June's stupid life

June starts to show you her house, changes mind

I was exhausted after my harrowing workday yesterday. I’d planned to make breadless meatloaf per my new diet (pounds lost: zero), but I was so tired I said screw it, I’m driving through Subway, this bad-for-me place, despite what Jared says about it.

The good news is I asked for Baked Lays and they gave me, you know, regular Lays. So that was exciting. Why haven’t I shed even a pound?

After I ate my Subway, exhausted, I lay on the couch, I regular-Lays on the couch, exhausted, until 9:30, which felt like a fairly undepressing time to go to bed. I don’t remember one moment after that until 5:30, when I was wide awake.

Which brings us here, now, together in our torrid embrace.

Yesterday morning, on (Face)book of June–

–if you want to be a member you have to email me and give me your Facebook name so I can invite you because we’re private and extra exclusive. And if you have no profile picture or one friend you ain’t gettin’ on. Same with requests to follow me on Instagram. In what world would someone say, Okay, yeah, weird secretive faceless stranger. Go ahead and follow my private life while you have no identity at all. Yay!

ANYWAY, yesterday on (Face)book of June, I mentioned I hadn’t had time to write a blog post yet (see above re exhaustion) and asked if anyone had ideas for what I could write at lunch. You DID have ideas, but then I didn’t have enough time at lunch to write anything (see above re exhaustion).

And that brings us here, now, in our torrid embrace.

Please stop, June.

It’s early in the a.m., and I was tryin’ to think about what to write you up in here, and I remember someone said, Show us your house, and I was all, Haven’t I already? It’s a small house, y’all. Less than 1,000 square feet. I think you’ve seen it. But maybe I haven’t gone room to room to show you, so here we are. In our torrid embrace.

The thing is, what really makes my house lovely is the light it gets, and it’s dark AF right now. If you ever want to get on my nerves, please say “O’dark-thirty.”

But, since here we are, in our torrid embrace, and you asked for photos of my house and the only time I can seem to get them to you is o’dark-thirty

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh, god, that’s funny.

I show you my House in Darkness.

We start with a 10-second video of the front of my house, because I wanted you to enjoy the pretty stairs that lead to my place. The neighbor across the street has a rooster who crows so often I wonder if I’m Peter, but did that red-combed motherfucker make a SOUND while I was out there? Actually, yes. He did. Just as I was walking back in. Dammit.

Since you can’t see much in that video, here are my pretty steps from another day, and someone please pick up on the theme of these photos, which is that Edsel is obsessed with me.

View from porch. There’s a Knights of Columbus hall at the end of the next block and I am dying to go there and drink nickel beer and get a migraine.

When I bought this house, they told me it was built in 1932, but now that I’ve gotten to know the neighbors and become obsessed with a woman’s Instagram who lives in a house IDENTICAL TO MINE but on the next block, I think it was really built in the ’20s.

Some of the houses are in not-great shape, but others have been taken care of, including mine, and they are charming.

Here is the view of my living room from the front door. My goal, actually, was to find a house that had some sort of entryway, but I did not, in fact, find that. What I did find was a dirt-cheap house that was in great shape and had character.

The woman whose Instagram I’ve become obsessed with, the one who lives on the next block, showed her doorbell, and it is cool as shit, cool AS, and I KNEW IT WOULD BE when I saw this outline of mine on my door. My new goal? To find one and put it back on the door where it belongs.

From the living room you go to a little square hallway, where you have the choice of going to my bedroom (left) for a torrid embrace, the den (right), the bathroom (straight ahead) (Milhouse often locks himself in there with a magazine, which is why the door is closed at present) or the kitchen (also left, but leftier than the bedroom). It’s the Hallway of Possibilities.

Really, this would be SO MUCH PRETTIER in the daylight. You know what? Let’s revisit this tour when the sun is shining.

But since we’re here, in our tor–

Since we’re here, we can at least now look in my backyard, where a tepid sun is coming up and when is it finally gonna be actually nice out?

