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One of the things I managed to accomplish during my recent blog hiatus, was to re-paint the center hall, and finally hang up some family photos!  I considered painting the above bench in one of the colors on the paint chips, but by the time I had painted the hall (in the same boring off white that it was before) and hung up all the photos, I was far too limp and pale and weak and exhausted to paint that bench.  

 

 

 

 

To hang the photos, I found a pleasing pattern by laying them out on the floor.  Some of these photos were taken by Mrs. Mama last Fall.  Some of them are wedding photos taken by Rick Mitchell in Lawrence, Kansas and a few I took myself.

I got the frames with the wide mats at Target.  I couldn’t decide which style of frame I liked the best, so I eventually bought a few of each variety.  The wedding photos were framed a long time ago in the cheapest frames I could find.  

 

 

 

 

I cut newspapers to the size of the frames and hung them up just like I had laid them out on the floor.  I quickly decided that the frames were going to go up too high on the wall and they seemed to draw my eye right to the ugly doorbell and the unsightly wall vent… so I trudged back to the drawing board and started all over again.  

 

 

 

 

I re-organized the photos to have less height and more width.

 

 

 

 

I re-hung the newspapers….

And I re-hung them

and re-hung them

and re-hung them…

Until my freshly painted walls were covered in enough newspaper ink to completely disguise the fact that they ever were freshly painted walls.

 

 

 

 

 

I eventually found something that I thought I could live with and I started hanging photos.

 

 

 

 

I started in the center, screwing the wall mounts right through the ‘x’ I had marked on the newspapers.

 

 

 

 

I kept going…

 

 

 

 

And kept going…

 

 

 

 

 

I am not much of a perfectionist, so I was relying heavily on gestalt and luck and an innate reckless abandon that has guided me throughout my entire life.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think it turned out pretty good!  The hallway is not nearly as bleak and soul-less as it was.  Did you know that I did this exact same project once before?  The problem with family photos is that they just keep changing.  How many more times will I re-do this wall?  And what about that bench?  Do you think it could use some color?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And how long until I find a spot for all the left-overs?

Originally posted October 2007

Over the course of building our house, I have had a few very minor disagreements with my builder, Dennis.

 

 

 

A few months back, he did not appreciate my decision to leave the pine treads and risers on the steps to the loft unpainted.   I had originally told him that I was going to paint them and with that in mind, he did not choose flawless boards for the treads. Some of the boards have tool marks, and some minor dents and dings, but I don’t mind. I think they look rugged and edgy and cool and I am just going to apply a few coats of polyurethane and call it done.  

 

 

 

 

Dennis does not agree, and would have chosen perfect boards if he knew they were going to be left exposed to every eyeball that ever looked their way.  

 

 

 

 

 

He also does not like this medicine cabinet.

That is to say – he does not like that I am not going to re-finish this medicine cabinet.

When he first saw it, he asked me if I was going to paint it.

“No” I said, “I think I am just going to leave it like it is.”

“With all that peeling paint?”

“Yes – I think it looks cool.”

Dennis shook his head, sighed deeply, rolled his eyes and said, “You are a dingbat.”

I bought this medicine cabinet at Architectural Salvage in Kansas City. I bought it because according to every single home design article I have ever read in Country Living Magazine, This Old House, Country Home, BHG, Popular Science, The New Yorker and National Geographic – if you don’t have a piece of salvage in your house it is not really a house. It is really more like a hovel…or a cave…or a hole in the ground. Desperate to live up to the standards of these style setting tomes, I went out and got me some salvage.

 

 

 

 

 

I must say that I do really love this cabinet, and I do really love the peeling paint. I am not just some sort of mindless, catalogue junkie, magazine article directed, bunko playing, ceiling fan watching housewife without a brain. Dingbat is a much more accurate description.

 

 

 

 

It is pretty ain’t it?

A few weeks ago, I toured the home of Mary Carol Garrity during her summer open house.

 

 

 

 

Mary Carol Garrity is the owner of the fabulous Nell Hill’s and Garrity’s stores in Atchison, Kansas as well as the newly opened Nell Hill’s at Briarcliff in Kansas City.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She has also written several books on interior decorating as well as a syndicated column called “Style at Home”

 

 

 

 

I have to admit to not being very adept at decorating my own home.

With four boys in the house, it is enough to just keep a pathway clear from the front door to the bathrooms.

 

 

 

But that does not stop me from enjoying someone else’s beautifully decorated home.

 

 

 

 

A girl can dream can’t she?

 

 

 

 

I used to love to decorate and got a huge kick out of arranging things on walls and table tops and along the mantle piece.  

I made curtains.  I collected old plates and actually hung them on the wall.  I created floral arrangements and seasonal wreaths and I made throw pillows to lay my aching head on after all that woefully wearying flower arranging. 

