When you visit, a cool glass of water is probably served to you as you sit comfortably chatting with your host. Which cabinet the glass came from, or how close that cabinet was to the refrigerator, is rarely given a second thought.

When you visit, you generally don’t need to do the laundry or take out the trash.

Most visitors don’t need to blow dry their hair – or brush their teeth – or even replenish the roll of tissue paper.

These daily tasks are generally taken care of during, well… life. They are daily (and by daily I don’t mean to imply they are only to be attended to once a day – simply – they are done each day as a part of the normal day.)

But therein is the challenge. They are daily. They are a part of the routine – and as such need to flow with the rhythm of our lives so they don’t use up precious brain cells and energy each time they happen.

Every home we experience has its own personal quirks nuances. They make life fun and exciting. Interesting even. But our lives are not only adventure.

We still wake up and brush our teeth….daily.
Get a glass of cold water. Wash a load of laundry. Take out the trash…daily.

So it becomes important to know that those daily tasks that are just the rhythm of life flow naturally. Easy, smooth.. a steady rhythm.

For me, that means having things within usable reach and convenient. Predictable. Dependable.

For me, that means finding creative ways to solve “design challenges” we may encounter.

So when the powder bath of a home we recently staged had no linen cabinet within site (actually, not even on the same floor…) I knew I had to get creative. I appreciate fresh, clean hand towels. I like fresh, clean hand towels easily accessible. I did not want to run upstairs to the official linen closet any time the hand towel needed refreshed.

But neither did I want to build a cabinet. Or spend much money buying one.

So while walking down the clearance aisle at the local discount store… I saw what I knew was not intended to hold hand towels, but would work fantastically serving the purpose.

Thinking outside the “box” (or the cabinet) helped me see rolled up towels where wine might have been.

Behold, the sommelier of the POWDER ROOM~~~

Life in the Living Model enjoys those same cozy nooks. We like the place “to get away” from the TV and yet enjoy being near family. We like to play cards and games or read or draw, or just sip some tea and read the paper. So in each Living Model in which we live, you will usually see our cozy nook and game table:

Looks inviting enough? We like to play Scrabble.

But our Scrabble game is a bit different.

Life in the Living Model adds a twist to cozy corners like you see above. Our “game” is also our message board. It’s a bit of creativity – a bit of thinking – and like any good game – fun. It’s become a tradition for  Life In The Living Model to play this game after all the set-up of moving is done and we need to just sit back and have some creative fun.

Look closely at our Life in the Living Model Scrabble board….and you’ll see what I mean!

And after our game… our board stays up for all visitors (ahem…. potential buyers) to see and get the message feel the fun!

Now how fun is that??

- oh wait- wrong song! It’s not the whole earth. Just my little world.

Box by box, piece by piece – we’re movin’ on.

This move has gone smooth. And smooth is what you aim for with a move. “Easy” might be a bit Pollyann-ish but smooth is a worthy, attainable goal.

Here are my “10 Managing Many Moves Maneuvers” to help you who join me on this journey.

