Holiday Decorations and a Few Links to Inspire

I love these final days leading up to Christmas.  I'm finding inspiration nearly everywhere I look, such as in the sparkling play of light when I lean a poinsettia against a votive candle in front of the Christmas tree.  Suddenly the bracts seem to transform into stained glass, making the whole plant look like flames.  This would be lovely for a holiday party.  Simply cut bracts from a poinsettia, place them in individual florist water holders, and then place them in front of lit votives.  I used real candles, but the battery ones would be great, and they wouldn't make the plant too hot.  I could picture several of these on a shelf, a sideboard, or lining a mantle.

Storms have knocked down several branches from our trees, so I've gathered up the greens to use on the mantle, tucking birds' nests and pine cones (which I sprayed with adhesive and then sprinkled with silver glitter) into the boughs.  I've also included a vintage birdhouse, some lovely candles, and a string of battery-powered fairy lights from Terrain that are wrapped with glass beads.  Beneath the greens I've hung the garland I made a couple of years ago from old keys and pinecones strung on a pretty chain that I found at the crafts store for just a few dollars.

My little Christmas village is at home on an old silver-plate tray I found a few years ago at Goodwill. I didn't have any of that wonderful sparkly faux snow to spread on the tray, so I simply used kosher salt mixed with a little silver glitter, which looks gorgeous and cost me basically nothing.

I placed the little sparkly house above on a white plate, which I then sprinkled with my kosher salt snow mix.  Then I covered the whole thing with a beautiful glass cloche for an elegant snow globe effect.

Trader Joe's was selling hellebores for a song, so I scooped this one up and just popped it into one of the stone urns that I'd brought inside from the garden for the winter.  It's been blooming for two weeks, and it shows no sign of stopping.  I'm hoping I can keep it going inside until early spring, when I'll plant it in the garden.

I'll have more posts this week on decorations, gifts, recipes, and more.  In the meantime, visit my friend Robin for a beautiful Christmas post and a tour of her gorgeous home all decorated for the season.  

I've also been inspired this year by the holiday recipes and ideas at Food52.  Now I just have to narrow it down to one or two recipes.  Maybe the rugelach . . .   

Finally, for videos that will help you be your glamorous best at holiday parties, visit Lisa Eldridge. She is, hands down, my favorite makeup artist, and her videos are not only inspiring, they are a joy to watch.  She gives fantastic beauty advice for women of every age.

More very soon, chickadees!  xo Gigi

Home for the Holidays . . . and All Year Long

Hellebores on my father's antique desk in the dining room.  

I've been wanting to write an update about our house all fall, and I'm finally getting to it now, at the very time that Compass is running a series called Starter Stories, featuring bloggers posting about their first apartments, their starter homes, or the homes that gave them a fresh start.  Urban Compass is a very user-friendly real estate platform that connects folks looking for apartments in NYC with neighborhoods that suit their personality and preferences.   

The side table at night in the dining room this past fall.  

I'll share a photo later this week of it with the manger for Christmas.  

I'm excited to participate in the series, since we've lived in seven apartments, one loft condo, and three houses over the twenty-four years that we've been together, and I know a thing or two about the challenges and rewards of finding just the right place to call home--whether it's your first place or your eleventh!  And while this wee cottage is far from our starter home, it has definitely been our start-over home.  

Old books find their way into every room in the house.

As I've written about before, I believe that a place can save you, if you let it.  Mr. Magpie and I moved back here to Portland, Maine, after two decades of school and jobs had carried us off to distant places.  Returning to the city where we first met was probably the most important decision we've ever made for ourselves as individuals and as a couple.  We'd gone through a heartbreaking time in our lives, and we desperately needed to move and start fresh.  But we couldn't just sell our loft condo in Massachusetts, buy a house here in Maine, and be done with it.  The recession had dropped to its lowest point, and our condo's mortgage was under water.  Selling wasn't an option. So, like many other folks at the time, we rented the condo out to tenants, and then became tenants again ourselves.  After several years of being homeowners, it was a bit of an adjustment, but a necessary one if we wanted to live in Maine.

An autumn vignette in the living room

We rented here in Portland for a couple of years, saving our pennies and biding our time until we were finally able to buy our home in the summer of 2012.  It was actually a more exciting day to me than the day we bought our first home.  As some longtime readers know, during the first month after we moved in, we set to work right away, making this place our own.  One of the first things we did was to paint the rooms in shades inspired by the Maine coast.  In the two years since then we have expanded the gardens outside each summer, turning them into tumbling, colorful cottage gardens.

