The End of Living Loft-Style

I know you're heartbroken, devastated, absolutely torn apart about the title of today's post. "What?" You're crying out, no doubt. "How can this be the end?"

Alas, it is the end because I have exhausted all the photos I took of the loft to end all lofts. Plus, remember it is a loft. In the upstairs of a building in downtown Laramie. In other words, it's not a mansion people. And My Parents only need so much space.

So let's get to the last--but certainly not least--of it.

The kitchen.


And oh what a kitchen it is. Huge and open, with professional-grade appliances and, naturally, a few quirky accents.

The appliances might look black in the photos, but they're actually the color of eggplant. And, as you can see, even the cabinet inserts take an artistic bent. I may not have picked those inserts if this were my kitchen, but they look lovely and they do grow on you when you linger in the room for a while.

Besides, how could you ever complain in this big of a cooking space, with a great layout and room for pretty much every kitchen gadget known to humans?

Had I stayed longer, I would have whipped out the ice cream-maker and pasta-maker and this-maker and that-maker and used it all. But, given time constraints, I had to settle for frying bacon and making pancakes on the built-in griddle on the range. And I had to use the oven and the KitchenAid Mixer to whip up some cookies, which we enjoyed as dessert after a feast of Thai takeout in this cute little dining area.


In the kitchen, once you look past the gadgets and beautiful countertops and colorful appliances, you'll notice a number of interesting details.

Like Buddha sitting on top of the china hutch and other sculptures tucked in nooks in the cabinetry.


Like a telephone on the wall painted in crazy swirls of color.

Like a planter shaped like a woman's head on the windowsill and a Homer Simpson cookie jar that grunts next to it (you can sort of see them in the top photo, though they're awfully hard to make out).

On a side note, should you ever visit My Parents, be warned: Simpsons paraphernalia pop up in the most peculiar places. And no, it's not their personal collection. It came with the loft too.

The end.

Living Loft-Style Part V

Despite my temporary absence, the loft tour isn't quite done yet. Today we're moving on from the media room to some more intimate spaces. They include ...

... My Mom's giant dressing room


... the half bath in the hall


... and the master bedroom,


with a bed so tall My Mom needs a stool to get onto it.


And, perhaps most impressively ...

... the master bathroom.


What a luxurious (and playful) spot to bathe, eh?



(Pardon the photo quality--some snapshots were taken with My Mom's cell phone camera!)

Living Loft-Style (Part IV)

Now that I've shown you the entrance and entryway to My Parents' loft and have shared some of the loft's more colorful history with you, it's time to take a peek at more of the art- and light-filled living spaces in the loft.

First stop: the living room, which is actually two distinct spaces open to one another.

This is where My Sister's favorite mermaid table resides.

In the room, a petite fireplace and stained-glass windows mingle with colorful contemporary furniture (designed by the couple who own the space).


Occasionally, peculiar creatures appear. Like the monkey standing, ready to serve, next to one chaise.


And sometimes, even objects with seemingly normal functions, like this lamp, are anything but ordinary.


Down the hall from the living room is another space for relaxing. It's the media room.

But, naturally, even it manages to surprise.

There's the two-tiered seating area, with comfy couches for lounging while watching films. The movie posters on the walls. The fabric draped across the ceiling so the lights are never too bright, just as it should be in a movie theater.


And yes, this is a movie theater. Because besides the stadium seating there's ...

A giant screen on the wall. Massive. Hooked up to a projector and surround sound that makes the whole place shake.


It's a movie lover's dream (or, in My Dad's case, a sports lover's dream).

Living Loft-Style (Part II)

Yesterday, I introduced you to the front door of the loft My Parents are renting for the next year. Today, I'm going to allow you to peek inside.

This is the entrance to the loft, on the first floor of the building. This is where you must take off your shoes and slip on a pair of slippers before making the trek upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, a lovely statue and four very hip fellows greet you.


On the wall opposite, you'll meet the woman who owns the loft, in the form of a painting of her in her youth. (I only met her once for a moment but she is still this lovely.)


