick evolution occured in such a short span of time. Suddenly, I can never find time or money to update my blonde highlights, and my shoe collection sits neglected on the organized shelves. I don’t talk about grand trips in our future or drop triple-digits in the bookstore. And while the cooking and landscaping skills have not yet been developed, it seems reasonable to expect that these activities will be a part of my new future.


My aversion to bric-a-brac has dwindled, now that I actually have places to put decorative items. Glass jars filled with sand, shells and twigs was an idea stolen from the internet.

Kevin says there are no more surprise major purchases in our future, no more shocking Christmas announcements, and I’m thankful. This one is as satisfying and transformative as I can handle. Now, would someone please explain to me the difference between a valance and a sconce?