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When we decided to buy the colonial home at 4 W. Bayberry Court, Brett and I knew it would take some work to get the house up to our standards. Between the severely outdated kitchen, complete with pale parquet floors and plaid curtains, and the stained carpet that covered the living room, we were well aware that our bank account would run dry from contractor fees and materials. In addition to the putrid 1980s kitchen, there was one room that oozed ugliness to the point where I just pretended it didn't exist: the powder room. Warning: the photo above does not show how bad it really was pre-remodel. A yellowish brown laminate floor, dingy cabinets, beige countertop, and bright blue walls. And then there was the cabinet hardware which consisted of leaf-shaped doorknobs. It felt like a dodgy hunting cabin smack in the middle of my home. I hated this room and avoided it like the plague. Anytime a guest asked if they could use it, I would say, "Sure, but keep in mind we never go in there. It's bad." Ninety-nine percent of our guests agreed. It was only my friend Laura, who has the most carefree attitude of anyone I know, who exclaimed that she in fact liked the bathroom, especially the wall color. I would blame it on the alcohol, but Laura doesn't drink. Anyway, after about a year of keeping the door shut at all times so I wouldn't get a glimpse of the hideous powder room, Brett and I decided it was time for a change.
Something every woman should know by now is that when a man starts a job, it will take him at least twice as long to finish it as he predicted. Brett said he'd be finished renovating the
powder room by a Tuesday, and of course it took him an additional four days. Things come up. Picking out a paint color took at least a week. Do you know how many variations of robin's egg blue there are? And then there was the mess. When I come home from work at night, I like to walk into a calming atmosphere and relax for a few hours. In this case, I was coming home to paint fumes, random nails on the floor, and boxes everywhere. There was a countertop and sink in our dining room for well over a week. I was this close to getting out the whip. But little by little I noticed that Brett was making real progress and was slowly turning the ugly powder room into something, well, not ugly. So I decided to give him his space and stop complaining about the disaster that had become our first floor. At last, one Saturday morning I didn't wake up to boxes, random nails on the floor, a sink in the dining room, or a husband who smelled like a paintbrush. The room was finished and I was finally proud to let guests walk through its doors. Too bad I have to keep it clean now.
When we decided to buy the colonial home at 4 W. Bayberry Court, Brett and I knew it would take some work to get the house up to our standards. Between the severely outdated kitchen, complete with pale parquet floors and plaid curtains, and the stained carpet that covered the living room, we were well aware that our bank account would run dry from contractor fees and materials. In addition to the putrid 1980s kitchen, there was one room that oozed ugliness to the point where I just pretended it didn't exist: the powder room. Warning: the photo above does not show how bad it really was pre-remodel. A yellowish brown laminate floor, dingy cabinets, beige countertop, and bright blue walls. And then there was the cabinet hardware which consisted of leaf-shaped doorknobs. It felt like a dodgy hunting cabin smack in the middle of my home. I hated this room and avoided it like the plague. Anytime a guest asked if they could use it, I would say, "Sure, but keep in mind we never go in there. It's bad." Ninety-nine percent of our guests agreed. It was only my friend Laura, who has the most carefree attitude of anyone I know, who exclaimed that she in fact liked the bathroom, especially the wall color. I would blame it on the alcohol, but Laura doesn't drink. Anyway, after about a year of keeping the door shut at all times so I wouldn't get a glimpse of the hideous powder room, Brett and I decided it was time for a change.
powder room by a Tuesday, and of course it took him an additional four days. Things come up. Picking out a paint color took at least a week. Do you know how many variations of robin's egg blue there are? And then there was the mess. When I come home from work at night, I like to walk into a calming atmosphere and relax for a few hours. In this case, I was coming home to paint fumes, random nails on the floor, and boxes everywhere. There was a countertop and sink in our dining room for well over a week. I was this close to getting out the whip. But little by little I noticed that Brett was making real progress and was slowly turning the ugly powder room into something, well, not ugly. So I decided to give him his space and stop complaining about the disaster that had become our first floor. At last, one Saturday morning I didn't wake up to boxes, random nails on the floor, a sink in the dining room, or a husband who smelled like a paintbrush. The room was finished and I was finally proud to let guests walk through its doors. Too bad I have to keep it clean now.
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