One thing I learned on my brief visit to My Parents' temporary home is that there are so many things to see in the condo you can't possibly take it all in at once.

Case in point: This little bull sitting on the floor in the upstairs entryway. I didn't even notice him in the first 24 hours we were there. In fact, every time you turn around there's another piece of art that escapes notice because there's just too much to see.


Like the smiling gold Buddha above the stairs, which I didn't realize was there until we were leaving the loft the last day of our short visit.


As for more examples of the art, you'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Living Loft-Style

My Parents recently sold their cute little house in Laramie. They sold it because in less than a year they're ditching their jobs and the Wyoming weather and moving to Lake Oconee to begin their retirement. (Although I still staunchly believe they are much too young for that sort of thing.)

In the meantime, they're renting a loft in downtown Laramie. But not just any loft. A loft owned by the couple that owns My Parents' favorite wine bar. A loft owned by a couple that also owns multiple art galleries.



So it should come as no surprise that the loft they remodeled and decorated in downtown Laramie is a bit of an art gallery itself.

Actually, that's an understatement.

It's more than a bit of an art gallery.

So this week, I'll be taking you on a tour of the art gallery-slash-loft my parents are calling home for the next year.

But today, we're not going to go any further than the front door. That's what you saw above. And this is the window beside the front door.



Sorry, Madam Opal isn't in today.

(On a side note, people sometimes leave notes for Madam Opal on the window. My parents find this a source of entertainment. We are still trying to convince My Mom to sit in the window on Halloween and read palms. She's not all that interested, but we have another week yet to change her mind.)

Come back for more tomorrow!

A Taste of Laramie

Before I headed to South Dakota for my grandfather's funeral and the madness that ensues when more than 80 of his immediate family get together to celebrate his life (and yes, that was just his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren and some of the kids' and grandkids' respective spouses—I didn't even count grandpa's sisters and their families in that number), I spent a couple of days in Laramie, Wyoming.

It's not the town in which I grew up, but it's where my parents live now. And it's a great place to visit—it's near the mountains, it's close to Denver, it has tons of Western spirit and Wyoming personality, and it happens to be the only town in Wyoming that's home to a university (the University of Wyoming, of course). Plus it even has stoplights, which isn't the case in a whole lot of towns in Wyoming.


The ride to Laramie was a bit rough (with five people crammed in a not-so-big convertible), but the Indian tacos we ate in Hot Springs, South Dakota, and the wildlife we saw along the way more than made up for it. Horses, cattle, deer, antelope, elk. Yep, must be back in Wyoming.


(There were even a few moose wandering around in Laramie while I was there. But I didn't come across one, unfortunately.)

While in Laramie, we worked and relaxed and drank a lot of wine. Particularly at the new wine bar/art gallery in town.


The owner has quite a lot of personality, to say the least. Case in point: The password to get upstairs to the dance floor on Friday night was "Barney Fife." And this sign was painted on the storage room door behind the table where we enjoyed our wine:


Upstairs, there's a fantastic lounge and dance floor. The perfect place to throw a party. My Mom made a point of mentioning that—numerous times. Apparently, she thinks I may need to throw a big party in the near future. Not sure where she gets ideas like that ...


I also caught up with high school friends and learned all about beverages such as Moscow Mules (vodka, ginger beer, and lime, which you drink out of icy cold copper cups) and Poppers (vodka, Clamato, and banana peppers—yum).

Of course, a stop at Bart's Flea Market was required too. I love Bart's. It's one of those places you have to see to appreciate—overloaded with a mixture of treasures, junk, and truly random crap. And two Pyrex serving dishes, which I gleefully purchased for a third of the price they cost at other thrift stores and flea markets. This is why I love Wyoming.


We also went hiking, which was probably the highlight of the Laramie trip. You'll understand why when you see the photos. But I'm saving that story for the next post, so you'll just have to return later.

(Is it mean that I disappear for almost a week and then leave you hanging? Maybe so. But I'm feeling mischievous this morning. And apparently a bit bleary-eyed, because I just spent a good minute trying to figure out how the heck to spell "mischievous.")