One of the advantages of not actually living at the house, while it’s being “made over” is that when someone comes to do something marvelous–like lay brand, NEW carpet–I get to hang out in the kitchen and snap pictures every chance I get.
It was all I could do not to giggle when the carpet guy brought the new–NOT-falling apart into dust–padding in. He had no idea what pad trauma we’d been through. Sheesh.
Ooooh, here it comes. Lovely-ness approaching.
I’ve always wondered how carpet guys cut those huge pieces to fit so perfectly. But the more I thought about it, the more I worried, so I quit watching.
As he pulled back the front room carpet to finish off the entry edge–we discovered that there is pretty little hardwood under that carpet. Oh, yeah. YOUR days are numbered too, funny blue carpet. Heh, heh, heh.
But for now, I’m gonna scrunch up my toes in this soft, fluffy, perfect, new stuff.
I’m a lucky duck.
PS~ Thank you with all my heart to all those who made this post possible. I love you.
Ahhh…bless you Pinterest, for sparking my imagination, when sincerely–I was happy with the brown paneling.
Ok, well, happy isn’t completely, one hundred percent honest.
I don’t mind admitting that I am just so thrilled to be in the place where I have some kind of house–at all–that it doesn’t really matter to me if it isn’t entirely perfect. I’m grateful and happy to make do.
But after spending a bit of time seeing the “Dark Paneling Makeovers” that are on the internet everywhere these days, I will admit–a few coats of white paint wins. Hands down.
It has taken a bit of doing though. Primer, more primer, and then several coats of paint. It will indeed be perfect when we’re finished.
And going from this…
to this–as unfinished as it is…
is a huge improvement. Wouldn’t you say?
I’m deeply grateful to my kind and generous worker bees who seem to have so much happy energy.
Thank you. Thank you.
It’s going to be awesome!
I want to show you the front yard first. That seems appropriate–don’t you think? This is the yard leading up to my very own front porch. Now this house is a charming 81 years old and while that might just strike terror in the faint-hearted, it makes me happy beyond belief. Old awnings and handrails, rock gardens and Juniper trees. It reminds me of visiting my grandma’s house when I was itty bitty. Since I grew up in a nasty part of Los Angeles it was really the only time that we kids got to play on green grass and climb real trees. It was glorious, I tell you and the memories are thick and delicious in my mind, still.
But back to this house…
Trees and flowers everywhere which have gone wild without a care taker for months now. The Bishop’s Weed is going berserk and schooching over onto the lawn–naughty stuff. Oh, and pardon the foggy parts to my photos–my lens was steamy for some reason. Probably from my constant Ooooh-ing and Ahhhh-ing while snapping pictures.
And what you can’t see, is that under all that bushy-ness are about 675 massive rocks…boulders, really, that will have to be dealt with, at some point. As long as they stay hidden amongst growth then they can stay…perhaps.
Miss Chompy said, “Grammy, you have your very own forest!!” For now, my dear. I’m not sure how I feel about so many trees that it’s impossible to see the front of the house. It could use a bit of pinching back, I’m thinking. But we’ll leave it until we get the inside sorted out and then focus on the outside.
And this is from the front porch, looking onto the driveway. I promised the mail lady that we’d behave and put a mailbox out on the road like everyone else…someday soon. She said, “Oh, we would all just love you for that.”
And here’s the porch it’s self. Lots of changes coming to this place–because, well, because I’ve been on Pinterest too much and so of course, I know exactly what to do to make the slab steps and green rock (green rock? seriously?) facade straighten right up and fly right. Or at least not be…you know…ugly.
You’ll be amazed…I promise. Pretty excited at the potential for beautiful things coming this way.
Stick with me. I’ll show you.
100 Happy Days #50
Yesterday I lost my debit card.
It was one of those times when it should be in my wallet but it wasn’t. I’m actually very, VERY good at keeping my keys where they belong, my wallet and purse where they belong and my id and credit cards where they belong. So, I looked through my car and the house and the driveway and dumped my purse out about 50 times. All of it over and over…but no luck.
I worried and whined and fussed but the bald kid said, “It’s all good mom. It’ll turn up. What’s the worst that can happen?” I wondered if he truly understood the worst that can happen but I figured that was a discussion for a later time. I wanted to holler, “But I’ve lost my DEBIT CARD, son!! But even if I regaled him with stories of possible financial turmoil and ruin, I had this funny feeling he would still just smile and say, “It’s all good mom.” I know, I know. Peace. Love. Rock & Roll. In case any of you thought that Bob Marley was dead–well, he’s back and in possession of my youngest son.
But on with my story. This morning after looking everywhere I had already looked for the millionth time, Lyndi said, “Call the gas station. That’s where you used it last. Call them.”
I didn’t want to call them because I just didn’t want it to be THAT lost. I wanted it to be in my car, under the seat or something. But it wasn’t.
So I looked up the number and called them. I told the nice man that answered my sad tale, and asked, “By any chance did anyone turn in a debit card?” and this guy said, “Why, yes miss, they did.” Calmly as you please. And it was mine.
When I went in to pick it up I told him, “I’m just so happy to be living here in this sweet town, where someone would turn in a debit card without thinking twice.” The man said, “Yeah, lots of places they’d have had a shopping spree. But, you know, there are still good people around. Have a good day.”
Believe me, I will.
Peace. Love. Rock & Roll.
PS~ Yeah, I know…time for a new wallet.