Family reunion breeds conviviality, thank heavens

Residents of our little village must have wondered what in heaven’s name was going on Sunday at Church Sweet Home.

We clanged the gong, a.k.a. rang the church bell, at least four times that day as we toured folks through our restoration project, a church converted into a home.

The tourists? Tyler’s extended family. We hosted the family reunion of the maternal side of his family, which meets every year at rotating locations. This year was his mother’s turn, and we offered to have her host it at our house.

So 48 folks showed up from North Carolina, South Dakota, Nebraska, Illinois and as far away as Hawaii.

It was raucous and beautiful and strange. After a year and half of staying away from people, we mingled unmasked in the house, in the garage and in the yard; dipped spoons into communal potato salad and baked beans; and breathed the same air. How familiar and weird. I loved it.

As I sat in a lawn chair in the yard surveying the crowd, I wondered if the Methodists who used to occupy our church building ever had a picnic here. The scene reminded me of Georges Seurat’s iconic work, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte — 1884 (an oil painting in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago). “Bedlam,” “scandal,” and “hilarity” were among the epithets used to describe what is now considered Seurat’s greatest work, according to the Art Institute. We reunion-ers didn’t have a lake or parasols, but we did have a dog and ladies in hats. No bedlam here (though a six-year-old hanging onto the bell pull was lifted off the ground at one point in the bell-ringing, to my great surprise!).

Besides tours for the adults (and some inquisitive childrenI just love second graders), Tyler manned the grill for lunch, and we offered sidewalk chalk and a bubble machine for the kids.

We also provided a photo opportunities. We offered folks the chance to dress up as Jacob Blair IV, Tyler’s great-great-great-grandfather, and I also took a photo of the whole Blair clan from the belfry window. It was fun.

I even chose a quote about family for the church sign.

Sunday’s gathering is exactly the type of event for which the church was originally designeda large group of people meeting for fellowship and in love. I am so grateful we can gather again safely.

West side story

Every success story is a tale of constant adaption, revision and change.

~ Richard Branson, entrepreneur

The evolution of the west side of our church conversion project is complete.

Church forefathers have probably stated this very thing over the years. When the building was first built. When it was repainted. When it was sided. Heck (can I say heck on this blog?), even I’ve said it during our renovation of the church into our home.

Here’s how the west side of the church looked when we purchased it in 2017.

Note the fire escape on the side of the building and the old windows (and, oh my gosh, look how rickety the bell tower looked!). You can see the siding that covered up—something—there in the middle between the two stories of windows.

After hauling away the fire escape, replacing all the windows and removing the siding on the second floor in 2020, we revealed beautiful shakes in the peak and in that “frosting” layer between stories. Our talented carpenter, You-Can-Call-Me-Al, replaced the missing shakes, and we painted all the shakes gray. You can see, though, how the edges on the right and left of the middle layer are incomplete. Also, we had a whole lot of dented siding on the first floor (it got dented during a hail storm during reconstruction of the interior of the church).

Finally, this week, Tyler and You-Can-Call-Me-Al addressed the edges and first floor. In three days, the two of them replaced all the dented siding and fixed the sides of the shake frosting layer.

First, Tyler removed the dented siding, revealing an interesting pattern of original wood siding.

How about vertical siding? And diagonal while we’re at it.

I wonder if the original church fathers were trying to add interest to the exterior in lieu of stained glass windows and other traditional church detailing. We also saw that diagonal siding on the bell tower when we stripped it.

The old edging on the shakes bothered me. It looks perfect now.

While You-Can-Call-Me-Al was monkeying around, he climbed up to the bell tower and rethreaded the bell rope, which got off the track somehow and made it so we couldn’t ring the bell. No more! The bell is in working order again (and You-Can-Call-Me-Al is safely on the ground).

Tyler intends to plant a row of bushes along the west side which will complete the look. For now anyway.

I like to walk in the yard and see what Mother Nature is wearing

“Yesterday, I was but a pile of wood chips,” said Mulch, “and today I am grand bedding for your flowers and trees.”

“Yes,” I said, “good job for refuse.”