1. Plan Ahead. Purposeful. Plenty. Thinking is easier than moving a sofa. Before move day, if you can get the floor plan – do. If you can’t, visit the new place and stand and stare. And measure. Then take the graph paper and play paper dolls/house with your pieces. You’ll get at least a good idea where the big pieces should land.
2. Hire Help. Sounds Simple. Don’t doubt – just do it.
3. Label Label Label. Invest in a BOLD BLACK marker or two and maybe even get carried away and get a couple of different colors so that you can sort while you label. For example, boxes labeled to go to the new place are labeled  by room in bold black like: DINING. But, maybe this new dining is minus the built-in shelving and some previously used display pieces need to go to storage. I don’t want to have to pack them, move them to the new house, unpack them, repack them, then move them to the storage myself… so I pack them in a separate box and label them in bold red like: STORAGE DINING ACCESSORIES. So if this seems like a lot of writing – reread the sentence before. I think the writing is a lot easier in the end.
4. Put on your drill sergeant hat (and of course a smile). Your moving team is there to help you. But they are human. They are streaming your boxes and furniture in from the truck like little ants building a mound… and they see the boxes in the truck waiting for them so naturally they want to haul ‘em in and heave ‘em down. Haul ‘em in. Heave ‘em down. Anywhere. Everywhere. But you have labeled them. If the box of books you labeled LIBRARY (for the library is upstairs) – is heaved down on the floor in the KITCHEN downstairs, guess who gets to move the books upstairs? You don’t want that to be you. So with your smile and your sergeant hat make sure the boxes and furniture lands in the right spot.
5. Banish the Boxes. Hire more help for this. It is so worth it. As my boxes are being delivered, I had found a couple of organized, hard working ladies who were “unpacking” them as quickly as they were delivered. True, I might have to rearrange the plates and soup bowls later. But at least my kitchen isn’t sitting packed away in 15 different boxes. Shifting from shelf to shelf is much easier once everything is visible and the boxes are out of the way. Which leads me to another Move Maneuver….
6. What boxes come in- must go back out…empty and flat. Make arrangements with your movers to move your empty boxes back to your storage. Hey – you’re probably going to have some items going to storage anyway so as soon as the moving truck is empty, have those big strong moving men load the empty, flattened boxes back on the truck and take them away. Feels so  good you’ll feel like singing  “Calgon…. take me away” as you see them go!
7. Like Momma always said… Make your Bed! When moving, this is one of your best investments. I have the movers be sure to assemble all the bed frames when they bring them in. And I had the ladies helping me make all the beds. It makes it feel like home. And then when the day is done and my body is ready to sleep – a warm shower and fresh clean sheets are waiting. Much better than crawling up to sleep and finding a bare mattress laying on the floor while you trip over the bed frame.
   
8. Handle it once and be done. Try not to pick up something more times than you have to. If I have to move the mirror out of the way of the chair – I want to put it down where is needs to be hung not in another place where I will have to move it again. Once is enough.
9. Have the Hardware. You know what you’ll need. I like the “miracle monkey hooks” and Ook hangers for hanging stuff with very little holes. I know I need to keep my tools accessible. I know I need healthy snacks. And cleaning products. And the obvious – tissue paper not packed in the back corner of the truck. Think of this part like you are packing a “storm survival kit”. What will you need to have on you?
   
10. Don’t dawdle. The more focused you can be, the sooner the “new home” becomes “your home” and you can continue on with the good stuff of life.

Well, those are just a few tricks of the trade I’ve learned. Last move was easier than the previous. And this one easier than the last. So it can be done! We had 1 day for packing, 1 for move-in and unpacking, 1 for arranging, and 1 for hanging the art/mirrors and tweaking the arrangements. 4 days in all.

And margaritas last night! Worth celebrating!

Here are some a few tips we have found to keep in the groove while we move….

• Shed the extra layers. I think it was Shrek who said “layers are good, in a parfait!” But this isn’t a parfait. I don’t need to take already read magazines, shoes that hurt my feet, or expired cough syrup along on my move. If I don’t need it, I don’t need to move it.
• Let your brain make the first move. If the first time I think about where the antique armoire should be placed in the new home is when it is being carried in… then that armoire is probably going to have to try out several different spots before it finds its perfect place. While my moving team is strong and has incredible endurance – a couple of trips up and down the stairs with the same armoire tries even the most patient of them. Plan it out. Get the floor plan of the new place and with a measuring tape, a pencil, and a few copies of the floorplan, I can “move” my armoire to my heart’s content, all without leaving my desk.
• Plan your work, and work your plan. My calendar is my friend. Once “move date” is scheduled, I can schedule. I have found if I plan it, and work my plan, we don’t have to be “packing” weeks ahead nor living out of boxes for months after. It’s on the calendar. Then it’s done.
• Be sure you know pack your linens accessible, the movers set up the beds, and then get your beds made first. There is nothing more disappointing than sleeping on the floor after a long day. And there is nothing better than sleeping in your own bed – and clean, fresh sheets at the end of a long day are reward in themselves.

Just a couple of tips to help a few days of scramble less hectic.

We’re excited about what’s ahead.

When we buy that place for our family – we’re looking for more than bricks and drywall. We may think carpet matters and “Applesauce Cake” painted walls are priority – but I think when it comes down to it we’re looking for something a lot more personal than carpet or paint or  even **gasp**…

square footage.

We raise our families in them. We laugh. We cry. We share our meals and our boys climb our trees and our teenagers hang out with their friends in them. We collect our stuff and we celebrate Birthdays and Christmases and connect with our friends and family. The sounds of our music resonates through our homes and life dances there.

