Friday, October 18, 2019

the ninth iteration

I think saying you're happy is a loaded statement.  "I'm happy."  Okay, but like... about everything?  Some of the things?  All of the things?  It's loaded in the sense that when you pull back the lid and start to examine the contents there are just too many variables that can come into play where you'd kind of say "oh yeah" and then frown as you look off to the side.  I look at myself right now in this moment and I say "I'm happy," but there are also a hundred mini-concerns that come with it and peek around the curtains in my mind.

They're velvet and an astonishingly dark turquoise blue, quite heavy in fact, but those are the curtains.  Just so y'all know.

It's mid October and I'm a full week late publishing this, my apologies.  A week ago today we were getting ready for snow and almost freezing temperatures in Minneapolis, today it's 63 degrees and I'm sitting outside on the deck of a new favorite coffee shop (Dogwood Coffee in North East) enjoying an iced latte and the beaming sunlight.  To say I'm in a different place from where I was last year is an understatement.  Am I happier?  That depends through what filter I'm looking at my life with.  Have things gotten better?  That depends too.

Do I feel like I've taken a few giant steps forward in my life and in doing so have shed the past like it was something to be lost while also welcoming the present with open arms?  Absolutely.  That all being said, here we find ourselves:

The Eight Year Anniversary For
Musings of a 
Self-Proclaimed Author

It hit me last week when I woke up and checked my memories on Facebook to discover it was time to post the latest iteration, ie: time to share the direction a blog I hardly ever write in anymore is supposed to take.  It struck me in that moment with nothing but surprise, as usually I'm right on top of it when it comes time to celebrate an anniversary (blog or otherwise).  This time it snuck up on me.  And that's fair, really, because since the last iteration I've really only written two blogs.  Five, if you count the "a year in the manor" series which was technically four separate entries.

You've been here with me before; me, saying I've got nothing to write about.  That's not new information and if you're taking it as something fresh then unfortunately that's on you my dear reader.  Is it my intent to write more? Absolutely.  Am I more that abundantly aware of how cathartic a thing it is that gets me out of my head and helps draw conclusions to the problems I'm facing? Certainly.  But, here we are!

Me waxing poetic and you shaking your head.

But really, after the last iteration I went into my typical winter hibernation mode.  Briefly dated someone, continued to work on the house, and in a lot of ways tried finding inspiration in something.  Or maybe someone?  I don't know.  I had a sort of mid-life crisis when the relationship came to a quick end and figured it was time to chop my hair all off.  Not that I regret that part, but in hindsight, maaaaybe I should have just lobbed off five inches or so and given that a try.

::shrugs::

In May I was sprinting for the finish line on my house before the blogs were written.  Actually, scratch that from the record, I was writing the blogs AS I was racing for the finish line, simultaneously... and losing my mind but what the hell else is new?  Compiling the information for those four blogs meant hunting down pictures I'd sent my sister, parents and friends of house progress that I subsequently did not save on my phone for whatever reason.  It was putting everything in a cohesive order even if it didn't necessarily happen in the tidy order being presented.

The morning of May 31st meant it had been once year since I signed the paperwork for the house, and so I published the blogs.  I had a 'lil meeting downtown, so I got myself dressed up and headed down on a Friday around 11am.  I was sitting in the parking garage of a hotel, early (as usual), when my phone dinged with a Facebook messenger notification.

A funny thing had happened.

There was a little waving hand in the message, sent by a guy named Andrew that I was friends with.  He proceeded to compliment me on the blog, and the house, and added that if I was ever in Northern Wisconsin, he'd love the opportunity to not ghost me (as I had mentioned in the blog, I'd been ghosted last summer).  I got excited for the attention, admittedly, and we struck up a conversation.  Albeit one with some HEAVY hesitation on my part.

You see, this "Andrew," in my opinion, was not a real person.  A weird and vague Facebook history, no Instagram history, and just... well honestly, just too attractive to be real.  You can ask my friend, Todd, whom I had reached out to a few months earlier when Andrew added me on Facebook and I saw that we were mutual friends.  I literally asked him if this guy was real or not, and Todd told me he probably wasn't, and we both collectively sighed.

So when he messaged me I thought "well here's this guy, whatever."

We chatted throughout the day, and I had the weekend off so we chatted all through the next day as well.  I sent him a few selfies, assuming he'd send one back (to prove his realness), but that didn't happen.  By Sunday morning I was annoyed with this, wanting to prove he was a fake person, and resigned to doing yard work.  I was starting to get the feels for this guy.  Our conversation was going so well and was just so fun and interesting that it got me thinking "man, it would truly be great if this turned out to be real."  So I kept up with my yard work to distract myself, I suggested he could send some selfies if he wanted or call, and he told me that the speaker on his phone was a little on the fritz and I sorta rolled my eyes thinking "yeah sure it is."

And then when I was good and sweaty and dirty and red in the face from the heat, my Facetime started ringing.  I looked at the screen and saw that it was Andrew, causing me to literally say out loud "time to find out who this guy is," and then lo and behold... it was him, the guy in the photos.  It was "my" Andrew.

He wasn't my Andrew at that point, of course, but he is now.  And in the Facetime call I felt myself completely losing control of my thoughts because here was this guy that I had tricked myself into believing was some four foot five, 600 pound troll, hiding behind the pictures of someone else.  A lying loser who tricked me with his great conversational skills and insight into movies and music and books and all the things.