The Hobbit Garden in midsummer, with phlox, bee balm, Abraham Darby roses, lavender, salvia, and petunias blooming.

Scarlet runner beans and nasturtiums at the back door.  In the foreground is a Bridal veil spirea.

Looking from the spot where the Hobbit Garden (named for its curving wattle fence) transitions into the little woodland garden.  On the other side of the fence are our herb gardens and the patio.  The wild looking arbor is made from branches and this past summer it was covered in scarlet runner beans and sweet peas.

One corner of the herb garden ( taken in Fall 2013, while we were building the arbor)

As much as I love the gardens, I find myself also loving winter hibernation in this house.  The Christmas season never fails to stir the most domestic of feelings in my magpie heart.  As soon as the first snowflakes fall, I'm lighting a fire in the fireplace, baking shortbread, and stringing fairy lights in nearly every room.  I can't help myself.  

Christmas 2012

Our bedroom/sleeping loft

A few days ago we made our now annual trek to a local tree farm to cut down the Christmas tree. It was a blustery, frigid afternoon, and the muddy pathways between the trees were coated with a sheer slick of ice, so it was tricky to even get to the trees, let alone saw one down, but we managed, bringing home a smaller one than usual to fit into one corner of the living room.  

Late afternoon at Staples Tree Farm

I've also draped the mantle with fresh greens from the trees in our yard, tucking in pinecones that I've iced with silver glitter as well as the bird nests I've found on the ground over the last couple of autumns.  Our yard is home to many birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and other wild beasties, and we feed them seeds and water year round.  For Mr. Magpie and me, our home wouldn't be complete without the wild creatures outside as well as the wild ones inside (Scout and Dill, our tuxedo cats). 

A closeup of one of the nests on this year's holiday mantle.  I'll have more photos of the whole mantle and other decorations soon!

The kitchen windowsill at suppertime with a string of fabulous Starry Starry Lights

The tree is now up and decorated, but I've still got work to do.  There's the manger to finish, and the sparkling winter village.  The ever-thoughtful Mr. Magpie bought extra strings of fairy lights, so you know I'll be plugging them into every available outlet.  I think it's time to play some Christmas CDs and mull some apple cider.  The holidays equal home for me, and this year more than ever, I'll be grateful to start a new year in our little white cape beneath the great white pine.  

Holiday Musings

Hello, chickadees!  Our part of the world is about to get hit with a winter storm that will keep us all shoveling and snow blowing for the next couple of days.  Mr. Magpie and I had plans with friends for the whole weekend, plans involving festive things like horse and carriage rides, holiday fairs, brunch, and long walks.  Most of those plans have been cancelled, which makes us sad, but we are consoling ourselves with a roaring fire in the fireplace and copious cups of tea on the sofa avec les chats. 

All in all, this Christmas season is turning out to be a wonderful one.  I've made a few twig wreaths, including the one above, using invasive vines we had cleared from the property.  No wires needed to make these simple wreaths.  Just weave the vines around the bottom of an old bucket to get started, and then you can finish the wreaths as natural, free-form lovelies from there.  Even better than the wreaths are the driftwood trees that my sister is making.  I will share a picture of the one she made me soon.

I'll be making my Maine Needham candies soon, too.  You can click this post from last year for my recipe.  If you like Almond Joys, you will love these candies made with chocolate, almonds (in my version), coconut, and potatoes.  Sounds crazy, but they taste divine.   

I know I'm partial, but I can't imagine a better place than Maine at Christmastime.  The morning that we went to our favorite tree farm, a light snow began to fall, turning the whole place into a snow globe.  As we tramped through the brambles in search of a tree that "needed us," as Charlie Brown would say, we could hear kids laughing and running through the trees.  Pure magic.  

And then there was the visit to the Holiday Open House at the Maine State Society for the Protection of Animals, a wonderful farm where they rescue horses.

I can't imagine Christmas without animals and long walks in wild places.  This Christmas we plan on going for a walk through one of our favorite bird-watching spots, Gilsland Farm.  We've been hearing about a lot of owl sightings in the area, so we're hoping for some good luck.  In our own backyard, the feeders have been visited by all the usual suspects, along with red breasted woodpeckers and lots of Carolina Wrens, which are a lovely tawny color against winter's snow and bare branches.  We've cracked open the autumn pumpkins to share with the squirrels and chipmunks, who have been feasting on them all week.

