As a male living with a female in a two person, two pet household I'm facing a challenge, likely well known by many. This familiar challenge involves an apparent disparity in closet and clothing storage space between myself and my spouse.
Never mind the fact that our 1880s home was built with only a single original hallway closet, as a theoretic lack of closet space is quite expected. No, my friends, we remedied that little issue through the construction of a large closet wall in our master bedroom.
However, upon completion of said "awesome major closet" project, both the middle and right closet space were commandeered by the Queen of our household. At the time I was told she was exercising her rights to eminent domain over the middle closet. Though I had initially expected the space to be a shared area, it had been seized in its entirety, in the name of homeland security of the shoe and purse storage kind.
When I asked how to fight this decision, I was told, "Sorry kid, nothing you can do, it's just the way it is, and it's best to accept and move on." It was a bitter pill, I assure you.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
One of my absolute favorite aspects of our old home (and many old homes in general) is our house's period and restored architectural hardware.
Since moving into our home we've gone to great lengths to discover and restore period vintage hardware for our home. Whether that means scouring eBay or digging through the extras pile at a salvage yard, we've attempted to leave no knob unturned in our search.
Over the years on the blog we've covered our rim locks at length, including their restoration.
We've mentioned our sash lifts, stripping their paint, and how we've been tirelessly searching for just a few more matching lifts to complete the set.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
We've got ourselves a functional turlet!
Yes, that's right, an official and flushable lavatory! This is big news. No, no, actually, this is really big news.
Up until last night we've been without a second seat in our home for several years. We've endured visits from friends and family with sadly a single sanitarios. We've entertained small groups while lacking more than a lone loo. We've hosted dozens at our Halloween party with simply a stag stool. Yet somehow we made it work.
There have even been days where Wendy and I both have to use the lavvy so badly on the way home that we actually bargain for first rights or race each other up the stairs to lay claim to the throne.
And I'd be lying if I said the thought of "oh man, what happens if we both happen to he worshiping the porcelain god at the same time due to some sort of stomach virus?" hadn't crossed my mind...on a regular basis.
Trim and finish work of all kinds are major elements in every room we've undertaken in our home.
Whether we're talking about stripping original moulding...
...having reproduction moulding profiles created to match original elements...
...making major statements with custom and complex wainscoting elements...
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
There are few things I hate more in life than a scammer, liar, and a cheat.
Long ago, as a very young kid, I remember going to the video arcade at the mall with a $5 bill in hand. As I walked up to the exchange machine to get some tokens, an "old person" (he was probably in his 20s) approached me and said, "I have a whole bunch of tokens I can't use but I need to leave. There's probably close to $20 worth in here," as he shook a small paper bag full of jingling tokens, "and if you want to just give me that $5, we'll call it even. I mean, you're really doing me a favor here."
My eyes must have lit up. I had planned on playing just $5 worth of games, but now I had possibly $20 or more of game play coming my way! And I was doing this guy a favor?!? What a deal! I excitedly answered, "Sure, thanks! Here's my $5!"
I distinctly remember having a fleeting moment of panic that I would hand him my bill before he handed over the tokens, and then run from the arcade. But this fear was waylaid when he unfurled his clenched fist holding the bag and dropped it into my eager hands before I even handed over my precious dough.
He thanked me for the help and headed out the arcade door as I practically skipped to the nearby driving game I'd now be spending four times longer enjoying.
However, my joy turned to dread as I reached into the bag only to realize it was full of pennies and circular metal blanks from the hardware store. To say I was crushed is an understatement. I was broken, completely unaware of how someone could be so cruel. For what? $4 and change?