Striking Back: Kiss My Brass

The mother has a penchant for gold. Gold accents. Gold leaf. Polished brass accessories and fixtures. For the most part, I think I must be genetically predisposed to liking them.

A major departure lies ahead in the kitchen though where brushed nickel will be replacing the brass. (The brass does look weird with all that stainless steel in there.) It’s definitely the right choice, too.

But, in the bathroom, we’re not losing our brass shower door enclosure nor the porcelain/brass fixtures on the pedestal sink.

In fact, the new shower fixtures are a nice complement to the new white tub surround. (The old one was an almond/beige color.) And, the handle matches the sink's.

So I get mighty tired of hearing the design “experts” *sarcasm* automatically decry anything gold as “outdated.” And I’ve seen this happen a lot lately. And it has annoyed the hell out of me. (Obviously.)

What they have to understand is that some people like brass finishes. I’m not a huge fan of rubbed bronze but I’ve seen some rooms with faucets in that finish that I thought were quite pretty. Just because it's not what I'd pick, doesn't make it outdated. It’s all a matter of personal taste.

And, there are people like me who loathe shower curtains. I think they are just drapes for germs to hang out on. Not just the ones to catch the water, but also the decorative ones these experts seem so fond of hanging around the tub and allowing to puddle onto the floor. (Do you really want MATERIAL draped day after day on the floor in a bathroom? Not me.)

I nearly blew a vein when the mother wanted to put a black drape up in there. During the bathroom wallpaper stripping, I managed to rid it of the black curtain bar that was in there so I certainly hope we’re past that phase!

I happen to like our "outdated" brass-edged doors and enclosure. And not just for its looks; I find it more sanitary. I can spray foam cleaner on it. I can take the steamer to it. I can spritz it with Lysol. No shower curtain could withstand that for long and still keep looking good. And I happen to like our new fixtures. (Though I’ll like them a lot better when we get whatever replacement parts we need to make them work properly.)

The historic look of brass and the combo of brass and porcelain on the handles will provide a perfect “pop” for the black and white contrast the bathroom will ultimately sport.

Go ahead and think it’s outdated if you want. I don’t care.

So there, HGTV/DIY designers. You can kiss my brass!

A Brickyard Throwdown?

DIY isn’t for everybody. I’ll be the first person to admit that because sometimes, I don’t even think it’s for me.

Most people I know are complimentary of the work I do. They’re very supportive and encouraging. They decry their own abilities when it comes to doing similar things at their own homes. Truth is, I think most of them could do it if they really wanted or needed to. But, they neither need nor want to. It’s just not their thing. I respect that.

Some people, however, can be just plain rude. Last year, while painting the house, I came dangerously close to b*tch-slapping a former colleague whose contribution to a conversation I was having with another colleague about the project, was: “Can’t you just pay someone to do that?” And it was uttered in the snidest of tones.

I wanted to reply with an equally acidic response (pointing out the fact that not everyone makes what she does, and she has a second equally large source of income in her house, to boot) but bit my tongue. I instead calmly said that I don’t like to pay people to do things I can do myself. That leaves that much more in resources available to do other projects or to pay for having things done that are way out of my league. Because, that really is the truth.

Then, over the weekend, there were two more contrasting opinions. First, my neighbor’s girlfriend came over. “That’s looking great,” she said. “I know it’s a lot of work.” Later, as I was wrapping up, one of the “neighborhood walkers” as I call them offered me his two cents. “Kind of taking you a long time, isn’t it?”

The tone took me right back to last year’s slight. Yet, I remained polite. I agreed, acknowledging that masonry, after all, wasn’t my day job. (I mean except for putting up the fence, every minute of available time has gone into this project. Should I set up floodlights and work at night? Hmmmmm …. that’s an idea!)

“Then maybe you ought to let one do it.” His tone dripped with snideness and disdain.

Oh no he didn’t! Even if he thought I was doing the crappiest job he’d ever seen, he did not just say that to me. My dander was not only up, it was doing back-flips. This dude is spoilin' for a brickyard throwdown. (I’ve been wanting to use that word since Ann’s post last week!)

“Are you volunteering?” I asked. “Because if you are, I could use a mason’s help, though I’m sure my rates are a lot more reasonable. And if you aren’t volunteering, talk is cheap. Very cheap. Effort, now that costs a little more. So I’d put a little effort into continuing my walk.”

I don’t know where it came from. (I obviously stunned him. Hell, I stunned myself. ) The look on his face was priceless. He kind of harrumphed and resumed walking. I'd made my point with a limited amount of rudeness.

DIY isn’t pretty. It’s messy. It’s time-consuming. It’s costly. And it can be bad for your health if you put your two cents into the wrong project.

(Particularly if you deposit them in earshot of a feisty little woman who is burning up, exhausted and starving – and has an assortment of sharp handtools within easy reach. Not to mention hundreds of bricks.)