Who made me (in hindsight) start falling in love with the words of an individual before anything else.

And not through a dating app.  Not through a friend, but through good 'ol Facebook.

We met in person less than a week later, because I absolutely had to drive out to Wisconsin to meet this guy that would, in some small way, change my world right away and then continue to do so as the months wore on.



I've thought about writing about Andrew before now.  I've thought about sharing him with all of you and running and shouting from the roof tops that I'm in love and that it's a love unlike any I've ever felt before.  But I've been burned in the past from doing so... I've somewhat been slapped in the proverbial face for sharing my excitement with the world.  So I kept it mostly reserved.  Concealed.  Friends and family knew, pictures told a story, but the rest was to be kept under wraps.  Not for fear of anything other than having to put my foot in my mouth.  Could I make it to that elusive three-month mark and still feel like it was going in the right direction?  After all, three months was always the "make or break" time stopper for me.

After meeting Andrew, summer just seemed to disappear before my eyes.  It was spent getting to know this amazing man, bringing him into my life as much as I could and showing him what that meant.  It was driving to WI a couple times a month or taking the time off for him to drive out to Minneapolis.  This travel wasn't always equal, many times he came here more than I could go out there, but we were committed to it.  Scratch that, we are committed to it.  Neither of us was looking for a new relationship, especially one that involved the other person living five hours away.

But that dedication created this fiery drive in each of us... it created it in me.  Suddenly I found myself inspired again.  Maybe not to write a blog or even necessarily continue work on my books, but to fall in love.

To let essentially two years of being single slip away.  To let the spurned anger and jilted sadness of two monumental failures of relationships slip away.  I was inspired to allow myself to realize that just because I felt true love once before... it didn't mean I couldn't feel it again.  I was inspired to realize that your first love, wether it worked out or not, didn't mean it was destined to be your best love.

Because I've found my best love now, and it's with him.  A man that (this week) quite literally saw me at my absolute worst and didn't walk away.  A man who wants to talk to me about everything, all the time.  Who can't get enough of me, and who I can't get enough of.  Who wants to work through our disagreements and figure out the best way to move forward.  A man who is willing to move out here to be with me, so that the "us" we are creating can continue to bloom.  A man who has seen a lot of the same shit I have, has dealt with the same shit I have, and who has shit of his very own that is quite separate from what I can even claim for myself.  We are often too alike, and just as often we are tremendously different.

But that's the good of it, right?  To find someone that subscribes to your own brand of crazy and is still willing to tolerate it?  To deal with it, learn with it, and love you regardless?  I think so, at least.  And that's my Andrew.  My guy.

Now we're into Fall.  Soon we'll be into Winter.  I've run the last Warehouse sale at Pottery Barn that I will EVER run, otherwise it's business as usual at work.  I will sign paperwork in a few days on the refinance of my house at a better rate, and then next weekend we'll be dressing up for Halloween.  The dominos are stacked for November and December, with a tight schedule as the days count down to Christmas and then the New Year.

Still, I feel the shift in me that came with this year.  Or really, the last four and a half months.  And with the thought provoking ideas that come with a new love and a new person, I myself have had my thoughts shift themselves looking forward.  What does that entail?

I recently heard this song called "The Empress" by Ruby Empress, and something about it resonated with me.  It was only when I read the lyrics that I felt like I actually understood why, with one verse in particular:

My body wants to take place in this world.
Capture a space here,
That matters.
Think thoughts,
That matter.
Surround myself,
With only such possessions,
And clothes,
And pictures,
And sounds,
That matter.  

Everything I do now, I want to do it with intention.  I want to do only the things that are going to matter, and that's such a heavy thing for me to say.  It's not to intentionally dismiss everything I've said before or to go back on my word... but there it is.  I don't want to do anything anymore just for the sake of doing it.  Maybe that's something you only realize when you get older?  I don't know.

I need to work on asking for things, specifically of people.  I need to learn that it's okay to need things from people.  I need to learn to accept feedback in a healthy way and not take everything as an attack on my character.  Hardest of all, I need to continue letting go of parts of my past that only detract from my present.  Sometimes the past is better left right there, and that's okay.  I'm still trying to figure out what that means, what all of this means, but I suppose in the end that's what it is to be human, yes?  Always trying to figure it out.

Sometimes I feel like the iterations aren't just new directions the blog is headed in but directions I am headed in myself.  Is that silly to say?  I hope not.  Who knows where the ninth will ultimately lead or where I'll really be in another year.  But I'm excited to find out.  I'll leave you now with The Empress, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.  I will try to write more... it's therapeutic and cathartic and a million other things... though I can't promise I will actually do this, I'll certainly try.  And who knows if my new found inspiration will instill that drive back in me.

Toodles gang (c:

Friday, May 31, 2019

a year in the manor; part IV of IV

Part IV


Outside
The start
Let's begin here.  So before you is Parker Manor, built in November of 1914, sold in February of 1915, and falling into my clutches more than 103 years later.  The wood siding is redwood and original to the house, the white siding is cement board and it was added sometime in the 60's or 70's.  The wood siding was painted brown in the mid 80's when the house was sold from the longtime owner (43 years of ownership, give or take a couple), and the teal was added as an accent at that same time.

