Finding my art again

I've been feeling a lot of 'meh' lately. As a certified adult, I have found it harder and harder to find the inspiration and motivation to continue to create art. This is very hard for me, because to create art is akin to breathing. Which would explain the suffocating feeling I get from time to time. Not to mention, the area I live in does not necessarily foster the creative community. It's my own fault. I can't blame the state I live in or anything else. The truth is, I've let life turn on the cruise control and I'm just riding along. I need to wrestle it back. Ninja style - because everything in life is more fun ninja style.

I'm fortunate to have a handful of genuinely creative people in my life. In recent conversations with them, I have learned that they have similar feelings about our community and about their own struggles to keep inspiration alive. While I firmly believe that it one's own individual responsibility to seek out inspiration and motivation, a group or community of like minded artists help "feed the brain" and in turn nurtures creativity.  That's why I am so excited that a small group of us are getting together on a regular basis for informal meet ups. Conversations, sharing of artwork or art we have found that inspire us - in hopes that it leads to more and more inspiration and keeps the momentum going.

I feel for my poor husband. As the years we are together start to add up, I think so do the pieces of the puzzle that is me. He never knows which direction I will be running in. Sometimes it's USSR era gas masks. Sometimes it's repainting furniture or sewing or photography or mixed media... or me inviting a gaggle of artists over on a Saturday night. He goes with it. I'm pretty sure he actually enjoys it.  I'm also sure he's expecting to come home one day to me building a circus tent in our living room with dogs, monkeys and retired astronauts. He probably wouldn't blink at this point. Every time I tell him that I NEED to do this - he's right on board. I love that (among a million other things) about him.

Fortunately for him, I'm currently working on a large piece that was inspired in part by a project I did back in college and not a circus... yet. I'm exploring mediums I have never used and using mediums I am happily familiar with. Canvas. Mod Podge. Acrylic Paint. Charcoal. Soft Pastels. A map. (I am almost as obsessed with maps as I am with masks) Elmer's glue. Books.

When I was choosing a canvas size, I had the large one picked out. But I got scared and I picked up a 9"x12".

Christina was with me.  I asked her, "Do I start small or is this a go-big-or-go-home kinda moment?"

"Sister, go big or go home."

20" x 30" Almost square... but not. Almost standard... but not.

I have no idea how it will turn out - hopefully well enough for me to share, but one thing is for certain. It is going to be fun. And probably messy. So, I suppose that is two things for certain.

summer evening

My dear friend, Christina, recently moved back to Manchester in June after completing her Master's Degree and becoming a licensed therapist. We have gotten together for visits since she has been back, but last week, on a perfect summer evening, was the first time she and I got to sit together, sip wine and do some serious girl chit chat (without the interruption of a hungry baby or a bored Bean). It was divine.

I'm not sure if any other mothers feel this way – but I am pretty sure the moment after you give birth, they hand you not only your squirming little miracle, but also a HUGE side of guilt. I often feel guilty for wanting to take time for just myself; there is always too much that "needs" to get done. I have to remind myself that it's not selfish for me to want to be away from my kids, it's necessary to relax and recharge.

Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who realizes this time  - for both he and I - is important. He encourages me to take an evening here and there and head out for a couple hours with my girlfriends, and I do likewise for him. (Of course, this also means after he gets the kids to bed, he gets to be a kid himself and play on the video games completely undisturbed)

Silly little fly flew in my wine!

This is a good shoulder... all great friends should have one like this

I would also like to take this time to warn the rest of my girlfriends that in lieu of my decision to upgrade my camera and lenses, I have decided to lug that thing just about everywhere. Put on your lip gloss ladies - 'cause your picture will be taken on girls night!

Why yes, that IS a full size sofa in our Ford Focus!

{OK, so it didn't look quite like that... but it was close!}

My husband is one determined man. He fit a 80 3/4" sofa into the back of our Ford Focus. How?? I'm glad you asked. But first, let me start at the beginning...

Space, glorious space! Our front parlor just screams turn-of-the-century charm and to me, that says, the new digs required a new modern sofa to balance it out. I love all the original warm honey colored woodwork through out our new home and the architectural details that you just cannot find in home built post-World War II. My personal style leans towards the eclectic, so traditional furnishings were just not going to cut it. Living in New Hampshire, options are limited in acquiring non-traditional furniture. And, as much as I wish it wasn't, money is an object – as is the need for strength against children. So, where does one go when you need to find a sofa that has style, comfort, affordability and durability?

