Scrape, Mud, Sand, Cry, Paint. Repeat.

So while Brian worked on the outside of our house, my job was the inside. Like most people, when first viewing our before photos, you may think there is very little work to do, but trust me when I say that the photos are extremely misleading.

I decided to begin with the bedrooms for a variety of reasons. First of all, I figured learning to scrape, mud, and sand walls would be a major learning process for me and if I were going to make mistakes I would rather have them in the bedrooms than in the front rooms. Also, the bedrooms appeared to need less work, and I really wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment sooner rather than later. Finally, we had most of our supplies set up in the front rooms, so the bedrooms were already empty and easier to cordon off then the front of the house. All in all, this was the right choice.

The first step in redoing the rooms was to decide whether we should start with the walls or the floor. The walls were lathe and plaster and had many, many, (so many *cry) cracks that would need to be fixed. The floors were absolutely covered in laminate glue and would need hours of sanding, staining, and sealing in order to be their best (if they would ever be their best, again). After reading different blogs and discussing options with the guys at Ace, we decided to start with walls.

Walls didn't seem like they were going to be that difficult. I knew they would be time consuming, since each layer of mud would need 24 hours to dry, but I thought I would have no trouble doing a step, or even two, a day (*oh, the innocence of the ignorant). Therefore my timeline was approximately 3 days a room, rapidly moving through the 5 steps for every crack: scrape, dust, tape, mud (repeatedly), sand. 

However, I quickly realized that those steps looked very different when I was performing them. And in reality, a room could take me a week, or even two. 

My steps were as follows:

Day 1: Scraping

1. Scrape out all cracks in just one room.
2. Feel that arm is going to fall off when you start ceiling. 
3. Realize ceiling has more cracks then all four walls combine. 
4. Sigh, repeatedly. (Not satisfying though, because no one hears your pain.)
5. Turn on a This American Life podcast and challenge yourself to finish entire ceiling by the time the episode is done. 
6. Repeat step 5 as many times as it takes to finish scraping ceiling.
7. Convince B to come help once it is too dark for him to work outside.
8. Celebrate the end of scraping (one room).

Day 2: Dusting/Taping

1. Vacuum/dust all debris out of newly scraped cracks.
2. Notice all debris is still in cracks. Try again.
3. Realize there is still freaking debris in cracks - curse at worthless shopvac, what is the point of stupid shopvac if it doesn't suck up debris?!?! 
4. Attempt dusting with damp cloth. (Youtube solution.)
5. Discover still more debris.
6. Determine that this is more of an optional step that you will now be opting out of. 
7. Take lunch break.
8. Begin placing joint-tape over cracks. 
9. Celebrate total mastery of this step.
10. Wish all steps were putting joint-tape over cracks.

Days 3-5: Mudding & Scrapping (1st, 2nd, and 3rd layers)

1. Slather mud (joint-compound) thinly over cracks. Do NOT mess up tape. 
2. When you do mess up tape, fight your tears, and apply again.
3. Let dry and scrape.
4. Slather mud over crack a second time. Spread it a little further out, but also keep it thinner so there is no hump.
5. Curse when small hump appears.
6. Curse again when you realize you have dried mud in your hair.
7. Let mud dry while you repeatedly wash hair.
8. Try to scrape down hump. Fail.
9. Repeat application of mud one more time, but even thinner. This may seem impossible (because it is), but this is what Youtube experts say to do. 
10. Pull trowel away from wall and admire. 
11. Experience admiration quickly turn to shock as you realize a small piece of invisible dirt was on your trowel and has now messed up all previous layers.
12. Get B to look at layers and tell you if it is as bad as you think it is.
13. Deal with tarnished layers. Embrace imperfection.

Day 6: Sanding

1. Lightly sand all layers.
2. Lightly sand, damn it! 
3. When you accidentally sand down to tape, realize you must mud again (all 3 layers!).
4. Go to kitchen, pour glass of wine, wander outside to watch B work, take deep breath, and return to room.
5. Re-mud.

Day 10: Done (Realize you are never done.)

1. Feel success that all cracks are now scrapped, mudded, and sanded. Room is ready to be painted.
2. Notice new crack. 
3. Cry. Let it out. 
4. Debate ignoring crack. 
5. Realize you'll never be able to forget stupid crack, if you don't fix it. Repeat all steps. 
6. Notice another damn crack. 
7. Tell B you're quitting and going to the bar.
8. Once at bar, watch a drunk, rather short, like we're talking 4 ft. woman, play recklessly with B's longboard until the bartender is forced to take it away from her.
9. Return home and ignore any new cracks that have suddenly appeared.

Day 12: Start again on the next bedroom room.

Eventually, after what seemed like an epic period of time, I managed to finish mudding the three bedrooms and it was time to paint. Painting was a breeze compared to the previous 5 steps. Although my arm was exhausted most days and my hair was completely white, I became quickly addicted to the paint sprayer and its smooth application. I also felt insanely hardcore, since I was wearing a respiratory mask, work gloves, and wielding a power tool. Hell yeah!

Finishing the painting was definitely a huge rush. Suddenly the rooms looked so fresh and new. All the cracks were hidden, even the imperfections, and I was gifted the feeling of accomplishment I had been craving since day 3. 

