...got married in the rain, learned how to knit, lost my father, fell in love with M, chartered a boat, logged some miles, stopped drinking coffee and started drinking tea, spent each day smothered in puppy kisses, did a lot of belly laughing, was the weak link of a kayak, bought a house in a new city, had a breast cancer scare, woke up to a few surprises, took my share of dips in the Atlantic Ocean, saw my first Jaguars versus Colts game, overdosed on Shark Week, turned a Temporary Leave of Absence into a Resignation, stopped drinking tea and started drinking coffee, played stage mother to a talking bulldog, began writing a blog, sucked down a few coconuts, sprouted several gray hairs as Zoe had surgery, evicted a tenant, adopted another puppy, had a fist fight with Peyton Manning, saw things I'd been missing, fed a giraffe, celebrated 25 years of friendship with my bestie, moved 3 times, regretted reading The Kite Runner, watched a tornado, learned a lot about beer (thanks, honey), missed people who I chose not to see, turned the big three-oh...
I wrote about it when we tackled The Office. Now, here's a little Show And Tell in The Guest Bedroom of The Historic House By The Water on how to get rid of a popcorn textured ceiling.
Forget nice restaurants or jewelry. A guy that scrapes your ceiling is where it's at. Believe me.
Tips: -Always wear goggles and a mask when scraping. -If your popcorn isn't scraping off easily, try spraying water on it first. -Tape off the room that you're working in. There will be a mountain of a mess. Really, a mountain.
Before + Progress is an ongoing series keeping you up to date on whatever project is currently occupying our time. There is still lots to be done at this point to make the Progress photos actually qualify for the coveted After stage.
Double click on the photos for a close up view.
It's high time I filled you in on what we've been up to in the guest bedroom at The Historic House By The Water, isn't it? I'll warn you, the progress isn't all that exciting, but at least we're on our way.
This is what it looked like when the sellers lived here:
So far, we've cleaned all of our packing boxes out of the room, removed all of the screws and nails (and lighting fixture and window treatments), and scraped and sanded the ceiling.
Basically, we've prepped it to be painted.
Here are some before (left) and progress (right) photos:
What else can I tell you about this room? It has Northeastern exposure and overlooks the side and back yards. It has wood floors and 2 windows with original wavy glass. We'll be painting the walls Behr Cotton Whisper and the trim Behr Moon Rise.
(Oh and, if you love her blog as much as I do, be sure to vote for her over at Apartment Therapy. She's ranked Numero 8 right now in The Homies 2009 design blog award nominations!)
That is, according to me. Now before you go accusing me of Scrooge-like behavior, let me explain.
I adore Christmas.
I love cheesy holiday movies. I love baking cookies (or trying to, rather). I love eggnog and pumpkin pie. And I love Christmas trees. The pine smell, the twinkly lights, the shiny ornaments. Love.
What I'm not quite as crazy about, is the $100 price tag that comes along with a freshly cut evergreen each year. So I usually console myself by doing my best to purchase a tree from a charity.
This year, with the move and renovations, there's hardly any floor space in The Historic House By The Water that doesn't host a cardboard box, let alone enough room for a Christmas tree. And by the time that we'd unpacked enough that we were able to stow away a fresh little fir alongside our fireplace, my frugal self was not about to dole out a Benjamin for a few branches that would be in our company for less than a couple of weeks.
But that doesn't mean that I wasn't a little bit sulky about it.
Or maybe a lot. I mean it is Christmas. And I love Christmas. And perhaps I complained about not having a Christmas tree a few too many times (even if I wasn't about to go buy one), because all of the sudden Frecklehead decided that we absolutely could not live without one.
So, with less than a week until The Big Day, he dragged me kicking and screaming out last minute Christmas tree shopping.
Double click on the photos for a close up view.
First we stopped at Lowe's.
See the tent, below? It's where they keep their Christmas trees. But it was EMPTY.
Next we tried Wally World. And, guess what? Next to The Garden Center sat a plethora of lovely reject present shaders cast aside like last year's looked over prom dates. And guess what else?
That's right, folks. 10 dolla dolla bills, y'all. TEN. Can you believe it?!
