You guys are seriously talented in the Naming of Longhorns. Gold stars for all of you, and something extra special for the owner of the name chosen. Yee-ha! Vote below for your favorite OR write in a new answer. If there are some significant new options, we’ll do a run-off on Thursday.
For the first sixteen years of my life, I travelled with my family around the world and back as a military dependent. I started and finished my career as ARMY brat in Ft. Hood, Texas. Oddly enough, when I think back on my five houses… well, they all look the same. The blue blanket on Mom and Dad’s bed. The Hummel figurines on the shelves. The ivory Corelle dishes with brown flowers. The oak coffee table with lace table-cloth. Most all of these things have been replaced over the years, but when I think about ‘home’ that’s what I see.
What will my kids see?
It’s only taken me seven years to believe I had some sort of personal ‘style.’ How do you transition gracefully from the stenciled kites of youth to the French posters of college to the metal signs of single adulthood? It’s tricky. No one teaches you how or when or where to buy grown up things. One day you turn 25 and realize you have acquired a bunch of… crap. Your previous roommates had all the good silverware and movies and you are left with the trash can, your childhood dresser, and some camping gear. Where’s the good, solid stuff? Where’s the stuff in memories?
You have to start somewhere. Our walls have been blank these past years… waiting for inspiration. The nesting bug finally got a hold of me when I was pregnant with Gideon and I began to put some life on the walls.
I hate for pictures to hang alone. It always looks naked to me. The yard sticks are all from family or special trips… and marrying them to another collection keeps my random buying at bay AND carries the primitive, sewing, folk theme throughout the house instead of quarantining it to one lonely display.
Michigan and Texas drawings (from HERE), framed in Hobby Lobby barn wood. I took a 50 cent embroidery hoop and some striped ticking fabric to make the heart for in-between. The yard stick is from Beulah, Michigan, near where we camp every summer.
Framed Psalm 96:12 (made whilst pregnant with Gus Man), more framed fabric in embroidery hoops, and a colored yard stick advertising vodka. Mmmm hmmmm.
Yard stick from Gramma Kluska’s closet. Crosses collected over time… from San Diego, from Curt, from Steph while de-cluttering for Spain, from a bridesmaids’ gift. The framed photo is a Cavanaugh print of Soldiers Field in 1949. They raced dirt track on Soldier’s Field! Wicked.
This display is not finished- I’ve got to make liners for the filing baskets (which are from Katie Brown for Meijer) and hang my hats above the yardstick, but I had to put it in here. See Gideon? He’s swiping my hammer in the 2 seconds I stopped to take this ridiculously poor photo. Punk Kid. He is why everything has to be off the floor and out of reach. The cubed yard stick is from North Carolina, and reminds me of Bec and Sunday and Jess and Annie and Becky and all the rest of you… every time.