It Ain't Over Till It's Over

To help get you up to speed with our current situation let me start off with a little background history. Deep breath. Okay here we go. 

Rodney and I sold our very nice house three years into our marriage.

Our first house

We ran head on into some major problems and knew it was a sacrifice for the greater good. A few years passed and we bought a cheap house off the foreclosure list towards the end of 2014. We had big, big dreams and lots of motivation despite the houses current condition.

There are very few things I share publicly about hiccups in my life but let me just say that if you ever get a light bulb that flashes with envisions of going down our same path, run like hell and do not let the door hit you on the way out. It has not been easy to say the least.

Nuts that fell from the ceiling

I truly believe our faith in God keeps us from dragging each other out back. The process of remodeling a worn out house that faced years of neglect has been long, dusty, expensive and way worse than we ever anticipated. The crazy stories are endless and I could entertain people for hours with things such as discovering locks on the interior doors as if the previous owners locked someone or something inside. Then there was the time my husband poked the ceiling that was bowing down only he ended up with piles of nuts that fell down on his head. There's also the grand memory of when we only had a few weeks to move in and his friends were all over helping him. I left to run errands and came back hours later to find they had unexpectedly gutted the majority of the house. My husband almost died that day. 

            November of this year will mark two years in this house. Although we have gutted 90% of the house and redid all the plumbing, electricity, installed new dry wall plus fixed and updated many other major issues, it feels as if visually hardly anything has been done. My heart yearns to have a house again that lacks constant projects, noises from an air compressor running or nail guns, hammers or the constant tools found lying around. This journey continues to test my faith, patience and at times the idea of living in a tent sounds way more relaxing than here. However, I feel that after almost two years of struggle we finally found a gem. Hidden underneath two layers of nasty carpet existed a hardwood floor. It is not perfect. It needs work, repair and some boards replaced but each dent and scratch has a story. Each mark exist from years of being in place and from holding strong against resistance. The floor still needs sanded and refinished but we are choosing to keep it. The floor is the only remaining piece of this house still of value that is even worth keeping.

It reminds me of life, my husband and marriage. Our lives are hit with constant pressure and trials. More often than not I find people give up, makes excuses, blame others or find an escape. What if we all learned to navigate through the dents and dings with our faith holding strong and believe that better days are coming while attempting to learn from every trial? Never giving up is the true testimony and like that hard wood floor buried beneath layers of ugliness all it takes is someone to see the hidden beauty.

Someone once told me a great thought to consider about trials. In life we have three choices. In the face of adversity you can give up, walk away or fight. We refuse to give up or walk away from this house (major pain in my rear) because we believe in it. We see its potential and just like my husband and I, we believe in each other regardless of how hard some days might be. We chose to stand and fight. Giving up, with God’s grace has never been an option. I've learned over the years that instead of seeing his flaws sometimes I have to face my own. The more I improve, the more he does as well. Like most people, despite flaws there are many good traits hidden under life's dents and dings. I just wish more people would be willing to weather the storm and stick it out through those trials. If so, one day more could see the fruits of their labor.

I am not perfect by any means nor claim to be. In all honesty I still swear and curse this house but I believe in the future verses just what today brings. I wish more people could keep the faith and not give up so easily. When people do, they miss out on so many hidden treasures.

 

Found in the roof rafters

https://www.instagram.com/p/BBx4kqpmKpw/ 

-Sarah

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Last week I wrote a blurb about our current project. I will have to upload that blurb later in order to get you caught up with our journey. Those thoughts relate to the hard wood floors that were discovered underneath the carpet in a bedroom for our two daughters. We were lucky enough to obtain this free carpet with the purchase of the house almost like a buy one get one free. Really nothing is free. The item is solely a throw in deal because it wouldn’t sell otherwise.

The first layer was a cream colored carpet which was layered over top of a repulsive green colored carpet designed for the outdoors. Apparently it was on sale at some point so the previous homeowners took a gamble and threw that steal of a deal in an upstairs bedroom. The only issue is, it reeked as if its outdoor design reminded ole’ Fido of nature and fire hydrants. I hope you get my drift.  The truth is it had been peed on numerous times.

 I was beyond thrilled when my dear husband heard me mention the stench for the last time. I found him late one night working in the bedroom. He was excited to see me join him because my appearance usually means that instead of sleeping, I am going to jump right in and start helping. Our projects turn into quality time spent together where we discuss whatever comes to mind. Working with hammers, nail guns, dust and whatever remodeling involves is not exactly my idea of a romantic dream date. However for two adults with obvious signs about us that screams parenthood, I am willing to pull my hair out (or up) and run some power tools just to be with him.

Together we ripped up the first layer of carpet and then the second. Although our curiosity did not kill any cats, it did give us a moment of joy with the discovery of the hardwood flooring. The floor was painted with several colors. It was in rough shape but I felt the floor had character which I also explain in my other blurb I already referenced.

