We've been named "the cottage girls "by our friends, who know us from our "Barbershopesque"shop aptly named "the cottage". To walk through its front door, is to fall in love with it, as we did a little over a year ago when it fell into our laps. Then we had no idea what a blog was, but have been persuaded to try our hand at it. So here goes. . .
From Linda: Looking back on my life, I don't know why it took me so long to figure out what I wanted to do when I grew up. I guess that's why they say hindsight is 20/20. After all, what was I thinking, a career in sports journalism?!
The groundwork was always there, right in front of my eyes. I am and always will be a nester. A "professional featherer" of sorts. For instance, in the fourth grade I painted daisy bouquets all over my newly painted yellow room. My grandmother was so impressed; she sprang for new yellow gingham bedspreads. That room made me so happy. And then there was the time my younger sister was getting married. I decided the exterior of the house needed to be spruced up with a fresh coat of paint. With ladder, paint and brush, I set to work, transforming the house with a new color scheme. Or was it the time my first college roommate wrote to me introducing herself. In my return letter I managed to work in the topic of home decor. Our room was positively charming and ended up being the room shown to potential students by school administration.
I love making surroundings more comfortable. I love taking items, preferably old, and finding new and different ways to use them. I especially love the hunt for the wonderful old things, but that's another story. No room should be a museum. You should be able to touch it, live in it and layer it with things you love that make you happy.
From Ann: You know how it feels when you find something that intrigues you? that inspires you to do something with it? That's what got me started. I could hardly wait to get up into my grandparent's attic when we visited. Then it was buttons in an old tin, vintage prom dresses with tiny waists, an old pedal Singer sewing machine, my Grandfather's WWII uniform and the way the light would shine in through the tiny attic window.
I, too, love to nest, surrounding myself with the simple charm of beautiful time-worn objects, soft vintage textiles, ironstone pitchers, still life paintings, an old stepback cupboard with layers of paint and great old hardware and on it goes (like a sickness).
Whether reviving an old piece of furniture with a fresh coat of paint or making a soft new pillow out of a vintage popcorn chenille bedspread and a fabulous old floral barkcloth remnant, it is so satisfying to revive well loved finds and it feeds my hungry right brain.
Together, twixt the two of us, our nest continues to grow and change. You're welcome to come visit it and rest your weary feet.
A Tour of My Parents’ House
1 day ago