you don't want to see this

Really, you don't.

Really.

Really.

Back story: when we moved to Minnesota, we took over two spaces in an empty building and connected them with French doors. There is still an empty space next to us that used to be occupied by another business. When you walk into the empty space, it looks decent enough. The floors are certainly in better shape over there than they were on this side of the wall.

There's even a glass block wall in the back.

But then comes the part you don't want to see.

Glow in the dark paintings. Of...

What? What are these? Anatomically correct butterfly aliens?

I'll take my floors any day, thank you.

See? I told you you didn't want to see it, and you didn't listen to me.

scenes from a yarn studio

I love my orchid accent walls.

I love my grassy green dyeing room walls.

And the rugs to wipe our feet on wet days.

And our little handmade yarn magnets.

And the little magnetic signs that show where to put all the dye containers.

But this...

... this makes me a little twitchy.

Boy Aaron tries to save me from myself by preventing me from having to go into the dye mixing room. "Wait, don't go in there!" he'll shout, trying to block the path. "What do you need? I can get it."

And to think I used to do this in my kitchen.

more on my new old house

I already have strong ideas of what I want to do in my kitchen, my upstairs bathroom, my bedroom, and the library.

But I need some input on the other three rooms on the main level of my new old house.

The main level is laid out in a unique way, with the dining room at the center. You have to walk through the dining room to get anywhere else, so it's important that the dining room color look good with everything I choose.

Here are some labels, for reference.

The dining room has a lovely chandelier, and I serendipitously found a bag of faceted prisms in a kitchen drawer that I'd like to use at some point.

In the dining room will go a round oak dining table with high-backed mission style chairs (the finish is like a cross between a walnut and a mahogany -- medium brown with a touch of red and gold). I also have a beautiful antique hutch that I bought at an estate sale for a ridiculously cheap price. (Awesome discovery: antiques in this area are about 1/6 of the price of vintage stuff on the East Coast.)

You can also see that the dining room has plenty of light from the surrounding rooms, but no windows of its own.

I want to paint the dining room a shade of brown that is not beige, not taupe, not mushroom, not mocha. Something a little richer than that, something warm. My thinking is that a brown will look cozy at family dinners, and will also not clash with my plans for any of the other rooms.

I need suggestions for the shade of brown.  Brand of paint doesn't matter -- Benjamin Moore, Behr, Sherwin Williams, etc. I can get the color matched. Remember: warm, cozy, inviting, not beige. Something in the medium-dark range.

I know the library will be a viridian green.

I know that I just found a green and white floral club chair that I want to put in the living room. Leafy green on a white background.

I know that my couch is a camely-tan.

I know that it's cold here much of the year, and that I don't want any colors that are too icy or too tropical. With nine foot ceilings, huge windows, and hardwoods, I'm concerned that colors that are too pale will look washed out by the bright sun, and that colors with too much grey will be depressing in the winter. (The less depressing your house is, the better, I'm thinking? Yes?)

I know that I'm more comfortable with color in my home than the average person is. My studio would be blindingly bright for some of you.

I know that my favorite colors are blue-greens, green-blues, blue, green, brown, and pink.

What colors should I paint the living room and family room? I'm trying to think of the main level of my house as a colorway, with a medium/dark brown, viridian green, jade-ite green, and now I need two other colors that don't look too juvenile or ridiculous.

(I love purple with brown and green, but don't think I can do bright violet on the walls of my living room.)

 

The family room was an addition to the house -- perhaps in the 1980s. It needs some TYT = The Yarnista's Touch. I have no idea what that is, I just made it up. But the room definitely needs it.

Indoor cedar shingles. Interesting.

Should I paint the beadboard in here white? If so, what color should I put above it? Should I paint the ceiling beams magenta?

Just kidding.

If you read this far, here comes the good part:

I will give away a $25 gift certificate to anyone who can help me pick a brown color for my dining room, and who can offer a winning suggestion for the living room and another for the family room. (Three prizes total.)

You can enter as many times as you like.

Leave the links in the comments section.

Think about the main level in terms of a colorway -- everything has to look good together, but not necessarily match.

Nothing even remotely close to beige.

Warm and inviting.

You have until Friday, June 4th, at noon central time to send in your suggestions. If I use yours, I'll send you a gift code.

Go forth and swatch surf!