And then it neeeever changed.


After speaking with the gal that lives next door, this house has been this color since the 80's.  And when she saw what I was doing to it this spring (after taking a couple weeks to get the nerve to actually speak to me) she said she never thought she would see this place change.  Well, enter me and my uncanny ability to have to paint everything in the world.  But that's what is happening now.  Let's take a peek back at what the outside has gone through in the last year.

Looking out the front porch

Last summer when I moved in, the yard was, to put it mildly, overgrown.  This front view was almost entirely cleared out by my awesome sister Megan.  My dad, Tony and I had all gone to Menards to get the supplies for the built-in and kitchen, and while we were gone Megan got to work.  The people that lived here before me had a whole bunch of raised gardens, and while I don't hate that idea, it wasn't what I wanted.  Least of all in the front yard.

Least least of all in the state it was in.  

Looking toward the south side of the property

The next day Megan and I both tackled this opposite side of the yard, unveiling four more raised beds and putting order to the MESS of raspberries that had overtaken the yard (and the side yard).  My neighbors (that I had only met once or twice) Jake and Allison were at a Twins game while this part was happening and I'll never forget Jake coming home and exclaiming "HOLY SHIT!"

Didn't even know there was a Japanese Maple there

Megan unearthed a Japanese Maple that may or may not have died this winter, the jury is still out.  I'm waiting on those leaves to appear (though from now to the time of year this picture was taken, I've got about a month and a half to wait).  It was such a shock to see the front of the house without a bunch of shit there.

Also didn't know there was a second apple tree

Raspberries went all the way to the wood walkway, and there was grass and milkweed and a million other things in all that.  And spiders.  I screamed a lot during this process.  Megan got one or two shouts in... but it was mostly me.  And then dancing away from where I'd been with hot feet because of something crawling on me.

This is my amazing sister Megan.  She's the best (c:
Overall that weekend we collected something like 35+ bags of yard waste.  When Megan came out with my mom the following month, we cleared out the side yard and added another 25+ bags of yard waste.  In the fall I made another 15+.  So in what... six months?... nearly 80 bags of yard waste.  That's enough for a year.  Until this spring when I collected another 23 worth of leaves.

The house in early August 2018, mostly weedless.
This was the house once everything had been cleared away (and some shrubs had come back to life after cutting them down to nothing).  When I first purchased it, I appreciated the screened in porch but something about it always bothered me.  It just felt very closed in and dark.  Granted it literally was dark in there, from the colors to it just being plain dirty, but I digress.  How do you open up the front of the house and make it a little more modern?  And what color do you paint it?

I knew I had a long road ahead of me with the paint.  The wood siding needed to be scraped down, patched, and then it could get color.  The cement board needed to be primed and painted, to cover 40ish years of dirty and greasy air.  

The white above the porch still makes me groan, it was so icky.  

Overall the house just felt dated, filthy, and dark.  There was really no charm.  Whatever charm there had been was lost at some point in history with the choices made by previous owners.  And I wanted to reclaim that, ala Maxine Walters.

Reclaiming.  My.  Time.

The house, sans screens and scalloping on the porch, early April 2019.  AKA condemned crackhouse.
Step one this spring was ripping the siding off the two posts supporting the roof.  I wanted to re-frame them and beef them up, just square.  No fancyness.  The side effect of losing the pop of color from the screen frames and then exposing the 105 year old wood is that my house suddenly looking condemned and even more terrifying than it already did.  No greenery, no life.  Puke.

Again with no scalloping on the posts.
On the left you can see where the screen frame met the siding, in that line.  I wanted to cut that part of the siding out in order to frame it in, giving the porch a little bit more of a deliberate feel.  If I were to put screens back up eventually, it would be a smooth surface to work with rather than having to cut a piece of wood at a bunch of angles to fit back in.  Notice all the peeling paint.  Everywhere.  On all the things.

Peeling.

I kept my dad out of pictures in the event that his "working" face looked as dumb as mine does.  Also, cheese.
Enter stage-left: papa Parker.  Dad came out at the end of April and I helped him bring my big ideas to life.  Also to note here: I was criticized fairly openly by people saying "put the phone down and help", etc.  Do you think I stood there with a phone in my hand for three fucking days taking pictures of myself?  Do you have any idea how much work we achieved in those three days, in which I took two (count 'em, 1, 2) selfies?  Blow it out your ear ya bunch of shits.

Siding cut out for the new framing.
This was the first side to get the siding removed, and it turned out better than I could have hoped.  Even with just the bare wood added in it was already brightening things up.  This was the last hurdle before priming could begin (and sanding and scraping and all that other boring stuff).

Overall of the porch, with the screen door and screens probably not coming back at this point.
Everything teal would be painted white.  Around the entire house, some eaves are painted green, some brown, some white (I say "white" loosely), but to continue with my theme from inside I wanted everything unified.  Time to begin.

Priming begins.  The porch took almost 4 gallons.
At first I was alllllll about the primer.  Afterall, it was fresh paint.  It was clean, and white, and bright, and new.  But lemme tell ya, the novelty wears off pretty fuckin' fast.  Covering the green was super exciting, even covering that awful old and cracked ivory was exciting.  But then covering your primer with more primer is not exciting.  And then covering that white primer with the nice white "actual" paint was definitely not exciting.  So that all took a couple weeks, but I just moved slowly and methodically through it all.

