After all of the real-estate drama that this past year has brought to us, we finally have the house!
It’s been quite the journey: first our house didn’t sell, then we renovated over Christmas (not always the best idea, friends), then we sold in a heartbeat… only to find a house we loved, with an extreeeemely long closing date.
We are still living with my extremely generous and patient sister-and-brother-in-law. Their basement is our crash pad. We have filled every nook and cranny with our stuff. I’d show you pictures, but I know that the internet lives forever.
I don’t want that kind of incriminating evidence to have a permanent home anywhere.
And now we have the house. We have keys, a front door, and lot of projects.
This is the evidence of one of those projects. And it’s my handiwork.
You can tell this is my worksite by the disaster surrounding this orange bucket. The way I demolish is one part chaos, one part swear words.
I am a big fan of this crow bar after this past week. He and I have done a lot of taking-apart-of-things.
And it’s left me in that weird post-demolition haze where I am constantly asking myself, “What have I done!?!? And can this be put back together?”
Tell me that you have had those thoughts too, guys. Tell me that you’ve ripped something off the wall or up from the subfloor and you’ve instantly had the wave of, “What am I DOING!!??!”
There are so many projects to showcase for you guys, but I want to take my time. I want to really get my feet planted and my ideas sorted before I start showing off every room in the house.
But first, I have to show you this:
This is Lila’s room-to-be. It has a beach mural on every single wall.
Lila loves it. She calls it “paradise”. Grandpa Golfer is trying to convince me to let her keep it.
But I have other plans.
Of course I do.
And I don’t want to be cold about it. I appreciate every brushstroke that went into the mural. I have been sanding them down… and each line of paint was very serious about its job. The once-little-girl who lived in this room probably adored her walls.
But that little girl grew up and doesn’t live here any more.
So we have to say goodbye to the palm trees and the sandy beaches. If I can ever sand them off.
It’s exciting and terrifying, this renovating thing. Our last house was a series of small renovations; oftentimes, the jobs were put together with bubblegum and shoestring. This time, we’re taking off a big chunk. We want to make some large and meaningful changes, and that means sucking up your courage and just tearing apart fireplaces and ripping up carpets.
It’s all very exciting and terrifying and…. real.
I love me a good renovation. But I won’t lie. There are so many times where I want to put my hand to my head in a Hayley Mills pose and sigh.
11 comments
Shauna
How exciting! Can’t wait to follow your renovation journey. Why won’t you let her keep that mural? (LOL)
Sophia
My great-grandfather was a painter, he designed bags and paintings which were made later with petit point. They are wonderful. He had an apartment and he painted the whole living room with scenes from his favourite opera, stroke by stroke. When he died, the next tenant painted the whole walls white and destroyed everything.
So, let your daughter keep the mural. If she likes it, it’s good, it’s her room.
Greetings, Sophia
Kirsten
So excited for you, and can’t wait to follow along on your journey! I agree with you about the beach scene, though, but here’s a thought. What if you take a good picture of one wall then mat & frame that bad boy and let her keep THAT in her room? I saw someone do that when they had cars and trucks painted on their son’s wall, then decided to repaint. π Good luck! (Drink lots of wine. Totally helps.)
Tara
I love that idea, Kirsten. I’ll have to take a picture and save it for Lila. She seems pretty excited about my idea for her room, too, but every once in a while she’ll say, “Let’s just leave it.”
I feel like if I’m going to sand the whole room down, I should do it when the house is already a disaster. I couldn’t ever imagine doing it with furniture in the room. π
Danni@SiloHillFarm
Tara. I’m so happy for you! I also feel your renovation excitement and reserve! I hope you’re as happy with the end results as I am with mine! You go girl.
Tara
Thank you, Danni. It’s definitely a bittersweet process: ripping out drywall and tile only to realize that it’s got to be put back together. I’m heading over to your blog right this second to see your “after” – I”m so glad that you love it!
Kadie
I feel like we are in the same point in our renovation! The great-I-just-ripped-all-the-carpet-out-can-I-really-lay-a-lovely-floor-to-replace-it point, it’s not like you can just decide not to finish ya know. I know your’s is going to look lovely {sandy walls and all} I can’t wait to see the progress! π
Tara
That’s too true, Kadie. It’s the realization that you HAVE to put it back. You can’t just leave it the way it is. Progress is being made, slowly but surely. I’m an instant gratification girl, so this is testing my patience already! π
Krista @ the happy housie
Oh my that room is AWE-SOME. If that is a sample I can’t wait to see more. Good luck with the process…
Tara
I know… it’s pretty fabulous. It’s like Mexico all. of. the. time.
π
Kenz @ Interiors By Kenz
Yay house! I’m so happy you’re in! I’m so excited to see what you do π