Let There Be Light...and Make it Purdy

My den has no overhead lighting...which I don't mind so much, as I much prefer natural light or ambient lighting.  But have you folks checked the prices on lamps lately?  They's expensive!  New lamps for the den could easily run me $100 or more. 

So I went bargain hunting...in my sister's attic.  She donated several brass lamps to my cause.  But they weren't exactly jiving with the decor in my little ranchero.  And while lamps are expensive, spraypaint is not.  I turned those brass badboys into some citrus delight in just a few hours.

A few tips:

• Use painter's tape to cover the electrical parts
• Paint in a well-ventilated area
• Apply a coat of primer to cover any rust spots and give yourself a nice even coat of paint
• Buy a plastic spray gun topper for your paint can - you'll save your index finger, keep from getting messy and be able to spray in steady strokes.
• Put the lamp in an oversized cardboard box to catch the overspray (thanks, Dad!)

Brass monkey...a less than funky monkey.

Primed and ready for a citrus overcoat.

Freshly squeezed orange paint

Orange you just loving this?

Clap on!

Now We're Cooking

Roughly 70 days, at least 7 different contractors and 7 degrees of sanity lost, the kitchen is finished.  I mean, the renovation process is.  Let's not get overzealous.  There's still work to be done - heck, we might all die with the sugar residing in the spare bedroom.  But at least we have a functional, fashionable kitchen to call our very own.

Let us first go back to the way we were, nearly 30 years of history housed in cabinets and countertops and really amazing retro shelf paper.

Before -note the stylish but functional formica

Here we have the always lovely "peninsula"

The always fabulous "vent hood."

Although our time machine isn't presently operational, this has just about the same effect.

Shortly after these pictures were taken, the demolition began along with a stint of microwave meals and takeout.  And along the way, there were more than a few headaches.  Like the one cabinet that had to be ordered three times.  Or the backsplash that almost never happened. Or the floor gouging incident perpetrated by the backsplash guys that nearly made my sweet, even-mannered mother lose her religion and her temper.  But in the end, it all came together.  Behold!

And the angels sang...

Islands in the stream - that is what we have

Double ovens! More room for Mama Harp delicacies

It's all shiny and new!

Please note the backsplash. There was a lot of heartache in that backsplash...

Terra Cotta's Gotta Go from Walnut Grove

When I was looking at houses, I passed over the one I bought a couple dozen times because I hated the shutters.  I know what that anonymous eponymous they say about getting hung up on paint colors that can be changed.  But this paint color gave the house such a repugnant drab watery look that I couldn't get over it.  These terra cotta shutters destroyed the whole house for me - so much so that it took a little convincing from my real estate agent to include it on the caravan of listings we were scheduled to see in the neighborhood.  Once I saw the inside and - let's face it - the towering trees in the backyard, I was sold.  Suddenly the odious repulsive shutters seemed like a small obstacle standing between me and home sweet home.  (We need not return to the list of much larger obstacles that have presented themselves since then.)  But back to the vile shutters that looked like this:

There's something so...old about those boring brick-colored shutters that do absolutely nothing for the brick color of the house.  It all melted together in one awful conglomeration of blah.  And I may be many things, but blah is not one of them.  As such, I decided to leave Terra Cotta Town for the olive-toned territory of Walnut Grove.  Behold the great greenness:

It's like a new house.  Like I left behind moth balls and knitting nights for swinging 21st century living.  Or something like that.  Also, I clearly need to spend some time admiring my new shutters while raking. *Ahem*  And while I was at it, I had the deck stained to better match the house, too.

Perhaps part of the moving problem had to do with the atrocious exterior - the dated ill-chosen shutters that made me feel like I might be learning macrame and hanging velvet paint-by-numbers inside while wearing orthopedic shoes and sporting shapeless day dresses.  But now that we're in Walnut Grove, I think that I have found a befitting haven for my stilettos, pumps and flats that is retro chic instead of retro shack.