Two coats on everything you see here.  The ceiling will be six coats.
Initially I was going to keep the ceiling stained because I liked the color, but on closer inspection the stain was just so incredibly old that it was no good anymore.  Either it needed to be sanded down or painted.  And I sure as shit wasn't going to sand down the ceiling.  For a jumpin' jack flash instant I did also think about removing the ceiling and leaving it vaulted in there, but for now I'm keeping that on the back burner.  Definite possibilty in the future though!  I think on the bottom beadboard here I had only done one coat so far.

Starting to brighten up a bit
You could feel the shift once the white was added in.  Even painting the rain gutters/downspouts added a little something extra.  Not such a crackhouse at this point.

Wood scraped and ready for priming.
I attacked the front windows as well during all this (and the upstairs windows too).  It always bugged me that with the dark trim, you could clearly see the aluminum frames of the storm windows.  

Wood putty filling the holes, windows primed and painted.
Happy accident, they essentially disappear into the white paint.  I wish the cement board wasn't covering the top piece of trim on these friends, but here we are.

This is still on the back of the house.  It annoys me.
Initially when I was choosing paint colors, I wanted to paint the house black.  Part of me still wishes I had chosen black, not gonna lie.  But when it came time to actually bringing samples home I was pretty set on Iron Ore (the middle color) which is also an accent color inside the house for the cabinets/doors/stair spokes.  Thinking maybe lighter would be better, I also picked up Peppercorn (top color) and decided almost immediately after painting it on that I didn't want that color.  The final one caught my eye by pure chance, Dark Night.  

You can't really tell here but in person, there is almost a teal undertone to the color.  A little bit more sapphire jewel-toned than this depicts.  And for as much as I liked the Iron Ore, several realtor friends reached out to say the blue was the way to go for trendy houses and that gray was done.  So I hopped off to Sherwin Williams and bought 5 gallons.

Sun-dried Tomato.  Also spray painted allllll hardware black (from white/green/brown/yellow)
In feng shui, red front doors are meant to bring prosperity to the home.  That's something I could definitely use.  I took the old green storm door down and painted it up, finding this really great dark red shade when my sister was visiting this spring.  I did not INTEND to have a red white and blue house, but that is indeed how it ended up.  This door (and the original front door) will most likely get replaced before long anyway, but for now I'm content with the look.  And to have all the hardware matching for the first time.

Unintentionally patriotic (the floor will be grey), but look at that six-coated ceiling tho!
That ceiling just SHINES.  I got these great LED Edison bulbs off amazon with a white cord so that the lighting on the porch didn't look so janky (it did before.  Scroll up.  I tell the truth.).  At night the porch glows like a beacon, which is wonderful because it was dark AF before.

My new street numbers that I ordered.  Also the only tease I really gave of the siding painted.
Once the interior of the porch was painted, the primer was set, and the final coat of white had been applied, it was time to move on to Dark Night.  It took me a couple weeks, some inventive skill of taping a brush to the end of a pole and precariously perching myself on the roof to paint the peak, but I finished the front (and south-facing side) of the house all before my June 1st deadline.



Ready for the reveal?























Are you sure?























I don't know if you're sure.
























Just be really sure.

























Okay, I think you're sure.































Are you tho?























Just kidding.



Parker Manor
My house doesn't feel like the house I moved into any more, and that's okay.  It feels like my house now.  My dear friend Jill came to visit and when she said the house feels like me, I thought it was such a curious thing for someone to say.  But she went on, saying that as she looked around the house and noticed the pockets of interesting moments and the colors and the things and the throws tossed "just right" and the pillows crunched "in that way," it was all me.  

I suppose we are what we live in, and if this is now a reflection of me then I'm happy to embody it, clean lines and all.  

There's still work to do outside, largely the landscaping.  The front deck will get torn out eventually and expanded to reach to the edge of the house.  A pergola of sorts will be built over it, with Wisteria planted at the base of the supports so that it can grow along the white painted wood and eventually hold huge purple blooms.


The backyard is also a work in progress, and as of right now, the back of the house and north side (the right side as you're facing it) both need to be painted still.  The bonfire pit is built but needs more rocks, the pathways need rocks, I need a mountain of mulch, and then plenty of plants to start my 'lil English garden.  The garage might get painted this summer, and again it might not.  It is functional now and clear of all the trash and shit left behind by the previous owners, and I can at least park inside of it.

A year in the making
When I stood outside my house a year ago today, hauling in a few trash bags of clothing and then dropping to the living room floor to cry, I think a big part of me didn't expect to reach this point.  Eight rooms to paint top to bottom, the hallways and entries, the outside... decorating and designing and maintaining... it was so daunting.  Even looking back now I am shocked that I was able to do it.  But I did.  My goal in purchasing this house was to get back to my center.  Re-discover the creative side of me and expand on it.  Find something good to focus on again.  Get my mind off of the past and in doing so, greet a future that was getting brighter every day.

It took a lot of window cleaner.  32 gallons of paint, 47 rollers in various sizes, 115+ yard waste bags, a lot of pizza deliveries, my mom's shoulder, my dad's lost measuring tape and two screwdrivers, countless trips to the hardware store where they now know my name, and of course enough glasses of lemonade to quench the thirst of an army.  But this is it.  This is Parker Manor.