After checking out the local offerings - IKEA-land here we come. Design geniuses extraordinaire, those Swedish designers have the market covered on utilizing small space in a most eye pleasing way, but it is their flat packing that have my most sincere kudos.

Eric and I made the trek through Boston and into Stoughton/Avon to the nearest IKEA. It's just over an hour away - but it's a far enough distance that if you get down there and they are out of stock on an item, one can get very irritated. I've tried calling and having them hold an item that is in stock until I can get there - but they won't. You can purchase some items online, but you can't pick them up in the store. They will ship them to you and, in the case of a sofa, it's an extra $199. They do have an online inventory check that they say is accurate (because stock moves so quickly, they claim to err on the side of caution on inventory counts). We had been a few weeks prior and found the sofa we liked, but they were 'temporarily out of stock'. That was OK, because at the time, we weren't ready to commit. Now we were.

In our case, the online inventory said there were 6 pieces in stock at 5pm. Surely, there wouldn't be a mad run on sofas between now and the hour and 15 minutes it would take us to get there. We hoped in the car, and drove down. For anyone who have never been to an IKEA, it is a playground of gizmos, gadgets and glorious decor for a person like me. Eric firmly directed me to the sofa section to keep me from straying to a random lamp or pillow case, where we quickly tested the sofa out one more time, jotted down the aisle/bin numbers and went back down to the warehouse to pick up our sofa. We got side tracked in carpeting and lighting, but no more than an extra 15 minutes.

Karlstad Korndal Brown Sofa from IKEA

Eric grabbed a flat cart and we were quickly steering that left leaning cart to our new sofa. There, in our aisle, was a lone man, loading a sofa onto his flat cart. That's OK. There are still four more... three if it's been busy. But man, that bin looked really, REALLY empty. As we peered in and saw darkness, I felt a flutter of panic. We looked at the man with the sofa and Eric was quickly calculating how much cash the man might would accept to hand over the Karlstad... when the man said "You're lucky. There's just one left."

One? ONE! There in the shadows was the LAST Karlstad sofa. (queue angelic music and heavenly beam of light)

Eric loaded it onto the cart. We checked the stock numbers one last time to make sure we had all the right boxes and headed towards check out - content in the realization we had successfully scored our first sofa chosen together.

No Water Bottle Left Behind
Of course that happy, fuzzy feeling quickly faded as I looked long and hard at the main box of the sofa. How they H-E-Double hockey sticks was this going to fit in car? I have a 2004 Ford Focus Wagon that is a little work horse. The seats fold flat down and it is actually roomier than most mid sized SUVS –  but I was definitely getting nervous that perhaps I had over estimated my little wagon this time around.

Hubby said not to worry, it would fit. Cheerily, he folded down the seats, grimaced at the  stash of candy corn (remind me to vacuum and de-goo-ify) and various snacks that made their way in to the seat cracks, and loaded the main box.

It was to big. Not to be put off, he moved the front seat up a bit. It almost fit. Since the box was really just one side of the car, he moved the front passenger seat up again. It fit, IT FIT!!!!! But there were still the other boxes of cushions and covers, I told him to leave the case of water out so everything would fit.

"Nonsense.", says he.

Squish, swish, smush and crunch... (why, oh why didn't I get  picture of this?!?!)

Never mind the fact that Eric had to ride shot gun in the knees-to-nose position, everything made it in the car. And, of course, about a mile into the trek home, those darned water bottles started rubbing together and squeaking the whole trip. It took about five miles for me to stop giggling about the whole adventure.

So there you have it... one part (afore mentioned) determination + one part IKEA flat packing + one part wagon + one part knees to nose sitting position =  new sofa at home! Now to find some fun, bold graphic pillows.

Remembering Paris... oh Yeah and our one year anniversary

It seems like just yesterday that Eric and I were strolling along the river Seine, hand in hand, admiring the beauty of Paris and stopping at sidewalks bistros for a glass of wine (mmmmm... Côtes du Rhône) and some delicious French nibbles. A whole year (and 10 days) has gone by since we tied the knot and headed to Paris {with a quick stop in Iceland... more on that later}. So much has happened in such a short time! 