Sometimes good things happen to good people.

Take me, for example.

I've experienced my share of difficult times. I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I worked two jobs to get through college. I spent twelve years teaching public high school. I've had loved ones die suddenly, been through trying family times, and borrowed trouble from tomorrow when today's troubles were more than enough. Just like many of you.

And I've also turned around and seen the writing on the wall, the writing that was never apparent when I needed it to be, but that time and experience illuminated. Most often, the writing looked like an outstretched finger, marking a direction that I didn't want to take but did anyway, not knowing it was going to someday be for the better.

Yesterday was one of those days. One of those days when you feel like the universe coalesced into something good, something good for a good person.

Yesterday a realtor quietly slipped me the keys to the house I've been dreaming about for fifteen years -- a bright, inviting old house with gobs of natural light, hardwood floors, a yard just begging to be gardened, and the type of quirky charm that you just can't find in houses built after a certain time.

Sometimes good people do get to move back to their hometowns, open a yarn studio and buy a house five minutes from Grandma.

The purpose of this post is really two-fold: 1) to tell you that sometimes good things happen to good people. If you're about to give up hope, don't. If you spend all your time thinking you can't catch a break, stop.  If you're borrowing too much trouble from tomorrow, knock it off. Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow.

I also want to tell you thank you.

Without all of you reading this and supporting my little endeavor by buying yarn from me, none of this would've happened.

Is this getting too mushy?

Here, I'll distract you with some pictures.

This is my new kitchen in my new old house as of today:

I ain't no fool, I've got three kids. It will never look this clean again, I know.

I should frame this picture and hang it on the kitchen wall or something.

But starting tonight, this kitchen is going to change. I can't abide by the beige walls, I just cannot. Even though the cabinets are brand new, they're going to be changed, too. The wreath on the right? It's going bye bye.

Here's another view:

My kids call these the secret stairs. They go up to what had to be the maid's bedroom once upon a time. (I've informed my boy that he is going to have to be the new maid. You sleep in the room, you clean the house. Right? Of course right.) On the right is the back entry way, which has a lovely coat area, with lots of hooks for handknit scarves, hats, and mittens. Of which we will need plenty living here in the frozen north.

At the top of the secret stairs is something I need your help with.

What is that little window? It goes into the maid's bedroom. The window appears to be original to the house -- the glass is old and wavy. If the window were for light in the hallway, why not put one at the top of the stairs? (It's an exterior wall, after all!)

Here's a view of the weird little window from inside the maid's room:

Why is this window here? I'm dying to know. Any ideas? There's also a fireplace in my unfinished basement (original to the house), but that's a story for another day.

My house has an extra room off the dining room that was probably a parlor at one time, but that we're going to use as a library. I can't tell you how happy this makes me. I love libraries.

I'm going to put a daybed in front of the windows, paint the room a deeper shade, deck it out in books, and spiff up this old fireplace:

Coal burning, at one time. I think it needs a more substantial mantel, don't you? Someday.

I can't wait to pass a winter Sunday snuggled in my handmade knitwear, reading a book on the daybed in my library.

While my children scrub the kitchen floor and prepare a small assortment of baked goods for my teatime.

The thing I love about this house is that we can enjoy it today as it is, and we'll be able to enjoy it more each year as we fix it up, stamp our personal (colorful) touches on it, work magic in the garden, and watch our babies grow. As they are wont to do all too quickly. I am certain that my youngest child was born about a year ago, and she informs me that she's three. How is this possible? Tell me.

What have we learned today?

1. Don't give up hope -- sometimes good things happen to good people.

2. You need warm clothes in Minnesota.

3. Y'all are the best peoples in the worlds. All of them.

4. Old houses are quirky. I intend to get quirkier with age, how about you? (A friend's mother said to me yesterday: "Just wait until you get old, and then you'll get a really weird sense of color -- you'll be painting your bathroom bright purple!" I did not tell her that I already intended to paint my bathroom dark pansy purple.)

5. Yarnista's son is her maid.

6. I hate beige. I am missing the beige part of my brain.

7. Children of all ages grow too quickly, and try to lie to their parents about their ages.

I will be sure and update you with more house pictures and on how my kitchen progresses in the next week. Move-in day is seven days away!

P.S. Thank you again for everything.

Whew!

Many, many club packages were shipped today. Many many.

It was a good day.