More Room Improvement

My room still isn’t totally done. The major destruction and reconstruction is done, yes, but there remain little things (like trim, curtains, new blinds, outlet covers, etc) to be done. Truth be told, I’m not in any kind of hurry for my room to be completely done. Once it is done, I am out of excuses to browse the decor section in stores.

This weekend I crossed one little thing off the list: lighting/wall decoration.

As you can see in the second picture, they are above my bed; and before anyone freaks out, the candles (candle at this point) shall not be lit unless I am in the room.

I was thinking about getting two more to put above my writing nook as well.

 

My Writing Nook

My writing supplies are extremely varied: a post-it note, the back of an old church bullitin, school paper, composition notebook, my precious Paperblanks. And I have trouble staying organized. As a result, my writing spot neither stays in that spot, nor is it boring to look at when it is all in one spot.

So, in an effort to consolidate and organize–Behold my Writing Nook!

And it didn’t cost me a cent! The wood board used to be part of a dining table, the milk crates came from Mom’s room (casualties of this year’s de-cluttering) and that really pretty bit of fabric came from my scrap pile.

 

The Wardrobe

I now have a wardrobe to replace the closet I so gleefully took down. One of my neighbors bought it at a flea market or something, decided they didn’t want it and traded it to me for babysitting “credits”. Pretty cool!

My Wardrobe

I doubt anyone going into it will find anything other than a very tight space.

That’s me in the reflection, by the way.

 

House on the Rock, House on the Sand

Last Sunday I taught an impromptu children’s Sunday School: impromptu meaning absolutely no warning that there were going to be children at church at all until they showed up. It was rather interesting, actually. It was a brother and a sister, both of whom I had seen before but neither of whom I had actually had a chance to talk to.

After much searching by all three of us, we managed to locate a lesson from the current Sunday School book (Jesus’ parable about the wise man building his house on a rock and the foolish man building his on the sand). We took turns reading the Bible verses and then I told them we were going to do something different. We were going to see what the difference was between a house built on a rock and a house built on sand. What I didn’t tell them was that I was making this up as I went along!

So, here is my own lesson plan for Matthew 7:24-29.

For each person there:

1. A Bible
2. A paper plate (from the kitchen)
3. A styrofoam cup (kitchen)
4. A large flat rock (gathered from the church driveway)
5. Large handful of sand or dirt (also from the driveway)
6. Pitcher of water
7. Youthful lungs and excitement over being encouraged to make a mess

The rock and sand went on the plate. We cut out houses (brightly and wildly colored) and stands from the cups. I suppose it would have been easier to have made the house from another plate, but such a thing only occured to me in hindsight.

Next we went outside to simulate a storm, much to the rising enthusiasm of the kids. The sand quickly turned to mud and sunk the house, but I’m afraid that the House on the Rock did not quite line up with the lesson: when the winds came, the rock stood firm but the house went flying. 

All involved had a good time and those people on their way into church got some free entertainment.

 

Stain, Finish and Moving In

Saturday, MA helped me–or I guess I should say I helped him–stain my floor. I know I originally wanted a white-wash stain, but they didn’t have it at the little local hardware store. It was either buy a natural stain or wait until I could go to all the way down to Lowe’s. I got the natural and, in hindsight, I am so glad I did! It’s not what I wanted, but it is absolutely perfect.

After the stain and finish dried, I moved back into my room. I have to say, having all my stuff back in the same four walls is really nice. Everyone else sharing this house thinks so too.

My room isn’t quite finished. I still have to build a semi-loft bed, get a door, put up trim, build a corner desk, buy an armoire (or something that could fulfil the same function), buy a big comfy chair and get curtains; hopefully somewhat in that order.

Here’s a whole gaggle of pictures:

By the way, those boxes are going to be stored under the semi-loft bed. The corner which they now occupy is going to be to Writer’s Nook corner. But that’s another day, another post and another paycheck.

The wall is not that headboard’s final resting place. I was just afraid I’d go to my own final resting place if I tried to prop it in place before the bed is built.

That is the mirror from Friday’s Shopping. I paired it up with my 1909 Singer Sewing machine to be vanity…until the sewing bug bites.

P.S.

To Whom It May Concern:

Pine one-by-fours, stained with a natural stain and given only one coat of satin polyurethane is still tremendously slick. This I know from seeing Mom’s arms and legs considerably higher than the rest of her, and her lowest point being about a foot above the floor. The flight was memorable. So was the landing, albeit for different reasons.

 

Flooring

The genius did set in. Here’s what it looks like:

This coming Saturday Dad and I are securing it to the sub-floor, and this week I’ll be busy sanding and (hopefully) staining it. After the floor is completely done, we can gather my furniture from the various corners of the house and put them where they belong–in my room!

 

You Are My Sunshine

My Room: Part 4

Painting was on my mind yesterday. Naturally, it was on everybody else’s by mid-morning…and it was on my walls by mid-afternoon!

Once home with my paint, I changed into dingy old clothes, pulled my hair back and got painting. I proved to be rather adept at it…all those years of helping Mom, I guess. Since I didn’t prime the drywall first, it just soaked up the paint. So did the ceiling, the floor and my shirt. I said I was adept at painting–not tidy.

So, two more coats and I’m on to the flooring!

I said before that I wanted my room to be a bright, sunny yellow. Well, it certainly is!

In case anyone is wondering, the color is Porter Paint’s Lazy Daizy, color code: 112-4

 

Dust Everywhere, Mud Where It Belongs

My Room: Part 3

“Drywall is easy. It’s the taping and mudding that’s the hard part.”

This was the warning I heard from many a source. And sure enough, they were right. Taping and mudding is an involved process that requires concentration and a considerable amount of elbow grease.

