A Day-scape

Looking at todays date, this is yet another long awaited post.  When I look back at the last month or so, I realize how much Josh and I have done and accomplished with our home.  Our petit beach maison, is evolving into a refreshing retreat that we both so look forward to being in each day.  Work has been an uphill climb, for now, more than ever, we both feel like our roots are finally setting into Norfolk.  The friendships we have made are inspiring in their own ways, but all in all, are genuine.  It has certainly renewed my belief that there are sincerely nice people still left in the world.  And because of that, we have both taken on the pay it forward mantra to heart.

Below: Master Bedroom, a modern boudoir in the making; Upstairs Bathroom, nautically nifty with a DIY mirror, model sail boad, and canoe shelf that I white washed myself; Guestroom, the skies the limit in our travel themed room complete with antique working cameras and my magazine collection now in place.

Slowly working our way through the house, our wedding picture collection is now in place—above our bed, the upstairs bathroom is completely decorated, and the second bedroom is a wrap.  Thanks to a little help from our designer extraordinare who fashioned our window treatments.  With a few more projects to knock off the list, we have come to terms with the fact that we will always want to do something to our home.  Though we have done so much, I still find myself falling into a case of buyer's remorse sometimes.  Making your home yours has to be done slowly.  Going through the house room by room will allow you to grip your sanity, and your pocketbook.  I have also come to terms that breaks from time to time are essential and you just have to get out!   

With that said Josh and I were travelling on 17 North to Smithfield, to ham it up!  The thermometer on the dash said 90°F, and the smile on Josh's face screamed, "This is why we moved here, baby!"  Sipping on sweet tea—of course, it's the south!—we went from cityish to total country in a blink of an eye.  It reminds me of some parts of Mississauga.  At only a 40 minute drive, why have we not come to Smithfield before?

Above: The Pagan River

Driving down Main Street, country cliches are were all about, but I couldn't help but think that this is the quiantness that go-go-goers like us often forget about—but are working on. We parked the car, prepared for a leisurely stroll downtown, and Paige was already pulling to sniff the scents of purple wildflowers to only then pee on them.

Above: One of the beautiful homes seen along our walking tour; me standing in front of the home we wish we had.

Lunch would be the first order of business here, but the reason for me being here was to seek out this icecream shop to write about—that would be dessert.  After being shuned by The Station, due to their no pet policy on their patio, we turned right around, walking along the Pegan river to a charming restaurant we had passed before.  Gregorian and Victorian homes, with their tremendous details and touch-me-not façades provided that bite out of history that you cannot miss here in Smithfield.  With our map in hand that pointed iconic homes of influential people, we were on our own walking tour.

Above: Our tasty lunch that had our lips smacking all afternoon long

With our appetites almost englufing our brains—the beaming sun did not help—we sat at a garden table at the Smithfield Inn.  The shade was just enough, and the breeze was perfect.  A round of sweet tea and a water for Paige, she was the attraction by far, with the waitstaff visiting us to pet her.  Just as we do with all restaurants that we go to we ordered what sounded the most interesting: Mozell's yeast and sweet potato rolls with Smithfield ham—of course—to start with, a fried green tomato blt with pimento cheese spread for Josh and for me battered and fried pork chop and grits—these were fried too, I know, heart attack—smothered in creole sauce.  In the words of the annoying, yet nifty Rachel Ray, "Yum-o".

Above: Not worth all the hype, but ice cream's ice cream

Now full to our eyeballs we were on our pursuit of the much bragged about Smithfield Ice Cream Parlor.  As daring and curious as I am with food, I'm not the same way about ice cream.  Always vanilla for me, unless I go Asian and then it's green tea or ube.  To be honest, this raved about icecream was a mere distibutor of Hershey's ice cream.  There was no homemade recipe and hand-rolled waffel cones—speaking of which, nada on the waffel cones they "ran out".  This was certainly not writing about, we could have very well purchased a tub at Farm Fresh, and done this whole dance in our backyard.

Above: Paige in the backseat with the model sailboat Josh got for the restaurant at Wharf Hill Antiques

What was worth writing about—and I did—was Wharf Hill Antiques, a place where Barefoot Contesssa, Ina Garten bounces off the walls.  Walking into the dainty and fresh shop makes you imagine walking through a pair of French doors and saying, "'Hello, I live here."  All things beautiful in life are collected there, and we found the perfect accent for The City Dock Restaurant, a 2 and a half foot model sail boat—bravo!

Above: Sea birds enjoying the day just like us.

With the sun making its way down, we were on the ferry back to Williamsburg.  A different path home, but one we had not yet taken.  This is what you do on a Monday, Josh and I both thought.  What a wonderful life.  A quick trip across, we made our way past the Jamestown Settlement to only find the most off the beaten path antique shop that carried pieces directly imported from China.  Authentic and way out of our price range, the chairs, tables, armoirs and so forth painted this tranquil picture of what our home could look like.  But with my Bali furniture, we're almost there.  A quick walk past the bamboo and koi pond, and the excursion was over.  We were back in familiar territory—along with our GPS of course.

Above: While waiting to board the ferry.

Josh and I both realized that this is what moving to a new place is about—exploration.  We made the pact that when we do leave this place we would be completely satisfied that we did everything there is to be done, and that we would not leave thing, 'oh, we missed that'.