 

 

 

Now I look at decorative items and I just see one more thing to dust…

 

 

 

 

 

One more thing that will get broken during an indoor soccer match…

 

 

 

 

One more thing that will get mistaken for a Frisbee, a basketball goal or a receptacle from which to feed the cats…

 

 

 

So instead I visit other people’s homes and I dream…

I dream  of having a beautifully decorated home with furniture that has not been mercilessly ripped to shreds by the world’s most beautiful show cats, where no corn chips are ever scattered in a trail of crumbs from the kitchen to the garage and back again nine hundred time, and where the dirty dishes actually get placed in the dishwasher and not left to die a slow and painful death under the dresser in the back bedroom. 

 

 

 

 

A home where the only sticky spots on the floor are those left by the mottled sunlight… and they aren’t even sticky!

A home where the toilets clean themselves, the mud room is the only room with any mud in it, and my children suddenly understand why it is so important to their mother that all the bath towels be folded the same way and they ACTUALLY FOLD THEM RIGHT!

But that is not going to happen anytime soon is it?

So I will just have to hang on until Mary Carol opens her home to the masses again.  

 

 

 

 

 

If I can last that long…

 

PS – Mrs. Mama fixed the above photo for me.  Ain’t it pretty?

Is there anything more wonderful than a paint chip? Okay maybe a few things, but right now I am really loving paint chips. For one thing, they are free! You can walk into any local lumber yard, Home Depot, Lowes, Ace, True Value, and fill you pockets and your purse, and stuff some in your bra, and your socks and then roll up the brochures and tuck them up the legs of your pants,and down your sleeves and slide a few xtras in your shoes, and walk out of the store waving to the hidden video camera on your way out and NO ONE can do anything about it!

I do try and be discreet. I pull one color out of the display, turn it over, and then put it back. I step back from the display and pretend to mull. When the clerk comes over to ask if I need help, I say, ” Oh I am just looking.” as I pick up a chip, shake my head and PUT IT BACK.

As soon as the clerk walks away, I grab huge handfuls of colors. Sometimes, I even take three or four of the SAME color so I can get a better idea of what it will look like when I get home.

My paint chip binges are always accompanied with a blue tinge of sadness. I think back to my new mom/first home phase, when Martha Stewart was the queen of paint chip displays. Her displays in K-Mart were my mantra and she was my spiritual decorating Zen goddess. Martha and I painted many a bedroom, kitchen, hallway, bathroom, nursery, living room, book case, chair, and garage sale treasure. Her paint chips were large, her colors were luscious. Her paint made me feel important, useful, smart, and like I belonged. Then it disappeared. I couldn’t find her paint anywhere. I guess the jail stint did in the paint division. Too bad – her recipes are too freaking complicated for me, and I don’t sew or craft, but I could relate to that girl’s paint.

These days I am looking to Ralph to lead the way. Ralph Lauren has some great colors and interesting techniques on display at Home Depot. Even though Sherwin Williams is currently the reigning king of the BIGGEST PAINT CHIP EVER!

I have been thoroughly seduced by Ralph – mostly because it is Ralph, and I succumbed to that particular brand years ago (though I am somewhat bothered by one of the brochures which shows a blond painting a wall in a lacy blouse). However, I am willing to overlook a few bizarre personality traits, for a big paint chip and a hoity toity paint brochure.

P.S. – I drove to Topeka and popped in Lowe’s to look at tile and who did I find there? Martha! Her paint has moved to Lowe’s But alas – it was not the same…

She is now a part of a snooty clique that includes Eddie Bauer and Laura Ashely and Waverly. They were nice to me, but I knew they were talking about me behind my back. Martha and I tried to rekindle the old spark. I mulled over her display. I tentatively reached for a color chip. But it was too late. My heart had already fled into the arms of another. And his name is Ralph and it is not because Martha and I didn’t have something real and true – it is just that people change…evolve…it is not anybody’s fault. Plus,long distance relationships are hard to maintain in the paint department. It is difficult to drive to Topeka to pick up an extra gallon or two. So Martha and I had to go our separate ways. I will always look back fondly at our time together. She threw a wine bottle at my head as I walked away.

It took a while to make up our minds. We stood in front of the door display in Home Depot flipping through the various door profiles for what seemed like an eternity, Our four boys entertained themselves by having shopping cart races, building forts in the lumber section, playing hide and seek in the insulation display, and opening and shutting every kitchen cabinet in Home Depot 4000 times. We pretended that we did not know them.

While there, several good friends stopped by and gave us their opinions. And though sound, we eventually chose otherwise. In fact we chose a door that I fell in love with years ago. A door that I saw, and thought, the country doctor will hate that door. He will think that door is too contrived. He will think that door is pretentious. He will think it is just a little too spiffy. But he didn’t. He liked it as much as I did.

Then we had to decide if it was too busy of a door to go on all the room doors and all the closets. So while our children knocked down old ladies with their shopping carts we debated and debated and debated. Finally we just decided to do every door the same.

Here they are. They just seemed to scream farmhouse with quirky people living inside.

JELD-WEN : Molded – Molded Interior Doors – Passage – Door Designs

On the main floor we are going to do solid wood doors from Koch and Company – a Seneca Kansas Company.

