Oh Deer!

Rhett and I happened upon an episode of the latest home makeover reality show the other week, and what did we see? A ceramic deer head on the wall. It was pronouced as one of the highlights of the room and, placed against a black wall, it was striking. But why not have the real thing? Down south, we don't mess around with ceramic animals in the home when you can have the animal itself.

Welcome to our dining room. Don't the antlers pair beautifully with my china? What can I say, I'm always a step ahead of the designing curve.

Yes, the above is real, but it's been stuffed and well preserved. Would you like to see another set of horns at Tara? Just step into the garage.

This one Rhett shot and killed himself. And we ate well that winter. :) These little horns aren't quite fit for the true interior of the house...so this one will live in the garage permanently.

Last winter we were not so fortunate, though Rhett's time in the deer stand was shortened substantially by our home renovations. Luckily, I found this for his bathroom:

This eco-chic design proved to be a fun puzzle with our oldest daughter and yes, it's 100% cardboard. Decorating statement? Absolutely.

Slowly but Surely

That's the theme of Renovating Tara right now. Things are moving at a snail's pace, but I promise they're moving! I've got a rhyme repeating in my head to keep me sane:

Tile
Gutters
Doors
Shutters

That's all our contractor has left...but it's taking ages! Yes, I want every detail perfect, but I want it now! (Frankly, I don't think that's too much to ask...)

Until there's more to take pictures of- enjoy!

At least Rhett is able to celebrate what's been done so far!

Making All Things New

Happy Easter from Tara!

Easter is my favorite holiday and traditionally a celebration of Christ making all things new. We certainly are experts here at Tara with renewing things, aren't we? So, what better thing to do today than to get a whole new roof!

The boys showed up (remember our trusty pals Freddie and Cesar? They brought friends!) about 7am. Welcome happy morning, indeed! By the time we arrived home from church, they had torn the old roof off and put down tar paper. Unfortunately, my mind was busy with Easter baskets and deviled eggs, and I neglected to take pictures of the progress until about 4pm...

As my 7 year-old said, "Those men are working hard!"

Oooh it looks good already!



But oh the trash to clean up!

While they may have gotten an early start, as I type this it is nearing 8pm and they're still hard at work. As Rhett surveyed the progress earlier this evening, he decided he'd better pitch it- and it seems they needed him!

Rhett and Freddie strike a pose...

And now it's too dark outside to get a picture of the finished product, but just wait. Tomorrow, friends!

Happy, happy Easter!

Construction by Moonlight

When Rhett said the treehouse portion of this little building would be done by the end of May, he was serious. So serious, in fact, that he's outside right now putting the finishing touches on the ladder.

I apologize for the dark picture, but what can I say? It's 9pm!

It's coming along.

No, we haven't stopped working on the treehouse. Rhett is very...let's say...OPTIMISTIC about completion times when it comes to projects.

This treehouse has been no exception to his habitual extending of deadlines. I wrote an article for the Tennessean about his building our oldest daughter a treehouse for Father's Day in 2009.

Nearly two years later, we've moved, added another daughter to the family, and the treehouse is still in the works. Maybe I shouldn't announce Rhett's plans to the greater Nashville area until I have a firm timetable next time.

Ultimately, while his lackadasical approach to timing drives his type-A wife absolutely insane, all the projects Rhett starts do eventually become finished! And isn't that better than having half a dozen unfinished projects strewn about?

From the pictures with the entry on Pythagorean theorems and post hole diggers a month ago, you'll see there is progress! Slow and steady...

Love Muffin

Someone once told me that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I've generally found this to be true, though I have cooked for boyfriends in years past who couldn't care less and not cooked for men who thought I was fantastic regardless. Food may not be the answer to all relationship problems or be a sure thing to get the ring, but it never hurts to add some yummy munchies into the mix. Who can resist a homemade dinner or delectible dessert?

One of my favorite things about Rhett is that we cook together. He's technically more of a cook while I'm more of a baker, but being in the kitchen with Rhett is a lot of fun either way. Rhett isn't afriad to improvize and take chances, and he has taught me a great deal about how to get around a kitchen.

I should say here, in all fairness, that both of my grandmothers are excellent cooks and their influence on my cooking habits shouldn't be overlooked. When I recently needed advice on fudge pies, the first person I called was Gran. She searched her cookbooks and found a simple starter recipe that put me on the road to becoming a professional at making fudge pies. Once I had the recipe down pat, I started substituting ingredients and playing around. That journey has been downright delicious and has ended, for now at least, in a pretty darn good dark chocolate fudge pie.

But I digress. While family members taught me the basics, Rhett has taught me not to be afraid to branch out a little. I once had about 5 amazing dinners I could make, and now I have the confidence and know-how to cook about anything. Last night I made a Barefoot Contessa tomato soup for the first time and changed things around to make it my own- the end result was scrumptious!

