jennsylvania

Just Call Me Mia - A Timeline

Move-in Day Last Year:  "So the bedroom drapes aren't exactly our style, but they're fine and they're custom-made and even though they look like they should line a coffin, Imma keep 'em because I'm cheap and practical."

The Rest of Last Year:  "Can't sleep, drapes will eat me."

Sunday After Thanksgiving:  "The Restoration Hardware Outlet's having a 20% off sale, making each curtain panel $25?  Seriously, Fletch, we must buy new drapes... for America."

Monday After Thanksgiving:  "Whoa, THIS is how much the hardware costs?  That's where they get you.  They screw you in the drive-thru.  They lure you in with $25 panels and then they shove eight million dollars worth of finials and round clips up your ass."

Last Thursday Afternoon:  "The cartons of hardware are here!  And half of them have busted open during shipping!  For eight million dollars, you'd think they'd have packaged them using something other than tissue paper and spite."

Last Thursday Night:  "Maybe Libby just tore the rest of the boxes open because she heard me complaining about how badly they were wrapped.  And you have to be a little bit impressed that she can carry around a six foot long oil rubbed bronze curtain rod, right?  Right?"

Last Saturday:  "HA, HA, HA, SEE YOU IN HELL, DEATH DRAPES!  Or, more likely, at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore.  Still, sayonara!"

Last Sunday:  "Now that the spackling is dry, we can patch the paint and be done?  New curtains hanging by tomorrow?  YAY!"

Monday:  "Oh, please, don't be ridiculous.  OF COURSE it's the same color beige.  That's why the old owners only left one can of it instead of two.  I mean, who's going to paint with two nearly identical shades of beige?  That's crazy talk!  Impossible and impractical.  I guarantee this is the right color.  No, you don't need to do a test patch first.  It's fine.  IT'S FINE.  Come on - you're burning daylight." 

Tuesday:  "It'll lighten up when it dries."

Wednesday:  "Clearly it's not dry yet.  It did rain earlier this week.  Just give it some time."

Thursday:  "Um..."

Friday:  "So I guess you're painting the bedroom today?"

This is why we didn't buy a fixer upper like my characters in If You Were Here. 

I imagine it would be hard to type having being impaled with a curtain rod.

This Month's Humor Hotel Column - Losing the Battle of the Sexes

I married a man who isn't afraid to wash a dish, scrub a toilet or have his unibrow waxed into submission by a licensed professional.

That's not because my husband, Fletcher, is so in touch with his feminine side, spending inordinate amounts of time sharing his feeeeelings over pints of Ben & Jerry's. Rather, we're fairly egalitarian with household duties and don't always subscribe to traditional gender roles. For example, I'm the primary breadwinner and he rarely watches televised sports or scratches himself inappropriately.

So, when the time came to paint the old dresser I've been storing in a damp basement for the past decade, I decided to do it myself.

Until I saw the spider.

Correction: spiders.

That's when I turned into a prototypical '50s sitcom wife, tottering around helplessly as though deeply encumbered by heels, a frilly apron and the right to vote. I outsourced the job to my husband, who seemed rather pleased to have a project that didn't entail fabric softener or a bottle of Mr. Clean.

"This will take, what two or three days?" I asked. "We've got leftover paint from the cabinets and a couple of brushes, so we should be all set."

Oh, if it were only that easy.

What I didn't realize at the time was that in tasking my husband with "man's work," I awoke a sleeping giant.

Before he could even begin to envision slapping a few coats on the dresser, he had to ready his workshop. Clearly the basement was too dusty for paint to properly adhere, which necessitated the purchase of an enormous, expensive shop vac.

After his workspace was sterile enough to perform your garden-variety tracheotomy, he realized he didn't have enough places to set things down. I suggested perhaps he use the now-immaculate floor. He laughed, yet I wasn't joking.

Instead, he invested in a hammer drill to hang studs on the concrete basement walls. Then he mounted pegboards on the studs and loaded them up with tools artfully displayed by make, size, and shape. Dissatisfied with his handiwork, he took all the tools down to paint the pegboards. My suggestion of, "Why not hit the dresser while you've got the brushes out?" fell on deaf ears.