A year ago when I posted the picture of myself sitting against the wall of my living room, the caption underneath read "So I bought a house.  And ::cues music:: I did it mmmmyyyyyyy waaaaaay."  Here I am a year later, having done it all my way, having only compromised a little bit, and living my truth.  I feel light.  Like I can take a step in any direction and have it feel like it's the right one.  Like the words of people from my past can't do anything more than push me further along in my journey, rather than holding me back.  I wanted to build a home with love and warmth, pushed together through determination and will, and held together with a unique stubbornness that I call my own.  I finished writing my book series in this home.  I'll start another in this home.  I'll fall in love again in this home.  But can I tell you the best part?  The part that just... resonates and reverberates through me for the first time in my life?  It's that I finally realize I won't be answering to some force on how to do this all.  

That's the best part.

Changes inside and outside.  For both of us.
Because I'm doing it my way.


Come visit me at Parker Manor; I've always got a spare room.  Toodles gang (c:

a year in the manor; part III of IV

Part III

The Back Entry
She's rough.
The orange from the foyer continued into the small vestibule where the back door is.  The shelves were hung crooked, the power box stuck out like a sore thumb, and that brown beadboard was doing nothin' for my taste.

Taped and ready... in November...
After I got rid of the orange and calmed it way down with Requisite Grey, I was able to turn to taking the shelves down and pitching them in the trash (or burn pile, natch).

One coat
Primer makes the world go 'round.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's my least favorite thing to do in the world but it is 100% necessary if you don't want to paint a million coats of the expensive stuff later.

All tidy.
She real cute.  I still have to add top pieces of trim to the baseboards back here, and eventually a bench as well (though the bench may go in the downstairs hall nook instead, to be determined).

The back door.
I don't have a before picture of the back door unfortunately, one of my many failures as a human being.  The whole thing used to be painted chocolate brown though.  I got that little horseshoe from west elm and I keep it turned down so that it passes luck to whoever comes and goes from the house.

Just a little superstitious.

The Pantry

The OG pantry.  Yikes.
You may recall from my walkthrough video that the pantry had a cranberry colored silk tapestry serving for a door.  On the opposite wall of these HUGE shelves was a rack of mason jars (emptied out by the previous owners) filled with seeds and witchy things.  This shelving unit was from IKEA and took me forever to disassemble enough to take out of the pantry.  There was a lot of swearing involved.

This should come as no surprise to anyone.

Notice the latch in the wood trim where a door had once been.
Clearly this room hadn't been painted in a long long time.  Also it must have had some sort of built in at one point, solely because that grey portion of floor had never been stained.  I wanted a functioning pantry that could also hold the trash and recycling bins, plus the cat feeder and water.  And a microwave.  And the keurig.  Just a few things.

Shelves!
After a visit to my friends at Menards I had all I needed to spruce up the pantry.  Take note here that the original shelving unit came all the way out to the window frame, totally unnecessary.  The shelves wrap around the inside to the right as well.

Semi-finished
I still have to paint the baseboards in here, and only neglected to do so because they are completely missing along the back wall (plus the top trim pieces are missing as well).  But she works!

The Kitchen


This is what started the kitchen renovation, which was undoubtedly the biggest in the house so far (until the bathroom) and made the biggest mess.  You can see the horrific electric blue sponge paint on the walls, the very 2000's color of the IKEA cabinets, and a junky fan on the ceiling.  In the ensuing photos, you should also take note that there was a single can light above the sink, that ceiling fan with three spotlights, AND THAT WAS IT FOR LIGHTING IN THE KITCHEN.

Inspiration
This is what I was planning on.  Cool exposed ceiling, industrial lighting, all white and fresh and clean.  That was the goal here at Parker Manor.

It begins.
I sent this to my sister and said "I did a thing."  


I'd like to point out that I slurred the word "critical," which should have been an indication for me to not tear the ceiling out.

All gone.
So here's the skinny.  On my second night in the house, I decided to take a bath.  The bathroom is directly above the kitchen.  I was leaving for Wisconsin after work the next day for a visit (why I decided on a trip home right after moving into my house, I have no idea) and figured a nice bath would soothe my stress.  Midway through the bath, I could hear a splashing sound that didn't really make sense.  I sat up and looked over the edge of the tub (it's a clawfoot, as you'll see), and saw that the bathroom floor was a lake of water.  Turns out the overflow pipe was not secured firmly to the tub, so the water was escaping rather than going neatly through the pipes.

After tearing the ceiling down.  Thanks humidity!
I jump out of the tub and drain it, throwing towels on the floor in pure panic.  Now the CHARM about old houses is that nothing is sealed, nothing is airtight.  So I went downstairs and discovered the kitchen floor was sopping wet as well, with water quite literally running down the cabinets from the ceiling above and draining through the single can light.  

I had a good cry (I'd had a couple at this point) and sopped it all up with more towels, and then went to bed.  My trip to Wisconsin was filled with thoughts about how I was going to resolve this.  What was the plan?

I like seeing the shadow of the old original cabinets.  So small!
I found that picture of a ceiling and thought "the drywall is all lumpy already, clearly this water damage has happened before.  It needs to come out."  I was pleased to discover that my ceiling looked the way I wanted it to in terms of painting it all white.  There was one little catch though...


