Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The Chain Reaction Spreading Far and Wide, and Other Domestic Perils

We are in the middle of a simple little update to our existing porch. Nothing too elaborate, you know. Just add a roof, replace rotted beams, add some metal brackets to hold things up, slap some screen fabric on there, maybe paint a bit. Easy peasy. Lemon squeezy.

Ba! Hahahahaha... good one!

Actually, I do not have a single complaint, not one... okay one: We had to order doors three times! But that's been it... the only hiccup in this whole venture. {So far.} Easy peasy. Lemon squeezy. And I have always wondered if it's possible to go through a remodel or construction in an orderly, stress-free, timely manner, because it seems to me, from plenty of first-hand experience, that Home Improvement is synonymous with Headaches, Trials, Setbacks, Delays, Collateral Damages, and Moments of Profound Regret.

Now I am learning something new: When things run smoothly, when the results look great, and no one has been to the ER, or moved into a motel, there is a temptation, a huge compulsion, to keep going, to add more to the To-Do List of Wishful Thinking. And that, my friends is where we are today... on the cutting edge of doing a little bit more. Nothing too elaborate, you know, just repair the ceiling from the rain leak damage in the living room, then replace the broken tiles on the fire place hearth, rip out that grey-brownish carpeting that was once... light beige? It's a chain reaction! Somehow, nearly every room in the house is affected, as we move things around, making way for painting the porch, or reassigning furniture for a new purpose, culling the art supplies from the cabinets and drawers throughout the house, that will all reside on the porch. While we are at it, moving and shifting, we are also purging. Cleaning. Yeah, that's why it looks like an ol'curiosity shop, and salvage yard. It looks like this because we are cleaning, and working, and facing mounds of domestic perils.

Last night I spied the window dressings that hang above two windows and the doors in our kitchen. They're plaid, a shiny fabric, well made, and (once) well suited to the room... but. Not my taste. Not offensive, mind you, but as we really settle-in, and make the Bird House our own... those curtains are suddenly glaring at me, clashing, and begging to be updated. Alex agreed, adding, "They make the windows look like Colonial women in bonnets." And so, the chain reaction spreads, and our Colonial look has got to go!

Quick question: If your living room had not been painted in 11 years, and it was empty of furniture and flooring, wouldn't you feel compelled to paint it? Maybe a new color, or at least a fresh coat of the same?
Yeah. I thought so, too.

I Spy, anyone?

A ratty rat named Hazel Nutt.

A Tyrannosaurs Rex.

A mystery metal piece Alex found on the beach, that is being investigated by the Maritime Museum.

Yellow roses.

The dining table.

1 comment:

Jennifer said...

One thing truly always does lead to another, especially in home-improvement land! The best part is seeing and hearing how you are settling in and making it so perfectly your place. Hurray for the adventure, for ER-free progress, and all the joys ahead at *home.*