As we stepped into the second home reno store the smell of lumber hit me again. Sensing that I was getting impatient, Paul took the control and lead us to the back of the store to look at bathroom vanities.
This vanity is going to go into the upstairs bathroom -- a room that I already love. The tiles are a light terra cotta and the walls are khaki green. The shower curtain and a great print I found at IKEA pull all of the colors together perfectly. I would be happy to leave the whole thing alone but the sink is a small pedestal and the only storage is a horrid four-drawer Rubbermaid system I bought to hold tooth brushes, a few rolls of toilet paper and the vast collection of bath toys that are necessary when one has toddlers.
Today it is even uglier. Stained with day-glo blue bubble bath, toothpaste and hair dye, it is stuffed to the brim with hair brushes, razors, replacement cartridges, shaving cream, a dozen tooth brushes (only 4 people live in the house), five tubes of toothpaste and an army of bath toys. The drawers only close if you push them hard and from a precise angle. I have a five year old -- how often do you think those drawers are left half open?! You will notice that there is no longer room to store a spare roll of toilet paper which annoys me to no end.
It is my hatred of this white plastic nightmare that Paul has used to coax me to the home reno store in the first place. He catches me at a weak moment when I walk in and find three of the four drawers wide open and I am wiping green tooth paste off of it once again. "We can keep the tile and I will re-paint the walls the exact same color. Think of how much nicer the bathroom would look if we had a vanity instead of this ugly thing." He knows how to push my buttons.
So here we are at the hated big-box store looking at vanities... too white, too boxy, too dark, not enough storage. There is one I like but it is too big. They do make one in the size we need but they don't have it on display. Paul shows me a small grainy picture on the side of a box. Exhausted and frustrated I say let's take it.
He leads me to the next aisle and tells me to pick a counter. I want to cry. I should have known from the toilet debacle that a counter would not be included with a vanity! That would be far too easy.
"White or beige?"
"Beige."
"Sink built in or with a drop-in sink?"
"Built-in -- you are not going to sucker me into a trip down another aisle"
"Sink centered or off-set"
"Off-set."
"Do you want to look at a new tap or use the one we already have?"
"You're kidding me right?"
With all of the questions answered Paul says great and begins to walk away. When I open my mouth to ask he says, "we'll have to come another day to pick it up, we can't fit all of this in the car right now." At this point I am wondering if divorce lawyers work on Sunday afternoons. I am pretty sure that if one set up a table at a home reno store each weekend they could make a killing.
We move over to the tile aisle and shift our focus to the downstairs bathroom where we will be tiling a counter instead of picking a pre-made one as the size we need is irregular and would require a special-order. I like several different options but find it difficult to settle on one as I don't know what color the walls will be. With kids in tow we track to the opposite end of the store to look at paint chips.
"Pick this color," Kaye says holding out a hot pink paint chip. Paul grumbles and shakes his head.
"What about this?" Gracie asks holding a purple chip.
"Look girls, this is not going to be a princess bathroom. Just let dad and I look OK..."
Turning to Paul I say, "I'm thinking of a pumpkin color." He simply nods and starts rummaging through the prepared color combinations.
At combo number 3 he stops. Pulls it out and says: "what about this?"
"Fine," I say and we leave the store holding only four paint chips.
3 hours, 2 stores and 1 fight later we have emerged with nothing but 4 paint chips!
As we get in the car I start to giggle and look over Paul. "You know that we are the same people who bought a car in an hour and a half, right?" He simply shakes his head as the incongruity of this sets in.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Home renovations - a continuing story
After yesterday's post a number of you asked what we will be doing with the bathroom once the wallpaper is down. The short answer is paint the walls and install a new counter made from decorative tile.
This whole saga started in 2008 when the air-conditioner broke down. It was August and I was not willing to put out the cash at that point so we just lived without it. A few months later, Paul and I were hearing more about the energy assessment program. As our furnace is 30-years old and living on borrowed time, it seemed like a no-brainer to do the replacements now when there were rebates available.