Yes, that old house friend of knob and tube wiring.  It was in good condition, nothing was frayed or chewed on by mice (of which an enormous amount of mouse shit had fallen from the ceiling when i tore it down, ps), but I was cautious.  Still went forward with my plan of painting.


Went through two whole gallons of Kilz primer on the ceiling, and ruined four tank tops by dripping on them.  I know everyone has a favorite primer, and Kilz is definitely not mine.  I prefer Zinsser Bullseye Primer, I just feel two coats hides infinitely more than Kilz.  Those are my two cents.

How I spent the 4th of July after being ghosted by some guy.  Don't get me started.
So here you can see that I've primed all of the trim, painted the walls French Grey by Sherwin Williams, and have just about completed painting the ceiling.  I was super excited for my dad to come out in a week so that we could remove the knob and tube wiring and install my lights and just have a GREAT time making my kitchen that perfect combination of industrial/modern.

Obviously so happy.
Except here's the catch.  The knob and tube wiring was ALL live, and while yes it could be removed, it was also likely powering something somewhere in the house.  Sure you can leave it as is, but when the time comes to sell, it would need to be covered because funny enough, you can't have live exposed wiring in your house!

Not to worry, dad and Tony came to the rescue and said "we can re-sheetrock that in no time."  Begrudgingly I gave up on my dream of an open ceiling.  Mostly because I'd spent my entire 4th of July painting it bitterly after being stood up by someone I thought could develop into something, but perhaps that made this choice for the best.  Hide my angry painting away, just like my feelings ::insert laughing emoji, then crying emoji, then like... a pizza emoji::

Spackled
The great news that came with this was that we removed the shitty light above the sink and added six can lights to the ceiling, along with my new fan that I adore because it looks like a plane propellor.  I also was able to get the experience of spackling sheetrock, which was not as hard or as easy as I thought.  Mostly just messy.

Done!
I'm super pleased with how the ceiling turned out and in the end, I'm happy the beams were covered.  It's much cleaner this way and I don't have to worry about seeing spiders tucked up between the joists.

I give you my favorite stain color ever, Kona.
Next I sanded down the butcher block counters.  They were in rough shape, with the previous owners over the years using them as actual cutting blocks because they must have been fuckin' morons.

More painting.
The cabinets and counters were all from IKEA, so I didn't feel bad painting and staining them.  I figure if the time ever comes to replace them, this was going to be a satisfactory place holder.

Staging area
At this point though I just wanted the mess to be gone and to have my dining room back.

So clean!
First coat was done, ready for the second.  Everything was coming together better than I could have hoped for.  Isn't it funny when you only picture things in your mind, and then once you put it all in the order you imagined, it's an incredible representation of what you had assumed it would be?  I never held color swatches up to each other, I just blindly was like "YEP!  That'll work!  BUY IT!"

A small sample of outlets.
Here we have two different types of outlets, there had been others as well that we just pitched right away.  I got very good at changing these out over the course of the year.

Final stages
When I finally painted the windows, everything made so much sense in the kitchen.  And it looked beautiful.

Damnit.
Aside from Paolo jumping his big fat ass up on the window ledge and leaving evidence behind.  Some burglar he'd be.  Time for the reveal!

Classy af
I suppose here you can see what the backdoor had looked like before.  Also notice the electrical behind the oven.  Originally it was mounted above it, which I hated, so my dad moved the power box down to hide behind the range.  He also wired up the wall so that I could add a hood with additional lighting.  Thanks pop!

Still classy af
I took out the chair rails and the corner protectors throughout the house.  That little piece of wall between the cabinet by the oven and the part that juts out is actually the chimney.  I'd started chipping all of the plaster off of it because the brick is this cool grey/white color, but ultimately decided to save that project for another day.  It had been drilled into so many times and was crumbling so bad that it was a testament to my limited skills in patching that I could make it look as smooth as I did.

More class than I know what to DO with!
Overall it was a complete transformation, but that's true for most of the house.

The final kitchen shot.
I wasn't going to put my magnets back up and held off until almost the end of winter.  They're great conversation starters and you see something new every time you look at them.  And that's a wrap on the kitchen!  We're almost ready to scoot upstairs.

The Hallways

I forgot about this horror.
If you were wondering if there was a color worse than the orange, well here you go.  A cross between bubble gum and salmon pink.  I had a BITCH of a time taking these cabinets down, they were only like 9 inches deep inside so I'm not sure what the hell they were meant to do in terms of storage.

Oh, don't worry.  I will.
Side note: when you frequent places like Menards and Home Depot sometimes multiple times a day, you're bound to luck out with some form of eye candy.  And by "luck out" I clearly mean "stalk someone through the store and then out into the parking lot."  Single and ready to mingle!

If this is you in the photo, you now know where to find your dream husband.

Cleanin' up
French Grey is on the mission and shockingly only needed two coats to hide this atrocity.  Thanks Sherwin Williams!

I got good with caulk.
It's amazing how much of a difference caulking makes.

Mostly done.
This is the downstairs nook, which is never this clean.  It's typically full of painting supplies, power tools, the vacuum, cans of paint, brooms, and a myriad of other shit.  It was also filled back up with all that shit after I took this picture and moved it all out of the foyer.  You're welcome.


