Should husbands and wives procreate AND renovate??

Iffy.

You know the old book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus? In my opinion, there is a reason they compared men to Mars, which denotes being “out there” or crazy, and women to Venus which has the connotation of beauty and grace. Makes perfect sense to me. Now, I’m not about to bash men. Truly I’m not. Some of the best times in my life revolved around the opposite sex. However, when you decide to take on a renovation with your man, you are stepping into dangerous territory or simply put, stepping into doo—doo.

Phil and I do pretty well in the beginning and then slowly we start to wear on each other’s nerves. And it’s all his fault. For sure. Remember I’m from Venus. Perfect. Never annoying. Always delightful. He’s from Mars. Irrational. Weird. Three heads. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. It’s not that there is any yelling - although we are probably both yelling in our head “IDIOT!” -  just exasperated looks and a whole lot of mumbling under the breath.

One of the causes of these frustrations we have while working together is lack of communication. Women in general use words (lots of them) to communicate. Usually more than a man wants to hear. Phil is a man of few words, unless he is watching the news and then it’s a free-for-all peppered with a lot of profanity. So, while working together sometimes he thinks I can just read his mind about how to help him lift something, or where to shine the flashlight, or which wrench to hand him, or maybe I just happened to ignore the fact that he was in the crosshairs of the spray paint. Honest mistake, really.

He is an efficiency expert. I’m the opposite. It’s Oscar and Felix from The Odd Couple all over again. Yet we managed to gut a bathroom and completely re-do it and somehow remained man and wife. It was touch and go though. But when we finished and stood back and looked at our work, we were proud of each other and also secretly thankful one of us didn’t shoot the other with the nail gun. I know that behind the scenes in the new show “Fixer Upper” that Chris and Joanna Gaines must call each other an ass under his or her breath every once and awhile, or at least roll their eyes when the other one isn’t looking. They CAN’T be that happy right? I think it’s a plot to make the rest of us look like failures as renovating spouses.

The reason I’m bringing this up now is that we are nearing the end of the master bedroom renovation. We made it through the dresser mirror installation – barely. Is it my fault that it took me such a long time to decide where to hang it? Yes the mirror is huge and he was holding it up all that time by himself. Hmmphf. Small detail. At least it is to someone from Venus.

However, even with that small glitch it’s been going pretty smoothly, but shark infested waters lie ahead. It’s time for the crown moulding. Crown moulding means that I will be an integral part of the installation, meaning I’m supposed to hold the other end. It’s inevitable that I will silently be asked to read his mind and will fail to do so thus resulting in a calamity.  Uh oh – a nail gun is involved in this. Maybe I should wear a suit of armor. 

A sneak peak at the progress we have made... together.

BEFORE: a hot mess

AFTER: sleek, and contemporary

Which would YOU choose? Wisdom or youth?

My husband, I, and another couple had a belated birthday celebration for me this weekend. We went out to a lovely restaurant for dinner and then enjoyed some wonderful entertainment in the lounge. I had a great time – really I did. Danced with my husband, had great conversation with friends, received presents – that’s always a plus. But despite the superb company and awesome food, I found myself continually watching the 30 to 40 something women who were in the restaurant and discovered I was becoming envious of them. I hated that. I don’t want to be jealous of anyone – well except maybe George Clooney’s new wife, which should be allowed – because I realize I’m extremely lucky. I am a decent looking, overall healthy 60 year old with an acceptable body, and a family who loves me. In between my bites of salmon, I began questioning why I was obsessing over something that they had that I could not have – namely youth. Obviously, this is something over which I have no control. I began to ponder, should I be thinking, as the old saying goes, “It’s better than the alternative” and just be glad to be alive? I started to do some serious reflecting and have been asking myself how I can get over this and accept where I am and who I am at this time in my life. I want to get to the point where I don’t long for the past or how I looked in the past or miss having a “presence” as opposed to being invisible yada yada yada. I need to stop whining in my head. Why can’t I be satisfied that I have two beautiful children and grandchildren, a good marriage, and have had successful careers? Is something wrong with me? Is too much of my self-esteem tied up with looks as opposed to brains? Man, if so, I guess I’m shallow. Like an evaporating puddle. Maybe I need an intervention.