“You underestimate my worth,” Mulch said. “I encourage water to stick around and discourage weeds from springing up.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, “but I think my husband likes you too much. He told me he was going to go ‘all out’ this year. How much mulch does one man need?”

“Three pickup truck loads, and not a clod more,” Mulch advised.

“Hey, quit picking on Mulch, my dear lady,” said the Front Garden with her two cents. “Mulch makes a nice accent to these blooms. Did you plant these tulip bulbs?”

“Not I,” I said. “We can credit for that Tyler’s uncle, a green thumb if ever there was one. He gave you some much needed attention last fall and determined you could use some fresh bulbs. They are, indeed, pretty finery in your high profile locale.”

“None for me, thank you very Mulch,” the Violets chimed in. “We’re happy blooming where we are planted.”

“As should be we all,” I agreed.

# # #

Today’s headline is modified quote from American novelist Flannery O’Connor. Instead of a yard, she like walking in the woods.

The time comes to finish the basement

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

~Ecclesiastes 3:1
The basement in all its “before” glory (and grime).

Wack to burk.

When we purchased the old Methodist church to turn into our home, the basement was scary.

Most unfinished basements stoke trepidation in those who visit, but this one had the added horrors of ongoing water problems and asbestos floor tiles. The only things it had going for it were that it had the building’s operational toilet, itself a tribute to the unclean, and the potential for a high ceiling. During demolition, we removed the moldy suspended ceiling and the antique tin ceiling above it, leaving us with at least nine feet of clearance in most areas and lots of sunny windows, impressive for a basement.

The basement bathroom was practically spa-like.

During demolition back in early 2018, we also removed the kitchen cabinets and pass-through and created a new doorway to the bathroom, though we still don’t have an actual door. Meanwhile, the furnace room got an impressive makeover. We had big plans back then for the basement.

The basement served as a staging area during renovation upstairs.

As we renovated the main floor and second story, the basement served us well, providing a place to paint, hammer, assemble and store stuff (mainly tools). As the renovation dragged on, our enthusiasm for tackling the basement waned. When we held an open house for the community to show off our work upstairs, the basement was mostly off limits.

But the Summer of 2021 holds promise for ye olde basement of the Methodist church. We have energy! Enthusiasm! Ideas! By gosh and by golly, we’re gonna finish the basement this summer!

The basement as a clean slate.

Here’s how it looks right now. The kitchen–gone. The paneling–gone. The suspended ceiling is long gone. Plumbing and shiny new duct work has been run throughout. (The photo does not show all the Christmas decorations I have stashed down there, which my husband will soon discover and about which he will probably raise his voice. Dagnabit, Monica! Why is all this stuff down here?! You have 10 minutes to get this stuff out of my way and back in the attic. Only he won’t say “dagnabit” or “stuff.”)

We plan to create a mother-in-law’s apartment down there with its own egress plus a few extra bedrooms for our guests. And we have every intention of doing it on the cheap, incorporating our design principle of “recycle, reuse, repurpose whenever possible.” We already have a massive set of second-hand kitchen cabinets and a lot doors, leftover from the reno upstairs. Plus a toilet! Don’t forget the toilet!

That plumbing and shiny ductwork present the biggest challenge. How do we cover it up without sacrificing headroom? I can’t tell you how many YouTube videos and HGTV shows my husband has unearthed in the past 18 months to help us solve this problem. We could just paint everything on the ceiling black (or white), but that approach doesn’t give us any sound-proofing between floors. Like I mentioned, we have ideas, and you’re certain to hear more about this dilemma in future installments.

Speaking of future installments, if you’re not already a subscriber, by all means, subscribe now! Enter your email address in the right-hand column over there (if you’re reading this on your phone, click on those three lines on the upper left corner, then click on “contact” and scroll to the very bottom–fill in your email there).

A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew.

~Ecclesiastes 3:6b-7a

# # #

Catch up on what we’ve accomplished so far in our church conversation. Based in part on this blog, Church Sweet Home: A Renovation to Warm the Soul is the true story of how my husband I transformed a 126-year-old Methodist church into our dream home. It came out in 2020.