Finally we can move upstairs.  With no air conditioning.  In July.

Two toned nightmare.
The stairwell was terrifying to paint.  To get the high-up point, I had to lean the ladder against the stairs toward the wall, like a scaffolding, and thin shimmy across it.  I'm not light as a feather, either, so every time that thing groaned I just thought "someone's gonna find me in a month, covered in paint and half eaten by the cats."

Dad up in the attic
Dad came back out at the end of November to help with a few projects, chief among them being to add a can light here at the end of the hallway (and replace the other pendant with a can light), and to switch that bathroom door so that it swung inward.  More on that part later.

Stages
I'm not sure why they had the door swinging into the hall in the first place but whatever, it is what it is.  I wanted it to swing into the bathroom because I felt the nook at the end of the hall would make it feel that much bigger upstairs and a little less claustrophobic.  Not that people congregate in the upstairs hall, but it could happen.  Here from left to right we've got the super colorful doors with primer on them, then painted with the Iron Ore color I used on the kitchen cabinets, and then finally with the trim finished.

If you look closely at the trim on the right door, you'll see it sticks away from the wall by about an inch.  This is from the house getting a small renovation in the 90's, where they removed the old plaster and lathe and used sheetrock instead.  The different in thickness between the two left those gaps throughout the house (and along the baseboards) so it's something I've had to contend with.  Why they didn't just cut the door frames down to fit at the time is beyond me.

Boiling is better than cleaners.
Little trick I learned from Nicole Curtis is that instead of dealing with harsh chemicals and cleaning agents, you can take old hardware that has been painted on, filled with wax, etc, and just toss it all into a crock pot for a night on high.  In the morning...

Clean!
You are left with these beauties.  I still had to take a scrub brush to them to get all the film off, but in the end they turned out beautiful.

The Office

2018 listing
Now, why they painted the baseboards blue, I don't know.  They were white in the 2013 listing but I digress.  Another room of high gloss paint, mostly white, but with some ivory as well.  Depended on the wall.

First things first
 Gotta get the ceiling paint up, and lemme tell you, it was a bitch.  Because the paint in here was mostly white, and such a high gloss, it was nearly impossible for me to tell the difference between the wet new paint and the old paint.  Thank god for second coats because I would've been up a creek.

Cool down mode
It was the middle of summer and I needed a popsicle to cool down.  I may have had several more than this one, but who's counting?  Theres a single coat of paint on the wall, in case you couldn't tell, and I was frustrated because it was not covering as well on the first round as I wanted.

Perfect line
I had to create the barrier line between the wall and the ceiling because it was rounded off.  The paint color for the office is Riverway by Sherwin Williams, and just the right amount of green in the blue gets me to where I wanna go.  The second coat of paint covered well enough but I still had to go along and touch up random white spots.

I did a thing
This little nook (which used to be a closet with a door years ago) had no trim in it, so I stole the trim from the bathroom and spliced it in.  In hindsight, staining the floor dark was a bad idea because this is where the litter boxes are for the cats and you can always see the litter they kick out of the box.  Just means I need to vacuum more, gag.  Anyway, ready for the reveal?

Ter-dah
I need to get some more artwork on the walls, seeing as this is "creative space," but I've been slow to do so.  The closet will also get a door added back onto it (there are several old doors in the garage, one of 'em is bound to fit), and eventually I'll put in a low-profile ceiling fan.  For now though it's my bright little space and I'm happy with it (c:

The Guest Room

From the sale listing.
The guest room was a fairly blank slate.  Like the office, it had been painted in all glossy paint (which, again, shows every bump and imperfection), so my first step was going to be painting the ceiling with my adored flat white and then creating an edge along the curved portion so that I could have colored walls.

So tiny
 All of the windows in the house had these super shit blinds on them, and while I don't hate the idea of blinds, I couldn't stand these ones.  I removed them from every window and donated them all to charity in favor of putting up drapes instead.  In this picture you can see the white ceiling has been painted, and what the contrast is between white and the super old ivory (that was covered in cobwebs and cracks).

Cutting in
I ran a tape line around the curved ceiling and then painted my first "color" in the house, this one here being Starboard by Sherwin Williams.  If the downstairs of the house was about being mature and cool and monotone, the upstairs was about injecting color and vibrancy and a little bit of personalization.  All of the rooms upstairs are in the blue/green category, and each has a name referencing water.  Of course I don't plan things out, why do you ask?

Starboard
This is my second favorite color in the house.  I wanted a really rich emerald green, with all white bedding and pops of natural wood for the guest room. 

End in sight
 This was the last room in the house to get the baseboards and trim painted, and I was over the moon.  And my wrist was killing me.  Loooove that primer...

THE FINAL STRETCH
This was the very last two foot chunk of trim to get primer.  I was seriously ecstatic and had to share it on instagram.  Ready for the reveal?

The room at the top of the stairs.
 I'm not finished quite yet with the guest room.  I got these sconces from Amazon and they're wonderful, but I still need to add the grey-wash shiplap headboard to the wall.  I'd do a normal headboard but as you can see in the next picture...

Tart and tiny.
 ...there's no additional space for a headboard.  So it would need to be added directly to the wall, which is totally fine.  But there she is, white bedding with a small accent of black and a great emerald velvet pillow I found at IKEA.

