I remember reading an article about a model who threw up her hands and told the world she was sick of perfection and photo shopping and in protest posted pictures of herself without any photo retouching.
She showed her wrinkles and her moles and all her flaws.
And I read the article and looked at the pictures and thought to myself….
….there’s something wonderful about imperfection.
And it got me thinking about our house.
And how I’m always showing you the finished and the styled and rooms without a hair out of place and you might be drinking coffee and rolling your eyes and wondering where my television set is.
Houses were meant for living.
So yesterday, I walked through the house and took pictures to show our house in real life. I left everything where it was and photographed the imperfection, the during, the living, the orange juice and the hairy dog brush.
Here’s a little bit of what real life looks like at the farmhouse.
We’ll start slowly.
The dining room never really looks messy because we only dine there on random occasions.
Here’s Buddy, our golden retriever and his special not-rawhide bone. There are bones just like this all over the house that he hides and you might come across when you are looking for Christmas place settings.
Here’s a better view of the hallway with the random light fixture from upstairs.
Someone left me a comment asking what happened to the red ceiling medallion and the light fixture and did we replace them in the imagination room.
Yes. We replaced the light upstairs and installed the cutest bubble light fixture upstairs and the old light fixture is going over to the gatehouse so it’s sitting here waiting to grow legs.
There’s also a stack of random papers from the mail that I haven’t put away yet.
Still, all in all not too bad.
Until you turn the corner and see this.
Here’s the living room after a Gilmore Girls watching marathon.
Cushions tossed to the floor.
Popcorn bowl next to the fireplace.
My house pillow all smashed.
Here’s a close-up of the orange juice.
And the headbands.
And the remote controls.
And as you pass through to the family room, you’ll spot this on the stairs.
You know. The pile of stuff at the bottom of the stairs that wants to visit the second story….
….but never really does.
Day after day it sits there watching as people walk by it to go upstairs.
That second floor is so close and yet so far.
Here’s the family room.
Here’s the peonies that have seen better days with petals all over the counter.
People spent the afternoon in here drawing and glittering and decorating the bucket list and the bucket the list goes into.
You can see our entire list here.
Here’s the summer bucket and all it’s glitter.
The middle schoolers that live here patiently explained that when you complete something on the list you place it into the bucket.
We can’t just cross it off a list.
That’s so last year.
Here’s the side view of the kitchen with dishes stacked in the sink.
And rolls of paper towels on the counter.
And dirt on the floor from playing football outside.
And a missing mixing bowl that’s in the other room with popcorn in it.
Here’s another view of the kitchen.
With my purse.
And a hairy dog brush.
And just in case you missed it.
Here’s the dog brush in all its glory.
Nothing says real life like dog hair.
And here’s a side view of my desk where I blog.
And all the random papers that never really find a home.
And a picture of an actual land line to one day tell my grandchildren about.
If you open the door off the kitchen to the back porch, you’ll see this.
This is the dirt that made the plants that I took out onto the stone patio.
Here’s the laundry room with its stacks of towels.
And bag of laundry waiting to be washed.
And I won’t be the one washing it thanks to one of the most brilliant decisions I’ve ever made.
I’ll leave you with a view of the back hallway.
Here’s the rug that I’m always straightening when the dogs and the kids run through and knock it crooked and the towels stacked outside the laundry room waiting to be washed.
I hope you liked the tour of a house well-lived with our orange juice and popcorn and pillows on the floor and couches celebrating the Gilmore Girls.
True confessions, though.
I had to pause mid-tour and stop here in the hallway and close the door to my teenage son’s room.
It might be a little too much imperfection for a holiday weekend. 🙂
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