Thank you so much for your winter-related sympathy. Your comments on Holyoke Home's last post were awesome. I know that the garden will come back. I know snow is good for all the pretty plants that will push up through the earth. I'm just totally done with winter. It can go now.
I needed a shot of color and couldn't bring myself to put the turquoise (formerly gilt) oval mirror in the basement. You guys. I totally found the spot:
If you missed the first post about my oval gilt mirror, click here. As promised, here's the 'during' and 'after' portion of the project.
Because the mirror was recently re-framed, I wanted to avoid disassembling (no disassemble!) the whole shebang. So - as a first step - I carefully applied painter tape between the mirror and the frame, cutting the tape into little triangle bits around tight corners.
Before describing the next two steps in the 'prep' process, you need to understand: I'm messy. As a kid, every year, I asked for and received CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH SOUR CREAM CHOCOLATE FROSTING on my birthday (thank you mom. nom nom nom.) No matter the age - six, twelve, twenty-four - I managed to get chocolate in the weirdest places - hair, elbow, forehead. Guaranteed. Without fail. Also? If I make breakfast before Mr. Man in the morning? He'll often pad into the kitchen and ask, "how did she get yogurt THERE?!' I'm the same way with paint: gesticulate-y.
This plaster mirror was in the house I grew up in. I saw this mirror at least once every day until I was a teenager, at which point the number of times I looked in the mirror daily probably made 1988-era computers explode.
So when my mom asked me if I wanted it, I could not refuse its gold-leafed plaster-ness - even though it's not my style - because this mirror and I had been through peroxided bangs together (by the way? Plaster is about as heavy as a 1988-era computer.)
One of the things that attracted me to the piece was the oval beveled glass. It adds a fancy detail I like, but the gold had to go. Lately, I've been attracted to images of sparse interiors with lots of white and sudden bursts of bright colors. Like these:
So that's where I was headed. Big. Bright color. And shiny. I'll show you my results in the next post. Hint: Results are mixed. Use only as directed. May cause grimacing and wincing or smiling and nodding.
We're working on a giant-ass project upstairs in our Row House. We call it the Insulation/Plumbing/New Bathroom project. The project is proceeding like the song about the old woman who swallowed a fly:
She swallowed a dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don't know why she opened up the damn wall between the bathroom and study.
Perhaps she'll die.
For the 'Insulation' portion of the project, we demolished the upstairs study ceiling (more on this later) to prepare for insulation installation (ooooh! alliteration!). Post demo, we took a good long look at the room and determined the closet needed to go. It was one of those Victorian era closets designed in the era before women could vote AGAINST TERRIBLE CLOSET DESIGN.
Like a lot of century-old closets, the space is TOTALLY USELESS for modern use. Tiny door +wide space=Chronicles of Narnia type wardrobe - but with echos to the side instead of to the back. So. Yes. We reduced our storage space. On purpose.
If I spent one-half of one percent of the the time I spend reading other blogs, say....removing wallpaper, I'd have a lot more home improvement posts. But my favorite blogs come first. And in case you don't know of them, here are just a few of my favorites. Click their logos to visit their sites.
The Vintage Cabin is a thrifting goddess, a sophisticated user of swear words, and she has more taste in her pinky toe than I have from the waist down.
Russet Street Reno has a swoon worthy master bedroom renovation. Also? Her home has a WOMAN CAVE. Look into it, people.
The Brick House won't answer my calls or text messages. I am not stalking her.
What can I POSSIBLY say about this woman that hasn't been said before? She is building a house. SHE. IS. BUILDING. A. HOUSE. And her miniature donkeys make me cry.