RenovationGirl

How Do You Live Without Them?

After living in an old home for the past seven years, we often forgot "how the other half lives."  This usually comes as we peek out from under the covers on this blustery winter nights and see the curtains swaying as the wind whips through the many crevices around our original, 130 year old windows.  We bemoan about how expensive it is to make repairs on our house, how drafty it can be, what a bear it can be to clean original pine floors that desperately need to be refinished.  But during these cold winter months, we also marvel at how you new construction/modern home people (and in this category we include anyone living in a house dating 1950's and later) live without one very important feature:

Radiators.  Seriously, how do you live without them?  We are so happy that in all the owners of this house and during the time it was apartments, the radiators were left alone.  Although only two of the radiators in the house are original to our home (the house stood empty before the owners before us bought it and during that time, the radiators froze up and burst), all the radiators date to the same 1880's time frame.  They are ornate and lovely and oh so functional.  You'd be amazed at their versatility!

We use them for so many things...

 
to keep our pizza warm...

 
to soften up the butter when I'm baking...

 
to quickly dry off the snow gear for another snowman making sessions...

 
and, of course, so that the cats have yet another place to take a warm nap! (She usually squeezes herself under the radiator!!!)

They also serve as awesome towel warmers in the bathroom and the tall ones are great to lean over when you have cramps or to lean against when you have a back ache. 

The biggest downfall, is, of course, that we can't have air conditioning just yet (way too expensive for the method we'd need), but in the meantime, we'll enjoy our cozy, warm radiators (and ignore the drafty windows...). 

 

Just a Weekend

This weekend was just a weekend.  While this sounds mundane or routine, it was everything but that.  For most people, this would be like every single weekend of their adult lives.  But for us, with so many jobs and a house that requires constant work, this weekend was a glorious "just a weekend."

For the first time in probably six months, I had the entire weekend off.  Okay, well, I had all day Saturday and Sunday off (we'll forget that I worked Friday night...).  Our goal was to de-clutter our office which is the thoroughfare to our downstairs bathroom and one of the ways you can get to our kitchen.  My desk is very large and it is one of the smallest rooms in our house.  We have one built-in bookcase, a fireplace, four doors and two large windows in this room.  We also have two tall and two small bookcases, as well as two short tables.  Oh, and one tall CD shelving unit.  You don't even have to see the place to realize that there is far too much stuff in there.  I have been working hard to get rid of many of my books (a very difficult task for me!) as well as knick-knacky things that accumulate there. While my efforts were strong, as we worked this weekend, they didn't seem quite enough.  We have way too much stuff!

We spent Saturday working on moving things around, cleaning behind furniture, and re-organizing.  Saturday night, we went out to dinner with friends, then came home and enjoyed a quaint little movie (Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day).  We went to bed tired, but feeling like we accomplished something. 

On Sunday, we skipped church (I know, we're heathens) because Builder Boy continues to be sick (that's a whole separate post) and we didn't want him infecting the masses.  Instead, we made a quick trip to a store to buy some Christmas presents and had lunch there.  We came home and while I made a quick trip to the grocery store, Remodel Man and Builder Boy played.  We finished watching another pathetic football game (seriously?!) and then tackled more of the office while we smelled pork and sauerkraut and wieners and potatoes cooking in beer in the slow cooker. 

Now, Builder Boy is in bed, I am doing some much needed grading, Remodel Man is on his way home with Blizzards, and our office, while not completely done, is looking simplified. 

Why do I regale you with this long, drawn out post about the minutiae of my weekend?  Because I never have this relaxed and productive weekends.  Is this how the other half lives?

A Better Day

I had a crappy weekend.  It wasn't any big thing that happened, just lots of little things which caused me to revert back to the "woe is me" and "life is unfair" pity party that ended in me sobbing hysterically. 

And then there was today.  Builder Boy went fishing with my parents and he was gone for four and a half hours.  It was heavenly.  I didn't take a nap.  I didn't read a book.  I didn't even take a shower.  I cleaned and organized and cleaned some more.  Did I mention that it was heavenly?

There is so much truth to the idea that you feel more in control if the space around you is neat, tidy, and organized.  While I still have a long way to go, having such a large chunk of time today to make a large dent allows me to feel like I am at least slightly closer to my goal of not living like pigs. 

It has also opened my eyes a bit to the wonderful things in my life.  Since hearing about my roommate, I have felt even more incompetent than usual, bringing up all my old post-teen insecurities.  But today, I think I finally accepted that I am who I am.  I will never live in an immaculate home.  I will never be as patient or creative a mom as I would like to be.  I will never be rich.  Oh well. I have this beautiful and spirited little boy who loves me in his way.  I am saving a piece of history and architecture by living in this "old" home, no matter that it bleeds me dry.  While we don't have any money to spare, we mostly make our bills every month.  And even though I hate the one place at which I work, I love the kids who I teach there. 

So there it is.  Today is a better day and I am able to remind myself of the blessings in my life.  There are days when this is very hard for me, but for today, I can see clearly.

