the bungalow files: work work work

The last time Dan and I worked on a house was when we renovated the bed and breakfast two summers ago.  And let me tell you, it's a lot more tiring to fix up a house when you also work 40+ hours a week at a desk job.   Our only daily duties back then were to practice making breakfast foods and to get the house ready for guests.  It's different this time, but the realization that the space we're renovating is ultimately for us (not guests) offers quite a bit of solace.

In fact, thus far we've been really motivated.  Ripping up carpeting until 12 am, dutifully pulling staples out of the hardwood flooring before we leave for work in the morning, and painting walls until we have blisters on our hands has all been worth it.  

I actually ended up wearing the same outfit to work 2 days in a row.  I was so busy packing essentials like toothpaste and a hair brush that I completely forgot about things like clothing.  After a few days of frantically searching through boxes and bags for unwrinkled, work appropriate clothes I decided to forgo working on the carpet downstairs and work on my closet upstairs. (Yes, I *ahem* ever so generously offered to take the extremely large closet upstairs, so Dan could have the nicely sized, but significantly smaller one in our bedroom.)

This is a terrible picture, but it is the best one to illustrate the exact color and texture of the wall to wall carpeting that was in the closet. I'm pretty sure when I was little my bedroom had this same exact carpeting, only in yellow.  Awesome.  

And here's the closet a few minutes later.  Hardwoods unearthed. It was only being held down by two pieces of double sided tape. Seriously, why did people love wall to wall carpeting so much? Could somebody please explain this to me? What made them think that that green was better than this?

The most frustrating thing about moving in is wanting to renovate everything and make huge changes, but being stuck having to do boring things that nobody will even notice - like cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms.  I have a confession to make - I never cleaned the fridge.  Eeep. (Please don't judge me! I will some day! Soon!)  After a few nights, I was so sick of eating fast food, and too tired to even be bothered to go get it. Fast forward to Dan and me and a dinner that consisted of a can of cream style corn.  And that's it. I kid you not.  The next day, I spent a small fortune at Trader Joe's (which is fortuitously, or not so fortuitously, on my route home from work) and loaded it all into the fridge.  I had the good intentions of cleaning it out first. I really did. But it already looked clean and there were so many other things to be done.  And...enough excuses - I just need to clean it.  Maybe tonight.

These are the daffodils I treated myself to on that over-the-top trip to Trader Joe's.  They lived all of 3 days. Sigh.

I DID scrub the kitchen cabinets.  They were relatively clean, but I still probably used enough Clorox on them to kill half of my brain.  I'm sticking to green cleaners from here on out.

This is the little "bling" that was left on our backdoor.  I'm not overly fond of the religious nature of the sign, but I do think it's cute and the design reminds me of something Scandinavian, so I'm keeping it for now.

I feel this weird, sort of subconscious need to honor the memory of the people who lived here before us.  Even though I never met them, for some reason knowing that they were here for 56 years and seeing the ways they cared so much about this home, makes me feel like it will always partly belong to them. Maybe that's just the new homeowner in me not knowing how to fully take on my new role and needing to hold onto some sort of renter mentality.  In all honesty though, I can't see myself ever fully letting go of the memory of the family who called this house a home before us.

Stay tuned - there are more pictures to come!