Here is the view from my kitchen window, and what you’re looking at is the flimsy fence I have to replace and also the pear tree, and see the other blooming tree behind it? A reader told me that’s a depressed cherry or something like that. They’re both so pretty. That pear tree gets about a million pears on it, and when I moved in in late September I got to eat maybe 10 pears, still.

So that’s partially my house, with more pictures to come when it’s all light and lovely in here.

My candle burns at both ends, it cannot last the night. But o, my friends and o, my foes it leaves a lovely light.

Half-touringly,
Joop

50 thoughts on “June starts to show you her house, changes mind

  1. Dear June,
    You have done such a lovely job decorating your CHARming home! It’s so perfectly YOU.
    Have a great weekend!
    Love,
    Texas Kari
    P.S. I emailed you to request to join the facebook group. Fingers crossed!! heehee.

    Like

  2. I think your house is charming, nice and small and cozy, just perfect. It’s hard to imagine that a family lived and played and worked there. If you watch any of those HGTV shows, everything today has got to be bigger and better…all the kids have to have their own bedrooms AND bathrooms and the house has to be a bajillion square feet! Dayum! I look back and think how in the hell did my parents raise 7 kids in an old 1865 farmhouse with one bathroom…and since the bathroom was added on in the 60’s…they actually “wood paneled” around the tub so taking a shower was out of the question and everyone had to take a bath! Privacy was not a word in our vocabulary back than…lol.

    Your flowering trees are lovely, especially your weeping cherry. (We have one too!) I was wondering if there are any magnolia trees in your neighborhood, they are beautiful too.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Before I can even bother to read the lovely comments, I had to jump in and say I love your house! It’s so sweet. And I am bone-achingly jealous of your doors. I dream of putting in doors like that in this house. A dream that will, sadly, never be realized…unless I win the lottery.

    Like

  4. Wow, June! I do love this house. It made me feel very lonesome though – for my house in Phoenix on Holly. When you were here, when I was steeped in tragedy, that is where I lived but I don’t recall that you ever came to my house. Just to Matt’s and then to Deb’s. My memories are foggy from that time as you can imagine. But – my house was an adobe – built in 1929. It was just shy of 1000 sq feet but an addition made it about 1200. It had all those doors like yours and crystal doorknobs. Mike made me glass doors for the cupboards. It had satillo floors throughout – but that is an AZ thing. It was very light and bright – lots of windows and painted pale yellow throughout. I miss that house with a passion. I am so happy for you to have found such a delightful home! And you know what? I have my doorbell from my lovely NC home too – it is packed somewhere…?… ha ha. It is a tiny lighthouse and I am waiting to find a new door for it! sigh. love ya…

    Like

  5. Your house is spotless. Amazing with the 5206 pets you have.

    I had been trying to thank my house as often as possible because that’s what Marie Kondo said to do, but literally 3 days after I started thanking it, the ceiling leaked in 6 places. So I now just swear at it and resent the money suck it is, and I think we are both happier for it. Marie doesn’t realize some houses are sadistic and appreciate the abuse.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. I love your charming little house, June. I’m also a lover of morning light. As I sit at my kitchen table with my coffee, I can look out the window and watch the sun rise.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Love the light coming into your charming kitchen. I love early morning light but hate having to get up so early to see it.

    Like

  8. I hope the fence company doesn’t destroy that beautiful old fencing. Maybe they could gently roll it up and a picker like myself could repurpose it.

    Like

  9. I am in love with your doors and glass doorknobs. So cool. So, I too, would like to be on the Facebook page but do not know your email address. Could you send it to me? My email is leanneturner17@gmail.com. I promise I have a profile picture and some friends!

    Like

  10. Those two lights at the steps, the dog backlighted at the door, and pussycats inside…home sweet home. I’m happy for you.

    Like

  11. I love those interior doors! I found one similar on the side of the road recently. I’m going to make it into a headboard. Because I’m 45 years old and haven’t had a headboard since I moved out of my parents house! I’m cheap.

    Like

  12. What a darling abode. I love it that you notice and love how the light falls in the rooms of your house. Thanks for sharing all those pictures with us. A pear tree! Wonderful.

    Like

  13. Love the house. But don’t tell me you haven’t been down to the K of C on Friday for the Lenten fish fries? Best fish ever!

