House Plans

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We’ve been planning to buy this house for two months now. Would it surprise you to know that I’ve laid out every piece of furniture in my mind? That every wall is painted the perfect color, every kitchen and bathroom tile is laid and my future backyard is a relaxing retreat with a fire pit and outdoor grill? Well it is! In my mind I’ve also won the lottery.

Buying a foreclosure is a first for us, so we are trying to limit the things we want to do to the house so we can afford the things we HAVE to do to make it livable in these first few months (or years). Though it is structurally sound, the perimeter of the house is outlined by ant hills. The driveway is covered by a canopy of overgrown tree limbs. The child who lived in the house prior took time to write her name (or someone’s name) on the walls. Someone kicked in the bathroom door in the hallway. 

But I digress.

We’re still in love with it. Brass fixtures and all. Should you come and stay with us this summer, bring your work gloves. I’ll find something for you to do.

Bonus: At least the front yard landscaping is already done.

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We’re moving!

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Gosh, just typing that made me tired. Here we go again.

I’m most happy to say we are not leaving east Tennessee. We’re barely changing zip codes. We found a perfect house 11 miles down the road and have been eager to get our hands on it. It’s a foreclosure (read: lots and lots and lots of work to do) but we got a good deal with a great interest rate. The state of the house is marginal, but we are lovingly calling it “2,700 square feet of potential.”

Here is Captain Rex making his way inside on Inspection Day.

Posts might be few in the next couple of weeks, but you understand. We close in a week and packing is underway. Is it just me or haven’t I done this before?

I heart Mad Men

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So we jumped on the bandwagon a couple of months ago and started watching Mad Men.  At first I wasn’t sure I could swing it, especially at the end of the first episode and you realize Don Draper isn’t exactly who you thought he was. Still, we carried on with each episode appreciating the clever humor, outstanding set and costume design and the uniqueness of the story.

I must say that every time I hear a man call a woman “Sweetheart” I want to punch him in the mouth. In fact, like a pendulum, I go back and forth between wanting Don Draper to succeed to wishing he’d get a swift kick in the pants (in the front of his pants, to be exact). Nearly every episode leaves me feeling schizophrenic, either loving the characters like they were real or thinking they’ve all lost their minds.

Except for Peggy. I adore Peggy.

Anyway, you can’t watch the show without being influenced by its composition. For the first three seasons I think I oohed and awed over Betty Draper’s entire closet. (Chuck was busy eyeballing the decanter sets.) Last night, I lost time on AMC’s website, specifically on the Mad Men Yourself page, creating my Sterling Cooper avatar.

Yes, I know how nerdy that sounds.

We’re finally on to Season 5, so no spoilers please.

I call Summertime.

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The good news is that we have met the legal requirements for completing a full year of homeschooling. The bad news is that Jeremy still has a couple of days left of work. (Jackson is finished.) Since my brain has already left for summer vacation, we’re taking Jeremy’s last few days of work less seriously. He knows he needs to finish, I know he needs to finish, but whether he finishes today, tomorrow or Friday is irrelevant to me. I’ll turn in attendance and grades in a week and we’ll officially be done. Thank goodness.

We’re still going to study conversational French this summer but we’re taking a break from anything useful until mid-June.

However, on Saturday I started talking to the boys in a little basic French, teaching them how to say, “Excuse me. Hello! My name is so-and-so. And you?” We were sitting under a magnolia tree on the campus of Maryville College at the annual Highland Games. Chuck was in the dining hall for a whisky tasting so the boys and I chatted in French while we waited. They got a kick out of hearing me and one another speak another language. Jeremy did quite well and Jackson giggled through all of it. I was so amused.

The Highland Games were extraordinary! We missed them last year because of Chuck’s travel schedule so we were sure to go this weekend. This area is rich with Scottish heritage, so we were wide-eyed at all the kilts and bagpipes. When Jeremy asked why the men wore skirts, we were able to ask a real Scotsman about it – his name was also Jeremy, so that was a little bonus.

Out of all the activities, I wanted to see men in kilts throwing heavy things, like logs.

My little men looked quite handsome for the games.

By the end of the day were were sun-kissed and worn out. We’d perused the tents, watched sheep herding, and enjoyed traditional Celtic music. From any standpoint you could look beyond the tree line and see the Smoky Mountains. It was yet another day when I took a moment be thankful for living in such a wonderful place.

Where the love is

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There I was, putting away the Frosted Mini Wheats while Jeremy ate his vanilla yogurt, when he announced, “I think I’m gonna get a girl when I’m 16.”

“What?” I asked, turning his way.

“That’s when I’m gonna get a girl, just like you and dad when you were 16,” he said.

“Get a girl? You might not want to say it like that. You sound like you’re gonna catch her in a net or something,” I teased.

“Yeah, I will,” he perked up. “I’ll catch her love.”

“Well that sounds nice. You can take her to dinner and get to know her,” I said.

Jeremy took another bite of his yogurt, then said, “I think the heart of the heart is where the love is.”

“The heart of your heart?” I repeated.

“Yeah, that’s where the love comes from,” he snickered. “I just made that up.”