home improvement

I'm home now, safe and sound and prepared for any weather now (1 inch of snow today, which had me scoffing, "Heh. I've seen worse! These people drive like pansies!" How quickly one turns to condescension.). A survived our 12 hour drive like a champ, I was thrilled to see D again after one of our longest absences, and I came home to beautiful progress on our house. D spent his time alone working, at his job first and then on many projects for hours at night, getting little sleep in the process. After a weekend of more work, we have a new toilet and sink in the first floor bathroom, the walls painted in the kitchen and hall, new curtains for the kitchen, new hardware for the drawers and cabinets, new lights in all the halls and kitchen...and more. It's fantastic. 

We've lived here for 8 years, easy to count since we bought the house during the never-ending election. I sprained my ankle at school (clumsy dork) and hobbled the walk-through with the owner of the house, who was very defensive about bits of the house that needed fixing. I'd be defensive too, if people were criticizing my half-ass constructions that could be more fittingly described, "Stuff To Do With Scrap 2x4's and Giant Nails." Like keeping the windows from falling open. Or creating a staircase addition that would make one more likely to break one's neck, than just leaving a two-foot drop to a more stable platform. I know I am a perfectionist, so my standards of craftsmanship are considerably high, unreasonably high. But...many of these Yankee Ingenuity jobs we've found over the years are shameful to see. I would have been lying awake at night thinking about the sledgehammered hole where the sink pipes come out in our first floor bathroom, or the fact that the top of the door frames weren't painted at all (because, obviously, no one can see it), or that a crack in the ceiling was masked over by wallpaper and paint. At least they had the courtesy to hire someone to apply the hideous wallpaper, which made its removal that much easier. If they had done it themselves, there would be glops of goo, seams that didn't match, and probably a few nails to hold it on till it dried. 

All of those things have now been dealt with by my wonderful husband, including great color choices for each room. It really helps to live with another artist. I can trust that he will not get a lame color, and will be even more critical of his work than the wife who just gawks and gasps at each little OCD detail. 

Pictures will follow!