Anyway, now that Beth has put that collective bug in our collective ears (sorry, Autumn); now that we've freely admitted there are imperfections, if not in our lives, at least in our homes, what are you gonna doing about it, kids? Are you going to fix that bathroom cabinet and that kitchen counter? Are you going to paint those steps? And if not, if you hum "La la la la la I don't see you..." every time you walk into the bathroom or kitchen or down the front steps, do you have other spring projects lined up instead?
Look what I bought yesterday:
You couldn't see the code on the old can of paint anymore, so Mr. Home Depot Expert Paint Man sliced a little piece of the paint-coated paper, scanned it, and matched it in a brand spanking new can of shiny green paint.
Those stairs don't stand a chance.
Ellie, it is so very funny that you posed this question, because once I showed that crooked, hanging door to the world, my husband took action, straight away, and you should just see it now.
First I got this email:
I’m …. playing w the cabinets. They were milled wrong. How about a curtain instead of the doors? It could look very cool.
My very diplomatic reply?
Yep. I’m going with it, if we’re going to be the Clampetts, let’s go all out! I’m thinking maybe a nice print like Granny’s or a cool plaid like Elly May’s. The possibilities are endless...
And maybe, just maybe, we should think about renaming this blog Me and Elly and Ellie.
What am I going to do about that corner of the kitchen counter? The only thing I can do. MOVE.
That corner is the tip of the iceberg. It’s not that our house is falling down around us literally, per se, it’s more that in order for us to continue living here as the kids get older and bigger with friends who are older and bigger and oh so much louder; but that it needs a renovation the likes of which only Ty Pennington could produce. The kind of renovation that involves bulldozers and maybe some strategically placed dynamite.
But it’s a good little house, and it will be a good little house for the next family that comes along aiming to keep things small and efficient. We never intended to live here this long. When we bought it, we said: “It’s not our dream house, it’s our first house.” Yet this house served us well when the market went to the crapper, and we are well aware that we are in no way entitled to whine about the less than ideal housing circumstances we find ourselves in. We sit, and we wait, and we glare at the uneven kitchen counter, knowing that the next owners will have fun installing whatever suits their fancy.