When I was house shopping in 2011, I pulled up to what would soon be affectionately called the Pink House, saw it in all it’s pink glory, with its little white picket fence, and thought, for the first time out of all the properties I’d seen, “This might be my house.”
After walking through it, with its original hardwood floors and its gabled ceilings, I was convinced. Eventually, it became mine.
After living in it, though, there were some things that really bugged me. For one thing, it’s a classic Victorian, but with it’s trim painted two shades of turquoise and two shades of sandstone, it looked like a Victorian that was trying to be Southwestern. Now, I love me some turquoise jewelry, I just didn’t love it for my house. So, this summer, I decided to give her a new outfit.
I just finished having the exterior painted. It was quite an undertaking for the painter, he told me he used twice as much paint as he normally uses for a house this size, partially because of the detail and partially because it was so torn up and needed so much love. I chose colors that make it look like a dollhouse. I told my mom recently that I never had a dollhouse growing up (I did have the My Little Pony stable, it’s not like I didn’t have any cool toys) so I have to have one now. It now looks like a Victorian trying to be a Victorian. The body has a cooler shade of pink, as in less warm, more of a bluish pink, less of a yellowish pink, and the trim is now a darker shade of pink, plus two shades of taupe, and a classic white to top it off. There’s also just a hint of that old green (the color that chips off of every old window frame on any old house that you ever see) under the eave. It’s beautiful.
|I didn't get a good "before" photo, because we had painted big spots of the new colors on it before I got a chance. Here's one with Samuel in front of it, but you can definitely see the ugly trim.|
|After. My little dollhouse.|
I’m also three weeks into a remodel of my upstairs bathroom. Since they said it would take two and a half weeks, and they’re nowhere near done, it feels like they’ll be done…well, never. It’s not like my story is different from any you’ve ever heard, but it’s taking longer than expected, the contractors don’t always show up, when they do they’re smelly and they use my downstairs bathroom in a manner that makes me have to clean it before I can use it, everything is covered in an inch of plaster dust, and I’m so over it. I complain about it regularly, but it makes me feel like one of the cast of Bravo’s Real Housewives, a show I can’t stand because they are constantly complaining about their First World Problems. I put the back of my hand to my forehead and say, “My house is covered in plaster dust because they’re giving me the bathroom of my dreams!” So, overall, I know it will be done eventually and I’m so lucky to be getting to do it. I’ll post bathroom photos if it ever gets done.