After months of hunkering down with our kids, Charlotte and Buddy (2 and 1 years old then), the lure for more space, proximity to grandparents and food of the fried variety became hard to ignore. A late-night “Wouldn’t it be crazy…” Zillow spiral quickly turned into, “Wait, we should do this.” (The difference in real estate prices certainly did not hurt.) At this point, we had lived in 5 states and countless houses. We had taken big swings and followed opportunities. But even for us, this felt like a big decision.

So after lots of deliberation, we did the only logical thing: buy a house over Zoom, drive across the country directly to the closing and then see it in person. It was unhinged. It was also one of the best decisions we have ever made.

Nestled on Ferndale Avenue in University Gardens—known as “The Dales” and, let’s be real, “No, not Southdowns” by neighbors—the postwar four-bedroom, three-bath house had loads of character that, thankfully, translated on and off the phone screen. The previous owners, Rich and Tam Bourgeois, and their three daughters had taken immaculate care of the historic charmer. (Psst: In a we’re-not-making-this-up, small-world moment, we later learned that our friend and neighbor in San Francisco was Rich’s brother. (Hey, Michael Paul!) The Bourgeois family left us a wonderful blank canvas, and after years of living in close quarters, we were ready to roll up our sleeves and put our stamp on the place.

House of Blues

The exterior was first on the punch list. I’m a longtime admirer of architect Gil Schafer, and his project in Mill Valley (look it up!) incorporated deep navy cedar shakes that contrasted beautifully with crisp white trim. Channeling that California magic, we painted swatches across our then-gray exterior, prompting more than one neighbor to ask if we were painting the house black. “Soot” by Benjamin Moore quickly won us over, giving the cottage a memorable presence with a coastal wink. And happily, once the paint dried, the neighbors were on board too.

Study Hour

Since we both work from home, a designated space was a must, but I didn’t want it to feel like Michael Scott’s space from The Office. Enter stage left: the formal dining room. We converted this room into a multifaceted study by adding floor-to-ceiling built-ins for our hundreds of books, tchotchkes, art and treasures from over the years. We painted the whole enchilada a bold jewel tone (“Oval Room Blue” by Farrow and Ball) and anchored the room with an oversized antique rug and comfy wingback chairs so the space could be a gathering spot after hours. I bought a piano at a local estate sale for Charlotte and Buddy (now 8 and 7) to practice on, who, thankfully, take after their uncle, Grammy-nominated songwriter Benjy Davis, and not their mother, which is a gift to everyone in the house.

Dining In

Since we lost the formal dining room, we converted the large sitting room off the living room into our dining room. I painted the room “Middleton Pink” by Farrow Ball, which looks like a beautiful, neutral mauve with the natural light from the three sets of French doors that spill over to the patio. In the kitchen, we painted the cabinets “Pigeon” by Farrow and Ball and—while Amos was out of town—finished the room with an eye-catching Sandberg wallpaper. I framed a vintage Louisiana pull-down school map signed by Governor Edwin Edwards in 1976—I love how the frame’s extra-large scale balances the repeating pine prints on the wall.  Also, our hound dog, Pepper, is a big fan of the loveseat, as well as the ample crumbs in its general vicinity. Who even needs a Roomba?

Suite Life

Our bedroom was a huge deal when we moved from the Bay Area. We have a designated primary bedroom! We can fit TWO nightsides! We have an en suite bathroom! It all felt comically luxurious, and I will never take these simple things for granted (see also: in-unit laundry). We painted the walls with my favorite card-trick color, “Oil Cloth” by Benjamin Moore, a not-neutral neutral that manages to feel simultaneously moody and serene. I then layered it like a Mexican dip, incorporating pops of contrasting patterns, oodles of antique art and collected touches that felt whimsical but still relaxing. We also said no dogs on the furniture when we moved in. That lasted exactly one day. Pepper is now a permanent fixture at the foot of the bed.

Bathing Beauty

The primary bathroom is the only space we seriously renovated. I’m not a huge fan of sterile, all-white bathrooms and wanted something that nodded to nature. I picked a rich warm taupe (“Mouse’s Back” by Farrow & Ball) that anchors the room beautifully against the swampy greens and soft blues of the custom shower curtain, a gorgeous Jasper fabric that I had been eyeing for eons. I divided the curtain into two panels to create a cozy alcove experience to elevate the otherwise standard shower-tub combo. Was it a headache? Yes. Is it my favorite room? Also yes.

Next Chapter

There’s a particular kind of clarity that came from uprooting our lives and starting over somewhere unexpected. We figured out quickly what actually matters: the people around your table—friends, family and friends who become family—and the city you get to call home. Baton Rouge, while sleepy in disposition compared to flashier metro areas (that’s enough, Nashville), is also the country’s best-kept secret. We’ve found the best community here out of the dozens of places we have lived from (literal) sea to shining sea. We’re not sure what our next chapter looks like (the Zillow app is not going to delete itself), but Baton Rouge is home—and we’ll always be ready for the next project, one paint swatch, one estate sale piano, one very stubborn hound dog at a time.