Remember when we stopped at this place in Maryland on our way to our Labor Day beach weekend?
At that stop we spotted some oversized sign letters that caught our eye. They were made even cooler when we learned they were originally intended for a Dollar Tree store and were selling for about $20 each. I was instantly obsessed and almost brought home an E, R, or A—just because. (Sadly there wasn’t a P, J, S, C, or B available for the taking.)
Well, I finally got one. Please welcome the letter L into our home.
Why choose L? Turn it 180 degrees and, suddenly, it looks remarkably like our favorite number. It also makes John very happy: our first kiss and our wedding date both tie to that number, and even Clara’s birthday playfully adds up to it. Little coincidences like that make the L feel surprisingly meaningful.
I may be a bit more thrilled about it than strictly necessary. Sherry, avert your eyes.
Nothing odd here—just a man hugging a giant number seven. Completely platonic, I promise.
Here’s how it happened: I’d been regretting not buying that L at the sale, and Sherry had been scheming to surprise me. We didn’t realize how much it resembled a seven until we were back home reviewing our road trip photos. In a lovely bit of serendipity, a friend named Lesley read a post where Sherry mentioned our regret and offered to help. Lesley lives near the Ole Sale Barn in Denton, Maryland and often travels between there and Richmond, so she volunteered to pick one up and act as a secret courier—perfect timing.
Sherry had intended to make the reveal for my birthday next week, but Lesley happened to swing by a bit earlier. After a quick parking-lot meet-up and a cash-for-giant-letter exchange, the L was officially ours. I was genuinely surprised and more than a little in love—with Sherry for arranging the surprise and with the oversized letter itself. It’s already found a home in our office corner while we figure out the final styling details, like what to hang nearby or which side table and lamp would balance the space.
We debated hanging it on the opposite wall behind the chair, but ultimately preferred seeing it face-first when we enter the room. It feels friendlier that way, like a smile greeting us each time we walk in, rather than the side view most people would see if it were mounted behind the chair.
Mounting it was easier than we expected. The letter still had its internal wiring for lighting, but we’re not planning to use it as a light fixture right now—wiring the wall is more effort (and expense) than we want at the moment. So I carefully removed the two large metal standoffs on the back that would have kept the letter away from the wall and tucked the wires safely inside the hollow form for possible future use. If we ever decide to light it, we can fish the wires back out with a coat hanger and bring it to life again.
Once the protruding hardware was out, the back of the L had a couple of perfect holes for hanging. I installed a few wall anchors and screws where I wanted them, and the letter hung cleanly and securely. It’s sturdy and sits flush enough that it looks like it belongs there, as if it were always meant to be part of the room.
A big thank-you to Lesley for picking it up and for fronting the cost on short notice. The seller had bumped the price up by a few dollars since Labor Day, but in the end it was still worth every penny for the surprise and for how much joy the piece has brought into our space.
P.S. We’ve also been sharing one of the most creative kids’ birthday parties we’ve come across over on another site—such an imaginative celebration.
P.P.S. We’ll be back with a kitchen update later today. No dust yet, but very soon…