A Little Humor, DIY Style

It was a pretty good day at work. It’s Friday. The sun is shining (for now, anyway). And I’ve been a little on the giddy side for much of the afternoon. Not sure what the reason, but it’s a welcome feeling just the same. For the record, alcohol was not involved!

On that note, I thought it appropriate to break out some light-hearted DIY material.
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Some time ago, I ran across this You Tube video of Weird Al doing a song called “I’ll Repair For You.” It’s a parody of the Friends’ theme song performed by The Rembrandts. The lyrics are hilarious and sound like a day around This D*mn House!
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Long before I started the blog, I got an email with these photos in it on the hazards of hauling. As luck would have it, they’re making the rounds again! As many times as we have hauled tons of stuff home – and still do – in the Thunderbird, I had to smile. But even I wouldn’t try this. Elaine, please don’t let your husband talk you into this one!
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Earlier this year, before I even revived the blog, I was talking to a friend about the movie Baby Boom with Diane Keaton. (Very cute movie.) Somehow, we also started talking about Under the Tuscan Sun with Diane Lane. As the conversation wound down, my friend made a very keen observation: “You realize,” she said, “That you relate to those movies because they’re both about single women and both have a house project as a major subplot.” Oh. Yeah. I knew that. *disguising shock with smugness*

For weeks after that, I tried to think of other movies that have building a house or remodeling a house as a key theme. Most are comedies. This is what I came up with:

The Money Pit
Are We Done Yet?
Life As a House
Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House
Please Don’t Eat the Daisies
Father of the Bride Part II

(Technically, the first two of these are based on Mr. Blandings … Can you think of others? Feels like I’m missing something obvious.)

Toys for DIY Girls & Boys

Fighting through the throngs of people at not one, but two, grocery stores notwithstanding, I didn't do much Thursday night. I was tired (and deservedly so after porch work both Tuesday and Wednesday nights).

So there I was with my laptop (like always) watching TV. Flipping channels, I stumbled across DIY's Cool Tools show. OMG! How could I not know this existed? (I know. I'm an idiot!) The world was probably a much safer place before I knew. I've never seen the show Home Improvement, but I'm told that I am the embodiment of the Tim Allen grunt when it comes to buying tools. I'm telling you it's a genetic defect. Clothes-shopping does not do this for me.

Even if it's stuff you'd never use -- or never think you would -- it's at least good to know what's floating around out there. The site has a continuous video stream of new products in addition to info on all the stuff you may have seen on one of the shows. Last night, I happened upon the episode from the 2007 Hardware Show. (Man, I'd be dangerous at a place like that.)

Three things I really liked -- and may well buy -- were:

• The EZClean paintbrush which quite literally cleans itself. And if you're like me, cleanup is the worst part of painting!
• The BaseMate ladder leveling system which makes sure your ladder has two legs to stand on in awkward spots.
• The Power Pull Leverage Hammer to deal with those really stubborn nails.

You can find info on these and other exceptionally interesting products at the Cool Tools Store.

I'll definitely be checking it out again. It's on DIY every Thursday at 9 and 9:30 p.m. ET.

Waxing Nostalgic

My morning commute takes me around the edges of the town where I grew up. It was a lot like growing up in Mayberry RFD. Everyone knew everyone or was somehow related. You could leave even the most valuable of things on the porch or in the yard – they’d still be there the next day. You didn’t DARE do anything to cause trouble in the next block. Your parents would know about it before you even got home.

As an adult, I’ve heard all the stories about its real-life Peyton Place melodramas, but even in my early childhood of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, it still had a degree of the innocence that was present when my mom grew up there, her mother grew up there, and even her mother before her grew up there.

The place was never a haven for the ultra-rich, though there were a handful of rambling, historic homes. Today, the few that remain are not only shadows of their former selves, they’re barely homes at all. Mostly, there are vacant lots where they once stood. Even the smaller, quaint homes, many of which were immaculate when I was a kid, with lawns to match, have been reduced to boarded up shacks, or, in many cases, more overgrown vacant lots. The home that I grew up in is a few blocks off the main drag so I never see it. I’m glad.

In fairness, some of the homes still look quite nice. In fact, some look better than they ever did. But these are in the minority. Many days, I can’t bring myself to look as the bus rolls through. I occupy myself with a book or else I cat nap. It’s too depressing.

On days when I drive to meet the bus across town, I also go through an area that was once the gem of our locale. If you lived in the town where I do now, a few towns north of my childhood town, the “park district” was one of the only places to live. Its perimeter begins in what was once a thriving downtown. A downtown that, more than 20 years ago like so many other downtowns across smalltown America, succumbed to Wal-Mart and the advent of the strip mall. A downtown that looks very much like my childhood community now does. A downtown where the bus terminal, built just a few years ago on the site of what was a historic theater, is the nicest place around.

Sadly, block by block, the neighborhood around it has been disintegrating. And like a rampant virus, its reaches have expanded to blight more and more blocks.

