a Brief Introduction — Drinking with Chickens

The husband admittedly couldn’t see the vision. But he knows me well enough that when I say I have one, he signs off on it sight-unseen.

The same could not really be said for everyone else in our lives. We didn’t show it to many people at first—just our parents and our contractor buddy. And across the board, all the parents were highly concerned about the condition of the house. But what can I say? I had stars in my eyes and really sound-proof earmuffs.

Realistically, it was the only house we could afford in this neighborhood (a neighborhood we REALLY wanted to be in). And we really only afforded it by the hair on our chinny-chin-chins. Certainly, we didn’t have a clue what the hell we were getting into renovation-wise. And renovation budget-wise. But we got through it, little by little.

While the house style could probably be categorized as California Bungalow, or maybe even Craftsman-adjacent, everyone in town, for some reason, referred to it as The Farmhouse. I even remember reading that in the very bare bones real estate description. So I think that subconsciously drove me towards a sort of modern farmhouse aesthetic with our decor choices, and of course, played very nicely with the onset of our backyard chicken lifestyle. Simply put, this house was destined for Drinking with Chickens shenanigans. And we were powerless to resist.