For a nanosecond I wondered if the women in the restaurant looked at me and were envious of the wisdom gained throughout my years. Not a chance. Let’s be honest. They don’t even look at me let alone long for my wisdom and experience. Did I notice 60 year olds when I was their age? Heck no. In our society we put so much more emphasis on looks than we do on wisdom and obviously, in my own head, I have fallen into that trap. Shame on me.

My sis and me at the Club Med in Cancun. I was a whole 23 years old. We were "hot to trot". 

This is a work in progress and on a very personal level. On a practical level I believe it’s a waste of time to desire something that is unattainable – meaning turning back time. And I hate to waste time – ask my children. My sis and I have deep, but humorous, discussions about aging all the time. Neither of us is real fond of being in the aging process. Unfortunately, we have yet to convince each other that life is better in our 60s. We try though – we really do. However as I edge towards my retirement from education I do feel a bit of a spark as far as the possibility of learning something new and the excitement of a new challenge. Could this possibly replace the aspects of youth that I miss? Like dancing all night, having mind-blowing sex, or believing the world is my oyster?

NAH – hell no - but it may make things a bit easier. I’m just bein’ honest. This may take some time…or a facelift (just kidding – can’t afford it!)

Skip ahead 34 years. I'm on the right, sis on the left.

Remember when stripping was sexy?

Getting ready for hot sex and teasing the mate with a bit of strip tease… oh yea. Unfortunately, it’s now a distant memory.  Something to think about in the nursing home for sure. I can still remember it – just not do it! Even if my husband was near blind and the room was completely dark, chances are as I was gyrating around I would throw out my new hip, get a toe cramp or worse yet, trip over the string-like thong. It’s best I leave the sexy stripping to the young folk. So at this age the word “stripping” has taken on a new meaning for me. Furniture. Yep.  That is what age has done to me. Instead of slowly taking off my clothes to reveal lacy, luscious lingerie I’m donning rubber gloves, goggles and a Darth Vader-like mask.

I have undertaken refinishing all the old bedroom furniture as opposed to buying new. This set (triple dresser, armoire and nightstand) is not only made better than today’s bedroom ensembles it’s already mine which means saving a bunch of money. So far this is what have I learned about stripping furniture:

It’s smelly

It’s time-intensive

It’s hard work

When I started this project my husband had found some old stripper in the garage (this is a perfect place for a cheesy joke but I’ll give you a break). He also found all the other supplies I needed because, well – we have everything in our garage that anyone would need for anything times 2, but THAT is the subject for another post. He outfitted me with thick rubber gloves, a special mask made just for filtering fumes, and protective goggles, and told me to go for it.

“I’ll start small”, I told myself and began with the nightstand. Wow – the power of chemicals!!!! I could just watch the paint dissolving before my eyes. 

Then I realized why I was wearing all this protective gear. This stuff would eat away at human skin. It was so cool to watch the paint crackle and bubble. However that enthusiasm didn't last long because basically the stripper does the work of loosening the finish; however the real work starts after the stripper has been lathered on.

Scraping, scraping, scraping. More stripper, more scraping. I had already painted this furniture in the past so there was a layer of paint, primer, poly and stain to go through. Once the wood was exposed it’s sanding, sanding, sanding. After sanding and cleaning you are ready for whatever finish you want to put on the piece. I decided on a satin black. So I put 2 coats of primer and about 2 – 3 coats of paint. Never paint bare wood that has not been primed. Obviously this was not done in one day. This is a multi-day project. So give yourself time. For me, since I'm still working, it was a multi-weekend project.

