On my phone, my Google Home app pings insistently to alert me that someone is at the door. I open it, looking for a surprise package, a local friend, or even the random survey takers that journey on foot around town. It is none of the above. The packages have slowed tremendously to a light trickle of last minute things I’ve forgotten. The pings from the doorbell are the result of burly men in Carhartt jackets, unconsciously moving in front of the bell, slowly skirting on the morning’s ice, in and out of The Mae House. They’re doing all of the last big things to get it to at least 90% so that I may finish the other 10% with friends and family.
I want to yell about them for letting the heat out, or parking in front of my neighbor’s door, but I’m far too busy plopping up a new website, learning my way around graphics, onboarding new employees, and fumbling over the piles of mess I’ve ignored here in Brooklyn. And of course, there are the weekends when I roll up my sleeves and do a project of my very own between those walls. Last weekend it was oiling the countertops and waxing them, so that they’re fully functional. This weekend, it is rolling over the ceiling of the gray room one last time with a fresh coat of paint.
Of all the rooms, I’ve spent the most time in this one. Which was my least liked when I first visited the house. It was simple and didn’t need room for much imagination. That said, somehow, this room has become the most reliable in this season. The only one that I could count on to be safe from the mental and physical mess that overtook the house these last four months. In a strange twist of fate, it has been the most intimate of spaces.
If you’d like to dream with me, here’s a list:
Willaby and Dazed but Amazed sheets in organic cotton and linen
A rattan laundry basket from OKA
Jen Hewett scarves as curtains
A plant from Juanitas plants
A vintage Brazilian coffee bean bag I purchased in Berlin
Yesterday, the electrician hung the vintage plant post I converted into a light post, and lamp at the bedside. A lush sheepskin should be arriving soon, and a leather armchair that’s been living in the room while other parts of the house were done, will be sent to its rightful place. In the coming weeks, the gray room will be the first room to be fully done. It’s the one I feel closest to. And the room that has, as it turns out, churned the most creativity, because of its simplicity.
P.S If you’d like to one day book a stay at The Mae House, you can subscribe (for free) to my newsletter, where subscribers will have first dibs. Stays will be limited and offered seasonally to protect the wear of the old house, the integrity of the work to it and the local community it keeps. More importantly, to make room for my family and others who we’ll share the house with, without compensation.
More Mae House dreaming posts right this way.
(Graphic by Grace.This post includes affiliate links. If you choose to purchase something, we may earn a small commission. As always, thank you for supporting our small business)
