[Caravati's] Is A Wonderland*

Hello from the East Coast!  We're currently in my hometown of Richmond, Virginia.  As always, I'm thrilled to be here.  Though we're Pacific Northwesterners now--and there are plenty of things to like about the left coast-- I will always be a Virginian.  

 

I'm sorry I'm not sorry, but I'm insufferably snobby about where I'm from.  After all, American history is Virginia history.  Since the first colonists settled at Jamestown in 1607, Virginians have been making it happen, and Richmond's illustrious history is reflected by its incredible architectural diversity.  Only here you can stroll along gorgeous Monument Avenue (lovingly nicknamed "Avenue of Losers" for its statues of Confederate military heroes) and then pop over to Jackson Ward to check out the home of Maggie Walker, the first African-American female bank president in the country and by all accounts an exceptional woman.  The River City has everything from antebellum farmhouses to suburban colonials, Federal rowhouses to forties bungalows. You name it, it's here: nineteenth-century tobacco warehouses, skyscrapers, a relocated fifteenth-century Tudor estate, Neoclassical and Italianate train stations, an igloo house and a milk bottle building.  A quick one-hour trip out of town takes you east to colonial Williamsburg and Yorktown, from whence our very own George Washington sent the British packing, or west to Charlottesville and Jefferson's Monticello (and our alma mater, the University of Virginia, where we met).  I mean, there's a reason we Virginians are proud of our state.  

Anyhow, a lot of historic buildings equals a lot of architectural salvage.  And if you like salvage like I like salvage, you should check out Caravati's.  Today we went there in search of a few things for our old house, and we left with our pockets full of doorknobs.

As I've mentioned before, the crazy-doorknob situation in my house is out. of. control.  There are three doors in the house that still sport their original brass knobs:

 

I love those.  There are also a million doors in the house that have huge mismatched shiny orange eighties knobs.  After discovering the exact knobs and rosettes I needed over at houseofantiquehardware.com a few months ago, I filled a virtual shopping cart with them.  I emptied it when I realized they cost $90 per pair.  I've been patiently waiting, cringing every time I grabbed a massive cheap doorknob, for my opportunity to check the stock at Caravati's.  I knew they'd have what I needed.  And they did:

 

Blurry iPhone photo.  Anyway, check out all. those. brass. doorknobs.  We picked up two pairs: one for the second bedroom and one for the bathroom.  The bathroom set is especially cool-- brass on one side (for the hallway, where it'll match all the other brass knobs) and chrome on the other (so it will coordinate with the chrome fixtures in the bathroom).  We were also on the hunt for a brass mailbox, and we struck out.  But while we were there we decided to poke around a little, and these were a few of my favorite things:

Safety first, right?  Next up: a blurry photo of some clawfoot tubs.  Pardon the terrible photography-- we stopped at Legends for lunch on the way to Caravati's.  I had a beer.  Sue me-- day drinking is what the South is all about.

Ooh!  Multicolored forties porcelain toilet-paper holders!  Too bad we don't need these.  I really like the Tiffany-blue ones:

Vintage toilets vintage toilets vintagetoiletsvintagetoiletsvintagetoilets:

And a rack of multicolored toilet-tank lids in the stairwell because why not:

Corbels and corbels all day long.  I love 'em:

One tenth of one percent of the windows you can find in Caravati's:

More windows?  Right this way:

So we'll be heading back to Oregon with some very heavy vintage Virginia doorknobs in our luggage.  I'm always thrilled when a little bit of Virginia makes it out to the West Coast, but I'm never happy when my baggage is overweight.  Cross your fingers for us.  I'm shooting for 49.9lbs.

*Do forgive me for paraphrasing John Mayer.  He is both a racist and a no-talent asshole.  His songs and dress sense are aggressively awful, and I will say ten Our Fathers and one hundred Hail Marys tonight as penance for the title of this post.

Sofa King Nervous*

As we've previously established in this space, I am a cheap, cheap person.  Which is why I changed my mind and went for the $1200 sofa instead of the $1800 one.  Yes, I've always wanted a chaise-- a reversible one, no less-- but in the end, I did the responsible thing.