I had issues with the drawer pulls as well. They were nasty looking and too dark. In my alternate world of unlimited budget that I like to daydream in, I would have purchased some acrylic or Lucite pulls but since I am on a tight budget I decided to spray-paint the knobs. I bought a can of silver spray paint and went at it. And ya know? They look pretty damn good.

 Remember when spray-painting wear the latex gloves and stay out of the wind. Obviously I’ve made both mistakes before.

While we are on the subject of spray-paint…I had brass curtain rods up in the bedroom. I didn’t want to spend the money to buy new ones and did not want brass, so I just spray painted the old ones black.  This would not work if the curtains would be moved back and forth on a daily basis. Because I have blinds behind the curtains, they are stationary and don’t have to worry about the paint scraping off. Take a look at how my husband created a cool way for me to spray paint these little devils. He’s a genius!

With the pieces hanging it made it a breeze to spray paint.

So now the nightstand is done, pulls are done, and curtain rods are done.  The mammoth triple dresser was stripped this weekend and the stripping was definitely NOT sexy! It was a bear to strip. In the midst of all the stripping and scraping I was cussing at myself for not going to the furniture store and buying new. I wish I could blame someone else for this decision (like my husband) however I have to admit it was all me. Sometimes my bright ideas aren't too bright. I will forge on and complete this project but next time I'm going to Ethan Allen.

Ready for primer and paint. YEA!

Can you actually have fun painting a house?

No – not really. But it made a good title. Sorry for messin’ with ya. Painting is hard, tedious work but it is the least expensive and highest impact change to décor. I'm now mid-renovation for the master bedroom and believe me when I say it's much easier for me than it was 30 years ago.

What a mess. But it will be worth it in the end.

When we first moved into this house, I was a virgin.  Homeowner, that is. I was 30 so chances of me being the other kind of virgin were slim to none. Up until that time I was an apartment dweller and a bit nomadic as young people tend to be. So when my husband said, “Patti, go pick out the wallpaper, light fixtures, flooring, and paint for the house.” I was overwhelmed. Excited, but overwhelmed. I knew NOTHING about all this and predictably I made some horrible choices - with pretty much everything. I chose white carpet for god’s sake. Did I mention we live in Georgia?  The state with RED CLAY! I sucked at decorating a home – plain and simple.

We had a very good friend who was a contractor and was helping us with projects around the house when we first moved in. He was building an island in the kitchen as I was attempting to paint all the bedrooms (hideous colors by the way). One day I came downstairs and was in tears because I “ruined” the guest bedroom. He patiently walked upstairs with me and looked at my work. For some reason I thought lavender would be a good color choice. Must have had some sort of lack of good sense disease or something. Could have been the paint fumes. Anyway, I had it all over the ceiling and all over the trim. At that point, he made me back away from the roller and brush and took the time to show me some tips and tricks. I never looked back. And I changed the lavender.

He taught me how to use a trim brush so I never have to tape off. That in itself is invaluable. What a time saver! However, no matter how well he taught me to paint the walls and ceilings there was nothing he could do about the fact that when I’m finished painting I’ve pretty much got paint everywhere. I mean I end up with paint in places on my body, as a southerner would say, “Where the sun don’t shine”. How the hell does that happen? If I drip paint on the drop cloth it’s 100% sure I will step in it. I get it all over my clothes, hair and exposed skin but the job on the walls is superb. I have drawers of “painting and renovating” clothes. Mostly because I never listened to my husband when he told me to change into old clothes before I started painting, therefore I have ruined lots of clothes. Lots of them. I’m not exactly a quick study. Why can’t I be like the stars on TV who wear tight jeans, white tops and have absolutely no paint on them? Are you kidding me? They must roll on paint for the camera for 1 minute and then have the crew take over. I look like hell when I’m painting – no makeup, nasty clothes and old shoes. You should do the same. Be comfortable.

If you are a novice painter (like I was) there are a few other tips I’d like to share with you that will make your life easier when you take on a painting project.