On top of getting married and traveling to Europe, we took the Bean to New York City to visit a friend and have a family adventure and where we informed her, much to her delight, that she was going to be a big sister ("I've waited my whole life to be a big sister!!!"), welcomed little Violet to the world, turned our condo into a investment property and moved to a new place. 

To some it may seem like a lot and to others... not much at all. But whatever it is... big or small... it has been one of the best years of my life. I am so lucky to be able to share it with Eric who is my best friend, soul mate and a wonderful father to both our girls. Even though we celebrated our anniversary with a quiet dinner and enjoyed some much needed grown up time together, I just thought I would share a little post to once again (and a tiny bit belated) wish my husband a happy anniversary. Year one was spectacular – I expect nothing less from every year to come.

Homing cat

You've heard of a 'homing pigeon'. They show up in all sorts of cop dramas, books and Ewan McGregor even did voice over work in an animated tale about heroic WWII homing pigeons. But have you ever heard of a 'homing cat'?

Well, here at Chez Jodoin, we seem to have an adorable new porch mate. Mittens (as the Bean as dubbed him) is the super sweet gray cat with white paws (thus Mittens) that has begun the habit of sitting on our porch underneath the window peering in with those sad Dreamworks animation-like eyes. Of course, this habit of his is aided by the fact that Eric and the Bean feed her chicken and ham bits in the evening and our landlord feeds him some moist cat food in the morning.

Mittens is a petit little declawed feline with a red woven harness. He is obviously someone's cat, but I have yet to determine if he is really a stray. I would think by the fact that he is declawed, he should be sitting pretty on someone's window sill dreaming of successful squirrel catching and not haunting our side porch in search of attention and scoring free nibbles. My first guess, is he escaped right between the house coat clad knees of an adorable white haired old lady opening the door to get her morning paper or saved himself from the humiliation of being dressed up in Build-A-Bear princess clothes by a precocious little girl having a tea party.

Or, perhaps he is let in and out of his house and isn't lost at all. So what is a girl to do? I tried calling the animal shelter to find out if anyone reported a lost cat, but my sense of timing is awful. I either tried to call before they opened or in the one hour gap they are not around - my mind (which with everything going on in the past few weeks has resembled shredded swiss cheese) was just not able to remind me to call mid day. Fortunately, I had enough brain power enough in reserves to contact a friend (thanks, Crystal!) that works with the shelter - she suggested that I attach a note to the cat's harness and see if anything comes back.

Brilliant!!!

I remembered another friend of mine, Lela, while living in LA, had a cat that went out during the day. One evening, Sweet Pea, returned home wearing a brand spanking new collar. Either he had gotten a five law discount or that boy was hanging poolside with somebody else. Lela attached a note to the new collar to find out what was going on and VOILA! she had herself a homing cat. A note went out... a note came back.

 

When I got home that evening, there was little Mittens on the porch stoop rolling over for his hello belly scratch. After that little formality was completed, I dashed into the house to grab a small zip lock snack bag, painters tape, a note pad, pencil and the Bean. I scratched out a little message:

Does this sweet little boy belong to anybody? He's been spending a lot of time on our porch and we are curious if he has a daily home or is lost. {mobile number}

The Bean sat down on the ground and Mittens, seeing his opportunity for some attention, pounced over to her lap. While she was distracting him with scratches, I attached the note and he seemed none the wiser.

Not an hour later, I get a phone call from a number I didn't recognize and an unfamiliar voice said "Hi, someone attached a note to my cat."

Turns out Mittens is a Maxwell and he lives a street away. His owner says he comes home several times a day but he gets out when she opens the door to go outside or let the dog out and that he is very determined to get outside... so she has given up trying to keep him in. She said she tried to attach another note to his harness, but he wiggled out of her grasp and dashed away again... obviously she does not give heavenly kitty scratches like the Bean. I'm not going to lie - I was a bit disappointed that I got a phone call rather than a note back. What a unique way to get a pen pal!

Every morning since, I wake up, open the shades in the sitting room and there he is lying like a king in a sun patch on the porch, looking in the window and waiting for treats or scratched or both. I am wondering if I should send his owner notes home to let her know his daily intake of treats... you know... like they do in daycare :)

Home sweet corrugated labyrinth

The wine was packed by the chimney with care...

