Sunday Afternoon

Sometimes, not often, the house will get oddly quiet on a Sunday afternoon. I always go investigate. And I love it when I find this. My sturdy little girl rarely slows down... rarely stops talking. It's so sweet to see that there's still a bit of baby left.

But check this out.

The baby sleeps with its eyes open!

Cue the eerie music......

The Patton House...Dwell Version....Part 2

Continued from The Patton House...Dwell Version....Part 1.

So, aside from the talking, the house moved right along. Matt did it all himself with the help of one other guy and some specialty subs. If you have ever built a house you know that this is no small thing. In Colorado it is especially difficult because of weather constraints. Concrete won't set below a certain temperature. Two feet of snow will put a hurting on your radiant heat plumbed slab. Mud season could push some people over the edge. The monsoon season is.....well, it's monsoon season. Even the word is ominous. Look at it..... monsoon.

But it all came together, and we moved into our 3,000 square ft. ode to modern design. (in mud season, of course) Everything about it was creative, but the MOST creative thing about it was the financing. We had built a half million dollar house on, drumroll please, on a credit card. At something like 1% interest. That was back in the day of free money. We had enough frequent flyer miles to take the whole family around the world six times. We could visit 'the voice' in Sao Palo. We converted it to a mortgage and settled in.

Sort of.

The views were amazing.
 

The sunsets were surreal. That's mystical Mesa Verde in the distance.

The staircase was a work of glue-lam art with a thirty foot drop to the basement. Has anyone seen Della?

And where are the boys? Up? Down? They have their own 'floor' now. But it's way too far away. I can't hear them breathing at night. And, excuse me, but where is the cleaning crew? And the landscaping crew? Oh wait. That's me.

"And, hey, where is my husband?" I'll ask 'the voice'. He might know.

"It'll take him every spare moment for years to tame this beast of a parcel." he said. "Have you noticed the rocks, the trees, the fences, the pasture, the driveway, the mud? The tub surround and the basement entry and the decks and and the stair rails and the trim and the tile and the concrete island and the closet systems and the drawer inserts and....

 I guess we would do this on the weekends after both having to work all week to pay for it all. It was totally doable. It really was. If our hearts had been in it, it was totally doable. But that is not where my heart was or is.

I don't overly give a hoot about my home. I do love to 'decorate' but my style is quirky and I had just as soon decorate a tent. Maybe it's the vagabond in me. I have always been drawn to the gypsy wagon.

from here

Long story short. A delightful couple from Atlanta moved to Colorado to be near their kids. They loved our house and bought it. And they did something outrageous and I know she was hearing 'a voice'. Not my guy, her guy. She turned our cantilevered, clean lined, modern home into a vintage, shabby chic, funky, country retreat. And I love it. Because 'the voice' is with her.

Not me.

We've built two homes and remodeled countless. I will not do it again. Someone else has built my future home, just as I have built theirs. I will be happy with their nooks and crannies, their floorplans, and their tile choices. We live in a rental in Durango right now. It's wonderful. I love the location and the neighbors and it's spectacular setting. I love the boulder by the back door that is twice as big as the house. The house itself is nothing special, but it is cozy and it has absolutely nothing to say to me. We spend our weekends doing whatever we want. Today Matt is hiking up Mt. Sneffels with his dad and I am taking the kids to Mancos to the hot air balloon festival.

We might just go and see Jama and Hardy, the delightful couple who bought the house, and watch it from their back deck.

It's the best view in the valley, after all.

And I can say 'hi' to him.

The Patton House...Dwell Version....Part 1

The house....unfinished....but the cat is already paying homage.

If you have never visited the website Unhappy Hipsters it's high time you did. It's over on the side bar under my favorite blog lists. Take a moment now and check it out. But do come back. It will make this post much more relevant.The gist of it is this. Modern homes seem to take on a life of their own. Separate from the architect, or the builder, or god forbid, the owner, they are their own unique entity with a personality and, horror of horrors, an actual voice.

One that speaks. Out loud.

I know. I've been there. For us it was a triple whammy. We designed, we built and we owned. That house screamed at me!

It all started with the land. A beautiful six acres on a hill with amazing views and darling little creeks and deer and peacocks. It was called Paloma. It caught Matt's eye and we looked at it. There were some small glitches...no water tap, no power, and a steep grade that made cutting a driveway just a tad difficult. A friend told Matt that he had looked at it, but that it was impossible to access the building envelope. We bought it the next day.