Koch

I am in complete and utter agony. Torture torture torture. There are two sides to my misbegotten, bizarre, giant weirdo personality. The first half of my personality likes for things to be nice, well made, pretty, interesting, and somehow right. I am not a perfectionist. I can live with flaws and mistakes, but I can’t live with outright ugly. Outright ugly must be fixed as soon as possible with a can of paint, a piece of fabric, a glue gun, paperclips… whatever it takes.

Now the other half of my personality hates to tell people what to do. HATES it! Unless it is my own kids. And even then, I prefer for them to figure things out on their own. But because I don’t want to raise misbegotten, bizarre, giant weirdo kids like myself, I try to shape them somewhat with a few orders sent their way now and then. Everyone else in the world is on their own. I don’t want to tell you how to do things, what to do, and especially to do something over again.

So today – I had to mix these two ends of my personality – the end that likes pretty things and the end that hates to tell people to do something over again. And it was awful and I still fell like crap and I think I will for quite a while.

The cabinets didn’t turn out quite like I had imagined – actually it is just the drawer fronts in the kitchen. I ordered plain slab drawer fronts because I am deranged and didn’t want to have to clean out little grooves. So I thought what difference does it make… a few drawers will be plain… the rest of the cabinets will be fancy and just the drawers plain. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. The rest of the cabinets are gorgeous. But the drawer fronts which were built exactly to MY specifications look ALL WRONG! They turned out big and slabby, and square, and like evil robot drawers! It is my fault – mine mine mine – but it has to be fixed and I had to ask for it to be fixed and it was very very hard.

Over the course of this construction process I have had to do this more than once. Not a lot, but enough to get a teensy bit better at it. I am still terrible, but not as terrible. So – I asked for the change and said I am sorry ten thousand times and then I got down on my belly and slunk out of the cabinet shop. I feel like I murdered someone. Is their a drug out there to make this go away… Can someone suggest a good psychiatrist?… Maybe I’ll just go get a frozen Dr. Pepper…

After I slunk off, I came home and talked to the country doctor. And may I just say that if the country doctor was a psychiatrist, all of his patients would have shot themselves long ago. His “PLEASE make me feel better about myself please” skills are TERRIBLE. He makes me feel WORSE. However, he did agree to go back out to the cabinet shop with me to see what the best remedy would be.

When we arrived, I was sure that all the men who work there would be stationed in the bushes with a rifle pointed at my head. At best, I figured they would all fall silent and look away when I walked in. But they didn’t. They actually were very nice. One came up and said – you know you are going to stare at these cabinets a long time – you might as well get something you like. They they all took turns making fun of me for changing things this late in the game INCLUDING THE COUNTRY DOCTOR!!! – But at least they were laughing with… I mean at… me and not tossing me out on the streets.

I feel I need to remind everyone that I live in a small town. Those of you who live in big cities might think it is absurd to worry about how the cabinet makers feel – but the thing is that I will see these men downtown, at school functions, at parades, in the grocery store, and at ball games, for the rest of my life. So maintaining a decent relationship is kind of important. It is probably wise even if you live in L.A. or N.Y.C. You never know when you might have to work with someone again. OH NO – I think I just told you what to do! Now I will have to slink off and go get another frozen Dr. Pepper.

I have a thing for old sinks. I have tried all sorts of new age therapies, homemade herbal remedies and straight up chemical detox and I still have a thing for old sinks. I just think they are soooooo beautiful. Why did they stop making them?

Oh! Maybe because they weight 17 tons. People must have been tougher in the old sink days. Because I can’t fathom why they would even bother installing these things when instead, they could just wait until it rains to wash their dishes. That is how heavy these things are! What were the shipping costs? Plumbers must have been former professional weight lifters!

I bought the kitchen sink on E-bay. I looked for a long time trying to find one that I could afford and that had two bowls, at least one side which had to be fairly deep. I was hoping for both an apron front and a backsplash, but the price on this one was hard to beat. This one was listed under “old sinks” instead of “vintage” or “antique” sinks – so it did not get nearly the bids that some of the sinks I was going for received. As a result it was truly a bargain. Until you ADD THE SHIPPING!!!

And above is pictured our lovely laundry room sink which I also got on EBay, for 10 bucks. It was located close by, so I picked it up and paid zero shipping. It is in pretty rough shape. I may have to get it re-surfaced. Which will make it not such a bargain anymore.

Above is pictured our main floor bathroom sink. It was originally a wall sink. When I bought it , it was in almost perfect condition. The large chip happened while at the cabinet shop. They are going to pay for the repair. I decided to have the sink placed on a base. I think a longer “skirt board” is needed as well as a shelf on the lower half to sort of break up those very long legs. I am going to paint the wood when it is all done. Trust me – this is going to look great. You just have to believe.

And here is our free footed tub. Eric, our plumber salvaged it out of a rental house he owns. He told us if we got it out of the house, we could have it. It will also have to be re-finished. I was under the impression we could get it re-finished on site, so we hauled it up the stairs to the master bath. However, since I would like both the inside and the outside of the tub re-finished, it has to be done in the re-finisher’s shop. So now, we have to haul it back down the stairs. A task I will probably try and accomplish today. So if I never post again, you will know that I have perished – crushed beneath a twenty ton tub.