It’s also very dusty. There was dust to spare: even after coating me, the floor, the walls, my mattress, the hall way floor, the erstwhile pantry (now a temporary home to my stuff) and everything in it. Despite the elbow grease and dust, and probably because of the sticky goo the mud was before drying, I thoroughly enjoyed this step in the reconstruction of my room. Also, I proved to be rather good at it.

 

Honesty Is The Best Policy

So they say. And so, for the sake of honesty, I will freely admit that I was not entirely sure that either Dad or I would live to see the last piece of drywall hung. Nor can I blame the drywall. No, Dad and I being so very much alike and yet so very different has to take all the blame; that or two short tempers.

Despite all that, the drywall was hung in two weeks, most of the work taking place on the two Saturdays.

Pictures (once again borrowed from Mom’s blog): Here and here.

I’d get my own camera, but currently all my money is being spent on my room.

 

DEconSTRUCTION

My Room: Part 2

When I was little and we first moved into our house, Mom decorated my room in an ocean theme: light blue walls, blue curtains and the cutest fish border that was at waist-height. Well, it used to be at head-height, but it sort of shrank as I got older. It was a perfect room for the little girl known as me; combining my favorite color with my favorite element.

When I was 14, I decided that I wanted something different, more grown-up. The fish border was the first thing to be removed. Mom had read on-line that if you put a hot iron to wall paper, it would come off but leave the drywall intact. I’ll never forget her face when it did no such thing. To hide the gaping inner drywall, we put up paneling. So my room went from blue ocean themed to white walls, tan faux wood paneling and grayish-tan/coffee-with-a-lot-of-cream colored chair railing.  The pink carpet (which, by the way came with the house and covered all the floors but the bathroom and kitchen) was also removed and faux wood vinyl tiles put in it’s place. It was a nice room.

When I was 18 almost 19, I decided that I wanted my room to be a little more “me” than it was. A French Country style with bright yellow walls, white trim with splashes of pastel blue, white washed wood floor–perfect for the young woman known as me; combining style with quirkiness. There was, however, a slight problem: I didn’t want paneling in this “new” room. So…

Off with the drywall!! 

Pictures can be seen here, here and here. Oh, and that’s me in the first picture.

 

A Very Lengthy Post About The State Of My Room

Part 1 of probably many other posts on the same subject. 

As you might recall, I said before that I was doing a complete overhauling and redoing of my bedroom. Well, the actual doing of said undertaking is mostly what has kept my from the blogosphere.

I really should have taken a “before” picture, but alas, such things only occur to me after it is to late to carry them out; much like Sir Percy Blakeney’s carriage wit (carriage wit being: “The clever remark one thinks of when one has left the party and is driving home.”). So, I shall just have to paint one with my words.

My room is 12 feet, 5 inches by 11 feet, 8 inches. It has an 8 foot by 32 inch closet on one wall and a 5 foot by 5 1/2 foot double window on another. Now, into this space was crammed:

1. A double size bed
2. An old steamer trunk which served for a Hope Chest
3. A chest of drawers
4. A bookshelf
5. A 1909 Singer Sewing Machine, bought with my Graduation money.
6. A small bench that also housed–in theory–my shoes, purse and other bags
7. A Toy chest crammed full of my old toys
8. A doll wardrobe which served for a nightstand
9. A small wooden trunk, a wicker bin, several baskets and plastic bags full of sewing supplies, material (scrap or otherwise) and yarn balls
10. A quilt stand
11. A large army of wooden boxes (a particular weakness of mine) filled with what I call nick-knacks and others “crip-crap”
12. An entire closet of odds and ends of various sizes, shapes and colors
13. Papers, notebooks, pens, sticky notes, and other writing supplies which defied housing
14. Stray beads from that phase of my childhood

Yes, I’m a hopeless, sentimental pack rat. Clearly, something had to give, and as my parents had requested that it not be the walls, I set to work.

The first thing I did was to gather those possessions of mine which make the floor their home and stacked them in a corner. Then my Hope Chest was opened and it’s contents sorted through. I made a Goodwill pile of everything I didn’t think I’d honestly use. Everything I decided to keep was neatly placed back in the chest. Then I repeated the procedure thrice more for good measure and brutal honesty.  The Hope Chest, previously overflowing, now stood two thirds empty. I exchanged the huge trunk (which was literally falling apart at the edges) for a smaller wooden chest which Mom was only too happy to get out of the Living room and a Rubbermaid tote which was half filled with completed afghans and quilts.

Into this Rubbermaid tote I began stuffing quilt batting, quilts that are still in the process of being pieced together, half a bolt of muslin and winter blankets from the closet. It was a tight fit, and I had to dance… er, jump…on the lid, but where there’s a will, there’s a way and I had lots of will.

The closet, chest of drawers, bench, floor residents and the boxes were next and they took the better part of two weeks of sorting and re-sorting. Eventually, the Goodwill pile included 10 large bags of clothing, shoes (which, despite my aversion to foot wear, I seem to attract), and just general stuff. Hardest of all was parting with two of my wooden boxes. However, both were removed from the Goodwill stack and given a new home by Mom. The chest of drawers actually shut. The only nick-knacks I kept were those that fit neatly inside the remaining boxes. Most of the boxes in turn are being stored in a cardboard box. My closet odds and ends are reduced to those that fit in a Rubbermaid tote and the wicker bin that used to hold sewing stuff. My scrap material stash was divided between the small wooden trunk and the garbage can. Yarn was collected from various baskets and bags to be consolidated into, of all things, a freezer bag. 

I have to confess that after such a thorough disection of every other part of my room, I didn’t even touch my writing supplies. After all, a good writer never throws away anything, whether or not it stays in it’s assigned place of storage.

Oh, and I am pleased to report that I have swept up every last bead I could find. Mom used to hate those things and now I’m beginning to see why.