A Peek Indoors

Today, I want to share some snapshots of our living room, one of the few "finished" rooms in our changing house. I suppose you could call my style "eclectic," as in it consists of  patterns, colors, artwork, and items I love. Typically, the things I pull together aren't exactly in style or even very contemporary. Instead, my decor approach consists of a mismatch of curated "I love this" items.

While I rove Pinterest as much as anyone, I tend to gallivant in my own direction when it comes to putting decor together.  For example, our chocolate brown walls. A professional designer would probably croak--especially since our home is so small. Isn't that a rule of thumb? Never go dark and crazy on the walls in a tiny space?

 But you know what? Who cares! I love our chocolate brown walls. I realize that I'll need to change them in order to appeal to buyers if we ever decide to move, but, for now, Mark and I both love the color and plan to keep it around for awhile. And I'm a firm believer that your space should always reflect your personality.

Do you like vivid colors on the walls? Do you tend to go bold or stick with neutrals? Why or why not? I'd love to know! As you can see, I'm a huge fan of jewel tones. 

Dill House Diary: Rail Works

When we purchased it last July, our house had one original closet. It was built over our stairs and had the cutest little door with the cutest little key hole. I envisioned stocking it with Mark's camping and hiking gear. Unfortunately, Mark's father, a carpenter and remodel-er, pointed out that the closet, combined with the narrowness of our staircase, would prevent us from getting any furniture up the stairs. At first, I panicked, thinking--Oh my Lord, I'm not going to have any furniture upstairs at my house! Then, I was sad to lose the cute little door with its cute little keyhole. But sometimes, things have to be done, whether we like it or not.

So, we removed the closet, an act which in turn required us to remove our stair rail. Dumb new-home-owners that we were, we thought "Oh, we'll just put that rail back." Think again. Once we removed the closet, the rail--which had run into the side of the closet--no longer fit. Who knew how expensive replacing a rail could turn out to be? Well, as it turns out--it can be quite costly. And this on top off all the other renovations we had planned. But this scenario, ladies and gentlemen, exemplifies the reality of living in a reno. Renovation work is thing after another, with several surprises along the way.

All that aside, Mark and I (mostly Mark) set out this past weekend to erect a new stair rail. If you have never undertaken this task....you cannot imagine the pain in the booty that it can be. Mark and I nearly lost our religion, ended our marriage, and left town over this rail. If Hell has torture rooms, eternally building a stair rail has to be one of them. Also, I'm fairly certain that I turned into a frizzy-haired, mascara-streaked banshee--a monster that probably made my husband and puppy consider moving.

All that aside.... we gritted our teeth, managed to laugh past our exasperation, and prevailed. This project was certainly a testament to the saying "if at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try, and then try again." It was also a testament to my husband's problem solving skills.

To give you an idea of what we started with:

Blah. Ugly laminate floors. Off-white walls. Itty-bitty floating closet. It had to go.

We bought our railing and newel post at Lowes.  Before installation, we stained the pieces with a Dark Walnut stain, also bought at Lowes. The wrought iron balusters we got for a steal via Craigslist. A piece of advice: if you're remodeling, consider Craigslist as an option for materials, especially if you're working with a small space.

Staining was my main (only) contribution. From there, my abilities ended, and I became the gopher. This seems to be how our remodeling adventure works: I paint/stain and Mark does everything else. Although I have become quite handy with the screw gun and finish nailer. Oh yes. You better watch out.

Anyway...

Attempt number one to install the balusters. 

Let's just say it ended with me getting bonked on the head and collarbone with wrought iron sticks as they fell out of place. We quickly realized that this method was not going to work. (Incidentally, this is also the part where I turned into the mascara-streaked banshee.) Thankfully, saner heads (Mark's) prevailed. 

Some problem solving skills born from years working with his dad and in the form of Liquid Nails came to our rescue. We had a "duh!" moment and decided to build the rail and then attach it to the wall. Noted, this method probably would not work on a long stretch of railing, but it worked for our little section. 