My favorite moment
And then there's this little moment as well.  The large picture is the original 1915 posting from when the house was put on the market; my sister found this in her digging and I think it is SUCH a gem.  I had to frame it.  The lower left is an advertisement from 1915 for the Whited-Brearley Company that built the house, and at the top is a list of permits pulled on the house for everything from electricity to plumbing.  Then of course just the wi-fi network and password because I'm a kick ass host.

The Master Bedroom
The 2013 listing photo
We're gonna start with what the master bedroom looked like a few years before I bought it.  Here you can see the window was white, and that there was a closet.

No closet (just Paolo)
This was a week after I moved in.  They had removed the entire wall the closet had been on, which I understand because it would've been a super tiny room with it.  Notice the door painted blue and chocolate to match the walls, groan.

Edging
Now since the master bedroom felt like a pit, I needed to brighten it up.  The ceiling was still glossy ivory, so here I have started edging in with the flat white.  You can also see that they unfortunately painted the entire window frame brown and the window itself blue, effectively sealing the window shut (I wouldn't be able to pry it open until about mid-December when I went to work with a couple flathead screwdrivers, a hammer, and Parker determination).

Flat on gloss
I wonder if I missed a spot.

The first window
The wall color is Drizzle by Sherwin Williams.  This ended up being my least favorite color of all the ones I chose, it reminded me way too much of a color I painted a long long time ago in Wisconsin.  Eventually I'll revisit these walls with something different but for now it works.

This is also the first window I tackled painting.  I was terrified to do it because I knew it was gonna be a beast of an undertaking, but hindsight shows me it was a great decision.

Who paints a window blue? For fuck sake.
I worked really hard to get all of the windows in the house to open from the top as well, but in hindsight there was no point because I'm never gonna have them open.  No need.  You can see all my little chisel marks on the top ledge though.  #whoops

Almost there
Primed with just one coat, not quite ready for the finishing enamel.

A snapshot of my life, right here.
Baseboards came next.  For people who think I have an exhilarating life out here in the big city, it's usually just this.  Removing tape, getting paint everywhere, caulking, groaning about my body hurting, and usually stopping what I'm doing to sit on my phone for extended periods of time before deciding I had better get a move on.

Anyway, time for the reveal.

Fin
I do love my bedroom.  I love coming home to this, the cool colors and calm environment.  From the back of the house, I can't hear the noise that potentially rises from the street out front.  The cats are usually in here, and if they aren't, they lay down with me as soon as I am.

The little nook
I'm happy the warm weather is here because I love having this door open and listening to the wind in the giant oak tree behind the house.  There is a balcony out there but I need to add a railing around it.  Maybe this summer, maybe not.  No crazy rush, it's just me (c:

The Bathroom

First of all
We are gonna use this picture from the 2012 listing of the house to prove a very valid point.  White is a safe color.  If you don't know what to do, leave it white.  I don't have a picture from the 2018 listing because I'm sure the BRIGHT as hell green they chose was something the realtor was like "hey... maybe let's not."

2018
I'd already painted the slanted ceiling here, otherwise there was a lot more lime green skittle covering this bitch.

Barf
Same over yonder.  It's a pretty large bathroom, all things considered.  Some day I'd be interested in opening up those electrical panels up on the angled wall to see if the wiring is still live and if I could do another 'lil light there, but I'm in no hurry.

Tone it down
The new bathroom color is Cape Verde by Sherwin Williams, and it is my favorite color in the entire house.  I love how dark and rich it is.

Let's not forget the grey walls too
The plan here was to remove the metal medicine cabinet (that white square on the left) and to put a shelf up, an actual mirrored medicine cabinet, and then add an additional light courtesy of my papa.  The can lights also needed to be replaced because they were not airtight and that meant heat from the house was escaping into the attic in the winter.

So... clean...
I replaced the toilet all by myself and felt pretty proud not to have fucked it up.  The bathroom will end up being the biggest renovation because on top of changing the can lighting and adding another light, plus changing the door to swing inward (just a sec), adding a new toilet and a new sink vanity (eventually), I need to replace the floors.  They are warped and sagging, which means the toilet cannot sit flush on the floor and it wobbles.

Also, not sure if I mentioned it or not (I did), but when water hits this floor, it goes right into the kitchen ceiling.  I can't have that happening.  So eventually this will all be a white-ish grey floor.

Magic
The last god awful switchplate in the house to get swapped out.

Peek-a-boo
Electrical installed and ready for the new sconce.

Handyman Parker
Here's dad chiseling out the opening for the hardware to hang the door with.

Almost there
Attaching the hardware after some more chiseling.  Had to scrape off the bottom of the door as well because it touched the warped floor when it swung inward.

She works
And there ya have a primed door, still showing that awful green through it.  Ready for the reveal?

Nice and fresh
Like I said the sink vanity will be replaced, with something marginally wider but definitely taller (this thing is made for children, swear to god).

That big nook
I quite enjoy how the bathroom turned out.  Currently there is no trim along the floors but that's for two reasons.  First is that I used those baseboards to finish the office nook, and second is because I figured the floor would be coming out anyway so who cares?  That cabinet came from IKEA, I love it to pieces.

And that wraps the inside of the house!  Who's ready to see the big reveal outside?