Workshop complete, Fletch disassembled the dresser and began to sand. He didn't care for the job the orbital sander did, declaring the need for a disc sander.

"How much does that cost?" I asked.

"You can't put a price on a job well done," he said.

"Um, when it's a $50 dresser you can."

But the disc sander worked well. In fact, it worked so well that Fletch smoothed out some parts meant to stay pointy, which required the purchase of a table saw.

"You need a saw? To paint?" I demanded.

"All part of the process," he assured me, while lovingly assembling a machine costing roughly the same amount as my first year of college.

"Wait a minute," I said, recalling the dismemberment stories he'd shared about his father, uncles, and maternal and paternal grandfathers. "Don't you come from a long line of nine-fingered Fletchers?"

"Everyone gets 10. That way you have some extras," he replied.

To date, he's forked out more than $2,000 on this project and that's without factoring in the cost of three weeks' labor. For a dresser that's still in a dozen pieces and has yet to see a single drop of primer.

I suspect this has all been an elaborate ruse to get out of doing laundry.

Next time? I'm just going to paint over the spiders myself.

COPYRIGHT ©2011 JEN LANCASTER DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.

UPDATE FROM WHEN I WROTE THIS ON 2/18:

The dresser isn't done but the good news is we now own a jigsaw and some kind of industrial hairdryer that removes veneer and makes the house smell like a campfire. 

At this point, the project has morphed into absurdist performance art and the finished dresser is Godot. 

And Godot is never coming. 

But Fletch did fold some laundry last night.  So there's that.

Old House Love

Quick confession?  I'm addicted to nesting blogs. 

ADDICTED. 

I never thought I'd be interested in two thousand words on the deliberation between three shades of gray paint, but guess what?  Totally am.

(You're all reading Young House Love, right?  Seriously, I could not adore these people more and am awed by what they do on a shoestring budget.  Truly amazing.)

(By the way, if you are not interested in two thousand words about various shades of blue, you may want to skip this post.)

A couple of months ago, my college roommate Joanna and I met up with our friend Wendy who was in the middle of a total kitchen rehab.  We had coffee and spent an hour an a half poring over faucet choices and countertop samples, and, truth?  We were riveted.  At one point I turned to Joanna and said, "When we were knee deep in beers and fraternity boys, did you ever think one day we'd be so enamored by a discussion about subway tile?"  (FYI, Wendy's new kitchen is breathtaking, so score one for paying attention to detail.) 

Anyway, you know how everyone has one terrible room in their house?  The close-the-door-and-please-don't-go-in-there spot?  I had one of those and I've been working diligently to fix it.  But before I share the afters, let me show you the befores from the real estate brochure:

 
This is one half of the room - it's connected to the other half by a skinny corridor.

 

I wish the detail were better on these so you could grasp the full horror of the eight thousand blue bows running up and down the walls.

(I just fixed a typo in the line above.  I'd written "blue blows."  Freudian slip?)

When we moved in, the first thing we did was hire some guys to strip the paper and paint the walls.  I picked a nice, soothing green that wouldn't make the carpet any louder and redid the cream trim in white because it felt cleaner.  And the room looked better, but not good by any stretch of the imagination, particularly as it was filled with a bunch of random bits of furniture.

My challenge was to make this room a place I'd enjoy spending time, while sticking to a budget (damn you mortgage, taxes, and insurance.)  I had to keep the space dog friendly as this is where they all sleep.  I would LOVE to tear up the Cookie Monster blue shag carpet and install wide-plank, dark stained hardwood, but that's not happening this year.

My style is a lot more traditional than what you'd see on most design blogs.  Plus, we bought a Williamsburg Colonial and anything too modern would just look weird in here.  I like lots of color and texture and if somehow the room feels beachy?  All the better.

Now this is what the first part of the room looks like when you walk in:

 
Improvement, right?