If you haven't already done so, head on over to Black Belt Mama and congratulate her on her promotion to black belts (not one, but two of them!!) and check out her new design-it looks awesome and so does her black belt!  Also, Heidi finished her first IVF last week and got a negative.  My heart is breaking for her!  If you have a second, head on over and leave an encouraging comment. 

The Staircase

When I was a little girl, I hated going to the pediatrician's office.  Besides the normal fears of shots and cold hands, what was worse was just getting there.  Our pediatrician's office was at the top of a very steep staircase and there was no elevator.  I remember standing at the bottom, gazing up from my child height, thinking that my fevered limbs would not carry me all to the top. 

I often think of that staircase even thought it's been a long time since I have had to climb it.  That staircase would show up in my dreams nights before we would open a show, or before a job interview, or before IVF cycles.  Feelings of fear that I would not be able to get to the top of that staircase.  Or successfully open a show, or get the job, or have a baby. 

Recently, without any momentous occasions, that staircase has been flitting in and out of my conscious mind.  Today, there it was as I was driving home from work.  I've been so struck recently with how many unhappy people I know, myself included.  She doesn't have a husband.  He needs a better job to pay the bills.  She wants a baby, he doesn't.  She needs more time in her day.  He needs a new car.  It strikes me because I have a hard time comprehending why we are all so unhappy.  Were our parents?  Or theirs'?  Are we just spoiled brats, having been "given" so much that we have a hard time finding the happiness?  Or do the circumstances of our society really entitle us to this unhappiness?

It's troublesome.  I don't want to raise Builder Boy surrounded by disappointment and unhappiness.  I want him to be filled with joy and wonder.  I want my friends to feel the same way.  I want to be fulfilled in the life I have been given.

So what's the next step?  Check back Friday...

Weekends, Schmeekends!

Most people love the weekend.  Friday rolls around and they feel a sense of relief, a burden temporarily lifted.  TGIF and all that good stuff. Not me, not so much.  You see, to me, the weekend days are just another day during the week.  They are two days I know I won't need to leave the house to work, two days that Remodel Man won't have to work outside the house, two days that Builder Boy won't have school, but, for me, they are no different than a weekday.  They  might even be worse.

It's my own fault, really.  Every Friday I feel that sense of excitement that comes when you know you are off the hook from work.  You feel that sense of possibility of all that you could accomplish with your couple of days off-sleep caught up, house cleaned, shopping completed, a night out with friends, and time spent with family.  Also, if you are stay at home parent, the idea of having another adult in the house to help out.  It's exciting!

But in our life, this sense of excitement never comes to fruition.  This house, while I love it, requires a lot of work, and I'm not talking cleaning and organizing.  I'm talking ripping holes in the walls, making new windows, re-wiring three floors, and time-consuming, money-consuming, constant projects.  When my weekend rolls around, it's not a time for relaxation and accomplishments.  It's a time of work, hard, physical labor requiring talent.  I don't have this talent for renovating, so Remodel man does it all.  This means that I parent...all weekend, like all week days. 

Weekends are just an extension of the week for me...they come with the hope of a different type of weekend, only to be disappointed.  They are stressful, having not had a break and continuing to not get one.  It's frustrating.  Friday to Friday I don't learn my lesson and continue to hold out hope for a weekend like I imagine many people do have.

Don't get me wrong, we have fun.  We do things.  Mostly, though, I do what I always do and Remodel Man renovates.  I'm sure he'd like a break from that just like I'd like a break from my responsibilities.  I'd like the opportunity to work on cleaning the house for 8-10 hours like he gets to renovate.  I can't imagine what that kind of time would be like, all in a row,  uninterrupted.  But we bought this house knowing the work that would go into it, so I begrudgingly move along. 

But I do wish for an occasional "normal" family weekend...

Finished Project #2

Well, it's not the most exciting of finished projects, but here is #2.  Remodel Man put in a wall at the front of our carriage house, leveled the ground with 3 tons of gravel, and now we can park some of the fleet of cars back there.  (Have I mentioned that Remodel Man has a bit of an old car fetish?) 

Here is the wall, with Builder Boy climbing on our truck:

Here is the wall and our carriage house:

 

A preview of Finished Project #3-our new roof: 

Finished Project #1

As promised (although I am late...), here is my FINISHED downstairs bathroom.  I wish I had the before picture to show you.  This room is actually half of what was the original kitchen in our house.  It took us a couple of years to even figure this out since our house had been divided into four apartments back in the late 1940's.  When we moved in, there was this hideous white wall covering that was attached to the wall with a black glue reminiscent of asphalt.  The pale green, flowered wall paper covered up a delightful orange paint.  The ceiling had been lowered with this nasty popcorn-like faux plaster stuff (Remodel Man is currently not here, so I can 't ask the official names of all of this stuff). I tore off the wall covering, scraped off the wallpaper, ripped up the nasty linoleum flooring, while Remodel Man opened up the ceiling (thereby opening the transom back up), tore out all the fixtures, redid the plumbing and wiring, tiled, painted, etc.  It feels good to have one finished project in our home.  What do you think?