• Wear latex or disposable gloves with a tight fit when you paint. I didn’t discover this until about a year ago. Don’t ask me why I didn’t think of this earlier. It makes SO much sense. Believe me – I have had paint in my fingernails and wedged in between all the wrinkles in my hands and fingers. Gloves are a must. Just dispose of them when you are done.  1,000 years from now, in some landfill, someone will find all my old painting gloves. Seriously.
• Use plastic roller tray liners. I will NEVER wash another roller pan again. When I dispose of them I fold them and tie it up in a plastic grocery bag. I’m sure the “green” police are starting to get alerted about all this but hey – these things are the BEST. I buy the contractor packs.
•  Use a handheld small container for cutting in and trim.  They sell them at the home improvement stores. Here is the best part – they make disposable liners for that too, which I also throw away in a plastic grocery bag. Please don’t picket my house. 

  

  Love to use this for painting trim

•  Invest in a good trim brush. I do take care of my brushes. I wash them thoroughly in warm soapy water and then carefully wrap them in paper towels to keep the bristles together as they dry. See…I do keep something!
• You can skimp on quality rollers for priming but buy a better one for the wall color paint. Here Is another thing re-users and recyclers will hate – When I am done with a roller I throw it away. Yep. I’m guilty. When I’m finished I put my hand in a plastic grocery bag, grab the roller, and pull it off the roller handle thingy. It will automatically be inside the grocery bag and your hands will be clean. Well clean physically however metaphorically I guess they are “dirty” because you didn’t recycle or re-use. Sigh…
• Canvas drop cloths are best, but if you don’t have them use old sheets doubled up (in case of spills and splats). While using these I place a large piece of hard cardboard (cut up box) on the sheet and leave the paint can, roller pan etc. on the cardboard. Throw it away after you’re done! Oops. Sorry recyclers. I should get some brownie points for re-using old sheets though.
•  Use a step ladder as opposed to a tall ladder. It’s much easier to handle, move around and perfect for 8 ft. ceilings. Use a small extender for the roller. If you have taller ceilings you will need a regular ladder and hopefully you have a hunk like Anthony Carillo (Kitchen Cousins) hanging around just to help you move it from place to place. Most of us don’t have an “Anthony”, so if you can, use a step ladder. And really, if Anthony was in your house why in the hell are you spending your time painting?

  

  My trusty stepladder. Note the paint drips.
  Yep - that's me!

•  Use cling wrap or zip lock bags to keep your brushes and rollers that are full of paint moist if you will need them again later that day. This is not for when you will be painting next weekend or next month though. If you won’t be getting back to the job within 24 hours suck it up and wash the brushes and plan on using a new roller.
•  Turn on your favorite music.  Sing and shake a tail feather as you paint. For heaven’s sake don’t shake the brush or roller – just your butt. It makes the process much more enjoyable. You may look and sound like a fool, but who cares?

I’m sure I have completely alienated myself from anyone who is earth friendly with my time and work saving tips; however painting is time-consuming hard work and anything that makes it easier is a good thing (now I sound like Martha Stewart). If you have hesitated to take on a paint project don’t. You can do it. Be sure to get the gloves though. Your hands will thank me later. 

What do you mean I didn’t win?

One characteristic of my personality that honestly some may find annoying is that I am forever the optimist. When things look down, I look up.  While others are finding all that is wrong with the world, I’m trying to find what’s right. Some people are Negative Nellies, I’m a Positive Patti. I forever see the pot at the end of the rainbow – or in this case The House at the end of the sweepstakes.