I wanted a regular bed but decided a daybed made more sense because we already have a place for guests to sleep.  And that way I could go with the far less expensive 8-inch daybed cushion rather than a mattress proper.  Because I wouldn't have to spend anything on linens, comforters, etc. I bought nicer pillow covers at Pottery Barn during their 20% off sale and was able to re-use some of the pillow fillers I already had. 

I already owned the rug and was pleased to be able to repurpose it.  The pictures above the bed are circa 1997 from Pier 1 and they were the first bit of "grown up" art I'd ever bought when I got my first place in Chicago.  The wall mirror is something I had to buy for a bathroom two houses ago, as is the one laying flat on the dresser.

 
Maybe in your house you don't have a mirrored display of heart shaped rocks and a wedding photo where you're flipping off your brother behind two pots full of moss.

But maybe you should.

Looking back into the room from the hallway you can see where we keep Libby's crate: 

 
Between the blackout curtains and the blanket, she's sleeping a lot later now.  (This is KEY.)

As for the curtains, I got those during PB's curtain sale specifically because they had drapery loops on the back.  Eventually I'd like to get a more decorative rod and some privacy blinds, but I was very keen on being able to re-purpose the hardware that had been in the room.

(And yes, I realize copying an entire page of a Pottery Barn catalog is no real stretch in terms of design.) 

(I felt that should be noted.)

Where I started having fun was on the book shelf.  My friend Blackbird has the coolest house in that everything she has on display tells a story, so that's what I wanted to do here on this set of shelves I got at the Crate & Barrel outlet six years ago.

 
I used a bunch of knickknacks and photos I already had and grouped them in color stories.  And come on, wedding photo placed on top of The Art of War book?  Hilarious!

Moving on to the other part of the room...

 
I already had this bed and I really like how it echoes the daybed.  The desk is from the Crate & Barrel outlet in the late 90s and all the art is IKEA, circa 2000.  At some point I'll put them in proper frames with real matting, but for now, I think they're fine.  If you'll notice, the blues I used are so powdery, they actually make the rug look more blue-gray and less like a muppet.

I tied both parts of the room together with matching lamps from the Restoration Hardware outlet store's post holiday sale and at some point, we have plans to paint the dresser, mirror, and nightstand white and replace the pulls.  I refinished them from a rusty-brown varnish about ten years ago, but I'm ready for something more updated.

By the way, I mentioned dog-friendly?  I keep a bench at the end of the bed so Maisy can climb up, there are ugly, squashy doggie beds in the corners, and there's nothing in here that can't be tossed in a washing machine.

 
So that's it for now. 

I'll add more decoration as I run across stuff I like and maybe some crown moulding.  I have plans to rearrange some pieces once Fletch finishes painting this old piece of baby furniture:

 

All I wanted was a quick coat of paint and maybe a sillouette on the door when I asked him to get started a month ago.  (Yes, I plan to put a bird on it.)  The story of updating this fifty-dollar dresser is the subject of next week's Trib column, but as a quick hint, let's just the refinishing process has cost not only more than the entire sum of what I've spent updating this room, but also a portion of my sanity. 

And did you know painting a dresser requires the purchase of a table saw?

 
Believe it.

Tune in next week for my column and an awesome giveaway featuring my friend Wade's newest!

Country Mice Vs. City Rats

My favorite thing to do up here is to walk the yard after a snowfall to see all the fresh animal tracks.

 
At some point late last night or early this morning, a family (herd? pride? pack? posse? crew? what's the word?) of deer cut through the woods on either side of my driveway.

 

 

 

 
Back in Logan Square, I used to engage in a similar ritual, only I checked for rat tracks and footprints. 

Discovering those prints, particularly around my doors and windows, was a lot less fun.

Last spring when we still planned to buy our city rental, I ran across a website that changed my entire life.  There's a sweet autistic kid in the Logan Square/Avondale neighborhood who wants to be a 911 operator when he graduates, so he spends his free time listening to a police scanner and documenting emergency calls.  Before reading his blog, I never knew exactly how much shit was going down around me and the fact that we lived there for two years without being victims of a crime is astounding.