This Valentines morning, the girls and I woke up to this:



Happy Valentines Day to me- Dad was making breakfast! This is a big deal for Rhett, because asking him to get up early is like asking him to have his teeth pulled. But breakfast at B's Valentine Cafe? What a way to start the day.

What was the cafe serving, you ask?

At one kiss per item, the girls and I could eat like queens. Our oldest chose 4, 5, and 7 with hot chocolate to drink (topped with a dollop of pink cool whip). Our youngest chose number 8, and Mom noshed on basically what everyone else didn't eat, as most Moms do. And, typical of me, I'm still nibbling- on a leftover love muffin right this second. Do I have to pay for that?

Maybe it's not so much the food a loved one prepares that goes straight to your heart, but I think it's the selfless act of cooking that warms the soul. Making something from scratch to nourish and delight another person is really a cool thing- a priviledge, almost. It's nearly impossible to cook for someone else without putting love in it. And how lovely is that?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Baby it's cold inside, Part 2.

Out with the old...

...and in with the new.



On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

A brand new H-V-A-C (has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?)

I am all for spending money where I can see it, but it is truly a bummer to spend money and not be able to have anything much to show for it. And that’s how it is with HVAC units.

As I’ve mentioned before, Tara is not a spring chicken. Part of buying her for a song meant that plenty was wrong, and one of the things that desperately needed replacing was the HVAC unit. Fortunately, Rhett knows people.

When we had the ducts cleaned in July, the man cleaning them didn’t even want to start because the unit was so old. “Don’t you want to replace it first, mam?” he asked. No, we decided to delay the inevitable and wait until arguably the coldest part of the year. But hey, it’s better than shutting the AC off in the hottest part of the year.

Luckily, the heat was only off for a few hours, and our home is much more energy efficient than it was to begin with. Hallelujah. We also get a tax credit for doing this before the end of the year, and that is something to make merry about.

Trimming the Tree

Rhett and I have been married for about a year and a half, but when you count the Christmas we spent together when we were dating this will our third shared Christmas. Along with picking the perfect evergreen, setting out all our holiday décor, and hanging the stockings, bickering on the day we decide to trim the tree has become a holiday tradition.

I can’t remember what we were fighting about in 2008- it was probably something he did- but I remember 2009 clearly. It was our first Christmas under the same roof, and we were ready to spruce up our little bungalow. Tensions were high - I was expecting and we hadn’t told anyone but my best friends, Rhett and I were both avidly looking for new jobs- but once there is hot cocoa in mugs and Amy Grant in the stereo (I am a big fan of cheesing it up for the season and forcing family fun) who could be anything but giddy?

We could.

Rhett saves everything (seriously, it should be another blog entry) and I am a no-nonsense purger. So there we were, looking though his holiday décor that includes ribbon from the 1980s and gilded plastic, when I say something like “Maybe we should use some of my things here instead of these relics” which gets met with “I don’t want Pottery Barn Kids stockings in my house” to which we both take offense that the other doesn’t like our taste, which explodes into allegations of not loving the other person, Christmas, or Jesus. (It didn’t go that far, but these things do escalate quickly.) I think I remember taking our oldest daughter to Target and letting Rhett trim the tree alone.

Fast forward and yesterday, 5 December 2010, was the big day of tree trimming. I took the oldest to the store for icing for a gingerbread house, and Rhett said he’d put lights on the tree while we were gone so that we could hang ornaments when we get home. Perfect. There was even a light layer of snow on the ground. Perry Como was practically seeping out of my pores.

When we drive up the driveway the tree is magically lit in our big front window and when I walk through the door the youngest is smiling sweetly and the oldest is about to jump out of her skin because she’s so excited to decorate.

“Let’s start!” I say to Rhett, who is on the computer.

“Just a sec- I’m working on some budgeting stuff. How much did you spend at Amazon?”

Are you kidding me? Nope. Because we were lacking the customary tension, Rhett decided a thorough analysis of our household finances would be appropriate on the day we decide to trim the tree. And he’s decided that the perfect timing for a discussion of holiday expenditures is RIGHT before John Denver and the Muppets Christmas CD is piped through the house.

Rhett was swiftly pulled away from mint.com, given a rum and coke, and told to sit down and be Christmas-y for crying out loud.

Crisis averted, we got the tree decorated and it was, despite Rhett's attempt to rain on my parade, a pretty good afternoon of holiday cheer. Advice? Save the discussion of seasonal spending until December 26, at least. Happy tree trimming!

Of course you need another hole in your chimney!

