WAFFLE HILL FARM
good finds / LIVING WELL / sponsored
I was scrolling through Facebook the other day and a friend had posted a wide-angle shot of her living room. “We’ve been in this house for 15 years,” she said, “and I can finally say that it’s just the way we want it.”
Her words struck me. Fifteen years.
I’m often guilty of those Pinterest-scrolling wanty feelings. The beautiful kitchens and uber-organized mudrooms, pristine bathrooms and peaceful bedrooms. When I would peel my eyes away from the computer and look around our house, I’d feel an urgency and discontent about my own home.
But the move to Waffle Hill has been different. Even before we moved one piece of furniture into this home, Dan and I decided that our approach to Waffle Hill was going to be different. We were going to take our time as we worked through the house, making improvements and changes and upgrades. We were going to do things well, not just do them to get them done.
I think a lot of this philosophy change has something to do with this place. For the first time our family is living in a place that actually feels like home. The temporal feeling is gone. We want to invest in this lovely old place.
But still, with any old home there are some things that require more immediate attention. There is always, always something that needs to be repaired or replaced. And Waffle Hill, like any old home, has her fair share of things on that list.
I learned a lot from the work we did at Woodlawn. And I’m using a lot of those experiences as we approach new projects here.
We’ve done a few things so far:
WAFFLE HILL FARM
Disclosure: This post is part of a partnership with Enbrighten Cafe Lights.
One of the spaces at Waffle Hill Farm I’m most excited to move into is the big back porch, full of windows and overlooking the front of the farm. Before we’d even moved the first box into the house Dan and I talked about how we envisioned setting it up. Long farm tables, comfortable seating, books and pillows, even my little cage of zebra finches tucked in a sunny corner.
But at the top of my list for the space, and the one thing that is non-negotiable is strings of lights around the perimeter of the porch. In my mind I picture family dinners and relaxed conversations with friends, and kids tucked under blankets reading books under the warmth of lights draped around the room.
But since the porch became the holding room for all of our boxes, I can tell it’s going to be quite awhile before that space starts to take shape.
Apparently, there were better plans for the strings of lights I was recently sent to review and set up in my new farmhouse.
I thought moving might be like childbirth. A painful, sometimes long and drawn out experience, but once you get somewhat removed from it, your memory fogs and you actually begin to think that someday, down the road, you might be able to do it all over again.
But no. No. It’s not.
When I think back on the past several weeks of moving–the endless, hillbilly, tiny load at a time in the back of a pick-up truck, no real deadline move we just went through, I still feel this big sob build in my chest.
But let’s start with the good news.