The paint we discovered over the wood flooring fascinated me. I could not stop wondering what would possess anyone to hide wood flooring with paint. The search for an answer motivated me to do some research.  I discovered that paint became popular for the interior of homes during the 18^th Century and the trend carried over onto the flooring. The information helps to explain the reasoning for our painted floors. You can read more about the history of wood floors at;

http://www.oldhouseonline.com/the-history-of-wood-flooring/

I love learning and the author from the link describes how the first wooden floors in colonial America were wide, thick planks cut from old-growth forests. Turning timber into usable flooring was an intense process that required two men working together while pulling at opposite ends of a long-bladed saw.  The ordeal would have required both individuals to work as a team. That knowledge alone allowed me to take a step back and view our stucco house from a new found perspective. At one point, someone did care about this house and many hours alone had been spent on the floors. Without a doubt the floor is worth bringing back to life.

The process to bring the floor back has not come easy. We have since gone through a few stages of sanding while tired after putting in long hours once our children have gone to bed. The process has also included many moments where we grate on each others nerves. My mind has often considered a Spork.  You know one of those plastic utensils that's half spoon, half a fork. I could use one so I can scoop out his eyes all while giving him a good shank. I mean really, who in their right mind signs up for this type of adventure willingly? We must be noobs. There has also been the frequent pain of stepping on another staple or nail despite the hundreds we have already removed. The minute we think we got them all, I step down only to end up with a bloody foot. Yes, I do in fact love being bare foot even though I know shoes would help to avoid that problem.

 The floors have yet to be stained but we have narrowed down our choices. Walking into a store to pick out a stain color was more than overwhelming. It was like asking a person to pick out their ice cream flavor from numerous buckets underneath those glass windows with nearly 30 rainbow colored choices. One is always left questioning whether or not you made the right choice or whether you should have chosen the chocolate instead of your go to favorite, Moose Tracks.  I wanted to scream from the mental dilemma the choices secretly caused within my mind.

After much deliberation and image comparisons online, my husband and I selected three different stains. The brand is Minwax and we tested three pieces of the tongue and groove floor to compare the differences. The stain color choices are Honey, Gunstock and English Chestnut. 

Each one looked very similar until they dried. The three stains each developed their own color such as a red, yellow and a brown hue. An application of Varathane, a floor finisher helped to highlight each board’s grain differently with each being equally beautiful. The final vote was a tough one to make but my husband and I actually chose the same one. That was a painless agreement that did not involve drawing straws. I say that jokingly because we all know in reality, mamma gets her way regardless of straw lengths. Right women? Sorry men, you know the drill.

 Our choice is English Chestnut for the floor. I will post the results here soon. I say soon because we are still attempting to complete that task. However, thanks for reading and come back soon for more updates.

-Sarah  

Get set, get ready.....

         My husband and I walked eagerly into obtaining a worn out spiritless stucco house during the fall of 2014. Life was full of ambitions, pride and a passion to pour our love into a house left for dead. The house had sat vacant for over 3 years and the signs of neglect were beyond apparent. Over the years we had visited numerous houses on the market for sale and we were always drawn to those old houses that smelled, had the visible signs of chaos, dysfunction and neglect. I always felt as if the physical signs of the house were part of all the untold stories. Those stories from the countless families who suffered from their own personal struggles throughout many decades since the houses were built. If only the walls and floors could talk.
           Our journey began in Upstate NY. I vividly remember sitting in a small towns building complex where the attorney kept his office. My husband was deployed overseas and I sat there alone with our two small girls at an oversized mahogany table big enough for over a dozen people. Every inch of the room was taken up by enormous book shelves full of law books that I had no interest in ever reading. I normally rush into situations head strong and willing to conquer and yet that day I suddenly felt out of my element. A million what if's flashed through my head concerning that days agenda. I sat there knowing that I and I alone were about to sign away a huge stack of paperwork that included words only a dictionary could help me to decode. My husband, my best friend and my major source of support was absent. I was on my own left to "keep moving forward." Despite the worry and doubt swirling around in my head I took a deep breath and signed away all the legal documentation. My hand hurt. My mind hurt and yet there I was being congratulated by the real estate agent and attorney on the completion of buying our future. I had no clue what I had just done and no idea of how my signature had just set in motion a whole whirlwind of events, some pleasant and some beyond agonizing. We bought a house. A stucco house on just under an acre that was built near the 1800s. All plumbing had been stripped and the place smelled like a collection of moth balls, blue cheese and mold. The kind of mold that lingers, tickles your nose and encourages a shower. However, now that we are two years in and actually have plumbing, I have discovered that our journey is full of hidden treasures. This blog is a collection of those discoveries with some humor and raw honesty. Come along, take a country seat and read along so you can share with us in life's greatest journey. Our journey that includes daily remodeling.

-Sarah