We are off to a holiday open house tonight to see friends and raise a cup of cheer before the snow flies.  It is bitterly cold outside, on its way to below zero in the next few hours, so I am worried about all the folks who don't have coats and mittens or even a roof over their heads tonight.  Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and warm and dry.  I hope you have a full belly, and I hope people you love are nearby--or just a phone call or a text away.  This can be a joyous time of year, but it can be incredibly hard, too.  May we all be able to give help when it is needed . . . and ask for help when we need it ourselves. 

xo Gigi 

Just a Bit Longer

I admit it.  I enjoy the tree even more after Christmas is over, during that little window before New Year's.  We are, after all, waiting for the epiphany, so why not keep the decorations up a while more?

And here in Maine we've had loads of snow . . . with more predicted over the weekend.  Time to light a fire, turn on the tree, and enjoy a bit more sparkle.

Here's a closeup of my pinecone garland.  I showed you the wreath a while back, but the garland was fun to make, too.  I wired cones to a long length of chain I found at the craft store, then I added keys from my ever-growing vintage key collection.  Especially pretty are the brass ones, I think.  I ended up loving this garland so much that I doubt I'll take it down after New Year's.  It will make a lovely winter decoration even after the rest of Christmas is tucked safely away.

We spent the day today painting our condo in preparation for new renters.  Here's hoping the next ones will be better than the last.  We are having to refinish the floors, replace the carpets, and paint all the walls, to name a few things that they ruined, but on the upside, the place will look gorgeous when we are through.  I'm trying hard to focus on the blessings to be found in even the most trying of situations.  They are always there, and perhaps it will be my New Year's resolution to discover them with a bit more grace and patience than I have in the past.

Thinking of you, my friends, and hoping you enjoyed a beautiful Christmas.

Blue (and White) Christmas

I hope all my friends here in the northern hemisphere are safe and warm on this winter solstice.  It is very dark, very windy, and very rainy on the coast of Maine tonight.  The wind is so strong that it's pushing the smoke right back down our chimney, but we are warm and dry inside, and I could not ask for more.  The Christmas tree is twinkling and the candles are flickering on the mantle.  I've made a huge batch of needhams, that very special Maine Christmas candy treat made with potatoes, coconut, and dark chocolate.  I promise to share the recipe later in the weekend, but for tonight I thought I'd finally share a few shots of our bedroom.

We decided to decorate it for Christmas with a lovely branch that had been blown down from one of our trees during a storm.  The branch strung with a few lights was all we needed to bring a little sparkle to this dark time of year.  I had planned to hang crystal icicles from the branches, but once the lights were on, I loved it as it was.

The bed we bought locally at The Furniture Market in South Portland, where the fabulous Mimi helped us decide on this rich navy blue color.  We ordered a model with drawers underneath, and I am so, so glad that we did!  Between those drawers and that big old chest next to the bed (bought cheap from friends who were moving), we have tons of storage.  The bolster on the bed is an old French grain sack that I found at Montsweag Flea Market this past summer.  I made the smaller pillow from a very sweet tea towel.  That wonderful ladder leaning against the chimney in the first shot was a gift from my sister, who bought it a couple of years ago at the Bath Antiques Show (formerly owned and operated by my mum, now run by her friend Paul Fuller).

The walls and ceiling of the bedroom were never really finished off, as this was once the attic of the cottage, so we simply painted over the knots in the pine with sealer and then whitewashed everything.  We wanted it to feel rustic, but also bright and clean.

On another painting note, I wanted to mention the white paint on the chimney.  The chimney was not painted when we moved in.  If you've ever considered painting brick but were unsure about how it would work, have no fear.  As long as you prime it correctly and use the proper masonry paint, you will have no problems at all!  Benjamin Moore has everything you need to to the job beautifully.

Our bedroom is really more of a sleeping loft, with our two studies just off to one side.  One end of the loft has this wonderful, beat-up old dresser that we bought from some friends, plus our now infamous boot collection, and our old suitcases full of CDs.  

The floor is hardwood, but it was in terrible shape when we moved in, so we decided to paint it a very soft grey, which we couldn't love more.  I found the blue and ivory shades for next to nothing at Christmas Tree Shop a few years ago.  We hung them in our last apartment, then brought them along with us to the house.  I'm so glad we did, as they fit this room perfectly!

Above is a detail of the old trunk beside the bed.  That mirror is a lovely vintage one I found in a junk shop in Bloomington, Indiana, about a hundred years ago.  The ironstone pitcher is one from my collection.  I love tucking eucalyptus into my ironstone pitchers this time of year and just letting it dry around the house. 

