This old house has seen a bunch of upgrades–some easy, some not. A corner here, a room there. Slowly it inched forward from 1969.
The poor kitchen started off with a look that only a DIYer could appreciate. We got new cabinets, and I was happy for awhile. But then I decided that the new cabinets were boring and needed to some spice.
Insert insane cackle, since that project isn’t ahem done. Though all I have left (other than decorative touches) are the faux built-in from target bookshelves and leftover scraps hack. I plan for it to look something like:
And I did manage to get the other set of shelves hung in the coat closet last weekend. But then I had to shove all of the misplaced stuff back in there (we needed to eat dinner). I refuse to let JB hang the door back up, because out-of-sight…
So instead I’m embracing my eclectic decorating style and making a pop-art statement about the Overload of Stuff in America–
Wait. That’s IT. I’ll just label my clutter as being an ode to Warhol and suddenly it’s a statement.
And why this montage of projects of Months Past? Because I was down in the basement– doing, yeah, laundry…
…when I started fantasizing about my perfect life. One where my hair stayed stick straight despite the humidity and I had an extra 1200 square feet of space.
Wait– I do have an extra 1200 square feet of space, but it’s not pleasant– and sometimes the dark corners are kinda scary.
If only the basement were done, everything else would be perfect. Cue my Rainbow farting unicorn, please.
Hey– who needs some baby stuff? Cloth diapers? Anyone? Bueller?
Can you see it with me?
Buh-bye to clown-vomit epoxy floor,
and also to the 1970s vintage accordion door.
No to wainscoting in shades of dark brown,
Acoustic ceiling tile? You’re first to go down.
Hello to a softly carpeted place;
to new walls creating happy-family space.
Oh– and bad poetry aside– I’m totally building this system for storage.
Trying… but Just. Can’t. Stop. Myself.
To eliminate all of the closet over-pourage.
But before I can even think about the satisfaction of ripping out every spec of acoustic ceiling tile, I first have to finish the built-ins. And the closet. But you can watch me drool over ideas on pinterest.
Perhaps I should have FINISH IT tattooed on my forehead?