You know all those online contests that the home improvement networks have? The Dream Home, the Smart Home, Blog Cabin, Urban Oasis – I enter them all. Each day. Multiple times. And before you call the sweepstakes police, it’s allowed Nellie – so there!  And here’s the part MOST people (except me) find humorous. I even go so far as to check out the fine print of the Sweepstakes Rules to see when the prize patrol will be coming to my house to notify me that I’m the big winner. As I enter those contests, I fantasize how winning the prize will change our lives. I have detailed discussions with my husband (OK it’s mostly me talking and him nodding) regarding whether we should take the house or the cash prize. I mean I really think hard about this – it’s a big decision! He appeases me by pretending like he’s really paying attention, but I can see his sideways glances that say “She’s nuts and why in the world did I ever marry her?” Right now you are probably wondering why I’m not seeking help for this affliction, which I might actually be able to afford if I won one of these prizes!

Here’s the kicker. I'm always surprised when I don’t win. Then I get pissed. Yep. I do. How can my “number” never come up? My ship never come in? My luck never change? Sigh...

So right now I’m waiting for them to come knocking on my door to tell me that I won the Blog

Blog Cabin backyard. I'm perfect for this place!

Cabin. Phil and I could be very happy in Winter Haven, Florida. I’m convinced.  I’ll even put up with the mosquitoes. And by his silent nodding and glazed over eyes, I’m taking it that he agrees that a move would be a good idea. If time goes by and no van pulls up with balloons and a sign and a TV camera, I will be mad once again. I will curse at the TV shows and swear I’ll never get my hopes up again and then … I will get my trusty laptop and go ahead and enter the Urban Oasis Sweepstakes and wait for THAT prize patrol to come knocking sometime in November.  Surely I will win that one.

Who knew my mom was so hip?

My mom 2 months prior to passing away.

Have you ever seen that commercial where a couple sets a very cool, sleek and expensive Delta faucet in front of an architect and challenges, “Design a house around this!”? Well, that is kind of what has happened in regards to my master bedroom makeover and a pair of lamps. Yes, a pair of lamps -  a pair of 30 year old lamps.

I had mentioned previously that my mother recently passed away. March 16, 2014. She was 92 and loved beyond belief by her two daughters. She lived in a one bedroom condo in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida that she and my dad bought in the early 1980s. They decorated the small space precisely to their tastes and as of March 16, 2014 it looked exactly the same as it did in the 1980s. They were frugal, never frivolous.  Extremely generous and giving  to their children and grandchildren but allowed no waste, no unnecessary spending, and always had a bit in the savings account for that rainy day. Both of my parents lived through the Great Depression which affected them for the remainder of their lives and inadvertently affected my sister and me too. Neither of us had “cool” clothes to wear to school. While my peers were wearing Villager skirts and Bass Weejun loafers, I was wearing Sears and Roebuck and Thom McAn. While others were driving Firebirds or Cutlasses I was borrowing my dad’s old Corvair. We begged and pleaded but mom stood strong and did not spend over our means just to placate whining children.  It was a lasting gift my parents gave us - a good head on our shoulders in regards to money and that need to have a savings account for those storms that will undoubtedly come one day.

 In regards to decorating, my mom and dad liked clean lines and absolutely no clutter. They were SO excited when they purchased Lucite (looks like acrylic) tables and lamps for the living room and thought they were living high on the hog. They also purchased a “cat” sculpture made of tiny, dark grey and white pieces of mirror that sat upon the Lucite table like royalty and sparkled like a disco ball in the sunlight. “These were expensive!” they would exclaim every time my sister and I suggested they make a change.  Care was taken to never set any glasses on the tables without a napkin or coaster. Dad had glued felt on the bottom of the mirrored cat to avoid unwanted scratches on the precious Lucite. My mom bought a special cleaner especially made just for this furniture and the grandkids were not allowed to color or play on the tables. These were prized possessions.  Donna and I would snicker and think that the décor was “dated” and that Lucite was just a fancy name for plastic. Because – well you know we are just so much more “with it” than our parents. Don’t we all think that?

My dad died in 2000 and my mom continued to live in the condo and stay pretty active throughout the remainder of her life. She still hung on to those Lucite furnishings and mirrored cat with a vise-like grip and made us promise that if anything happened to her we would make sure we took those pieces. My sister and I used to have conversations about this and talk about what the hell we were going to do with these things if mom died. YOU take it – no YOU take it – no YOU take it and so forth and so on.