When we buy a house -

We’re looking for a home.

When we look for a home -

We’re looking for a feeling.

A warm, welcoming, cozy feeling.

From the first step in that brick and mortar house – when we are looking for a home to buy – we’re all tuned into that deeper connection inside that says either

“Not really us…”

OR

“Now this is home”

It’s not easy at all to define.

But its very, very simple to recognize.

It’s that deep sigh-
The feeling
That lets your body relax and your heart melt ♥.

We realize this truth.
But sometimes, as the dance of life leads, the family must move on. The home that once was a perfect fit for their life, it just doesn’t fit exactly for them anymore. It is time for another family to dance in, feel the feeling, and begin their own dance of life there.

So what happens when you leave a home, full of warmth and memories? You hope another family will feel the feeling and it take as their own, right? But the challenge lies when your life dances out, and the house is left to sing its song of welcome all alone. It’s harder for brick and mortar to sing when left alone. Sometimes the vacant walls echo. Or the harshness of the overhead light bounces off the empty corners. For some people, it is just plain hard for them to imagine warm and cozy in cold and empty.

That’s what I love about living as a Resident Home Stager. I know this home was loved. It became a part of a family’s life. But when they left, the shell of the house was left lonely and bare. I love bringing the life. I love knowing my dance of life will open up the hearts of another’s and they will find the perfect home that lets them “feel the feeling”.

As I said earlier -

It’s not easy at all to define.

But its very, very simple to recognize.

Which would you want to dance your dance of life in?

Summer in Texas can be sweltering very warm.
Our air-conditioners purr sweetly along bringing us the fresh, cool air we love. Sometimes, fresh, cool air that my Guy chills to the point I feel like a Popsicle, but I digress (our issue, not Texas’s).

So  2 days ago we began to feel just a hint of  “Texas Summer”. That wouldn’t have been so surprising, had it been summer. Or had we been mowing the lawn. Or on a jog. Or maybe shopping the outdoor market. Or just anything outdoors.

But we weren’t.
We were relaxing in our family room watching a movie.

So we clicked the thermostat lower. Maybe a bit more…. then because if you do something once and it doesn’t really work – do it 3 times. After repeatedly poking the thermostat lower, and not getting that familiar quick freeze that brings smiles to the guys and the throw blankets out for the ladies, and after actually thinking that perhaps Austin had skipped from May to July….

We came to the obvious brilliant conclusion that something was wrong with the air-conditioner.

Thankfully, this was Thursday evening rather than Friday evening. Friday evening always precedes the weekend. And while the weekend is usually the favorite 3 2 days of my week – it is NOT the time to either get sick NOR loose your air-conditioning. Even if it is just May.

Long story short- we were able to have an angel of air-conditioning repair our faltering condenser the very next day. And it is still May, so overall there was little harm done.

But as quick and painless as this breath of fresh air was for us, in this case,

The angel of air-conditioning did deliver a message that would make any homeowner shudder:

“had you not caught this, and had the air conditioning kept trying so hard to do what was mechanically now impossible… your unit would have soon burned out completely.”

Yea!
We were here.
We did recognize the normally chilled air was getting a bit stuffy.
We caught the issue before it became a catastrophic, costly problem.

It’s just part of what we do.

And it feels good.

The next task on the Home Front was to knock the wicked uninhabited wasp nests down. So armed with an extension pole – my brave and valiant man gave the nest a knock.

The nest quickly fell to the first floor roof below and rolled… straight into the rain gutter.

This – as it happens – was a very fortunate roll.

A very simple step up a ladder would have that nest flipped on out of the gutter and into the yard. No more ferocious flying beasts wasps.

However, the very fortunate roll that landed the nest in the gutter allowed us to find something far more threatening than wasps.

As the nest tumbled down the roof toward the edge, it didn’t bounce off or over the gutter, as one might have expected. Instead, the tumbling ended with a rather soft splat in the gutter on the edge of the roof. And when the nest came to rest – there was a noticeable amount of “rippling” flowing out from where the nest landed. Hmmm… rippling…. as if you had thrown a stone into a pond.

But this was no pond, this was the gutter on the roof. A roof that had not seen rain in, well, quite awhile. Certainly enough weeks that any gutter should have been dry as a whistle.