Find it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

Greenery for good (and other colors of the rainbow, too)

In honor of Earth Day today, I’m sharing images of beauty taken over the past four years in my yard, specifically the front garden.

I can take no credit for this flower garden. It was originally planted by members of the congregation who used to attend church in what is now our home. It’s now tended by my husband, our hired man and my husband’s uncle when he pays us a visit.

Could those be tulips growing in my yard?
Indeed, yes! Tulips!
Tiptoe … through the tulips … with me.

But tulips aren’t the other perennial growing in this garden.

Daffodils are an optimistic flower. And foolproof.
Tyler planted his “garden art” compass among the phlos before we knew how many beautiful blooms would be thriving there.
Turk’s cap lily are perhaps the most ostentatious flower growing in the garden.

Happy Earth Day. Save the earth, and the earth will save you.

How to spring-clean your bed into a lavish retreat

The master bedroom is my favorite room in the chome.

Many days, the best moment is the one I slip into bed next to my sweetheart.

I’m in bed at least eight hours a night, so I’ve invested in a good experience: the perfect mattress, luxury sheets and pillows designed for my sleeping style (side and back). When I finally crawl into bed, I relish in the comfort.

If you’re spring cleaning, sprucing up your bed should be on your to-do list. Begin by stripping the bed and washing every last linen: mattress pad, sheets, pillowcases, blankets and throws. If you have the sort of mattress that should be flipped and turned, do it now.

If you’re a Southerner, you might iron those sheets before returning them to use. A couple of years ago as I was flipping through an issue of Southern Living, I ran across tips for making the perfect bed and one of them was “Iron the sheets. Whether you send them out to be pressed or do it yourself with plenty of starch, ironed sheets add a polished touch.”

Send them out to be pressed?! When did Southerners start living on another planet? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Southerners for knowing how to make fried chicken and a mean barbecue, but this is where we practical Midwesterners draw line between us and those slow-talking Southerners with the impeccable hospitality. I might be exaggerating, but Minnesotans don’t write letters to lifestyle magazines asking how to fold fitted sheets. We wad them up and stuff them in the linen closet and call it good. (Phoebe Howard, the southern etiquette master answering the magazine’s plaintive letters at the time, added that she likes Washed Cotton Linen Water. What?! Tide. Tide is good. What is linen water?)

For me, the “polished touch” on the bed is clean sheets, not ironed ones. But you do you. If ironing is your jam, have at it.

Fitted sheet on the bottom, two sheets on top.

When you’re ready to reassemble your nest, one of my secrets for transforming a bed into a sanctuary is two top sheets. This adds a lot more value than a good ironing, in my opinion. A second top sheet is a cheap and easy way to improve your sleeping environment.

A representative for Westin Hotels & Resorts suggested this fix in an issue of O Magazine that I read seven years ago, and at first, I was skeptical. But I swear by it now. Lo and behold, a second sheet adds a bit of luxury, a little comforting weight and greater temperature control (which is paramount if you’re menopausal).

Small things matter as evidenced by daily flossing and freshly ground pepper, also both worth the trouble.

I share one warning, however: take care when climbing into bed, or you might find yourself between top sheets. If your sleeping partner is lying between the correct layers, you won’t get the benefit of skin-to-skin contact (but your partner might get a giggle at your expense).

Earlier this week on laundry day, I drafted my father into helping make my bed, and he said he liked the idea enough to try two top sheets, too (see, you can teach an old dog new tricks). Try it. You might like it, too.

Where did you find that?!

When we renovated the old Methodist church that is now our home, we frequently dove into dumpsters to unearth the discarded gems.

A table on the roadside? Turn around! Let’s look!

A king-sized headboard on the curb? Hey, we have room in the back of the truck for that!

Oddly shaped bench painted with odd colors? It definitely has possibilities, load it up!

The grill sits on the table outside on the patio, the headboard was repainted and will be used in the basement when we renovate that portion of the church at some point, and the bench is still in the garage, awaiting reincarnation.

Trash picking fits our goal to recycle, reuse and repurpose whenever possible, one of the 10 Commandments of design we created in the church.