Once the liquid nails had set, we were able to slowly and oh-so-carefully re-position and reattach it to the wall and floor. Mark screwed the newel post and base back into place, then tightened those-other-thingys. (Sorry to any male readers out there. My hardware and carpentry vocabulary has its limits.)

And, viola! Our lovely new railing! I love how the large tree photo seems to be shining heavenly beams upon Mark's handiwork. It adds to the "Ahhhhh" effect.

Also, yes, we realize that the handrail is still the original stain color. We plan to remove and replace it with something similar to this rope rail.

What do ya'll think? Personally, I'm relieved to have this project out of the way! On to better things!

P.S. Don't you love Mark's neon shoes? They remind me of Surge.
Wait...did I just date myself?

Making Us Happy

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making us happy this week:

• The beautiful blooms around Frederick. For me, its an eternal debate: Which do you like better, spring or fall?
• German-Greek crossover food. You can order a bratwurst with tzatziki sauce--who doesn't enjoy that combo?
• Sleepy cuddly pups, who like to bang their tails against every loud surface before snoozing on my feet.
• Our new chandelier in the dining room. Doesn't it remind you of a bird cage?
• Little mini blueberry bushes, trying to grow. Here's hoping it survives puppy-antics. 

A Day for Moms

Happy Mother's Day to all the women who are moms, are soon-to-be moms, or wish to be moms. Most especially, thank you to the moms in my life. My sister, whom I've watched turn into the sweetest, most-patient mother of two bouncy boys. My grandmother, whose spunky spirit always cheers us up. My mother-in-law, who has kindly welcomed me into her family of boys. And my own sweet mother, the most quintessential Southern lady I know.

Happy Mother's Day, everyone!

Own Affordable & Original Artwork

Here's a sampling of artwork available at my Etsy shop Patina & Purl One-of-a-kind, original acrylic and oil paintings, at an affordable price!

I work with acrylic and oil and always prime my canvas, to ensure quality that will last for many years. If you would like a finished piece, check out my shop link. If you're interested in a custom piece, contact me through my Etsy or leave a note in the comments below!

A Rebel Read

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize, Tony Horowitz's Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil War explores the continuing legacy of the Civil War in the American South. A sometimes touching, sometimes scary, sometimes downright hilarious travelogue, the book traces the path of the war, beginning in South Carolina and marching up to Maryland and Pennsylvania. Horowitz attempts to decipher not only what the Confederate legacy means to the South but also what "Southerness" means. Why does "the South" insist upon flying rebel flags and hoisting monuments to dead generals? Can a line be drawn between racism and honoring the dead? Is "states rights" just a way to disguise the war motivation of slavery? Or, was the real conflict industry and imperialism versus agrarianism?

Some interesting tidbits from the book:

• The black-and-white Civil War photographs I'd studied as a child had blurred together, forming a Rorschach blot in which Americans now saw all sorts of unresolved strife: over race, sovereignty, the sanctity of historic landscapes, and who should interpret the past.
• I recognized the appeal of dwelling on the South's past rather than its present. Stepping from my room into the motel parking lot, I gazed out at a low-slung horseshoe of ferroconcrete called Towne Mall, a metal-and-cement forest of humming electricity pylons, a Kmart, a garish yellow Waffle House, a pink-striped Dunkin' Donuts, plus Taco Bell, Bojangles, Burger King, the Golden Arches of McDonald's, and the equally gaudy signs for Exxon, BP, and Shell hoisted like battle flags above a melee of competing brands. I wondered sleepily what Confederate General Albert Johnston would make of the view from the Econo Lodge. 
• I began to hear echoes of defeated peoples I'd encountered overseas: Kurds, Armenians, Palestinians, Catholics in Northern Ireland. Like them, Southerners had kept fighting their war by other means. 
• Perhaps the North and South went to war because they represented two distinct and irreconcilable cultures, right down to their bloodlines. While most Southerners descended from fierce, freedom-loving Celts in Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. Northerners--New England in particular--came from mercantile and expansionist English stock. This ethnography could even explain how the War was fought. Like their brace and heedless forebears, Southerners hurled themselves in frontal assaults on the enemy. The North, meanwhile, deployed its industrial might and numerical superiority to grind down the South with Cromwellian efficiency. Viewed through this prism, the "War of Northern Aggression" was not just about slavery. Rather, it was a culture war in which Yankees imposed their imperialist and capitalistic will on the agrarian South, just as the English had done to the Irish and Scots--and as America did to the Indians and the Mexicans in the name of Manifest Destiny. The North's triumph condemned the national to a centralized, industrial society and all the ills that come with it. 
• Huff pulled a book from his shelf and read me a poem called "The Conquered Banner," composed by a Confederate chaplain after the Civil War. "Furl that Banner, for tis weary;/ Round its staff its drooping dreary;/ Furl it, fold it, it is best;/ For there's not a man to wave it,/And there's not a sword to save it,/And there's not one left to lave it/ In the blood which heroes gave it;/ And its foes now scorn and brave it;/ Furl it, hide it--let it rest." Huff closed the book. "It's too bad nobody reads that poem anymore," he said. 

