We live at Witzend. Literally. EVERY DANG DAY.
It’s true… we named our house Witzend. It wasn’t a hard decision really, what name to choose – it just flowed… flowed from our lips hourly, sometimes under clenched teeth, a lot of times with me standing in the middle of a room with hands on hips near tears, sometimes at the top of my lungs while watching our littlest Witzend Wee one flip over another piece of furniture (he used to do that… seriously), it flowed like a varsity pour of Pinot at the strike of 5pm, and still does, just less frequently.
Last week we celebrated our 5th anniversary living in our house. A lot has changed, and a lot has stayed the same. The boys were little pint-sized terrors when we moved in, the house was a beasty wreck that was far from a home and, every single contractor and inspector that we had over to assess the project list looked at us with pity and wonderment… “why did you pick THIS house?” “you must be CRAZY” and “I don’t see it…” but we had a vision, we could see past the waist high weeds and tangled woods, defunct pool, graffiti covered bathrooms and out-buildings, the snarled and only half working low voltage electrical system and the façade with 5 different finishes. Yes… FIVE… more on that another day.
The gist is this… While we have made a dent in the projects on our novella level to do list, we have made living here in our bastardized Cape style house a labor of love. Most of it is aesthetics or, as we say, “Lipstick” (on a Pig)… or Bandaids… or Window Dressing but, no matter what we joke about calling it, things change and get a little bit better a little at a time. That’s what is most important, Right?
Every drop of sweat spent clearing out the woods, cleaning up the previous owners trash piles, whacking back stands of overgrown Bamboo forests (the ONLY time I don’t like Bamboo btw), and slapping paint on every surface we can reach with a ladder we are SLOWLY turning a house that resembles a defunct country club (minus a flagpole and valet parking) into something we can consider a home. I mean… it’s ours. I looked at 65 (!!!) houses and we picked THIS one. Which also sometimes translates into “we only have ourselves to blame”.
So, while we may still be dealing with the gross beige wall to wall carpet (with 2 dogs, and 2 boys… you can tell how THAT’S going for us), drop ceilings, a pool that still needs to be re-tiled and the exterior still has those 5 finishes… its just what we do. We live at Witzend and do it proudly. ‘Cause our neighbors seem to like us, it is the perfect place to raise our boys, ideal for killer parties, it is never boring and if we didn’t live here then what would we have to complain about?
When we invite you over for cocktails just be warned. The invitation MAY not always be a beautifully styled table or artfully constructed meal. It may come with the caveat that the firepit of the evening may actually be a bonfire of yard junk in the woods, or that you will be handed a paintbrush or cordless drill and asked to “just come check something out quickly” with me, and you should know that you will never see the same house twice – it is ALWAYS changing.
So welcome to WITZEND my friends… you are now along for a virtual ride and are all honorary card carrying members of “Club Witzend” (the bar is always open by the way).
Cheers to milestones, fall decor and never ending project lists. I hope that despite the somberness of the daily news it will be a wonderful weekend at your own home with those who you love and love you in return.
P.S. If you want to see some creep-tastic, unedited “before” sweat equity pics of Witzend? Click here but don’t say I didn’t warn you.