It’s Friday, and it’s time to get a little mathy. If you’ve been around here a while you might already know I’m a dedicated fan of facts and figures—data makes me happy—so when Sherry and I started noticing some interesting statistics about our new house, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to turn those observations into visuals and call it an infographic party. We debated, and this post is the result.
Whether Sherry was genuinely enthusiastic or just worried that disagreeing would turn me into a full-blown statistic-obsessed werewolf, this collection of observations was born. We’ve found that these kinds of time-capsule posts become more treasured over time. They capture little details we might otherwise forget and offer a snapshot of life in a particular moment. We’ve enjoyed doing similar posts in the past that highlight quirky discoveries and odd remnants from previous owners, so sharing one about this new house felt natural.
Instead of linking to older posts, here’s a quick description of the types of time-capsule finds we’ve collected before: small hidden notes tucked into walls, random artifacts left behind that hint at the home’s past life, handwritten dairies or lists that freeze a day in time, and amusing or mysterious objects someone once thought important enough to preserve. Those discoveries always make us pause and imagine who lived here before, what they loved, and what life was like in a different era.
Back to the present: we started jotting down counts, measurements, and little oddities—everything from the number of built-in shelves to the types and quantities of closets, the square footage of tiny unusable corners, and the number of oddly placed outlets that never quite make sense. We noticed patterns and repetitive design choices that hint at the house’s history and the priorities of previous builders or owners. Those small details add up into a story about how the space was used, and how it might be used by us in the future.
We also catalogued behavior around the house: where we naturally gather, the most traveled paths, the light patterns at different times of day, and the places that always end up messy versus the ones that stay tidy. These domestic statistics are part observation and part affection. They help us plan practical things—like where to hang art, how to arrange furniture, and which corners to prioritize when painting—while also giving us a sentimental record to look back on.
Speaking of painting, we’re actively working on a few spots as the weekend starts. Painting brings out a different kind of analysis: how many coats will a wall need? Which colors change the feel of a room the most? How long does it take to transform a tired corner into something that feels intentional and fresh? As with the other counts, we write down our estimates and then compare them to the reality. It’s fun, satisfying, and oddly educational.
One of the funniest observations that keeps coming up involves Sherry’s collection habits—particularly her tendency to display unusual things under glass domes or cloches. We joked about whether some of those items can breathe, and the whole thing became a lighthearted debate about aesthetics versus pragmatism. Those little domestic quirks—what one person collects, preserves, or displays—say a lot about the life being built inside these walls.
So here’s the take-away: cataloging small facts about a home is more than an exercise in numbers. It’s a way to notice, remember, and celebrate the ordinary details that together create a comfortable, lived-in feeling. We hope this tiny infographic-style roundup gives you a sense of the rhythms and peculiarities of our new place, and maybe inspires you to record a few of your own household stats. What detail struck you most? Are you surprised by any of our observations, or do you have similar patterns in your house that you never noticed until you wrote them down?
Happy weekend—may your projects be productive and your paint dries evenly. If you feel like it, tell us one small, amusing statistic about your own home. It’s fun to compare notes.