This gem, we picked from the dirt-floor basement of house we rented while renovating the church (permission granted by the property manager). The mirror’s frame was blond wood, and the lines were simply too modern (or possibly, too reminiscent of 1990) to hang it in the church. Instead, we hauled it to Texas. I painted it the same color as we painted the trim inside our condo, and now it reflects light in our entryway.

My husband still peruses dumpsters as he passes them, and he found another mirror that may or may not be transported north.

It’s a mirror built into a tree stump. I think. At first glance, it looks like frame is made of antlers, but no, that’s solid wood, polished and stained. It’s quite weird. Weird can be undesirable or fantastic. It poses the question of one man’s trash/treasure.

Two of the branches (stumps? points?) are cut and flattened, like they are shelves. But shelves for what? Figurines? Tiny vases?

Though it was found in a dumpster near our Texas condo, the antler vibes lead me to believe it is better suited for Wisconsin. Or possibly a dumpster in either state.

What do you think? Ugly? Or unique? If it’s unique, would you paint it? Replace the mirror with a picture (of what?)? What would you put on the shelves?

Look around: church conversions are everywhere

Our little Church Sweet Home is just another in a long line of church conversions. Churches across America (and the world) are losing membership and going on the market, so the opportunities to renovate an old church into a new home abound.

As I admit in my memoir about our church renovation project, Pinterest inspired me:

A quick look through the Pinterest website reveals some spectacular transformations, the sort of metamorphosis that inspired me. But you’ll also find some horrors of awkwardly chopped-up spaces, dark rooms, strange window configurations and thoughtless appropriation of church symbols—like an altar reused as a bar. Ugh.

Search “converted churches” or “church conversions” and you’ll find enough transformative pins to distract you for hours.

Google, of course, will serve up a heaping platter of converted churches, too:

Want a church of your own to turn into your home or one already transformed? Check out realtor.com (someone there has a lot of fun with the headlines):

  • Truly divine! Your personal sanctuary awaits at this Indiana church
  • We pray a buyer finally makes an offer on this former Wisconsin church
  • Bow your heads: Awesome church-to-home conversion for sale in Pennsylvania
  • Hallelujah! Divine townhouse in converted church in Washington, D.C.
  • Strike gold with a converted church and miniature mining town in Eureka, UT
  • This colorful $1.6M converted church could start your Airbnb empire

Tyler still frequents these real estate listings. Quite often, he’ll often show me a run-down church in the middle of nowhere and ask, “Wanna do it again?”

I would do it again! For the right place and the right price, yes, I would.

# # #

I tell the story of how we converted a 126-year-old Methodist church into our home in Church Sweet Home: A Renovation to Warm the Soul.

To get your hands on Church Sweet Home: A Renovation to Warm the Soul, the paperback is $12.49 on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Prefer an ebook? You’re in luck. The ebook is $4.49 and available at Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook and Kobo.

Zoom in sanctuary style

Spent some time on Zoom lately? Who hasn’t? This video communication platform is the hot go-to for socially distanced meetings and work-from-home gatherings.

Even some of my leisure time recently has been spent on Zoom. I’ve attended book club discussions and hosted a family reunion or two on Zoom in the these past pandemic months.

Want to put your best face forward? You can “Touch Up My Appearance” and smooth out your skin tone with the touch of a button.

If you really want to be cool on Zoom, you can look like a pro by getting rid of the piles of books and dirty clothes in your workspace and customizing your background. (Who really wants to neaten up a space when you can utilize technology?)

And better yet? How about upgrading your chaos to a sanctuary? A Church Sweet Home sanctuary?

I’m sharing three images you can use to customize your Zoom background and feel like you’ve upgraded your home zone without all the headache of buying an old church and renovating it.

Zoom Background 1: Kitchen

Zoom Background 2: Entryway

(This one’s my favorite.)

Zoom Background 3: Balcony

Begin by clicking on the image, then right-clicking to find the option to “save image as” and saving it to your desktop (or wherever you store images).