The move is complete! Well... 98% complete. We still have some odds and ends laying around the condo that have yet to make it over, plus the cleaning and touch ups at the condo for our tenants in a few weeks. What baffles me is this: How did we accumulate SO MUCH STUFF?!?! I swear we must be the Tetris experts of closet filling! Not to mention... why when you move, you have a boat load of stuff you no longer want or need, but you go out an buy new stuff??!?

The kids are packed!

We made a couple trips over with boxes of breakables earlier last week before the big move day on Saturday. We still managed to fill up one box truck, one pickup truck, one SUV and two cars... PLUS another 2-3 trips with the car. I know dear, sweet Eric might blame my shoes - but I am pretty sure it wasn't just me (the man has quite a wardrobe these days himself). Who knew we could jam so many kitchen accoutrements and serving dishes into our tiny condo kitchen?!?! Books galore filled box after (heavy) box. Legos and barbies and board games...oh my!

While navigating our dining room was quite the challenge - finding simple necessities, like toilet paper, took on frantic search-and-rescue-like efforts (which were much appreciated by the Bean who then left us to enjoy a weekend at the beach in Maine).

There have been a few late nights unpacking and organizing - and one run to IKEA already to help with said organization. Five days later, it's starting to resemble a home rather than a jungle of boxes, newsprint and bubble wrap. We are still waiting for our internet services to be transferred over - something about a bad line or what not - but I say "Let the decorating and memory making begin!".

And lastly, a big... no a HUGE THANK YOU to herculean efforts family and friends who helped out in 90°+ heat... pizza and beer is surely not enough. You know who you are and we owe a move... please don't be like us and pick July.

America’s Stonehenge

Recently, Time Life Magazine reissued their special edition of 'Strange Places' - one of the two publications with Time my photography has been featured in. This re-release had me rooting around in my Mystery Hill folder and I found a journal entry I had written about my visit to one of New Hampshire's little hidden gems.

It is as follows:

It’s a cool and damp spring day in the woods of New Hampshire. Surrounded by crumbling stone structures, I found myself standing before a sacrificial stone in an area better known as “America’s Stonehenge”.

Mystery surrounds these woods. Questions begged to answered. Who built this? And for what purpose?

America’s Stonehenge is located about an hour north of Boston, in Salem, New Hampshire - (not to be confused with the famous witch town of Salem, Massachusetts.) No one really knows who built it, why they built it or even what it was used for.  Theories abound about its purpose - from ancient North American tribes conducting sacrifices to early Christian Irish Monks to various land uses of 18th and 19th century farmers.

Previously known as Mystery Hill, the name was changed in 1982 to ‘America’s Stonehenge’ to ‘better reflect’ what the current owners believe is one of the site’s main functions - namely an astronomical calendar.  The sacrificial table, perhaps being the most controversial,  is the epicenter of a group of intricate stone structures. The structures, being too small to be dwellings, are thought to have been used for ceremonial purposes. Surrounding these structures is a 12-acre circular calendar consisting of aligned monoliths to mark the changing seasons surrounds the main ‘ceremonial’ site.

While natural occurrences in the Earth’s shifting plates undoubtably caused damage to the site, (yes, New Hampshire lies on a surprising number or dormant and active fault lines) there are many other reasons why the site is so deeply shrouded in mystery.

Once upon a time, there was a working farm on the land owned originally owned by the Pattee family. The Pattee’s being farmers, modified and used some of the existing structures for various purposes such as root cellars and livestock shelters.  There was also a good deal of quarrying and removal of  large slabs of the readily available granite. And there was William Goodwin, a man so convinced that the site was built by Christian Irish monks,  long before Christopher Columbus’  ‘discovery’, that he rearranged stones to ‘fit’ his theories. For all these reasons  - no definite answer to the site’s builders or reason of existence seem forthcoming. 

What started off as a beautiful clear day, quickly became overcast with threatening looking clouds.  An ominous sign? Or just more proof that the weather in this area changed on the turn of a dime - the whole “Don’t like the weather... wait a few minutes” theory. Not to one to be discouraged by a few clouds, onward I drove until I came to the incredibly pitted and muddy... and I hesitate to call it... parking lot.  Fortunately, there did not seem too many other visitors - which was alright by me.

The property is over 110 acres of trails and is privately owned and operated - so of course there was the matter of “the fee”.  After becoming a few dollars lighter, armed with my camera and guide map, I was on my way to the trails.