Water Tap? We bought one on the black market for a kings ransom. Power? Matt bribed an official. (not really, but it was arduous and ridiculous, and nerve-wracking.) The driveway? Don't tell Matt it can't be done. He told two of his friends with heavy equipment that Tom Whalen had said it was impossible to get up the hill and, literally hours later, they and their testosterone fueled egos were at the top. $15,000 dollars worth of gravel later, we were ready to go.

And let me say here, that it is sad when you are hoping for loads of gravel for your anniversary or Christmas. I think we gave Max a yard of concrete for his third birthday. And it was awesome! But that's a different house, a different driveway, a whole other post...

Now the task at hand was to design a house. Which we did. We ARE NOT the type to research and study and analyze and research some more. We are of the 'just do it' ilk.

Matt said that it had to be rectangular because of some site issues and cost efficiency.

We decided that we were in a modern mood.

And that was that. I drew it and we took it to a draftsman. It was to be our Dwell House.

It was three levels and cantilevered. There were more windows than not. Roof top deck. Why not? Yoga studio off the master bedroom. No one does yoga, but what the hell. (We should in a house like this.) Symmetrical rooms for the kids. In floor heat, sustainably harvested bamboo floors, passive solar design, a staircase to quickly end the life of an eighteen month old, a vintage bubbler by the back door, yada, yada, and yada.

We moved in before it was finished, which is again, another story.

And it started talking. I imagined the voice to be that of an elder statesman from somewhere in South America. Sao Paolo perhaps. That is to say that the voice had an accent. 

Of course it would.

"Do you think your grandmother's sofa is appropriate for this space?" it often whispered.

"Does that thing on the counter top have any significance?" it would ask. 

"That thing is the coffee maker and it's non-negotiable, Senor!" I would reply.

But inside I would be thinking, 'it's a stainless steel french press, for God's sake, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!?'

Sometimes it would say..."Would you please go to Toast and order your family some damn clothes!"

The voice was at times annoying and at times humorous. The details were often overwhelming and I'm not one to be vested in details, so it wasn't always fun. And, of course, all of this came with a price tag. 

" Excuse me, Madame, but where is the mint condition 1920's water fountain that you plumbed for in the mud room?" he asked one day.

"It's in queue on Ebay, jackass." I calmly replied "Can we use YOUR credit card?"

TO BE CONTINUED....

Click here to read Dwell House Part Deux

Inspiration

Zee Fox.

Holes where dish was mounted make this folk art...officially.

The other day I signed up for an e-course designed to turn my creative ideas into 'action'. It was offered by Tara Gentile of Scoutie Girl. I admire her boldness and thought that I could use a dose of it myself. I tend to get bogged down or redirected easily and good ideas or creative inspiration can slip right through my fingers. So, when I saw the offering for her free mini e-course, I jumped on it. Sure! I'll take any help that's being offered!

And guess what happened.

It worked.

But maybe not in the way that Tara had intended.

This is how it all went down.

On my sleek new smart phone, I signed up for Tara's course. It was simple...I typed in my email and it was done. I set the phone down, walked outside, found an old satellite dish that Matt had removed from the side of the house, primed it, waited a minute, and painted this fox. (he was inspired by one I saw somewhere on the internet...can't remember where)

"Wow! She's good." I said to myself. (referring to Tara, not the fox, as it's a he.)

And then the e-course emails started. They were dead on. Short, but concise. A daily dose of 'kick in the pants'! I felt like she cared. I grooved on what she was saying.

But the fox was done.

Hhhhhmmmm. Could this be about something more than zee fox? I sink maybe. (my smart phone would  be all over itself trying to correct those spellings..)

Could this be something bigger. I think yes. You see, there have been times when I entertained a vision of a more creative life. I love Art. I love Words. I worked for years with this amazing group of folks. I paint and I try to meet every day with my own brand of love and creativity. My brain is always churning and burning and how lovely would it be for my livelihood to be working in direct correlation with this. It would be a dream! That's what.

And a dream that I am pursuing. Look for new things around here. New offerings, a new site, new creative inspirations, and hopefully a laugh or two along the way. I am expecting your support. So there.

Tara says to state it, to take small steps, to say it out loud so there will be others to hold you accountable. And I knew all that, but needed to hear it from a stranger. Thank You Tara.

Back to Zee Fox. This dear little fellow is the first in a Five Fox Series. Lewis claimed this one right away and I was sort of bummed because I wanted it for the entrance hall. But he said, and I quote, "Mom, you are an amazing artist." And that just flat out wins it for him.

The tackiest and softest blanket on earth. Anything for my Tiggy.

The next four foxes are available for sale. They are $100 each plus shipping and they will be unique. I can't guarantee a satellite dish, but they will be painted on some odd bit of recycled material. They are alive and well in my head and the minute you say you want one he/she will begin to become a reality. It's sort of sad, but one of them only has three legs and he needs a 'special' home. Could be you. 