If you look closely, you'll notice that the trunk has pencil and marker lines on it.  These were scribbled by our friends' daughters before they sold us the trunk.  I don't have the heart to paint over them.  Somehow they add to the trunk's charm for me.   

Ah, and then there are the lockers.  Mr. Magpie and I bought these three years ago at a great antiques shop in Hallowell.  If you like antiques and plan to visit Maine anytime soon, Hallowell is a must.  I've written about it before, because I love that little town, plus you can always grab lunch at Slates.  Yum.

I should mention that the lockers were bright orange when we bought them, but they cost almost nothing, and I just spray painted them white.  Easy peasy.

The doctor's bag I bought at a flea market--probably Montsweag--and the old French house number I found in London at Spitalfield's Market.  Is it obvious by now that I am a flea market kind of magpie?  The shot below should seal the deal.  I love sparkle, and so you can always find bits of vintage sparkle around our bedroom, as well as the rest of the house.  Here it's hanging from an old metal hook in the wall.

Hope you enjoyed this peek into the sleeping loft.  I have a few more Christmasy photos to share later in the weekend, plus that Needham recipe, which probably sounds just awful, but I promise is delightful!  

Until then, sending a sleighful of Christmas cheer to you and yours.  xo Gigi

Wreaths and Trees

Hello, chickadees!  Just wanted to touch base, because I've been away for so long.  I'm planning a holiday post to show you a few pictures of the new house all decked out for the season, but today I thought I'd share a teeny sneak peek of a little bit of the tree plus a pinecone wreath I made from the gazillions of them we have in our backyard.  Some people might not like having to pick up all those cones, but I consider every last one of them a gift from our massive white pine.  And when I say massive, I mean it's branches begin higher up than the the tops of many of our other trees.

I promise not to post a tutorial on how to make the pinecone wreath.  Why not?  Well, because when I set out to make mine, I did a Pinterest search and a Google search (I like to be thorough) for pinecone wreath tutorials, and guess what?  There are almost as many pinecone wreath tutorials online as there are pinecones in my backyard, so you don't need me to add to the pile.  I will say this: while a pinecone wreath is simple to make, it is time-consuming, and it takes many, many cones to create a full wreath.  Oh, and yards and yards and yards of wire.  I used a very thin gauge wire, so I didn't hurt my fingers too much, and I used a grapevine wreath as the base.  Some tutorials I read said to sort the cones by size first, but I just eyeballed them as I went along, using larger cones for the outside ring, smaller cones for the inside ring, and cones somewhere in-between for the middle ring.  This approach seemed to work well with the longish cones of the white pine.  If you had shorter cones, you'd be making a very different kind of wreath with very different results.  Equally pretty, but quite different.  

Okay, I said no tutorial, but the above paragraph was starting to veer into tutorial territory.  Sorry about that.  I just get so excited about Christmas.  It was my father's favorite time of year, and it is still a magical time at my mother's house.  Last weekend, Mr. Magpie and I went and bought a tree for my mother to have outside on her back deck where she can see it when she's in her kitchen as well as when she pulls into her driveway.  This has become an annual tradition for us.  We brace it with twine to hold up during storms, string it with white lights, et c'est tout!  Beautiful simplicity to enjoy through the New Year holiday.  Of course she has her inside tree, too, and her amazing collection of vintage Santas, all of which I love.

Back here at home, our annual tradition is now to cut down our own tree.  If you're local and like wild-looking trees rather than perfectly pruned ones, I'll let you in on our secret: we go to Staples Tree Farm in Windham on Christmas Tree Way, just off Webb Road.  It's $30 for any size tree, no matter how tall, and they have gorgeous specimens to choose from, plus handmade wreaths and kissing balls at prices well below any others I've seen in the Portland area.  True, some get a little Dr. Seussical, as you can see in my Instagram photo, but that's just part of the fun!  

I'll be back soon with holiday musings and other news, but in the meantime, I wish you a Happy Holiday Season, whatever you celebrate, and however you celebrate it.  

xo Gigi

P.S. I'd love to hear from you about your favorite annual holiday traditions, especially the ones that kind of snuck up on you and became traditions without your even realizing it at first.  

Chip Tease: On Paint Colors and the Coast

Note: Buckle up, my friends.  We're in for a long one.  I've been away for ages, I know, but mostly because we've been painting.  And painting.  And painting.  If you're as crazy about paint and colors as I am, or if you want some interesting links to things paint- or Maine-related, then read the text.  If you just want to see colors and pretty pictures, please feel free to skip my ramblings!

