Six Week Face Lift

We ran the race. We fought the good fight. We came, we saw, we kicked some butt! The goal: Host Thanksgiving... with painted walls, and an actual floor to walk on without stepping on nails!

The first six weeks in our new home we pushed ourselves hard. Working past 10:00pm almost every night, with only a few exceptions. Thanksgiving came and went with turkey, stuffing, pie, and drink, all presented in their beautiful glory. The drink, "Apple Pie" proved to be a big hit for all, and if our friend will divulge the mystery of the marvelous homemade libation, I will post it in a future blog. 21 and older only, please.

A brief summary of the first six weeks:

In the beginning, when the popcorn ceilings came down, we said "it is good" (and sloppy wet).

When the wallpaper came down in layers and layers, Cheryl said "What the heck!? Wallpaper is EVIL!"

When the ceilings and walls were slap textured, displaying their glorious chaotic patterns, I finally lowered my stick and brush saying, "Wow, that was a lot of work! I could really use a massage..."

My wife's hidden talents emerged with razor precision painting along extensive lengths of delicate edging. No tape to guide her surgical precision hands. Bold colors quickly transformed the place from simply a house to a warm and inviting home.

At the entry, she created an accent wall of the highest gloss paint I've seen yet! The gorgeous black appears wet even weeks later. If a wall could be deemed 'sexy', this would be it. I have this odd desire to bump some unsuspecting soul against it (exclaiming the fresh wetness), just for the fun of it. Some may disapprove of my mischief, but that's a risk I'm willing to take...

The floor installation consumed my non-working hours for nearly a week straight. The cutting, the nailing, the kneeling, and more, brought on aches and pains and bruises and cuts, but in the end all my fingers were intact, and my joints and muscles recovered rather quickly. Maybe I'm not terribly out of shape after all!

The next event at the house is our annual tree trimming party, where most participants (who don't know each other), gather to eat, drink, and decorate our tree. Chaos is cool...

The race to the tree trimming party begins another stretch of late night projects, along with preparing the house for the bitter cold weather on the horizon.

Unfortunately, our schedule has already been delayed due to brake issues with my Jeep. Stay tuned...

Slapping the Ceilings

My last entry ended with the kitchen remodel phase one, with the promise of the popcorn ceiling coming to an end.

Following the guidance of many advisers such as Google, the DIY Network, YouTube, and an assortment of local friends willing to give quality insight, the popcorn ceiling did not stand a chance against my assault. The moistened ceiling came down like cooked oatmeal that sat out just a little too long.

One long day brought the ceiling down in a sloppy mess, dancing the furniture from room to room as I scraped the sheet rock clean. Over the next few days I rolled on the texture and then proceeded to slap the ceiling.

Yes, I slapped the ceiling alright! I slapped it good, too. The texture pattern we chose included a fanned out horse brush, which when slapped hard against the fresh texture, left a nice imprint of the bristles. Of course, one slap isn't good enough, so the brush is rotated in the air and slapped again... and again... and again. It's an entertaining exercise for about 23 seconds, then it becomes work and the thrill is gone.

The ceiling texture, primer, and paint is finally complete and I must say my shoulders and neck are feeling the pain. I'm sure I added another half inch to my collar size, making me buff from the shoulders up, which looks fine as long as I'm wearing a shirt.

Earlier this week, my wife found an older gentleman standing on the sidewalk looking at our house. Bold and courageous, she marched outside with phone in hand and questioned the attention he gave to our house.

Turns out, he built the place in 1977, and currently lives in the house down the hill directly behind us! His fondness for this house showed by his immediate recollection of the use of oak throughout the house, the large stone fireplace, and the popcorn ceilings (which he apologized for).

As only my wife could do, she turned a 'stranger-danger' situation into a friendly encounter AND an invitation to a local fly fishing club for me.

I would like to think we are getting close to end of the late night painting parties, and DIY adventures, but realistically it's nowhere on the horizon. Next step: engineered hardwood floors. My back hurts just thinking about it!