Then, of course, I was all smiles. And here's a shot of that gor-geee-us tree, all gussied up for her debut on Friday.
Isn't she a beaut? And all for less than the price of a movie ticket. Unbelievable. The checkout girl said that they'd literally marked them down moments before we arrived. So obviously, it was meant to be, right?! What do you think?
Now it truly feels like the holidays to us. Let the eggnog flow!
Because of the whole Craigslist saga, I forgot to share some exciting finds The Redhead and I picked up this weekend. Well, exciting to me, anyway.
Drumroll, please...
This is what $8 and smiling sweetly at the yard sale girls scores you in San Marco on a Sunday afternoon:
Not bad, eh?
I usually resist cutesy, useless decor items but -- be honest -- doesn't that happy little bird sort of make you smile? I named him Worker Bee and put him on my desk in the office. There's something about naming a bird a bee that just cracks me up. I know, I need to watch more television.
The coat rack I'm thinking of using as a purse holder in the guest bedroom. 'Cept my purses tend to be of the very-pricey-you're-supposed-to-keep-them-sitting-on-a-shelf-in-a-dustbag variety. But I'd kind of like them to be displayed, since I don't get many miles out of them lately. Then again, I know that hanging them will probably do a number on their handles. On the other hand, it would clear up a LOT of much needed closet space -- I have quite a large collection. So I'm going back and forth over it.
Any thoughts? Any good estate sale finds of your own lately?
A big, fat thank you to my wonderful new friends who took a moment to drop a bit of stylish, creative holiday cheer into our mailbox! Aren't you the greatest?! I love the purty cards (and admit to being more than a tad jealous since we uncharacteristically passed out greetings of the banal Tar-jay variety this year -- hey, give me a break, we're still living out of cardboard over here). Your festive, imaginative notes totally put smiles on our faces.
We don't need this coupon, but it could save someone a couple of hundred bucks. If you're in the market for a new mattress, give me a heads up and I'll pop this in the mail to you.
Not, like, loudly or anything. But BoyToy, having been hatched in The Hoosier State nearly 3 decades ago, is a die hard horse fan. And we are married and everything, so I'm sort of guilty by association. Especially when the person I'm associated with is peddling around in a blazing blue and white jersey that screams Sanders on the back.
Me, left, sporting my best Deer In Headlights Look with The Colts Fan. Classic, no? Us, right, in the stadium.
My first clue that I was wise to wear a chocolate velvet Banana Republic blazer in lieu of the child size twin jersey that Frecklehead had hunted down at the mall earlier in the day, was when we arrived to the stadium and a curly haired teenager began yelling obscenities about our Indianapolis team so vehemently out of his Cayenne's window that he nearly caused himself to vomit. All while we just shrugged and turned up the radio.
Then there was the Jaguars fan who suggested that his tailgating buddy run us over with his Suburban. So there was that.
No matter, we still had a fabulous time. Even if it did take me nearly the entire game to figure out that their mascot was not, in fact, a Care Bear. ("It's a jaguar, Kelly -- see, it sort of looks like a tiger -- get it?" "Oh. Really? Doesn't it look like a bear to you? That does not resemble a cat at all.")
It's nice to be getting settled in a bit. These pictures are definitely a more accurate reflection of what the room looks like on a daily basis now.
What else made the office reno cut?
These small Ikea filing cabinets which fit perfectly underneath our desks and are just the right size for storing our unbelievable amount of paperwork. A lot better than fighting with large, clumsy filing cabinets. We love them so much, that we decided to buy another one.
Also, the little kids got a new Boots + Barkley bed from Target:
Don't you love that pattern? Here's what Slate thinks:
And here he is breaking it in:
Last, but not least, check out a close up of my side of the work space. This is generally where I am when we're chatting:
In the eighties, I was a little kid who put together model buildings out of notebook paper and Scotch tape and spent days on end playing Monopoly with my best friend. And, really, what I've done over the last decade is pretty much the same thing. I began buying, renovating, and renting dozens of properties during Architecture school, where I mostly learned how to stay awake for six days straight while narrowly escaping dismemberment by Exacto knife.
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