TMB: Love among the Actual Ruins

POST #63: FOR BETTER OR . . . WORSE?

Hi, I’m Holly Barron, a contestant on To the Manor Build, a super-popular rehab show.

This is my unfiltered, no-holds-barred, honest, behind-the-scenes peek at the craziness of turning a run-down Vermont log cabin into a net-zero awesome house with a hot, sexy guy I am about to just married.

My motto: Whatever I can do, YOU totally can do better!

Follow me to see how!

It’s a wrap, folks!

Robert and I finally did the deed yesterday. We promised to love and honor till death do us part on a blazing golden autumn afternoon in our very own Vermont backyard. (And by backyard, I mean eighty hilltop acres—squeee!)

Duran at Snowdrops Florists assembled the most amazingly awesome wedding arch of fragrant eucalyptus and dark green olive leaves interspersed with pink, orange, and purple dahlias in full bloom along with delicate roses. Everything smelled so dizzyingly fresh!

Robert was drop-dead, be-still-my-heart GORGEOUS in a kilt of Clan Barron tartan custom made for him by Agnes at Loch Kindlich Kilt Shop in Edinburgh, Scotland. Jamie Frasier had nothing on my ma-an as Dave MacLaren, bagpiper extraordinaire, from Rutland, played a soulful rendition of “The Skye Boat Song.” I’m getting teary thinking about it. Honestly, people, I am now crying buckets.

Okay, okay. Phew. Pulling myself together. Right.

The most amaaazing part is knowing all you lovely viewers were with us from the beginning. Some of the more savvy among you saw our romance blossoming before we did. How awesome is that?

Remember, Robert and I started off as strictly business partners who met in person for the first time shortly after Christmas (Yup. Ten months ago, folks!) He had the house; I had the vision. With my communication skills and his, um, cash, we embarked on this transformative TMB journey with one goal in mind: to build a beautiful, on-trend, energy-efficient, net-zero house, in an affordable way so you could, too.

We didn’t realize our feelings were growing until we planned out the guest room that could double as a nursery. That sparked conversations about someday having kids (we each agree on no more than two for the planet) and how we wanted to raise them so they could be free to roam and explore nature’s bounty. We might have killed a few bottles of wine during these late-night talks and, naturally, one thing led to another.

One night in particular stands out. It was during the full moon in June, the pink “strawberry moon.” Robert and I were out in the field watching fireflies dance in courtship under the stars, sipping prosecco. He got down on one knee and said, “I have never loved anyone more than you and I never will, Holly. If you don’t marry me, I’ll die.”

The next I knew, there was a sparkly ring on my finger and just like that, all my dreams came true. If you told me back when I was sixteen and living out of my car in Homosassa, Florida, that someday I’d meet and fall in love with a stunningly handsome, dynamic man while rehabbing a hilltop New England estate that would become our home, I would have told you to lay off the crack.

But that’s what happened and I’m floating on air.

Okay. Getting back down to earth, A LOT of you have been asking about my wedding gown. “Simply elegant,” one commenter said. “Brilliant in simplicity,” though there was one snarkster who noted it wasn’t exactly white. Look, you cannot put a Florida girl with a Vermont tan (i.e., skin paler than alabaster) in a white dress. YOU JUST CAN’T.

That’s why Bailey Cho, Wedding Dress Design Queen!, of Mariée et le Marié in Montreal, chose a sexy, body-hugging gown of beige silk (pro tip: Shapewear!) with off-the shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline and THERE WAS NOTHING SIMPLE ABOUT IT. People, that dress had more hidden support than Bernie Sanders at a Dem Party fundraiser. (Vermont joke: as you know I am TOTALLY 100% apolitical!)

A sweet, dear local town clerk performed the ceremony, which went by so fast. I was afraid Robert would forget his lines because of that dress. (Every bride wants the man/woman she’s marrying to admire her with that kind of awestruck gaze, amiright?)

Afterward there were lots of photos and then Bobby Ray and the Jazzhounds started up the band while Sprouts Abundant (don’t you just LOVE that name? Believe me, they are EXCELLENT vegetarian caterers who serve way more than sprouts) produced tasty hors d’oeuvres (eggplant crostini and Vermont cheeses with figs, dates, and olives, among others) and entrées of roasted Vermont pumpkin ravioli, sautéed broccoli in chili crunch, and portobello mushrooms with chèvre and wild herbs. To top it off there was the wedding cake to end all wedding cakes: Grand Marnier–infused triple chocolate with a tangerine white-chocolate ganache frosting that was TO DIE FOR! (Thank you Alice’s Bakery on Church Street, Burlington).

As the bride and groom, Robert and I couldn’t tuck our napkins under our chins, pull up our chairs, and stuff our faces on this feast. We had to MIX and MINGLE and thank all the wonderful friends, family, and staff who’d traveled from near and far to celebrate our joy. We wanted to sincerely let our guests know how much we appreciated them being there.

That’s when I heard *it.*

I can’t go into details about what *it* was except to say it was an offhand remark made behind my back, after we’d moved to the next table, about a certain woman at the reception whom the guest speculated (wrongly) had designs on my husband. This guest went on to support her upsetting thesis by noting how the “femme fatale” had gone so far as to transform herself into a mini me, right down to the roots of her newly blond hair. Apparently, this love-starved doppelgänger of mine followed Robert everywhere with her eyes.

Readers, I knew exactly to whom this sadly misinformed guest was referring and lemme tell you, the guest couldn’t have been further off the mark. I count this woman among one of my closest friends, a loyal and unquestioning ally who’s been a tremendous support through the rocky road of property rehab. It was all I could do not to admit I’d overheard the snarky comments and set the record straight.

Since then, I’ve learned there’s been similar trash talk online. (I’m not going to name the subject of this scrutiny, because I don’t want to cause her further embarrassment.) All I’m asking is that if you’ve read comments opining the above on social media, that you discount them immediately. Like I said, this woman is a friend of mine; she would never, ever, ever hit on my husband.

Phew. Thank you so much for having my back on this.

Anyway, gentle reminder, we’re one week out to the Big Reveal! Please, please, please don’t forget to tune in a week from Monday to vote for Team Holly & Robert on To the Manor Build. We’ll be live-streaming on YouTube at 8 p.m.

Robert and I want to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of our hearts, not only for voting for #TeamH&R, but for literally bringing us together. Smooches!

Signed,

—Mrs. Robert Alan Barron III (a.k.a. Holly!)

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