The woods were still in their somewhat quiet phase as it was only April 12th and not all the forest critters had returned from their winter getaways. The peacefulness was only broken by the occasional creaking of winter barren trees swaying in the breeze.

The first structure I came across was, according to the trail guide, the ‘Watch House’.  It is a rather shallow cavern - not more than 6 or 7 feet in length - built into a hill using a large glacial bolder as one wall. A large, flat granite slab is fitted across as the roof with smaller granite stones piled up to form the opposite support wall. Situated on one end of a double-walled path, it was named the ‘Watch House’ due to it’s location to the  main site. Too small to be a permanent dwelling, but enough shelter to protect a person from the elements, it is speculated that perhaps this structure was used a shelter for a guard.

"Watch House"

At this point, some overly loud hikers join me at the watch house.  Not wanting to my experience to be overshadowed by comments of a more juvenile nature, I deviated from the map and wandered down some other trails to explore.  There was also a large ‘thaw swamp’ alive with surface water bugs and something larger that went Ker-PLOP and disappeared.  The standing stone that originally caught my attention doesn’t appear anywhere on my guide map - nor the wall it is part of - but I was intrigued none the less and snapped a few photos of it.

Random standing stone

Looking around, I noticed the whole area was marked with letters or numbers. I realized that I had wandered onto the second map of the Astronomical Trail. Excellent!


The first marker I found was the True North Stone. During 1974 and 1975 it was determined by Mr. Osborn Stone (past manager) that this monolith was the true north alignment for the pole star. Excavations were conducted in 1989 to 1991 in order to investigate the base of this stone as well as sections of the adjacent wall. A fire pit was discovered in front of the stone at a higher level than it’s base and indicates that stone had been placed prior to the fire pit. Amazingly, a radio carbon dating was taken of the charcoal samples and a date of 650 AD was obtained.

Moving on down the trail I stumbled upon the Summer Solstice Sunrise Monolith.  It is somewhat unimpressive in size and doesn’t look much different from the standing stone I found earlier.  It does, however, line up with an important astronomical event - the Summer Solstice Sunrise of approximately 4000 years ago. (Due to changes in the tilt of the earth over the last 4000 years - the stones no longer line up with the current astronomical events.)

As I approached this standing stone, the sun decided to grace me with a very brief appearance. So brief in fact, I was only able to snap off 3 or 4 shots before it goes back to it’s hiding place behind the clouds.

Summer Solstice Sunrise Stone

The stone itself is unextraordinary at first glance. But when one really looks at it - it is quite beautiful in it’s simplicity with its strange pointed shape and the proud way it stands over looking the valley below. While I experienced no flashes of light (as suggested by one theory of Tectonic Strain Theory) or brilliant ephiphanies - but I did feel at one with my surroundings. Whether that was due to the site itself or just my love for being in the woods, I may never know. Taking a few moments to absorb the view and enjoy the silence and solitude before finally moved to the main site.

The sky was getting more and more ominous and so I made my way towards the main site.

I entered the main site through the exit, so it takes me a few minutes to get my bearings straight and figure out which part of the site I am at. After taking a quick look around, I see it... the 'Sacrificial Stone'.  I obediently followed the signs to the viewing platform to gaze down at it.

Hmph. I was very far away. I looked left. I looked right. No one of authority seemed to be around (the bonus of off season visits!). I hopped down over the ‘fence’ and, ignoring the occasional suggestions from the few rule abiding visitors on the viewing platform to “hop on”,  I got an up close and personal look at the stone.

Sacrificial Stone

This 4.5 ton grooved slab of granite is one of the most controversial structures on the site. Supporters of the idea that the area was a ceremonial site used by ancient natives, say that this structure was grooved and notched, to catch the blood of sacrifices below the table in a bowl. Others say this structure is actually a Lye  Stone, used to leach lye out of ashes and produce soap by 17th or 18th- century farmers in the area. Having seen photos of similar lye stones, one might be able to conclude they are correct – BUT what about the “Oracle Chamber”?

Ahhhh, the “Oracle Chamber”. It is probably, in my humble opinion,  the most interesting structure on the property.

Entrance to the Oracle Chamber

Walking down a few ancient stones steps and I peered into the chamber. It was small, dark, dank and much colder than the outside temperature. I expected a bellowing moan and a gust of ancient air to warn me from entering, but sadly, nothing moans or gusts.