However, shouting, shovel-weilding, and obtrusively photographing ne'er-do-wells proves to be an excellent deterrent to crime. 

Unfortunately, it's also a deterrent to meeting nice neighbors. 

But you know what?  I've already got plenty of friends and I only have one plasma television. 

The crime blog is what prompted us to move away from the city and it's the best decision we've ever made.  Yes, I miss being close to my friends, I hate how the streets roll up at 8:00 PM, and it's an enormous pain to sit in traffic for up to two hours to get into the city for a night out, but that's the trade-off. 

Anyway, even though I've lived up here since August, I can't stop reading what this kid has to say as I'm addicted to hearing about what's going on in my absence.  Or maybe I'm not "addicted" so much as I am "a dick" because I can't stop comparing that crime blog to the crime blotter up here.

For example, the day after this happened up here (all reports excerpted from the police blotter of the Lake Forest Patch)...

A witness reported finding a black and silver girls Trek mountain bike in the 1200 block of Edgewood Nov. 23. The bike was transported to the station for safekeeping.

... there were two reports of battery and one person with a gun.

And in the time period this was happening up here:

An officer responded to the 100 block of Moffet Road following a phone report of a stray dog Nov. 26. Upon returning the dog to the homeowner, the officer found the front door open. The officer found no signs of forced entry and checked the interior of the home. The officer woke up the homeowner who said there had been trouble with the front door.

... there were two burglaries, three landlord/tenant disputes that go so heated the police had to intervene, a handful of narcotics busts, and one report of a guy wanted for homicide spotted at Diversey and Kilbourn.

But that's not to say things don't get dicey out here.  In fact, there was a home invasion recently...

An officer responded to the 400 block of Oak Ridge Court to remove a squirrel from inside the home Nov. 24. The officer was able to capture the squirrel and release it outside.

Of course, a few days later, someone found a body in the alley not far from my old place which... yeah.  Not funny, just tragic and horrific and terrifying and exactly why we chose to get the fuck out of the city.

When I wrote Such A Pretty Fat, I included the line, "Give me Libertyville or give me death?  I choose death."

As it turns out, Libertyville's not so bad.

By the way, if you determined any of the above are rat tracks?

Kindly keep that information to yourself.

 

The Elephant In The Living Room

At some point I'm going to learn to make announcements prior to the last minute.

Today is not one of those days.

But so you know, my friend Stacey Ballis is doing some book signings this week and Fletch and I will be there.  Okay, maybe Fletch won't be at the second one, but he's definitely coming tonight as he's currently in the middle of a steamy bromance with Gina's boyfriend. 

Here are the specifics:

Tuesday September 14
7pm
Reading/Signing
Barnes and Noble Webster Place
1441 W. Webster
Chicago IL
773-871-3610

Thursday September 16
7:30pm
Reading/Signing
Barnes and Noble Old Orchard
55 Old Orchard Shopping Center
Skokie IL
847-676-2230

Friday September 17
7pm
Emcee for the Annual Grown Up Spelling Bee (yep, a spelling bee.  with prizes.  there may be slots available, so call and sign up!)
The Book Cellar
4736 N Lincoln Ave
Chicago IL
773-293-2665

I won't actually be at the spelling bee one as I have to go to court that day regarding the idiots who tried to break into my house.  (Related story - after this happened, my friend Caprice emailed me and was all, "YOU ALMOST GOT ROBBED?" to which I replied, "No, two morons almost got shot.  Big difference.") 

(I imagine this is not a story I will share with the judge.)

Anyway, as you know, I've moved.  I may have mentioned this a couple of hundred times.  However, I haven't said much about the house and that's been intentional.  The thing is, it's tough sledding out there for a lot of people right now.  Many folks aren't buying new homes so much as they are trying desperately not to lose their old one.   If they aren't in short sale or foreclosure, they're underwater on their mortgage or in a situation where a mortgage isn't even a distant possibility. 

Trust me, I know what that's like; I've been there. 

