Believe it or not, Allie is sitting on the floor.
This was the wood floor before it was laid. And now to the good stuff…
Ten Things about Our New Home – in Fake Band Names:
1. The Mystery Switch (alternative rock)
There is a mysterious switchplate on the wall just outside the bedroom. We’ve tried everything to figure out where the electricity leads, but to no avail. Even our seasoned home inspector couldn’t figure it out.
Maybe it moves the town home into another dimension, like the island in LOST. A $50 gift certificate to Home Depot goes out to the person who can correctly identify how the mystery switch is intended to be used. We have no clue.
2. 45 Degree Fireplace (college radio rock/Butch Vig side project)
Yes, we have a fireplace! And it’s on a 45 degree angle, which looks really nice in the living room.
3. Screenhole (heavy metal)
Some of our metal screens in the windows need to be replaced because they have holes.
4. Evenflo (Pearl Jam cover band)
Cyrus’ Evenflo (brand name) excer-saucer is currently the centerpiece of our living room. Not something you might see on HGTV.
5. Hardwood (Jersey Shore bar band)
We installed almost 2,000 square feet of hardwood throughout the home. We chose select red oak with a red chestnut stain. The first floor has the wood going on a diagonal, parallel to the 45 degree fireplace (scroll up to see pic). We were very pleased with the results!
6. Rejuvenate and Applesauce (All-girl pop band)
These are the names of the colors in Cyrus’ room. Rejuvenate is a light green, on the sage-y side, but less blue; Applesauce is a warm, punchy yellow. Duh.
7. The Four Phones (English mod rock)
I went to the hardware store and went crazy – purchasing four phones for the home. One for the (finished) basement, one for the kitchen, one for the living room, and one for the bedroom. So far I have not found an actual phone jack in the living room.
8. Foxgloves (funk-pop band produced by Prince)
The color formerly known as Foxglove is the shade of our accent wall in the master bedroom. It’s a pale, soft purple. Allie and Billy (our painter) kept mistakenly calling the color “foxgloves” in plural, and all I could think of was a fox wearing little, tiny gloves.
9. Heat Pump (1978 tight pants rock ‘n’ roll)
Our heating system is electric and we have a heat pump that circulates warm air throughout the home.
10. Highest Peak (gospel choir)
Our town home is a modified A-frame, so the roof peak is quite high. The highest peak is in the master bedroom, and it took some major skills from the painter to get the color perfectly into the top corner. Hallelujah!
Stay tuned for some before and after pics. They will wow you!
I’ve entitled this blog entry “Hello Connecticut” as a (weak) follow-up to my Farewell Letter to New York. I got so many unexpected responses, so here is an encore post for your reading pleasure:
Dear New York,
I first caught a glimpse of you on TV. In your old movies, maybe I saw what I thought was you – an impostor of you – as a set on the movies Auntie Mame, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Plaza or Barefoot in the Park. Or perhaps it was during a Sunday morning replay of a classic Woody Allen film. Or maybe I was moved by watching that old Simon and Garfunkel concert in Central Park or the kids of Fame dance in the streets of Manhattan. Your iconic presence was all that I needed to heed your call to what I envisioned as the ultimate destination for artists and bohemians across the world.
We met in the early 80’s, first on a family trip to your Goddess, the Statue of Liberty (even though I know that She’s really on New Jersey soil, but as a fellow Jersey Girl, I let it slide.) I listened to your voices; first through the music that my mother listened to: Barbra Streisand (from Brooklyn) and Barry Manilow (from Manhattan) and once I developed a taste of my own, through Cyndi Lauper (from Queens) and The Beastie Boys (from Brooklyn).
The love affair from afar continued with another family trip to you, New York, as a teenager. We stayed at your Plaza, ate at your Serendipity and played in your FAO Schwartz. I even got my new nose in Manhattan with your Dr. Sherrell Aston.
I knew I was destined to live in one of your cities when I received my acceptance letter from the Fashion Institute of Technology. At age 17, with the blessing and support of my parents, I packed up and left to be with you, New York. Goodbye Jersey!
Boy, New York, we had so much fun together! We went clubbing all over town, you and me, New York. We enjoyed live music inside your lounges and outside at your parks. We went to all sorts of rallies and protests; we fought for women’s rights and clean air. We visited art galleries and museums, and then we combed the East Village and met the real artists. We got a job with a celebrity photographer. We worked backstage at second rate fashion shows, we worked as a photo stylist and makeup artist, and we raised money for non-profits for the better of our community by calling your people and canvassing your streets. We became volunteer staff for Earth Day 1990 and built a human wall in Central Park. We joined Wiccan covens with Jewish girls; we befriended Born Again Christians, Buddhists monks, and Catholics who converted to Judaism. We tried to get our Jersey friends to come up and convert to Manhattanism. We hung out with patchouli-smelling, barefoot Deadhead hippies outside the Garden. We painted an unsolicited wall mural inside someone else’s rental in Brooklyn Heights. We did all sorts of crazy things. We met people of all walks of life; our common denominator was our love affair with you, New York.
In the late 90’s, I finally got wired as you introduced me to the Internet. I met people “on-line”. Approaching the 2000’s, my girlfriends and I joined all sorts of dating websites, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s where several of us met our future husbands – including me. In 2001 I began a ladies’ underwear company in Manhattan with my designer friend. It was my work as a fundraiser, however, that awakened my desire to take my jobs seriously, and I carved out a career as a tried and true development professional, eventually becoming a director at two non profit organizations. I got married in your city and moved to your suburbs. I gave birth in one of your historic towns.
New York, you were my Factory, my life’s movie set, my soundtrack, my foundation, my inspiration. I never thought the day would come when we would part ways; I cherish the memories we share, New York. I will never forget your wild energy, your unstoppable growth, your cyclical reinventions, your boundless creativity and your eternal forgiveness. It is true as they say – that if you make it here, you’ll make it anywhere. Knowing this gives me the confidence to leave you for a new chapter in my life: Connecticut.
Farewell New York. And thank you.
Till we meet again,