Instead, the gutter resembled a small pond. Obviously, there was a dam in what should have been a flowing stream.

Look what was stuck in our gutter….

Blob of Tennis Ball Goo

This… my dear readers… was stuck in the gutter, damming up the water (from who knows when – its been pretty dry here!), forming a bit of a “mini-lake” just over the steps leading our back porch into the yard, and saturating the roof as the edge of a lake soaks into the sand.

The flow of water, bark, mud, leaves, and blob of tennis ball  that poured out of the dammed up gutter was comparable to the flow one might expect during a heavy spring rain.

The stagnant, pool of water that was sitting in the gutter, at the roof, since who knows when. Well let’s just say the wasps did us (and the homeowner) a favor.

Spring also means other things. And by other things, in Austin, Texas… in May… that means wasps.

My husband has had a long-standing phobia respect for wasps. So because of this… he has this super-duper sensory for them. They don’t have to be threatening us… or even flying around… or even close.  I think he feels the vibration of their nasty intricate wings.

Anyway – last weekend whilst sitting under the trees on our lush, green lawn my husband spots them. Not the wasps – yet – but definitely their nests. Three of them. All around the back door to our inviting backyard.

Fortunately… Super-Duper Wasp Hunter spied them and their nests before any unsuspecting  Realtor with their prospective home buyers got to meet them. Fortunately… Super-Duper Wasp Hunter keeps a can of 30 ft. spraying Raid around. Fortunately…. Super-Duper Wasp Hunter lives in this beautiful home and was patrolling enjoying the backyard.

But let’s face it… it’s necessary.

One of the first benefits we brought to the homeowner of our current living model was… flushing.

The home had been sitting vacant, so naturally… the pipes and assorted plumbing attached to the pipes had not been frequently…uhmmm – used.

Then came move-in day. One of the first sounds we realized in our new place was that it “sang” to us. Not the sweet, mellow sound of Norah Jones. Nor the energetic, motivating rock of Boston. No, this was more a rattling, whining scream that built up in a crescendo… rattling anything near… before trailing off and giving us our peace back.

This was the downstairs toilet on it’s last few flushes.

When we moved in and heard the song of the pipes, it took only a few verses before we made a quick trip to the hardware store and purchased an inexpensive kit to address the issue. A few minutes to correctly read the instructions and grab the household tool kit, a yank on the jeans to properly position my “plumbers uniform” – and

Voilà!

For the homeowner – a small plumbing disaster is diverted.

For us – a quiet toilet is a happy toilet!

When we are children – our parents help us gather, collect and keep our stuff.

In our teen years we look around at our peers to see what stuff we must have.

We go to college… cram our stuff into a tiny dorm room – forget to dust our stuff – but still we have stuff.

Graduations, New Jobs, Marriages…. we celebrate them all with more stuff. And we love it! Our stuff makes us feel more comfortable and personalizes our world. We get to play and have fun with some of our stuff. We relax amongst our stuff and share our stuff with those we love.

Don’t get me wrong…

Stuff is not bad.
Stuff is not wrong.
Stuff happens to us all.

But one thing I have come to realize is…

My stuff is not me.
I am not my stuff.

And I have to say that in the process of enjoying living in these new and different homes… in these new and different places… each with their unique personalities and features…

I have found I enjoy experiencing life less attached to my stuff and more present in the moment.

The beautiful chandelier in the entry does not define me. I get to enjoy it. I get to live in its glow and feel it welcome me home in the evening. It is a treasure for my eyes and adds pleasure to my days… but my value is not dependent upon this chandelier. Each lovely home brings its own chandelier… or special garden or room color or kitchen or view out the window. There will be different treasures to be found in each.

And I am feeling so free to enjoy each and every one of them…

without collecting more stuff!!

For me… I am enjoying the lightening of a load heavy from the accumulated years of attachments to stuff.

A cleansing of the clutter
A simplification of the complicated
New freedom

Yes, I still have some very special and treasured stuff. I enjoy perusing through some of it for memories. I appreciate the convenience some of my stuff offers me. And the comfort. And the fun.

But I am weeding out the stuff that was just taking up space. I am letting go of stuff that is only that… stuff. And with less stuff just hanging on for the ride – I have found those treasures which are truly that to me…

Treasures

And for that… I am truly thankful.