Well, Mom died. Still hard for me to realize. Still hard to say. It sticks in my throat (or keyboard in this case) and causes my eyes to brim. As we were going through the condo, packing the things we thought she would want us to have, Donna agreed to take the Lucite coffee table, end table and bookshelf. I came back to Georgia with the lamps and the cat.  My sister did some research online and not only found that these items are quite “in” right now but VERY valuable. I mean these lamps are worth about a major chunk of change! My daughter told me recently that she saw a sculpture resembling the “cat” with a price tag of $2000.00 on Rodeo Drive. Who would have thunk it? My Mom always thought she was hip and trendy and now my sis and I cannot disagree.

"Disco" Kitty

The lamps are my Delta faucet. I made the decorating plan for the bedroom around them. I would have done that even if they were not fashionable, chic, or pricey. They are part of my mom and dad and I cannot wait to have them lit in my new bedroom. The cat will find a prominent spot to once again “rule” with its prisms of light. Somehow I think Mom would be pleased.

The color palate in the bedroom will be shades of grey (not 50 though), black, white and with an accent color that I have not decided on yet. What do you think -  black or white lampshades? Let me know!

These lamps will eventually be placed on nightstands on each side of the bed.

Is it possible to give something old new life?

When my husband and I moved to Georgia over 29 years ago we dragged a lot of old furniture with us that was in our previous residence. Tucked in that moving van was an old bedroom set that was about 10 years old at that time – a triple dresser, armoire and nightstand. This bedroom suite was purchased by my husband before I was even a twinkle in his eye.  And honestly I never really liked it, but it’s all we had and it was functional for the time being. It had water rings scattered on the nightstand and on the dresser there were spots where the varnish had all but disappeared from splashes of my husband’s cologne. My thought was that we would keep this until we can get a new ensemble – something that I liked too. Well jump ahead 29 years and that same bedroom furniture is still taking up space in our master bedroom.  Things got in the way of my plan for new furniture … like having children. And then those children needed bedroom furniture and not just once – at least twice - from baby to young person! Their rooms looked better than ours and still do and they are not even living here anymore! WTF.

I made the attempt to paint the furniture once and did a crappy job.

It's hideous  - I know. But it will look great when I'm finished refinishing it (and clean off the top!).

Hey I’m honest. I did not strip the stain and varnish. I just sanded a bit and slopped some black paint on it. Frankly it looked worse. Now I was not only stuck with furniture I didn't like, but stuck with furniture that looked ghetto.

When I began thinking about renovating the bedroom I of course wanted to start with the furniture, and my impulse was to buy new. I did some research online, scanned sale fliers and even walked through furniture stores. I soon realized that I would never be able to afford a set with the quality of workmanship that the old one has - dovetailed drawers, real wood throughout the entire set and NO MDF in sight. The bottoms of the drawers are thick slabs of wood and are sturdy and reliable. Not like the kind of furniture you screw together where the bottoms of the drawers sag and sometimes fall out of the little slots that were meant to hold them in place. The only screws in this furniture are where the drawer handles meet the wood.

Nightstand is done and looks great!

So this time I have decided to strip it to the bare wood and repaint it. I’m painting the triple dresser and nightstand black and the armoire white. Stripping, sanding and then priming before painting - yes – this time I’m doing it right. I’m using latex enamel with a satin finish. 

I now realize saving and caring for this furniture is a metaphor for other things that are old – namely people.  Even though we may show our age, we still have some admirable qualities that can still be of worth. Just like the old bedroom furniture, we need a little work on the outside, but once you strip down to the actual stuff we're made of you discover we're tough, resilient and valuable. I decided not to discard but to re-imagine these pieces of furniture with a new finish and proudly showcase them in our master suite. Sometimes giving something old new life is the right thing to do!