Now log into Zoom and go to Settings, click on “Manage Virtual Background” and choose the image you’ve saved on your desktop. If you’re already in the meeting, click in the upper left corner, then click on the gear symbol, then “Background and Filters.” You might have to click the “Mirror my video” box to get the right orientation on the image. Alternatively, you can change your virtual background during the call by selecting the up arrow (^) next to the stop video button and clicking on the option that says “Choose Virtual Background.”

(Having trouble getting your background to work? Troubleshoot with Google. You’re a smart reader, I know you’ll figure it out.)

If anyone asks about your background, tell them you’re personal friends with the woman who renovated a church. Just another opportunity to name drop your celebrity friends, friend.

How a minimalist color scheme can be cozy

Normally, when I think of minimalism, I think of angular lines and chrome, which is probably neither a complete nor fair definition. Cozy would not have been the first adjective I would use.

Yet, when the world turns topsy-turvy as it has in the past year, people begin to think differently about what makes a cozy home. In COVID-19 polluted world, the idea of living in a space that’s free of excess—one that fosters a sense of calm—has become more appealing to homeowners.

One of the hallmarks of minimalist home design is a monochromic color scheme, and even though I’m not a fan of minimalism (at least in home design), I can wholeheartedly endorse a monochromatic color scheme.

It’s one way to reduce visual clutter, Kelle Dame of Kelle Dame Interiors in Kenosha told the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel recently. Lowering the color contrast can result in a clean look as opposed to contrast which creates energy, tension and stimulation.

I’ve chosen paint colors for two homes in the past three years and went with monochromatic colors in both, and I can attest to the calming nature of a clean look.

In every other house I’d owned, I (or my husband) painted every room a different color mostly because that’s what everyone does, especially in cardboard box-type houses when paint color was usually the most distinctive design feature of the room. But in the chome, I had all kinds of other distinctive features vying for attention—etched windows, high ceilings, a dramatic spiral stairway and original wood floors. I decided I didn’t need a bunch of different paint colors muddying up the canvas. I had every room painted in the same colors to create a cohesive backdrop to everything else going on.

  • For the walls, I chose a light gray inspired by Behr’s Evening White but mixed by Sherwin-Williams. It makes me happy just walking through the rooms any time of day.
  • The trim, a white inspired by Behr’s Bleached Linen, pops against the gray.
  • And the wainscoting, a tan inspired by Behr’s Arid Landscape, brings warmth to the scene (and also is reminiscent of the color it was originally painted).
  • Most of the ceilings in the church are painted in Behr’s Sleek White in eggshell.

More recently, we repainted our condo in Texas.

After painting the entire church in one color scheme, I knew I would do that again in this condo. I decided to switch the dark and light of the original condo paint job by painting the thick, beautiful trim a darker color than the walls. This had the added benefit of saving money on the paint job because we had the ceilings painted the same light color as the walls.

  • I adore the is-it-gray?-is-it-green? vibe of the trim color, called Sensible Hue from Sherwin-Williams Nurturer collection. It calls attention to the most interesting architectural elements of the room—the doors and windows. And the windows become beautiful frames for the view of the lake.
  • A darker color on the wainscoting is Illusive Green.
  • The walls and ceilings were painted in Oyster White.

As a lake home, the condo needed a calm and watery theme (rather than Spanish Revival or whatever was going on before). These paint colors coordinate with the blues and greens of the furniture and accessories we invested in.

How to amp up the coziness value? When monochromatic colors are used, such as whites, creams and other neutral colors, texture will boost coziness, that Kenosha designer Kelle Dame says.

I did that in both homes with jute rugs, baskets, fuzzy throws and textured pillows.

At the church, I mix textures of natural wood, jute rugs, glass and metals.
At the condo, I recently invested in all new bedding, including throw pillows that sport shiny, furry and sequined textures.

An added benefit of going monochromatic throughout an entire home is that it eliminates constant decision making. Once you decide on a scheme, every room is the same. Easy-peasy. And a homeowner needs to save only a few cans of paint in the basement or utility closet for touch-ups.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t admire the paint job in our home. Someday, I expect I’ll go in a completely different direction, but for right now, monochromatic gives me peace and comfort.