So here's what I'm getting:

I could be wrong, but I think that's the fabric I'm getting too.  Anyhow, I think it's a nice mix of traditional and modern, and if I want to stick my legs out in front of me (and I do, I do, a thousand times yes) I can just use my dhurrie ottoman.  Maybe a few years from now I'll suddenly not have to care about money anymore and I can buy the reversible-chaise sofa of my dreams, but for now I'll have to settle for the fiscally responsible option.  Especially considering I already feel incredibly guilty for spending money on something we don't strictly need.

Delivery should be mid-August.  I'll keep you posted... 
 

*Don't pronounce this out loud if you're at work and/or have small children and/or if you are my grandmother.

The Good, The Bad, The Bug-ly

This week has been a bit of a roller-coaster here in the mid-Willamette Valley.  Beautiful sunshine and temperatures in the high seventies have brought out both the best and the worst in all of us.  You see, we Oregonians (native and transplanted) are not used to seeing the sun until July-- last year on Memorial Day I was wearing a down coat and carrying an umbrella-- and we are not equipped to handle this unexpected gift.  Kind of like how lottery winners immediately go off the rails and wind up living alone in cheap motels and drowning their sorrows with over-the-counter cough syrup.*

So anyway, three things that happened this week:

THE GOOD:

Yesterday a pal and I took a quick road trip to Eugene, where we visited the Home Goods (I returned the navy rug I'd bought for the dining room-- more on that some other time), ate lunch at the Cornbread Café (vegan, delicious, this-could-only-happen-in-Eugene-Oregon diner), and checked out a place that'd been highly recommended by reviewers all over the internet: Oak Street Vintage.

If you live within driving distance, you absolutely MUST check out this tiny, flawlessly curated spot.  I've been in quite a few antique and vintage haunts in Oregon, and most of them are full of useless tchotchkes (think the 80's Coca-Cola glasses that came free with your Big Mac, etc.)  Oak Street Vintage, on the other hand, has a thoughtful collection of beautiful (and fairly priced) midcentury pieces.  I almost lost my head and whipped out my Visa card over the Edward Wormley console table (scroll down and click the photo.  Yeah.  It is amazing.  In person it is even more stunning) but for reasons that will soon become apparent to you, I resisted.  But I've been looking for just the right piece to go behind the couch, and I'm not saying I won't go back for it.  Actually, I might go back for it.

I did leave with one pretty amazing treasure.  Both my pal K and I were wild about two things: an unbelievable oversized teak ice bucket with brass bull-ring handles ($16) and a set of teak-handled fireplace tools with brass bands ($30).  We flipped a coin, and I won the fireplace tools!  They are SO. GORGEOUS:

This set replaces the cheap ones we bought from Target-- we paid $20ish for those and one of then handles fell off immediately upon use-- and I'm always thrilled when I can replace something generic from a big-box store with something unique and special.

THE BAD:

One or more dead rats somewhere under the house or in the walls + lovely warm temperatures = a smelly and fly-infested week at our place!  Our pest-control company came out to retrieve the rat at our request, but after halfheartedly sniffing around for like thirty seconds the tech announced that he had no idea where the rat was, and he didn't want to go into our super-narrow crawl-space, so he left without doing anything.  We pay $70/mo for their services, and I'm really unhappy with the quality we've gotten.  One of their techs is awesome (he's the one who immediately located and removed FOUR dead rats from the attic) but all the others are crap, and you don't get to pick who shows up.  Every tech that's been here has given us a different story on whether or not the company offers exclusion services and attic/crawlspace restoration.

So after the tech left on Wednesday, I finally broke down and called the pest-control company that everyone in our town fervently recommends.  Rather than poisoning the rats like our current company, they do complete exclusion work and then trap whatever rodents might still be left in the house.  They're coming on Wednesday to give us an estimate, and based on what others have told me, I expect this is going to cost me upwards of $2000.  Which explains why I didn't buy the Edward Wormley console yesterday, right?  But I don't even care about the money-- I'll charge it and pay it off forever if I have to.  I'm at the end of my rope here.  At this point I would give them WHATEVER THE HELL THEY WANT if it means we'll live in a rat-free house.  