Well, that adventure spiralled out of control and resulted in: a new (huge) air conditioner, a high-efficiency furnace, a new hot water tank, new home siding to cover the improved 3-inch insulation, five new windows and a new patio door. It was an expensive summer filled with noisy workmen tracking in and out of my home. Paul (mysteriously) was never here for any of the installations so I was left to my own devices. In other words I made coffee and tried to nod knowingly as they blathered on about measurements, building code and extending the life of my compressor. Whatever!
Looking at the list of suggested improvements we should also get insulation blown into the attic and replace the toilets. While we were looking at the toilets we were reminded that the downstairs powder room is old, ugly and dated and we need extra storeage in the upstairs bathroom. Finally, we need to do a lot of painting as the new patio door is smaller than the last and there is plaster and drywall exposed in the living room.
By now I am fed up with having strangers in my house. Those of you who know me well, know that I HATE having people in my house so it has been quite challenge for me already. I have put my foot down. We are doing the bathrooms and the painting ourselves.
We started this weekend at the new home improvement store. Paul was excited because he loves these places but I usually complain and whine the entire trip. Good times! When I was a kid my dad did a lot of woodworking and I have vivid memories of boredom-filled evenings at the lumber yard as my parents picked out the correct number of perfectly straight 2x4s. Home reno stores smell just like the lumber yards and all the memories just come flooding back.
Anyway, this weekend we started the process by looking at bathroom vanities which cost a fortune, are ugly and have shockingly little storage space in them. Within minutes I really didn't care what we bought, I wanted to go home. As we wandered up the aisle I noticed the automated voice on the PA -- "assistance required in plumbing"; "assistance required in lighting", "assistance required in lumber".
"What the hell is that?" I asked Paul.
"It's the new system they have so customers can find help. You just press a button and it triggers an announcement."
"Are you kidding me? It is going off every flippin' 2 minutes. Where is the staff? Are they in the back hiding?"
Repetitive automated voices grate on my nerves and from that moment on I heard every announcement and got increasingly annoyed with each one. My kids -- who know full-well that this kind of thing drives me crazy -- laughed harder and harder with each announcement and soon the trip resulted in the 3 of us girls giggling like idiots while Paul tried to pick a vanity.
Next we tracked over to the toilet section. Our two daughters are already bored at this point. They have their winter boots on and they are dragging their feet on the concrete as we trudge over. I tell Grace for the eighth time to pick up her feet when she walks. Kaye is hot so I take off her hat and gloves and carry them so we don't lose yet another mitt this year.
"We need to pick a high-efficiency toilet so check the price tags," Paul explained. "Make sure you are checking the price tag for the tank not the toilet."
"Wait, are you telling me that they sell the toilet and the tank separately?"
"Yes"
"Why would they do that? That's ridiculous!" Have I mentioned that I HATE home renovation stores?
"They just do."
"Seriously Paul, why? Do people come in and try to mix and match? OOOOHHH I love this toilet but the tank is all wrong. Can I get that tank instead? Honestly, who does that?"
"OK Jules, let's try to focus here."
"No really, who is buying just one piece? They change the color beige for appliances, toilets and sinks every freakin' five minutes! It's not like you are going to be able to come back when one breaks and get the same color to match your existing tank. It's crazy."
My husband has the patience of Job but at this point he is no longer enjoying Home-reno Land. We leave the store empty-handed and agree to try the huge hemo-reno store down the street. (Yes, there are two of them within spitting-distance of one another.) Relieved to be leaving, but wanting to cry that we have to start over in the next place, I do up my coat and bundle up the kids once again.
Part 2 tomorrow...
This whole saga started in 2008 when the air-conditioner broke down. It was August and I was not willing to put out the cash at that point so we just lived without it. A few months later, Paul and I were hearing more about the energy assessment program. As our furnace is 30-years old and living on borrowed time, it seemed like a no-brainer to do the replacements now when there were rebates available.
