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Look for the House with the Swans. No, Really. You Can’t Miss It.

I’ve been busy.

I’m not gonna lie.

And it’s been great.

From juggling 3 jobs while a co-worker was out last week (I normally only juggle 2), to the usual freelance asides, to painting-yet-not-quite-finishing my bedroom furniture, to photographing a friend with her husband who’s deploying to Afghanistan, to trying to get out and enjoy this heavenly weather as much as possible, the last fifteen-or-so days have been a blur.

The blog has been suffering, for sure, but I figure I need to use this concentrated juice-like momentum to propel other aspects of my life — like expanding my freelance repertoire, working towards moving out of the guest room, and actually doing some of the crazy things I pin on Pinterest.  (Besides just making the food.  Which I do.  A lot.  Bacon guacamole grilled cheese sandwich, anyone?)

The good news, however, is I do have some exciting things planned for this little place in space.  Like telling you about my road trip, which is coming up quicker than expected.  And sharing more recipes, now that it’s light enough to actually decently photograph them in the evening.  And sharing a DIY chalk paint tutorial (previews on the Facebook page) for finishing your furniture.  And yes, I know there are a gagillion of those out there, but this one will be mine.

And you ain’t heard nothin’ until you’ve heard a domestiphobe’s take on a project.

Because we speak the truth.

The straight-up vanilla, ugly, acne-riddled truth.

Forget cost breakdowns and what kind of paintbrush I used — I’m going to share that and then some.  From what kind of beer provides the best hydration for the duration of the project to how many laptop streaming movies it actually took to complete, you’ll get all of the gritty, must-know details.

Mama knows what you really care about.

And now I’d like to take a moment to share something rather extraordinary.

I passed it on my way to a house I needed to photograph for work last week, and it spoke to me.

It said, you have to slow down, ogle, and snap a photo with your trusty iPhone, all while avoiding getting shot by the neighbors.  Because this IS the South.  So watch your back.

So.

Are you ready?

Here goes.

No, this is not some foolish app of iPhone trickery.

Nor do your eyes deceive you.

This IS a house bedazzled, if you will, with plastic swans.

It’s like the owners stood in front of their nice-yet-plain-jane suburban facade and thought, You know?  Some stately white swans sitting atop those matching brick driveway pillars are just what we need to maximize curb appeal.  No, they wouldn’t be “too much.”  They’re white.  They match the siding.  They accent our entry.  And if we don’t do anything else to the yard — nothing whatsoever — it won’t matter because there will be swans.  It will be a revolution in outdoor decorating.  And all of our neighbors will be jealous of our originality.  Yep.  Forget landscaping — we have SWANS.

I think I might want some.

No longer would I have to explain to arriving guests that we’re the “white house with red shutters” or the “fifth house down on the left” or the “one with the leaning white mailbox and unkempt bushes.”

Nope.

I’d just have to say, “Look for the house with the swans.  You can’t miss it.”

It would be awesome.

Hideously awesome.

Like guardians of the driveway, only much meaner than gargoyles.

I mean, have you seen swans in person?

They tried to attack my dog.

No joke.

So bad people would know to stay away from the house with the swans because swans are pretty much the nastiest, badassiest birds around.

Worse than Canadian Geese.

And I’m pretty sure my Home Owner’s Association would love them.

So.  When you start seeing the matching exterior white swan trend flying across the blogosphere, remember where you saw it first.

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