Our commode and handmade cabinet:

The amazing tile work:

Remodel Man outdid himself with both handmade cabinets:

Any buyers out there?  He'll make one of these for you, too...

 

Three cheers for Remodel Man!!

The Year of Finished Projects

When we were moving out of our last house, one of the last things we did before locking the door for the last time was to finish putting up trim in the kitchen which we had redone two years before.  Two years before.  One piece of trim.  Two years.  That pretty much sums up how projects at our house go. 

We are on year four of the kitchen still needing to be completed.

Year three of the back porch and patio...

Year three of the upstairs half-bath...

Year two of the downstairs bathroom...

Year two of the office...

These are only the highlights.  There are many other little jobs that have been started and remain incomplete.  Remodel Man has very lofty goals, but has neither the time nor the finances to fulfill them.  He loves starting a new project-sometimes because it is necessary (might as well redo the wiring when you already have the floor boards pulled up) and sometimes because he's just so anxious to see another aspect of the house renovated.  Regardless of the reason, we sit amongst a plethora of unfinished projects.  But we are determined...this will be the year of the finished projects if it kills us.  And it just might!

Right now, our goal is to be done with the downstairs bathroom and most of the kitchen (that tin ceiling will have to wait until we can afford to get it...) by the end of April when we will celebrate Builder Boy's 4th birthday.  Remodel Man is busy working on the cabinetry in the bathroom (because, you know, the store bought ones just don't look right, so he's going to make them instead...sigh...) and will soon be finishing up the trim. 

It's getting so close to being done...I know we can do it.  I know we can.  We can, right?  Because I just keep thinking back to the one trim piece from our kitchen at our old house...one piece...two years...

Our House is a very very fine house...

You know the song, don't you?  By Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young?  Our House...is a very, very fine house...with two cats in the yard, life used to be so hard, now everything is easy 'cause of you.      We sang this song a lot since we first bought this house since so much of our conversation to anyone who would listen was about this new adventure in restoration.  When we first bought our Queen Anne Victorian home five years ago, we were struck with the potential in the house.  Structurally, the house was sound.  It had good bones.  Most of the beautiful wood was intact and most of the rooms' trim work was unpainted.  The upstairs floors, besides having been painted a garage floor battleship gray color (really, why would anyone do that?!), were in perfect shape once we refinished them.  The downstairs floors will need to be replaced, but not right away.  So, yes, we do have a fine house.  We even have the two cats, not outside in the yard, but at least wishing they were oustide in the yard.  And life, well, it's actually a lot harder now with this house, but yes, we do have a fine house.

This song continually plays over in my head like a top ten hit on a bad pop music station even now, 5 years and much work later.  Why?  Everytime someone refers to my house, it is always in reference to its potential.  What it will be. Not what it is.  What it will be.  And while I love to hear this praise for my home, the awe with which many of my friends discuss this historic gem, sometimes I wish their praise would be not what the house will become, but what it is.  Unfortunately, what it is right now is unfinished.  Lots of projects going on all at once, but nothing really completed.  I tell myself that this is the nature of an old home, or any home for that matter.  That there is always something to be done.  I don't need a showpiece home, but it would be nice for people to say, "Oh, Renovation Girl's house is beautiful!"  Present tense, not future.

For now, though, our house is a fine house-to us.  One day, it will be grand again and I look forward to the day when people talk about my house in the present tense.

The Classic Opening

As I contemplate on how to begin my first blog post, Charles Dickens is called to mind.  Perhaps it is the Victorian home I live in influencing my thoughts, perhaps it is the classic opening of many of his novels, or perhaps it is because I teach high school English.  It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  So begins A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, and so begins the Renovation Girl blog.

It was the best of times…a red brick Queen Anne Victorian circa 1880, mostly intact even after 50 some years as an apartment building.

It was the worst of times…a beautiful old home used to fill a void where a child should have been.

It was the age of wisdom…learning new trades while making many mistakes, reading how-to books, and calling on the experience of those who have done this before…

It was the age of foolishness…learning the hard way to “measure twice, cut once” over and over and over again…

It was the epoch of belief…that we would bring this house back to its original form, while maintaining the integrity of the home…

It was the epoch of incredulity…the child we thought would never have all of a sudden was on his way…

It was the season of Light…the anticipation of the birth of our child, the almost-completion of our biggest renovation on our home-all at the same time…

It was the season of Darkness…the awareness that perhaps we were in over our heads, financially, physically, and emotionally…

It was the spring of hope…a small, growing bundle of amazement, the dream of finishing the restoration of a loving home…

It was the spring of darkness….a taxing dream, an exhausting dream, a dream that was years in the making which would take even longer to achieve…a dream of building our family never realized…

We had everything before us…at least, we hoped so...