Fall fireplace bats for halloween from the faux martha

The last couple of years, we’ve gotten by with pumpkins for fall decorations and an annual leaf wreath, too. At the age of six, with ideas growing as tall as her height, Hal wanted to take our decorations closer to spooktacular. Her word, not mine. “Spooky like bats, Mom.” Thank goodness the bats are out on Instagram. I knew just what to do— make fall fireplace bats. Read more

Cove Dishwasher from The Faux Martha

“Everyday” is a word I think about a lot. I like to protect it like the prized possession that it is. And by everyday, I’m not talking about the special occasion, I’m talking about loading the dishwasher, getting dressed in the morning, making dinner on a weeknight, driving to work or walking to the grocery store, and digging for your shoes at the backdoor before running out—you know, the things that intersect with your Monday-Friday life, your everyday and every-other-minute life. These tiny, mundane, ordinary occurrences have the potential to make your day go smoothly or completely unravel. For the unraveling reason (and life can unravel way too fast for me), I have this rule for myself—handle the little things within my control ahead of time so that I have the capacity to handle the big things outside of my control. This is me setting myself up to succeed. Or at least trying to. Read more

No Mow Miracle Grass from The Faux Martha

Last summer, we went to Jackson Hole with family, and I fell in love with a grass. I also fell in love with this mint chip green smoothie. It was long and whispy, the grass, with that wind-blown, sideways Justin Bieber hair, so dense and lush, holding on to water like a dew-soaked spider web on a fall morning. It was unlike any grass I’d ever seen in real life. Though, I had a vague memory of reading about eco-friendly grasses in an old copy of Martha Stewart Living, bookmarked on an iPad we no longer had. It had to exist. [Article found by Haley!] I had the perfect spot for it. After an internet search, I found a miracle no mow grass, promised to be drought-tolerant and eco-friendly. Was it too good to be true? Read more

The first year we moved into our urban lot, I started a vegetable garden knowing next to nothing. “Don’t worry Kev, I’ve got this.” I planted in May, where the sun stuck to that sunny sliver running along the driveway, when the snowglobe promised to stop shaking, when the plant store was flooded with humans again. By June, the sun slid high into the sky and stayed there for the rest of the season, throwing complete shade at my small vegetable garden. Despite all odds, produce produced, and Hal learned that food comes from the dirt that summer. The next year, though, I packed up my expensive idea, splintered cedar, and trellis, leaving it on the curb for another optimist, hopefully an optimist with some sun in her garden. Read more

When we started designing our home, I was pretty sure every room would be as colorful as Hal’s turned out to be. Either my color palette was refining itself, or I just couldn’t pull off more than 3 colors at a time. It’s probably the latter. Because in my junior year as a graphic design major, I was reamed in front of the entire class over my color palette choice on a magazine redesign project. I am not so great at pulling off a lot of colors at one time like Jenny Komenda, one of my favorite designers. So we renegotiated a rug, a large piece of framed art, and a couple bright pillows from downstairs to Hal’s room, and they felt right at home and like a cousin to her bathroom.   Read more

Before we moved in, the only spot of color in the house, outside the vintage green pendant in the kitchen, was Hallie’s blue vanity. Brittany, who worked with us to design our home, picked out the color. My brain was so decision fatigued by this point in the building process, after seeing a swatch on a screen, not in real life, I said “Love. Let’s do it.” And we did it.  Read more

Christmas decorations at The Faux House

They don’t make things like they used to. But if you look hard enough, you’ll find a handful of artisans that do—that make things the old fashioned way. They just might not be on the internet. Ha! Our tree stand is one of those things. We bought it 3 years ago from the tree farm where we cut down our tree. And every year you ask, “Where did you get your tree stand?” And every year I go on a hunt that turns up empty answers. Not this year though! I dug a little deeper to find you similar options to our forever, heirloom, high-quality tree stand. Note: quality costs more, so you’ll see prices below to reflect that. Behold. Read more

Fall at The Faux House from The Faux Martha

“Hal, don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”

“Mom, how long do I have to keep my eyes open for?”

“Just a little longer, girlie.” Fall is a wing season in Minnesota, flanking our two longest seasons—winter and summer. If you blink, you just might miss it. Read more

 
 
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