Well, that adventure spiralled out of control and resulted in: a new (huge) air conditioner, a high-efficiency furnace, a new hot water tank, new home siding to cover the improved 3-inch insulation, five new windows and a new patio door. It was an expensive summer filled with noisy workmen tracking in and out of my home. Paul (mysteriously) was never here for any of the installations so I was left to my own devices. In other words I made coffee and tried to nod knowingly as they blathered on about measurements, building code and extending the life of my compressor. Whatever!
Looking at the list of suggested improvements we should also get insulation blown into the attic and replace the toilets. While we were looking at the toilets we were reminded that the downstairs powder room is old, ugly and dated and we need extra storeage in the upstairs bathroom. Finally, we need to do a lot of painting as the new patio door is smaller than the last and there is plaster and drywall exposed in the living room.
By now I am fed up with having strangers in my house. Those of you who know me well, know that I HATE having people in my house so it has been quite challenge for me already. I have put my foot down. We are doing the bathrooms and the painting ourselves.
We started this weekend at the new home improvement store. Paul was excited because he loves these places but I usually complain and whine the entire trip. Good times! When I was a kid my dad did a lot of woodworking and I have vivid memories of boredom-filled evenings at the lumber yard as my parents picked out the correct number of perfectly straight 2x4s. Home reno stores smell just like the lumber yards and all the memories just come flooding back.
Anyway, this weekend we started the process by looking at bathroom vanities which cost a fortune, are ugly and have shockingly little storage space in them. Within minutes I really didn't care what we bought, I wanted to go home. As we wandered up the aisle I noticed the automated voice on the PA -- "assistance required in plumbing"; "assistance required in lighting", "assistance required in lumber".
"What the hell is that?" I asked Paul.
"It's the new system they have so customers can find help. You just press a button and it triggers an announcement."
"Are you kidding me? It is going off every flippin' 2 minutes. Where is the staff? Are they in the back hiding?"
Repetitive automated voices grate on my nerves and from that moment on I heard every announcement and got increasingly annoyed with each one. My kids -- who know full-well that this kind of thing drives me crazy -- laughed harder and harder with each announcement and soon the trip resulted in the 3 of us girls giggling like idiots while Paul tried to pick a vanity.
Next we tracked over to the toilet section. Our two daughters are already bored at this point. They have their winter boots on and they are dragging their feet on the concrete as we trudge over. I tell Grace for the eighth time to pick up her feet when she walks. Kaye is hot so I take off her hat and gloves and carry them so we don't lose yet another mitt this year.
"We need to pick a high-efficiency toilet so check the price tags," Paul explained. "Make sure you are checking the price tag for the tank not the toilet."
"Wait, are you telling me that they sell the toilet and the tank separately?"
"Yes"
"Why would they do that? That's ridiculous!" Have I mentioned that I HATE home renovation stores?
"They just do."
"Seriously Paul, why? Do people come in and try to mix and match? OOOOHHH I love this toilet but the tank is all wrong. Can I get that tank instead? Honestly, who does that?"
"OK Jules, let's try to focus here."
"No really, who is buying just one piece? They change the color beige for appliances, toilets and sinks every freakin' five minutes! It's not like you are going to be able to come back when one breaks and get the same color to match your existing tank. It's crazy."
My husband has the patience of Job but at this point he is no longer enjoying Home-reno Land. We leave the store empty-handed and agree to try the huge hemo-reno store down the street. (Yes, there are two of them within spitting-distance of one another.) Relieved to be leaving, but wanting to cry that we have to start over in the next place, I do up my coat and bundle up the kids once again.
Part 2 tomorrow...
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Wallpaper musings...
I hate wallpaper.
I can count on one hand the amount of times I have looked at a wallpapered room and did not feel the need to lie about liking it. Usually I end up smiling politely and saying "Wow, you wallpapered". (It is a trick my mom taught me that gets you out of a situation where you would otherwise have to lie. I do it quite often. Usually it takes the form of: Wow, now that's a baby! or Wow! that's a unique hair color.)