Remember when I told you I got a fab new pair of boots this fall? Well I did. And they’re every bit as fabulous as you might imagine them to be. Love. Love. Love.

Rhett, being heterosexual, chose not to indulge himself this fall with fashion but rather with a brand new TV for the den. I think he expected me to balk at the idea of buying *another* TV for the house, given the fact that we had- wait, I’m counting- SIX at the bungalow, but the only TV in this house is in our bedroom. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, but I’m not a TV watcher (okay, except for Mad Men, American Pickers, and the occasional Real Housewives cat fight) and I go to bed at 9pm…so Rhett was basically without his daily dose of Hometime and Holmes on Homes. Knowing I wanted to keep my marriage happy, I said “Sure, go get a nice TV for the den.”

And he came home with a 52” behemoth. We can now see the pores on Mike Rowe’s face.

Anyways, his big idea was to mount the TV above the fireplace. Our den, now that we knocked out a wall, is basically half of a huge room that is kitchen, breakfast area, and den combined. With a TV the size of Kansas, we don’t have to miss a minute of Jersey Housewives (no she didn’t!) when one of us wants to go into the kitchen for ice cream. Theoretically, a giant TV is a great idea.

Mounting it is…another thing.

In order to mount the TV, Rhett first spent the better part of a Sunday afternoon removing a brick from the fireplace. As a mother of two, there’s a certain part of me that cringes as I sit outside on the deck and peer through the glass at my husband as he hacks apart our chimney. I don’t like to see my house being demolished as I hear, “Calm down, I’m not doing this to the foundation!” Rhett told me that he “thought” there was a cavity behind the first row of bricks through which he could run cable and electricity. Fortunately, he was right.

From the attic, Rhett was able to run both cable and electricity and create the outlets you see in the above picture. Next he installed a TV mount and, with the help of his trusty assistant (cough, cough), the TV was lifted onto the mount.

We have yet to determine whether lighting a fire in the fireplace will have any effect on the TV, but I assume Rhett’s position on this matter is to cross that bridge when we get there. Don’t be surprised if we invest in a DVD of a crackling fire and entertain with the ambiance of a cozy fire up on the big screen. Kidding. Rhett, I’m sure, will rig a way to make the fireplace and TV live together in harmony, and that will have to be another blog entry.

To his credit, the TV is a great size for the wall. With chocolate brown brick, the TV even blends in a bit and isn’t near as obtrusive as I thought it would be. I wouldn’t say we watch more TV, but when we do want to watch a show it’s a bit like going to the movies (pass the popcorn). Rhett loves his new toy, and I love that it is no longer sitting in the middle of the den. My only worry is that I am now spoiled and can barely discern the characters on the teeny TV in our bedroom (“Is that Will or Grace?”).

I’m thankful Rhett chose an indulgence that’s beneficial to the whole family. Unfortunately, I’m the only one who benefits from a pair of size 7.5 boots, but I do believe that they make me a better wife and mother.

You light up my life.

There’s a line from Steel Magnolias when-

Wait, let me get something clear first. If you don’t remember the last time you saw Steel Magnolias, or if- I shudder to think- haven’t even SEEN Steel Magnolias, stop reading this blog. Repent of your sins at the nearest Blockbuster or Netflix site and you may join up with us again when you’ve memorized at least five of the lines and yet still cried every time (Spolier alert!) Shelby dies.

Now, where were we? Oh yes. Truvy (LOVE her!) has a great line at the beginning of the movie:

“Well, the last romantic thing my husband did for me was back in 1972. He enclosed this carport so I could support him.”

As the movie progresses, we all come to see that Spud (great name) clearly loves Truvy (he makes her beauty shop a chain at the end of the movie, remember? *sniffle* It gets me every time!), but he’s not a roses and chocolates kind of guy. Spud will enclose a carport, fix the truck, and make her dream of two beauty shops a reality- all because he loves her. But buy her flowers or dazzle her with diamonds? ‘Fraid not.

We all have our different love languages- ways that we show people who mean a lot to us just how much we love them. I’m verbal (shocker), but Rhett, my Rhett is all about acts of service. He’ll help every friend move, rake leaves, clean out your basement- you name it. He once packed up my entire apartment (furniture and everything) in 2 elevator rides- the man loves manual labor!

When it comes to Tara, Rhett has done most everything and one of his major accomplishments was the electrical work. Old ranches like ours have terrible lighting and hardly any outlets. So naturally, Rhett climbed into the attic and cut holes for can lights in the ceilings of the hallway, den and kitchen (18 in all.) He changed out every single outlet and put in new ones throughout the house. I don’t think he shocked himself but once or twice, and it was probably good for his heart.

