"My mother used to say that 'your home is where your history begins,' so with that in mind, I intently began my search for the architect who could create four walls worthy of this honor. After seemingly endless interviews, tedious portfolio gazing, and eye-glazing presentations, I finally found an architect who truly listened when I spoke. Soft-spoken and rather shy, his name is Jim and our journey starts here....
The clock read 8:00 a.m. and there Jim sat with pencils, rulers, and tracing paper at the ready in a neat little pattern on the table in front of him. Jim was slightly overwhelmed as I blew into the room and unloaded an armful of tattered, dog-eared magazines stuffed to the brim with ragged photos and stacks of sticky post-it notes covered with the scribbles and the undisciplined drawings of a woman who had been dreaming of this moment for over ten years. Several deep breaths later, Jim smiled, unearthed his pencils and rulers, and we began the task of sorting through my hopes and dreams that were piled on the table in front of him. Jim listened earnestly as I described in detail the home of my dreams. Quietly he recognized that he had no easy task ahead of him. I had entrusted him with the responsibility of creating a home that would be worthy of holding the history and memories of my family.
A year later, as I walk through our finished home, I smile and feel content because I am surrounded by all of the details, designs, and dreams that Jim so carefully made into a reality. An intent listener, Jim knew that this would be the place that my husband and I would grow old together as we sit on the farmer's porch watching the Sandhill cranes call to each other as the sun sets every evening. He knew that this would be the place that I spend hours cooking and baking to my heart's content as the fireplace crackles and casts a warm glow over the handmade brick walls of my colonial kitchen. He knew that this would be the place that my daughter would walk down the beautifully paneled stairway amid a sea of floral garland in her wedding dress. He knew that this would be the place where my husband would escape to his cherry-paneled library for some peace and quiet (and most likely a football game) while my daughter and a handful of her sorority sisters snack on cookie dough and catch up on ‘girl talk.’ He knew that this would be the place where on Christmas Day, the great room would be host to the family Christmas tree and be littered with toys, laughter, sugar cookies, and sticky fingerprints from grandchildren with perhaps a pet turtle, goldfish, or a puppy thrown into the mix for good measure.
If my mother was right and 'your home is where your history begins,' then our new home is a testament to the living history of a family whose lives are blessed and well lived - and all because of an architect named Jim who truly listened."
- Tarianne B.