Let me know.

Sharon and Karen

Della has a little friend named Penelope. They are old friends, but they do not always jive so well. They are both strong willed and particular. Sometimes when I pick her up from playing with Penelope, her mother says that they were dreadful. Separately and together.

"Sharon and Karen?" I ask.

We both laugh. Let me explain.

At Penelope's school some teacher must have drilled it into her head that when we play with friends we  are sharing and caring. It became a mantra.

Sharing and caring. Sharing and caring. Sharing and caring. Preschool rules are like that.

But this is how it goes down in a real life play date with two assertive girls.

Della picks up Penelope's doll and starts to play with it. Penelope gets tense and wants doll back...now.

"Della, sharing and caring." she hisses

Translation...."Yo Hussy, that's my damn doll."

And she rips it out of Della's hands. Della rips it right back.

"No! Sharing and caring!" Della screams.

Translation....."Don't even think that I'm going to come over and take the @#$&! that you are dishing out!"

And they're off. It's a downward spiral and eventually we have to bail them out, but not before some serious good laughs. Lucky for me, Penelope's mom is one of my dearest friends and she seems to tolerate my warped sense of humor. Because not all moms would approve of me renaming their sweet little girl...

I affectionately call them Sharon and Karen.... aka... The Little Bitches.

hooray

Just a quick post to say that the Patton's now have internet at home!!! The Patton House is wired! So, it should follow, that you will be hearing from me more regularly.

And to celebrate let's all enjoy a picture of my little hoot. Look at those fat, strong, hands gripping that pot so surely. And in Georgia she had curly hair! Straight as a rod, now. The twinkle, the bubblegum tongue peaking through that grin...oh my.

Good Day Everyone!

back to school

I haven't been so present on this here blogspot lately and you can take that to mean that I have been fully present in my real life. All my babies started school Monday last and it was a BIG change for us. For the past two years they have been at a wonderful, small, Christian school that felt as much like home as a school can feel. We loved it and considered our friends there almost as family. Still do.

Last Monday they all started anew in the public schools. Della in kinder, Lewis in third, and my baby, Max, in middle school. I felt like I was throwing them to the wolves. Matt and I were on pins and needles. And I'm not sure why. The public schools here are good. On a national scale I think you could say that they are great. But Mama Bear does not give one whit about a national scale. Are my babies happy? Are they making friends? Is there a bully out there lurking? Are their teachers inspired?

I found myself standing in three new classrooms with my children. I stood behind them with my hands on their sweet shoulders and probably said some thing like this to their teachers:

"Hi, I'm Ivey Patton and this is Lewis. Where should we put his backpack?"

Inside I was weepy, but hopeful, and I was thinking something like this:

I am Ivey Patton and this is my Heart and Soul, Lewis. He is funny and smart and very shy and he was king of the mountain at his old school and doesn't know a soul here and I am aching for him and praying that you make this transition a good one for him....

or

This is my darling girl. She is a spitfire. Don't get mad at her when she digs in and stands her ground. She's not much for following the crowd and that's what I love most about her. Listen to every word she says and laugh with her. Kindergarten should be fun, not stressful, please have fun with my baby.

or, and this was the the doozy,

Hello Miller Middle School.  I am giving you my TRUE baby. Mr. Garland, Mrs. Teeter, and Mrs. Wynn, do you have children? Do you have a firstborn? So you know, I am hoping, what this means. Middle school is a cliche. It's where we begin letting go. Where bullies build their reputation and peer pressure tries to crack MY firm foundation. I am saying NO to that and I am sending you a solid, sweet, freckle faced redhead, who has nothing but high hopes for himself and for you. Deliver. Please and thankyou.

Jesus Christ.

Yes. I talked to him, too. And that was a great comfort.

On the first day I picked them up and was desperate to hear the verdict.

Well......they loved it. All of them. But still I waited for the other shoe to drop. The week went by too slowly for me and by Friday I was exhausted. Matt too. But the verdict held. They love it.

Lew comes home with facts and questions and has his eye on a little girl named Ellie. ( and I think this is dear....she has freckles and red hair! You would think he gets enough of that at home, but I guess not) Della has stayed on 'sunshine' all week despite all the new rules. She jokes that she got cloudy or rainy, but then says, 'no mom, i'm just teasin'. And Max. Wow. This morning he toted his violin, his kit bag for PE, and his six page essay that took him all afternoon yesterday to write and revise; he eagerly toted it all down the driveway and caught the early bus to take him to this new place that was so scary just a few short days ago.

 Life is good.