In regard to this house, I don't want to be all, "And this!  Could be yours!  If you were me!"

I'd rather just share the funny stuff, ergo today I'm rolling out...

THE GALLERY OF UNFORTUNATE WALLPAPER

When we ran across our house on the MLS, we immediately wrote it off.  We didn't want to see it and I put "the wallpaper will haunt my dreams" in the comments section.  But eventually we switched realtors and our new lady brought us here.  And although we still hated the wallpaper, she helped us look past it to see an impeccably maintained home, with solid construction and a new roof and a yard the dogs would love. 

So here we are.  Now let's get on with the show.

Did I say elephant in the living room?  I meant elephant in the great room.

Yeah, it's a curtain and not wallpaper but I felt it had to be seen.  Also, the more I live with this piece, the more it charms me.  These curtains are pulling me in... not unlike the light in Poltergeist.

Also, in terms of curtains, I'd be remiss if I didn't say that I like these in the master.

Not bad, right?  Pretty matchy-matchy with our stuff, too. 

(BTW, I'm sorry about how blurry the photos are.  I think I got my iPhone sweaty yesterday when I was outside.) 

(Also not pictured, enormous muddy paw prints all over the duvet.  Loki likes to get wet, dig for chipmunks, and then jump on the beds.  It's AWESOME.)

Anyway, this is where the curtains go a bit off the rails.

 You would think I'd be all over pink and green striped balloon valances.  You would be wrong.  Just because I collect Barbies doesn't mean I want to live in her Dream House.

Now we'll move onto the first paper you see once you walk in.

This isn't so awful, except that it's frigging everywhere - in the foyer, down the hall to the bedrooms, down the hall to the kitchen, up the stairs, and in the loft area.  And for the record, I don't own a single thing that matches powder blue flowers.

Hey, at this point of the tour is anyone hungry?  What would you prefer? 

Raspberries? 

Perhaps some kind of game bird? 

Fortunately in my dining room, you don't have to choose.

Again, this is some of the stuff that made me bark with laughter when I first saw it, but now at night the room almost takes on a certain glow and... the light, Jen!  Run away from the light!

Besides, if I want birds, I can always step into the master bath.

Pretty tame comparatively, right?  I think so, too.  Expect this to stick around for a while. 

The next couple of entries aren't so bad either on their own, but when you put them together with everything else... I'm not sure I understand the statement they were making as a whole.

Unless that statement is, "Let's see how much unrelated wallpaper we can slap on these walls."

This is the upstairs guest bath.

In the context of the rest of the room, it works.  For now.

And this is the laundry room.

The walls don't have pink spots.  I think that's a function of my sweaty iPhone. 

Were it not for the stupid border, I'd be fine with this bathroom's paper, too.

However, this room becomes less okay when you see the related bedroom wallpaper.

What prompts a person to say, "You know what this room needs?  Eight thousand powder blue ribbons repeating all over the walls." 

Please feel free to do your best Nancy Kerrigan impersonation here, crying, "Whhhhhhyyyyyyy?   Whhhhhhyyyyyyyy?   WWWWHHHHHHHHYYYYYY?"  I know I have. 

Also, not pictured?  The two inch thick Cookie Monster blue shag carpeting.

Now, you epileptics in the group might want to avert your eyes for this.

Staring at this, I can see through time.

Yet to get the full effect, you need to check out the border, too.

The room is so visually stimulating that it's hard to keep ones balance while using the powder room.  I tell girls to spot the border and boys to stare at the towels.  So far no casualties, but it was touch and go for a minute on Labor Day.

Seriously, those beige birds are looking pretty good right now, aren't they?

And finally, for those who didn't believe me when I mentioned that the kitchen wallpaper was covered in monkeys perpetrating hate crimes against Asian men...

As for this stuff?

The light is dangerous!  Don't go near it!  Don't even look at the light!

Too late. 

I already love it.

Anyway, hope to see you guys tonight or Thursday. 

You'll recognize me because I'll be the gal holding paint swatches.