It is a T-shaped chamber about only 5 feet in height - so I have to bend a little to walk through. The floor of the chamber was slick with moisture, so I moved cautiously through and finally came to the ‘Secret Bed’. Located below the ‘Speaking Tube’, it is an extremely narrow niche only large enough for one person to crawl into and be completely concealed. The theory is a priest would hide himself in this niche and speak into the tube. Words spoken through this stone-lined tube would travel and exit under the Sacrificial table - giving the impression that the voice was coming from the table itself and hence the term 'Oracle Chamber'.  Why would this chamber and tube exist for a farmers simple lye stone? I stuck my head and shoulders in the niche to see as much as I could, but it was pitch black. A braver person may try to squeeze their whole self in for an even closer look - I am not that person.

A few feet ahead of the Secret Bed is an opening in the roof. Two stone louvres were once in place offering ventilation into the chamber that could be opened and closed. Also of interest - is a carving discovered in the 1930’s.  It is of a running deer, and believed to have been drawn by natives long ago. No testing (that I could discover) has been done to prove this. I tried to find the carving but it was too dark and shooting my flash off repeatedly to illuminate the chamber only succeeded in rendering myself temporarily blinded.  It was only with a stroke of luck, that I managed to get my camera to focus and flash to fire to get a couple of interior pictures that were in focus.

Interior of the Oracle Chamber - looking from the Secret Bed to the louvres

I exit the chamber (through the entrance, of course) to poke around other portions of the site above.  There are a number of  smaller chambers - again, too small to have been dwellings, but so well built that they must have been used for some purpose. Storage perhaps? But of what? Or are they some of the stones Goodwin moved around? Yet another unanswered question.

While I was wandering among the cairns and structures - a big fat raindrop hit my arm. The clouds had turned blackish gray and the weather decided to become particularly unfriendly.  With one last look around, I decided this is a good time to pack it in and head back through the woods to my car. 

I have no idea who built this site or why, but it seems entirely plausible that it was first constructed by early natives. Evidence of hundred of chips and flakes from stone unearthed at the site, suggest that the site was at least partially constructed with tools consistent with indigenous tools consistent with the Native American lithic techniques.

Many believe that the history of this region only ranges back a few hundred years and that the inhabitants were few in number. Not true. This land was not a ‘virgin land’ but a ‘widowed land’. After Europeans came to North America, it is believed that over 90% of the native population perished due to contracting common European diseases such as smallpox, measles, mumps and whooping cough, to which they had no immunity.  Cultures and languages were either lost completely or absorbed by other tribes. Stories of sacred lands were gone or turned in folklore - locations and reasons gone forever.  Much like this one.

Fear is the Killer of Dreams

Photo courtesy of Thinkstock.com

Just a quick post since moving is on my mind a lot. Fear is the killer of dreams. It can be immobilizing and keeps one from moving forward into the unknown... and let's face it... the future is really just one giant question mark. No matter how much planning one does, or the order one keeps - what happens isn't always what was planned.

I keep telling myself this whenever I start to get nervous about our upcoming move. As previously mentioned, we are renting out our condo and moving into a bigger, more expensive space.

the Fear 
I am nervous about becoming a landlord and finding good tenants yearly (or every few years if we are lucky). My biggest fear is a tenant breaking a lease or not being able to replace tenants after a lease is up and having to cover both our rent and our mortgage – which we can do but it will make for tight months and I wouldn't want to have that issue for months in a row. But I suppose that is the bane of any landlord – and they survive it unscathed... I think.

the Dream
Eventually, we would love to buy a house that we plan to stay in until the kids are grown and moved away. We don't want to buy and sell and buy and sell – we want to settle and root. We don't where that will be, but we do know that in order to do achieve this dream, we cannot stay in the same place. So with that - we are holding our noses and jumping head first into the future!

Dream on!

Welcome Violet Catherine... and New Digs

Violet Catherine has finally arrived! Well, she arrived 11 weeks ago - but this mom has been super busy readjusting to life with a new baby and maintaining the schedule of a 9 1/2 year old!

Ya ya – there is a HUGE gap in this post and my last. One reason is, I was waiting for Violet's arrival before unveiling the name of my new blog as we were keeping her name hush hush. The other reason is, I had forgotten how much work newborns are and didn't get to do a fraction of the things I thought I was going to be able to get done.