I'm only about half-way through, but I haven't been this engrossed in a book in a long time. I'll post again, with more thoughts and quotes, I'm sure!

What are your thoughts on the Civil War and the "South"?

Dill House Diary: Curb Appeal

As Amp and I work on renovating our home, we will be sharing tidbits of the renovation process along the way. When we bought her, our house was a hodge-podge of low-budget style and diced-up floor-plan. The only rooms possessing any original character were the living and dining rooms , which have beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, 9 inch baseboards, and original hardwoods. The rest of the house had patchwork linoleum floors, an abundance of crooked cabinetry, and cat hair everywhere.

And the cosmetic nightmare wasn't reserved to the interior but spilled out onto the exterior. The previous owners--despite the fact that our home is smack in the middle of a brick row--had put vinyl siding onto the home, completely concealing the painted brick. One thing I love about downtown Frederick is the rainbow array of Victorian paint colors on the row homes. Our house should have been part of that colorful picture--instead we were a drab eye-sore, the color of old biscuit gravy. Not terrible, just not appealing and definitely out of keeping with the home's time period and the rest of the neighborhood.   The picture below was taken in the fall but gives you an idea of what the house looked like. (On a side note, check out our beautiful stone flower bed. Our neighbor made that for us for just $100! It now matches his flowerbed! I love it!)

So wonky cabinets, weird walls, and ugly linoleum aside, our first order of  business was the vinyl siding. We wanted to reclaim some curb appeal and revive the downtown-ness of the home.

Do you now how hard it is to pull off vinyl siding? My poor husband undertook that mammoth task all by himself. Below, I dodged falling metal and nails, cleaning up the mess peppering the sidewalk. For the most part, the several-day effort went smoothly, except for one horrible moment when Mark's crowbar efforts knocked his glasses off. My legally blind husband was atop a ladder--blind. Thank the Good Lord his glasses didn't break, and he was able to feel his way down the ladder to reclaim them. Ugh. Gut-wrenching moments aside, the vinyl came off to reveal the brick, in good condition and painted minty green. Having neighbors stop by--some even from a few streets down--to complete our work and thank us for removing the vinyl was pretty encouraging and awesome, I have to say. Apparently, we weren't the only ones who thought the house was an eye-sore.

Yanking off the siding revealed some beautiful architectural details, previously concealed. We found the original dental molding, some lovely brick arches, and a spot for a transom above the front door. Why the previous owners wanted to hide all these details, we truly do not know. I guess, for some, convenience and easy maintenance is more important than beauty.

Once the vinyl was removed, we selected our brick paint colors: dove grey with black trim.  Back up the ladders we went, this time with paint brushes and rollers in hand. The end result was pretty fantastic, allowing us to accent the brick work and original architectural details.

While we were at it, we replaced the outdoor light fixture, added a stained glass transom, and repainted our mailbox. We had the transom custom-made through this glass shop based out of Baltimore. I was tired of looking at our wonky mail box, complete with its crooked, off-center address number. A few coats of metallic grey spray painter later and with the addition of some bright stick-on numbers, we had a good-as-new mailbox!

Needless to say, I'm glad all this exterior work is behind us now.
What's a big renovation project you have tackled ?