THE BUG-LY:

Ants ants ants ants ants ants antsantsantsants.  ANTS!  Ants are everywhere.  Tiny little ants on my living room ceiling, crawling out from the gaps between my floors and my baseboards, hanging out in the bathtub, circling the toilet, chillaxing on the walls in my hallway, cruising up the windows in my guest room.  In fact, they are absolutely EVERYWHERE in the house except the kitchen (can someone please explain this to me?  I mean, we keep the food in the kitchen, not on the living room ceiling). 

I've had fresh Terro out for them morning and night for over a month, and they're still coming.  They show not the faintest sign of slowing down.  And our current pest-control people refused to spray even a drop of professional-grade ant bait unless we paid them $200 up front.  Yes-- that's on top of the $70 we pay them monthly to not do a goddamned thing.

So, quick recap: we're having lovely weather and I scored some awesome fireplace tools, but my house reeks of death and has been overrun by every gross thing you can think of.  On balance, I'd give this week a C.

 
*overly dramatic comparison

I Want, I Need, I Have To Have

I'm aware it's not good to covet, but I'm a covet-er.  The following is a list of five things I'm dying for right now:

1.  New Sofa:

I've shown you this sofa before, I know.  And really, I'm about to pull the trigger.  Thing is, it costs about $2000, and I'm cheap.  I'm a cheap covet-er.  I mean, I don't know why $2K seems like such a big deal-- I've had my current sofa for 11 years and I spend as much time as possible sitting on the couch, so it's not like I won't get my money's worth out of the thing.  I'd pay that for a laptop that would only last two years.  Can you tell I'm trying really hard to talk myself into this?

2.  Jens Quistgaard Lovig Desk:

I've been lusting after one of these babies for ages.  It would look SO pretty behind my new sofa, and it's so big that Ray and I could both work there; it's even big enough to serve as a secondary dining table.  It was designed by Jens Quistgaard (as you may have guessed from its name) in the 70's.  I love its skinny inset legs, narrow drawers, and broad work surface.  Even better, that top hutch flips down to give you 10" more desk.  Unfortunately, they generally sell for somewhere between $2000 and $5000.  I happened across one (slightly damaged) on Craigslist for $650 last week, but (for obvious reasons, ie, it is gorgeous, that's a great price for it, and it's an iconic piece) it had already sold when I emailed the seller  [swears under breath].  Oh well.  I'll just keep coveting.

3.  A New Dining-Room Rug

No photo-- I have no idea what I want in there.  I'm hoping I'll know it when I see it.

4.  Two Rast Dressers That Will Be Remade Into Gorgeous Nightstands Inspired By This One:

Found here.

Yes, that is a Rast.  I'm obsessed with it.  When I close my eyes at night, I dream of Rasts.  Since they're only $35 a pop, this one's just a matter of driving to Portland and picking up a pair.  Even a cheap covet-er can afford that.  I'll paint mine chartreuse (it's a dominant color in the maybe-priceless-maybe-came-from-a-yard-sale Persian in my bedroom).  I'll follow the tutorial provided at the link above or maybe I'll order some molding from O'verlays to make the process a little simpler.  In any case, these'll provide more storage in the bedroom and give us more nightstand surface to work with.  Perhaps for a new pair of awesome lamps?

5.  A Big White Ceramic Dog For The Hearth:

 

Because isn't that awesome?  I've wanted them ever since I was like eight and I read that Anne of Green Gables had two china dogs named Gog and Magog (one facing east, one facing west) on either side of her hearth.  Or maybe I'd take a set of really cool peacock-blue antique Foo dogs:

Full disclosure: there are a million other things I want too (hello, everything for the guest room), but I think it's best not to appear too greedy on one's blog, right?