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I'm Kathy, a landscape designer, princess, and cowgirl apparently.

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I was a real estate appraiser in my past life and had the privilege of seeing the inside of so many beautiful and well-appointed homes.  Then I’d step outside and think “what the heck happened here?”  Did they not know the house came with a yard?  Did they think the backyard was only for weeds and the dog?  Yikes.  

But what could I do?  Well, I'll tell you what . . . walk away from a perfectly good career and start something from scratch I had never tried before, that's what.  I retired my appraisal license, sold my interest in the business, and opened a retail store filled with patio and garden accessories and treasures to enrich, delight, and enchant. Because I was mostly about the sparkle and the glam. (though if you saw my passport photo you would disagree - cringe)

On occasion I was invited to a customer’s home to help decorate and stage their outdoor space, which often turned into a landscape design consultation.  I’d wonder why they were asking me . . . I don’t design landscapes, I accessorize.  I’d toss out a few ideas, but didn’t take it any further.

Well, in 2017, just 13 short years later, I enrolled in the Landscape Design program at American River College in Sacramento, California. It seems my new calling was dirt and bugs.

My first commission was for my parents.  Naturally.  If I was selling encyclopedias or Girl Scout cookies, that’s where I would have started, so why not a $30,000 landscape from a design student with no experience?  Good-natured and with a sense of humor, they were intrigued by the design, and actually started building it.  In an effort to NOT spend $30,000, my stepmom did all of the work, the hard work.  I think dad hired people to do the easy stuff.  I have a couple of photos of her with a glass of wine next to her tools.  In one photo he left the bottle.  Smart man.

This career choice allows me to bring beauty into peoples lives.  I would love to show you your landscape's potential and how to love what may be the most scary place there is . . . your own yard.  

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