I remember one afternoon when I was in my early 20s and I brought a new boyfriend of mine to see my mom at work. I warned him ahead of time that the office was in a basement with really bad 70s decor. It had gold shag carpeting and a HORRIBLE wall mural of a Hawaiian sunset on one wall. Seriously, who buys those things!?! Could they be more tacky!
A few weeks later this same guy brought me home to meet his parents. I was nervous because I was really falling for him and wanted his folks to like me too. As he gave me the tour of his home, he paused in front of an upstairs room to tell me that this was his his favorite spot in the whole house. "Actually I chose the decorations myself," he bragged.
As he opened the door and turned on the light my jaw dropped. They had the exact same Hawaiian sunset mural! I froze. I could not even muster up the courage to lie. Let's face it -- it's a Hawaiian sunset mural! I can fib with the best of them but even I could not get out of this one. He thought it was hysterical and laughed at my shock and horror for a long time after that visit.
Fast forward a few years later when I married Paul, a man who hates wallpaper just as much as I do. Unfortunately the previous owners of our home did not feel the same way and had wallpapered EVERY SINGLE WALL IN THE HOUSE. I kid you not. Every. Single. Wall.
After taking possession I quickly discovered that the best thing about wallpaper is stripping it off. It is one of my favorite home renovation jobs. There is something mesmerizing about grabbing a tiny corner and seeing how big of a sheet you can pull from the wall. For me it is almost therapeutic; it is a concrete, measurable accomplishment.
Today I am tackling our downstairs powder room. It is one of the last spots in our home that still has wallpaper. I spent the day with my iPod on full blast and my scraper and steamer in hand. There are small scraps wallpaper strewn on the floor and overflowing out into the hallway.
It has been a fabulous, relaxing day.
I can count on one hand the amount of times I have looked at a wallpapered room and did not feel the need to lie about liking it. Usually I end up smiling politely and saying "Wow, you wallpapered". (It is a trick my mom taught me that gets you out of a situation where you would otherwise have to lie. I do it quite often. Usually it takes the form of: Wow, now that's a baby! or Wow! that's a unique hair color.)
I remember one afternoon when I was in my early 20s and I brought a new boyfriend of mine to see my mom at work. I warned him ahead of time that the office was in a basement with really bad 70s decor. It had gold shag carpeting and a HORRIBLE wall mural of a Hawaiian sunset on one wall. Seriously, who buys those things!?! Could they be more tacky!
A few weeks later this same guy brought me home to meet his parents. I was nervous because I was really falling for him and wanted his folks to like me too. As he gave me the tour of his home, he paused in front of an upstairs room to tell me that this was his his favorite spot in the whole house. "Actually I chose the decorations myself," he bragged.
As he opened the door and turned on the light my jaw dropped. They had the exact same Hawaiian sunset mural! I froze. I could not even muster up the courage to lie. Let's face it -- it's a Hawaiian sunset mural! I can fib with the best of them but even I could not get out of this one. He thought it was hysterical and laughed at my shock and horror for a long time after that visit.
Fast forward a few years later when I married Paul, a man who hates wallpaper just as much as I do. Unfortunately the previous owners of our home did not feel the same way and had wallpapered EVERY SINGLE WALL IN THE HOUSE. I kid you not. Every. Single. Wall.
After taking possession I quickly discovered that the best thing about wallpaper is stripping it off. It is one of my favorite home renovation jobs. There is something mesmerizing about grabbing a tiny corner and seeing how big of a sheet you can pull from the wall. For me it is almost therapeutic; it is a concrete, measurable accomplishment.
Today I am tackling our downstairs powder room. It is one of the last spots in our home that still has wallpaper. I spent the day with my iPod on full blast and my scraper and steamer in hand. There are small scraps wallpaper strewn on the floor and overflowing out into the hallway.
It has been a fabulous, relaxing day.
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