Perkins Place

Not long ago, a friend asked whether I ever get bored or lonely when I fly south solo for the winter. I actually laughed, because I don’t have the time, the bandwidth, or frankly the inclination to be either bored or lonely. Let’s start with the obvious: I stay busy. I’m still writing my historical novels, and I still work most weeks as a contract consultant. And lonely? Hardly. I sometimes spend an evening with a charming neighbor I’ve come to know over the past few years. I

Every year, right around this time, I enter my personal season of great sorrow: The annual closing of Perkins Place. Some people get emotional over holiday movies or the last slice of cake. Me? I cry over a 77‑year‑old shack with a personality of its own. I love this house like it’s a pet - one of those scruffy rescue dogs with a mysterious past and a tendency to wobble in strong winds. When I pull out of the driveway, I swear I can hear it whimper. Tears well up in my eyes,

If you’ve been around here long enough, you know Perkins Place has a long and storied history - mostly involving humidity, questionable furniture, and my ongoing attempts to keep both from defeating me. When my grandparents bought the place back in 1972, it came partially furnished, which is real‑estate speak for Here, take these old things we didn’t feel like moving. Among those treasures were two matching white dressers: Sturdy, charming, and already smelling faintly like

Most people begin decorating a room with the sensible stuff—paint, flooring, maybe a rug if they’re feeling wild. Not me. In true “I do life backwards” fashion, I prefer to start with the fun parts: Furniture, accessories, and anything that can be purchased impulsively while holding a coupon. Only after all that do I circle back to the walls and floors, mostly because I never know what to do with them until everything else is bossing me around. The new sunroom‑turned‑office

If you read last week’s post, you already know I’ve been elbow‑deep in my latest domestic saga: Transforming the long‑ignored sunroom into a respectable office. A place where ideas can flourish, coffee can be consumed in heroic quantities, and—most importantly—where I can sit without my spine filing a formal complaint. The first victory was turning an old coffee table into a desk. Cute, functional, and just the right height for someone who refuses to buy furniture when she ca

Back in the early 70s—when wood paneling was king and indoor/outdoor carpet was considered a lifestyle —my grandfather built a sunroom over part of the patio at Perkin’s Place. As he hammered away, he kept calling it Dee Dee’s room. Repeatedly. As if the walls needed to know who they belonged to. This was puzzling for a couple of reasons, I was one of five grandchildren, and I was not the favorite (as far as I know). I was still in middle school and years away from evening t

There are certain things you expect when you move to Florida: Palm trees, sunshine, humidity that can curl your eyelashes, and the occasional alligator who wanders by like he’s checking on the neighborhood. What you don’t expect is to find yourself, at nearly 11:00 p.m., hunched over your laptop, frantically scrolling through Amazon for outdoor pipe insulation like you’re prepping for a blizzard in Minneapolis. I have stayed in Florida for years without ever giving a single

Living in an old house is a bit like living in a charming historical reenactment—minus the costumes, plus the inconvenient lighting. My kitchen, for example, has a perfectly fine overhead light that does a fantastic job of illuminating everything except the one place I actually need to see: The kitchen sink. Because why would I want to see what I’m scrubbing off a pan at 10 p.m.? Of course, installing a proper wired light over the sink would solve everything. But if you’ve b

After 54 years of driving from Indiana to Florida and back—yes, you read that right, 54 years—you’d think I’d be sick of the road. You might also think I’d be able to navigate I‑75 with my eyes closed (I do not recommend this). But no. I still love it. Every mile of it. I’ve been making this trip since 1972, back when I was a kid in the backseat, blissfully unaware that one day I would be the adult behind the wheel, chauffeuring my own children, and later grandchildren, down

As I have mentioned numerous times, Perkins Place is tiny. Outfitting it has reminded me of when my ex and I were prepping our sailboat for extended stays on the water. Every item brought aboard had to be as compact as possible if we were to enjoy the most basic of comforts. Shortly after I settled into my little Florida bedroom, I quickly realized I missed having a TV. I like watching the morning news as I get dressed, and I absolutely require a dose of mindless drivel to lu

In a small house like Perkins Place, you learn quickly that small touches can make a big impact—mostly because there’s nowhere to hide your mistakes. If you hang a crooked picture, the whole house knows. If you buy an ugly rug, it becomes a personality trait. But every now and then, a tiny upgrade lands squarely in the category of “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” Enter: my solar bistro lights. Yes, friends, I have joined the ranks of people who casually refer to their patio as

Every house has its quirks. Some people deal with squeaky floorboards, others with leaky faucets. Me? My nemesis comes in the form of tiny reptiles with sticky toes and a knack for leaving behind… evidence. Yes, I’m talking about lizards. At Perkins Place, they sneak in like miniature ninjas through the tiniest cracks—around doors, air conditioners, and especially through the garage. Once inside, they don’t pay rent, they don’t help with chores, and they certainly don’t respe

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted any updates. Life has been, well let’s just say a bit unsettled. But things are better now so I’m off to the races again. The big remodeling projects on Perkins Place are on hold until the budget recovers from the previous upgrades. For the time being, it’s all about little (as in affordable) improvements. One of the simplest but best upgrades I’ve made is this fantastic cordless stick vacuum. Now I know stick vacuums are nothing new, b

My little Florida place is just full of issues, but I love solving little problems like that. I had two little things that were bothering...

It's been a while since I've posted because I spent most of 2023 taking care of my son, Nik, who sadly lost his battle with brain cancer...

This is a long post because there’s so much to share. I’ve just completed the biggest, most expensive, most rewarding project to date at...

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted an update because I haven’t been doing all that much on the house. Things are definitely picking...

Due to the way the road curves in front of our house, the very first thing you see when you arrive at Perkins Place is the mailbox. Ours...

If you watch HGTV, you have likely seen that many people who take on renovating and redecorating projects make a lot of mistakes. I am...

It all started with a spoon and a spatula. I was in Disney World many moons ago and saw the Mickey Mouse© utensil set in a shop in the...