    Like

  14. No advice, but I worry that a 6’ fence will ruin that view. Of course, a dead dog will too, so I’m no help. Lovely, Torrie M. Brace.

    Like

    1. My aunt had a lovely Bradford Pear tree, it was her late mother’s favorite and they lost it. I forget how. They live in Pennsylvania in Amish Country.

      Like

      1. I don’t think you mean Bradford pear. They are the devil’s tree. They don’t produce fruit, the blossoms smell like a cross between dead fish and sperm, and they are an out of control invasive species. Devil’s tree I tell you.

        Like

          1. My aunt called it that, and it did splinter. She is an avid gardener and does a lot of research first but perhaps she didn’t on that particular tree? They have a 4 acres. She was the last stop on the local garden tour for a number of years. I am not a gardener, my late husband was.

            Like

  15. Thanks for the mini-tour! It’s looking so cozy. White dresser—> thumbs up! We have several architectural salvage places here that people go to for finding their vintage stuff. Maybe there’s one in your area. Or that Mid-century Modern Guy’s place might be helpful.

    Like

  16. Lovely, lovely home. There’s nothing like an old home. Renovators Supply has old (new) items to keep your old house looking like it did when it was built. I am calling you wonderful home old in the most loving way. Your yard is great. I bet Chris and Lily can tell you how to care for the fruit trees. Can’t wait to see the house in full light.
    Tee

    Like

  17. Sign me up, please! Rebecca Shaw on FB –if you want to be a member you have to email me and give me your Facebook name so I can invite you because we’re private and extra exclusive. Sent from my iPhone

    >

    Like

    1. There are about 3294393042304 Rebecca Shaws on Facebook–I just looked. Is there anything that would help me know it’s you? Or you can friend Karen Sommerfeld and right then I’ll know.

      Like

  18. Lovely house, Joon! Reminds me of our first house in Ohio. It was a little Cape Cod that we bought from the original owner. He had owned it for 35 years. My favorite part was in the basement where he had marked all the water pipe shut off valves with little paper tags. They read “bathroom spicket”, “toilet” , “kitchen spicket”, etc. All lovingly printed with a dark lead pencil on a paper tag. It was charming! (The house and the paper tags)

    Liked by 2 people

  19. Love your house! I live in Indiana in an 1110 sq ft bungalow built in 1922, quite similar to yours. My favorite feature of my house are the arched doorways. You might try Houzz.com for your doorbell. Look forward to seeing more pictures when light is better!

    Like

  20. What a darling, happy little house. You’re gonna find that doorbell. I just know it.

    Happy Friday!

    Like

    1. Also all this talk about doorbells reminded me of the doorbell on the house of my best friend from childhood. (Best because her house was right behind mine – our backyards were connected.) ANYWAY! Her doorbell was on the middle of the door and was a thing that you turned and it rang a bell that almost sounded like a bicycle. I could have just knocked on the back door, but I always ran around to the front because I loved ringing that bell so much. I can barely remember what I did yesterday, but I can remember the sound and feel of that bell.

      Now I gotta go see if I can find one!

      Like

  21. You probably want a vintage doorbell, one similar to what was on the house, but there are lots of doorbell covers on Etsy. Not advice. Also, once you go to Etsy, your day is lost. And now I want a new doorbell cover.

    Like

  22. You’re re-do of the piece in the living room (that’s Instagram’s word for all things that we’re to focus on, ‘this piece, that piece, I found this piece – just say furniture fortheloveofgod) is fabulous, June!
    Also, your pear and your weeping cherry tree? Check with your neighbors who have fruit trees as well since we’re in different states but you will probably need to spray them at least once this year. We moved into our current home and loved the droopy tree with the pretty pink flowers in the spring, it was right at the corner of our worlds-largest-deck-I-said-the-deck-was-too-big-before-we-bought-this-place and last year it looked very sick. Then it died. Someone said “you sprayed it, right?” Yeah, no, we didn’t.

    Like

      1. Yeah, right? The same family lived there since the ’60s and I think that had something to do with it. I know them, and they are a happy people.

        Like

Comments are closed.