In my pink hazy memory, I remember the Bean easing right into a sleep schedule and my easily cleaning the house and preparing meals. Either Mother Nature rose colored the bejeezus out of my memory or I had truly forgotten all the work involved in getting to that infant eutopia. Between feedings every two hours, endless diaper changes and a wee one that adored being held and vocally disapproved of being put into a bassinet for naps – my website did not get updated, my blog sat untouched, photography projects I had envisioned remain on the "creative shelf". Not to mention the fact that these little people need so much stuff!!!!

I knew we wouldn't last long term in our two bedroom condo, but I kept saying to myself "People in Manhattan do it all the time" and "Folks in Europe don't live in as much space as we do". Well, New Yorkers and Europeans are made of much sterner stuff than myself – or maybe they do it because they have no other choice. Maybe it is my post pregnancy/less sleep brain railing against clutter. I don't need a lot of space and I have no problem living modestly, but whatever it is, the small space/larger family dynamic is not working for us.

Ideally, a newborn and an almost ten year old could sleep in the same room. Violet is sleeping through the night – but she goes to bed so much earlier than Bean. That's a downer for Bean if she wants to play in her room or even just read in bed. Not to mention, Bean has school and needs her sleep, so putting her 11 week old sister in the room with her probably wouldn't be conducive to a good night's rest.

And then I started worrying (and my husband, Eric, will tell you worrying is my super power) about small toys. With the first one, it's easy to keep all tiny things that could cause choking out of reach of a curious baby. With the second, now there are tiny toys every where – even when you pick stuff up, Polly Pocket's shoe is lurking just under the sofa skirt and The Littlest Pet Shop babies are peeking out of a partially open closet.

Eric and I had done a lot of creative legwork in terms of using what space we did have wisely. It was about looking at an area and redefining what it's potential was. I admit that I took a lot of  inspiration from the folks over at Ikea and their amazing use of tiny spaces while still looking clean and well designed – and I think we did a mighty fine job of doing just that. We de-cluttered closets, added cabinets to walls, used baskets and bins to organize shelves... but at the end of the day, we were just feeling too cramped. Add to that the sleeping arrangements, it was time to move.

Dealing with a downward market
Condos have been hit hard and ours has not been spared from the drop in the housing market. The property, when we had it appraised, lost almost 50% of it value from when I had purchased it four years before. Yikes! We are not about to hand over cash just to take it off our hands and we refuse to short sale as a first option. After swallowing that bitter pill, we started looking at our condo as an investment property – because really you don't lose money unless you sell low – making our only real option to rent it out.

Next, we had to decide whether to buy a second home or rent a larger apartment. I spoke to our very helpful mortgage broker and found out that we qualified for a mortgage on a second home (yay!) but because we hadn't established a rental history it would be smaller than if it did (boo!). So, we could buy a second home, but it would be small and modest and possibly need some updating. We are all for fixing stuff and making it our own, but we would rather wait and have more options in terms of amenities and location. Plus, we aren't sure where we will be in a few years. Renting gives us time to decide where we want to buy – whether it's in this area or out of state. So, renting it is!

Finding our tiny piece of (rented) heaven
That decided, I haven't lived in  anything I haven't owned for well over 10 years and was shocked to see the limited choices of three bedroom apartments that are out there - avocado bathrooms and dingy carpeting galore! Since I have no desire to live in someone else's filth and I am quite particular about "the look", not to mention the area, of a place - the search took a little while before we found a place that fit all of our requirements - off street parking for two cars, a yard, a nice quiet, safe neighborhood, three bedrooms, updated kitchen and bath, laundry hook ups (more on that later) and hardwood floors (I DESPISE wall to wall carpeting... all the dirt and dust mites... blech!). And we found one! The fact that it has a refinished claw foot tub and beautiful fireplace is just bonus awesome-ness.

Laundry Hook-ups!!!!

This two-family home was just renovated and restored to it's hardwood and Victorian detailed glory! The area is lovely, quiet and ideal for what we were looking for. It's not a huge, over the top space, but perfectly sized for our little family to nest in – and we found fabulous tenants to rent our condo to boot! All the pieces are falling into line nicely (thank you good karma!) and I can't wait to move in and start decorating! I'm thinking it needs some POP of modern to accent it's turn of the century charm. Now to find a washer and dryer set...