I have a longstanding obsession love affair with paint, as does Mr. Magpie, and we have been talking nonstop about colors for the cottage ever since the day we stood in its kitchen with our realtor and emailed in our offer.

Ultimately, I think every color we've chosen has been inspired by one thing: the coast.  More specifically, we've been inspired by two coasts, one we live on and one we've never even seen in person before.

Photo I took on the island three years ago.  On the right are mason jars filled with the sea glass we gathered that fall.

Ever since those four months that we spent on Peaks Island here in southern Maine three years ago, I have dreamed of a room painted the color of my favorite pieces of sea glass.  Benjamin Moore's Palladian Blue is just that color.  As soon as it went up on the walls of our living room, I knew it was right.  It shifts all day long in the changing light, from blue to green to both, combined with a touch of soft gray.  Sometimes it feels like the sky, other times like the shallows of a sandy beach.

Benjamin Moore Palladian Blue

Oh, I should mention that we've done all our walls, including the kitchen, in a matte finish using Benjamin Moore's Regal Select paints.  This paint is very durable and washable.  Yes, we've already had to wash some spots--moving is dirty business!  This paint is also incredibly easy to work with.

If you're a local reader, you might be interested to know that we've bought all our paint at Maine Paint Co. on Forest Avenue in Portland.  Working with a local store has been wonderful.  Folks there knew us by name after just a couple of visits, and they have been helpful with every question we've had, whether practical (Q: "When is that floor paint ever going to cure?"  A: "Fifteen days.  Be patient." And they were right.  It did take exactly fifteen days.) or aesthetic (Q: "Should we dare to paint our dining room a very dark and dramatic color?"  A: "Yes."  Emphatically.  And they were right.  Or more precisely, she was right.  Tanasia at Maine Paint has been a color consultant extraordinaire).  And this dining room color question leads me to the next chip: Newburg Green.

Benjamin Moore Newburg Green

There is a story behind this beautiful color, which, on our dining room walls reads sometimes as navy, sometimes as deep teal, and sometimes as nearly black.  Gasp.  Serious drama.  I am in love. Remember how I mentioned a coast we've never seen in person?  Over the summer, the Portland Museum of Art hosted an exhibition called The Draw of the Normandy Coast, featuring French and American artists of the 19th and 20th centuries who were inspired by the cliffs and ports of Normandy.  What impressed us upon first arriving at the show were the walls of the gallery themselves, which some brilliant people at the museum had painted a very deep marine blue.  Against this backdrop the Monets, Whistlers, and Dufys were stunning.  Again and again we found this blue in the paintings themselves--sometimes darker, sometimes lighter, but variations on deep, briny blue with hints of green.  Wouldn't we love a room in a color like this, we wondered.  Well, yes, but we hadn't found a house yet.  We were putting the cart well ahead of the horse.  In fact, the horse was still nowhere in sight.  

And then we found the house.  And then we thought, it's a little cottage.  It should be all light-filled rooms and whitewash and sea glass.  We forgot all about the Normandy coast.

But there sat our dining room in the darkest corner of the house with two windows, one of which lets in little light at the moment due to an overgrown (not for long) viburnum rubbing against its panes.  A dark room, indeed.  We decided to fight the darkness.  We talked with Tanasia.  She sent us home with lots of wonderful samples in light and bright colors.  None of them worked in the room.  We went back to the store.  We talked some more, and the ever-patient woman asked us questions, offered ideas, and listened to our color woes.       

And then it happened.  There on the table in the paint store was a copy of Maine Magazine.  I absentmindedly flipped through it while we chatted, and I was about to set it aside when it fell open to a page advertising the upcoming Winslow Homer exhibition at the Portland Museum of Art.  It's difficult to describe the buzz surrounding this exhibition.  Pretty much everyone I know can't wait to go; nor can we wait for the tours of his famous studio at Prout's Neck.

Winslow Homer, Eight Bells, 1886

But that's not what I was thinking about at the moment.  All I could see was blue.  That spot of blue in the break in the clouds.  And suddenly the Normandy coast was back.  And the Maine coast.  And I showed it to Todd, and we both knew.

So the color we chose is called Newburg Green, and there is green in there, but only to serve the blue, and like the ocean and sky along a northern coast, that blue is ever-shifting and changing with the day and the whims of the weather.  I can't wait to show you our dark dining room.