Some girls ask their husbands for purses or jewelry and get all giddy when it arrives at the house. Me? I asked just yesterday for another outlet by the front door for some new buffet lamps. Proof I’m learning his love language? Rhett said, “Sure, I’ll do it in a few weekends” and my heart skipped a beat.

My Lucille Ball DIY Weekend

Scarlett here isn’t known for being financially shrewd. I do, however, love a good deal (shoes at 25% off? Yes, please!).

Maybe it’s the thrill of the hunt that makes me relish a deal (Girlfriend better not have just picked up that last sequin tee- it’s mine!), or perhaps it’s the fact that I can buffer the sure-thing confrontation with Rhett about some purchases by saying, “Look how much we save on a nanny and a cleaning lady because I do both jobs for free!” Bottom line, I excuse my ridiculous love of shopping by adoring to save a little green wherever I can.

One of the coolest ways to save during the decorating phase of a renovation is to repurpose furniture from your old house (or a fab Flea Market) and re-imagine it in new ways. Sarah and Tommy on HGTV’s Sarah’s House do it all the time. They make it look so easy that I hate them. And by saying I hate them I mean I love them. Oh, can you both come visit me at Tara? I will bake you cookies!

Anyways, Rhett and I decided to do a little repurposing this weekend with an old table and chairs of mine from my life pre-Rhett. Maybe we’ll call it the pre-Civil War era? In any case, it’s an antique white breakfast table with four standard chairs. Not overly impressive, but definitely used and dirty. I had used it as a dining table in my small apartment for many years and then it moonlighted as a craft table in our oldest’s play room. Now it will finally have its time in the sun as a true breakfast table.

All it needed was a little coat of paint.

Turns out that involves a good amount of sanding first. As a runner I use my shoulders only as much as I lift children and shopping bags, so now after sanding all weekend I can barely feel my right shoulder. Ah, battle wounds!

After a tenuous afternoon at Home Depot we finally decided on a paint color called Mississippi Mud in High Gloss. Choosing high gloss paint for furniture, especially furniture you will need to clean often, is paramount. Flat paint simply does not clean easily and it wouldn’t have the smooth finish we were looking for. The saleswoman in the paint department told me she loved the color I picked out- I blushed. Rhett rolled his eyes.

Because Rhett is Rhett, he used a compressor and a spray gun (yes, we own both- you should see our garage) to spray the table and chairs. Scarlett would have used a paintbrush (and it would have taken 8 times as long and look terrible), but Rhett is fancy when it comes to these projects. He laid out plastic sheeting in our driveway, held down the corners with wood, and it was time to get started.

I came bouncing out of the garage in my sorority shorts to help and Rhett gave me the kiddie job of pouring some paint through a funnel filter into the can that attaches to the spray gun. And I screwed it up. The paint came out of the can much faster than I thought, and we at once had paint all over the stone wall behind our driveway. Whoops! Rhett walked quietly into the kitchen to get paper towels while I ran to get the hose, which shot water all over Kingdom come. Sheesh. At this point we hadn’t even gotten to the chairs, but a good portion of the driveway was a lovely shade of brownish-tan.

At least I loved the color.

The table and chairs look great, mainly because Rhett finished the job while I threw tennis balls with the dog. And in the end we have a beautiful breakfast table and chairs all for the price of a can of paint.

So I married a cartoon character.

When people politely say, “Wow! So you’re renovating AND having a baby!” I *usually* fight the urge to be rude and instead say something along the lines of, “My husband IS Bob the Builder, you know.”

To set the record straight, I am not married to the cartoon character (or this blog would be a lot more interesting/weird). My husband’s name isn’t even Bob. But when it comes to doing things around the house, can he build it? YES HE CAN.

My husband can do just about everything when it comes to home repairs and home renovation. Seriously. If I were at all close to being in a construction-related vocation, I would have developed a serious inferiority complex by now. I can’t even hang a picture without a stud finder anymore, and honestly, I usually just wait for him to do it because he always does a better job. Fortunately for my ego he has trouble with their/there/they’re, who/whom, you’re/your and such grammatical distinctions, so I get to strut my stuff every so often.

But I digress. So far he’s done all the electrical for the house (I’ll get into the nitty-gritty when I start posting pictures), run the gas line for the oven (yikes!), installed tile (I got to help with that one, but I got reprimanded for being on the phone while tiling), been on the roof like a spider monkey- you name it. Next on the list is hacking a hole in the fireplace so he can mount his new TV above the mantle. What can I say, he got a new TV so I got some awesome new boots- that’s how our marriage works (and I can post a picture of those fab boots, too!).

Throughout this blog I’ll be sure to give him credit for all the things he’s done to the house (and will do…right, Honey?). And I’ll refrain from calling him Bob the Builder and instead go with Rhett. Get it? Tara…Scarlett…Rhett…