Let me just tell you, I am not a huge fan of bathrooms from any century before the one I’m currently living in. A well designed bathroom with timeless fixtures and amenities – you are lovely. You can stay. However, the bathrooms in this house are not any of those things and I find myself more grossed out by them than anything else. (Yes, I did just paint myself as that kind of princess.)
We can chalk this up to: other people’s dirt, grime, and bad remodeling skills give me the heebeejeebee’s.
So I bought myself a heat gun and started ripping up linoleum.
I had just seen this article in Country Living magazine and wanted to tape up these photos in every room of this house because, that house?, was 90% ideal to me. A dream. Reused and refurbished items, low cost demo and rebuilding. A true DIYer’s haven.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t start making this house a home similar to that one.
So I got to it.
The heat fun set me back $19.98 and in 2 afternoons and in the midst of dust (a lot of dust) I had two coats of moisture resistant paint on the floor.
We were in business.
And thats when I decided I’m kind of a “just do it” person, which is not a new idea to me but it’s been a very long time since I could engage that part of me. (I heard that, mom.) ((She has this noise she does at me in a goodnatured way of teasing when I finally come to a conclusion that she’s been patiently waiting for me to arrive at.))
I’ve been kind of frantic about getting a few big projects done around this house lately and I freak out about time lines and budgets and and and – and then I had to slap myself because, Jodi. Stop it. Just enjoy this. Be here. It’ll happen.
So the painted subfloor is a little pebble in the boardwalk we’re building across the stream’s bedrocks of Reality and Expectations. She’s a shiny rock, white and effervescent, in the horizon of THINGS TO DO on and in this house.
And what a pretty little floor, she is.