Benjamin Moore Mountain Peak White

Now onto trim and ceilings and doors and even the brick fireplace.  I love white for trim and doors, especially in a cottage, but I know how hard it can be to choose.  Too much yellow in it and it can feel dirty; too much blue and it feels cold, etc.  I think we simply must test it at various times of day against the other colors we plan to use in a room.  A white can look hideous at the store under their fluorescent lights but be a stunner in sunlight or under incandescents.  The opposite can be true, as well.  I've fallen in love at the store only to find once I get it home that the crisp white I thought was the color of sun-bleached seashells is actually the yellow of a chain smoker's fingernails.  

I wasn't expecting to like Mountain Peak White, but its sample was the one color that matched the bead board cupboards (be still my heart) in our kitchen, and I knew I wanted to paint the kitchen walls the same color as the cupboards to make the whole room light and bright and airy, so I went with it, and guess what?  In our house it looks clean and fresh without being blinding.  And it may have an alpine name, but it feels wonderfully seaside cottage-y, so it soon spread to the living room and beyond, until before we knew it, we were using it on trim (in semigloss) and ceilings (in pearl--after reading this post over at For the Love of a House, I don't think I will ever paint a ceiling with flat paint again) throughout the house to unify all the various colors.  In fact, we worked hard to find colors that we loved and that also resonated with the white as well as all the other colors in the house.  Against the Palladian Blue, Mountain Peak White feels soothing and creamy.

Dream Beach, Reid State Park, Gigi Thibodeau 2010

Have you ever been to a beach in Maine?  The sand here varies from beach to beach, depending, of course on the rocks found surrounding the beach.  We don't really have white sandy beaches; they tend more towards pale grays and grieges.  One of my favorite beaches is Reid State Park, where I spent countless hours in the waves as a kid.  I took a series of photos there a couple of years ago, and I find myself thinking often of the color of the sand at Reid.

 

Benjamin Moore Pashmina

And so, my study is in Pashmina, also by Benjamin Moore.  It's a warm greige that sometimes feels much grayer, depending on the time of day.  And it always reminds me of the beaches along this part of the Maine coast.

Farrow and Ball French Gray

And for his study, Todd (aka Mr. Magpie) choose Farrow and Ball's French Gray--another very Maine coast color with a touch of green in it.  In his study it is warm and rich like moss, and just perfect for a reading room.  I promise to give you a peek soon!  

I haven't mentioned yet that we've turned our entire upstairs into a sort of work/sleep/hangout space for the two of us.  When you climb the stairs, you enter a large room with skylights, which is paneled entirely in bead board that we've painted with the Mountain Peak White.  That's our bedroom.  Love. Serious love.  

The floors in there are hardwood, but the boards were in rough shape, and we have a limited budget, so we decided to paint them.  And what cottage is complete without at least one painted floor?  With the white walls and the navy blue bead board bed we're soon to have--after 22 years we have bought our first new bed--we decided to go with a beautiful neutral floor color: Thundercloud Gray.

Benjamin Moor Thundercloud Gray

On our floors it is even softer and lighter than this sample.  And while that Mountain Peak White sample looks very cream against the white of my blog, it looks much whiter and crisper beside this gray.  Have I ever told you that as much as I love a sunny day by the water, by far my favorite days along the coast of Maine look like this:

Thus Thundercloud Gray and also a lighter, even softer grey with a touch of violet:

Benjamin Moore Bunny Gray

Bunny Gray is in our front foyer downstairs, which is a very small, but light-filled space with arches leading into the dining and living rooms.  We knew we needed a very neutral color here to allow the eye to move comfortably from one room to the next, and Bunny Gray did the trick. We tried it in an interior hall as well, but without much natural light, it actually read as violet rather than gray.  In a room with lots of sunlight, it reads as a beautiful driftwood color that connects with all the other ocean colors.

Last but not least is the room we are finishing later today--the guest room.  When we moved in, this room was painted a deep burgundy red on the walls with a very orangey-gold ceiling.  Not at all cottage-y.  Not at all coastal.  Not at all us.  This room was the hardest for us to re-imagine.  It is on the first floor overlooking the garden, so we knew we wanted to connect it to all the beautiful greens right outside the windows.  The winner was a green that Benjamin Moore calls Spring Meadow, but it reminds me of the lichen that grows on the rocks near the ocean here in Maine.  

Benjamin Moore Spring Meadow

Hmm . . . I'm not happy with this sample.  It's nowhere near as lovely as the actual color, which is greener and richer than this.  One more reason I can't wait to show you the actual rooms, but I wanted to share some of our inspirations first.  I promise before and after photos (one room per post) soon!