Lately, though, as you get a few blocks from that formerly thriving little shopping district, a change seems to be in the works. Homes are being restored – and not just by those who are looking to flip them for a quick profit or use as rental property.

There are some grand homes in this neighborhood, many with historic roots, and bearing plaques that designate them as such. But in recent years, even those homes have been on the decline as many of the people who would have enforced their historic status have moved away. Mom and I talk about this a lot. It makes us sad.

Then, as the weather started changing a few months ago, I saw the beginnings of a transformation. Scaffolding going up in one block. Concrete being poured in another. Paint being applied to gingerbread on a big old Vic in the next. Dumpsters sprang up, followed by a parade of siding, roofing, and tuckpointing company trucks. Many of the older homes – and even a few of the newer ones – started getting facelifts.

Last week, I spied a moving van in the driveway of one of the older, grander, and recently updated homes. I smiled as I saw that things were being carried in, not out. (Extremely heartening in an area where nearly every edition of the local paper has at least two entire pages of foreclosure notices.)

Tonight, as I drove home from the terminal, I passed that same house. A baby toddled through the yard. A young man was watering a freshly planted flowerbed. A woman, presumably his wife, was picking up the tools they’d just used. They looked up as I passed. I smiled and waved. Somewhat quizzically, they smiled and waved back.

Welcome to the neighborhood, folks. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.

A Moment of Gratitude

You see a lot of complaints in this blog. In all likelihood, you'll see a whole lot more in the future. I try to temper these though with the many wonderful things that happen.

Unfortunately, the good stuff tends to get shortchanged because the negatives usually arrive in herds.( I think I can speak for the houseblogging brethren in particular when I say that. It seems the harder you try to change, repair, or complete something in your house, the more roadblocks pop up.) I think it's all a part of the package that comes with owning a home.

DIY is tough. And many of you know all too well that those jobs you don't do yourself can also be riddled with pitfalls, usually embodied within those hired to do the job.

But even saying that, I'm grateful for all that I have and all that we've been able to achieve.

There's an incredible sense of accomplishment to being able to point to any aspect of a room in your home or on its exterior and say, "I did that." I'm proud to say -- and grateful to be able to say it -- that I own my home. There are many people who never will. Some people who once did are losing theirs as we speak.

I'm grateful for the people who have patiently shown me how to do something, or else guided me through a needed correction when I did it wrong on my own the first time.

I'm grateful for those workmen who have been hired that have done the job correctly, in a timely way, and at a fair price.

I'm grateful that some of the worst of tasks have almost always not been as bad as they seemed, many of them coming with a silver lining.

I'm grateful for neighbors who have been kind enough to loan me tools, donate spare materials, encourage me, and occasionally mow my lawn when I've been in a project up to my eyeballs.

And finally, I'm grateful for this blog. It's given me room to rant and a way to stay sane. It has also introduced me to a whole new world of individuals (whether they be housebloggers or not), people I wouldn't otherwise "know" -- and what a loss that would be.

It's given me a portal through which to peer into their worlds. It has given me a cool new way to communicate with all these wonderful new people, as well as with that grand ole gang I've known for a lifetime. Collectively, you are a source of comic relief, valuable information, and much appreciated support.

So, thanks for sharing your worlds with me and for stopping by to visit and share mine.

Your Life In Just Six Words

Legend has it that Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Some say he called it his best work. Others dismiss the anecdote as a literary folktale. Either way, the six-word story was born, and it's been popping around the writing world for years. So begins the introduction to Not Quite What I Was Planning, Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure.

The book is exactly what its name says. It's a collection of six-word memoirs (yes, just six words to summarize your life) from people you've heard of like Stephen Colbert and Joan Rivers and a lot of people you probably never have. These lifetime synopses range from the comic, to the clever, to the tragic.

It's tough to get me to smile early on a Monday morning, much less laugh, but I did both repeatedly after cracking the cover on this book today. Happened upon it at the library in the new releases (just came out in February) and am using it to keep my daily bus commute amusing. There's plenty of light-hearted, six-word humor that a DIY-er could relate to. Try this one: Made a mess. Cleaned it up.

Or this one: Boy, if I had a hammer. Or this gem: Anything's possible with an extension cord. (Ain't it the truth?!)

I'm nearly halfway through the book and I think my favorite so far is one I can truly relate to (and many of you can, too): Now I blog and drink wine.

And to all my Catholic school chums, some of whom have kids of their own in Catholic school, there's this one: Catholic school backfired. Sin is in!

Want to try your hand at your own six-word memoir? Here's a few I'm considering:

• Lifetime Struggling With This D*mn House
• Loved. Lost. Got a Yorkshire Terrier.
• J.K. Rowling Beat Me To It.
• Sometimes There Just Aren't Enough Rocks. (If you've seen the movie Forrest Gump, particularly more than once, you'll get this.)
• Best Friends Made It All Worthwhile.