The final step of the bedrooms was to refinish the floors. We were nervous about beginning this step. Until we began sanding, we could convince ourselves that gorgeous floors existed under the layers of laminate glue, paint, and carpet nails, but once we actually began sanding, we would have to face reality. It was a nerve-racking time. 

After a short discussion, it was decided that B would do the actual sanding and I would be responsible for corners, hard to sand locations, and all other steps, beside using the orbital sander. We were really worried about the sander kicking up dust and ruining my perfect paint job, so I covered all the walls in the first room. (We quickly gave this up though, as there was little need.)

The first and second pass of the sander presented minimal change, but by the third pass gorgeous floors began to peak out and by the fourth or fifth passes we were ecstatic. The floors were better (and lighter) than we had ever imagined!

By the time B finished sanding the bedrooms, we could not contain our excitement. We were head over heels in love with our new floors. The final decision we now faced was choosing a stain. We went to the hardware store and bought a variety of tester cans. B wanted to go light - like ash colored or even white. I wanted to go a deeper pine or even a red. And, of course, we bought a dark stain too, just in case that would look best. 

We applied all of the stains to a piece of test pine and were disappointed across the board. None of the stains were a color we wanted. I argued for a clear coat. I loved all the different colors already in the floor, and I thought a clear coat might just bring them out in the way I imagined. B thought the floors were too yellow and feared that polyurethane would just make him like them less.

In the end though, he agreed to let me clear coat one room, since none of the stains were any better than my idea. The results of the polyurethane speak for themselves:

We loved them.

As I finished up each room, I granted myself a day of celebration. All throughout the painting, everyone had doubted my white walls. Some people thought I would never paint all the walls white, others thought I would do it and hate it, and still others simply thought it would look weird or bad. But in the end, I loved them. 

However, I am still me, and I still craved something different and unique, and so I decided to paint each of the doors to the bedrooms their own bright color. To make it easy,  I used the original wall color as inspiration. Therefore, the front bedroom, formerly magenta, received a pink door, the middle bedroom, formerly sea-foam, received a green door, and the back bedroom, formerly cream, received a turquoise door (because I hate cream and love turquoise).

The bedrooms were now complete and they were awesome. 

A Man in a VW Van

It’s so easy to judge a city by its outward appearance, by its reputation, and Beirut is no different. It is dirty and crowded. It was raining when our plane touched down, so our first walk through the streets involved murky water, muddy sidewalks and dripping awnings.

And Beirut’s reputation isn’t the best, either. People cautioned us to be careful when we bought our tickets. Tripadvisor warned us of the safety concerns and even the Department of State urged us to avoid all travel to Lebanon.

But the amazing thing about Beirut is that the city recognizes its reputation - its outward appearance - and is trying to combat it. The area we walked was teeming with examples of the citizens trying to beautify their city. The staircases were painted a myriad of colors and patterns. Every space that wasn’t a building or path was full of trees, bushes and vines. Art studios and museums peeked out between industrial warehouses. With just a few steps down an alley, I was transported from a grimy street to a gorgeous path full of shops, restaurants and bars.

In fact, Beirut is kind of like an optical illusion.

You could look at the walls of ripped posters and torn advertisements and see trash, litter, ugly or you could look again and see artistic endeavors, concerts, ideas, attempts to make the walls more striking.

You could look at the shutters on a closed shop and see peeling paint and fading color or you could look again and see someone’s attempt to brighten an empty building.

Graffiti fills the staircases, warehouse doors and alleyways. You could look at it and shake your head, disgusted that someone would write their thoughts on a wall or you could stop and read the thoughts and laugh or sigh at how poignant they are and think “isn’t that just the perfect line to stumble across, on my walk, right now?”

I definitely experienced the beautiful Beirut as I walked the streets. I saw a place trying to remake itself, a place trying to show its true colors.

I heard “bon jour” as I wandered down an alley and whispered it back, feeling very European. I was teased by a group of old men who sat in front of a shop smoking and scolded me “to buy things to treat myself”. I felt beautiful when people smiled at me and included when people waved. I felt a part of the city and it was totally unexpected.

The best moment, though, was after I had climbed one of the many painted staircases and ended up on a narrow, crowded, totally congested street. I lifted my camera, thinking I had to get a shot of the traffic in Beirut, as it is the craziest I have ever seen, and as I took off my lens cap, I saw a VW van, my dream car, a few cars back in the line.

I thought, “How perfect. I’ll get a shot of that van in the traffic.” But the cars started to move right then and I wasn’t focused. I sighed, thinking that I had missed the shot, but then realized the van wasn’t moving. The cars in front of it were gone, but it still sat there, in the middle of the street, waiting for me to photograph it. So I did, obviously.

I laughed to myself, not really knowing why the van hadn't moved, but feeling very fortunate. As I started to walk, the van cruised by, with the driver’s window rolled down. I looked at the driver, an old bearded man smoking a cigarette, and I smiled. He winked at me. I knew at that moment, that he had waited for me to take the photo. He had known what I wanted.

I felt so lucky, so in sync with the world. A man in a van stopped to let me take his photo and it totally made my day.

Before & After: Our Bedroom

I have always been a small bedroom type of gal. I like my bedroom to be just for sleeping and napping and chilling. I like it to be a serene, quiet place where no one will go unless they also plan to be silent. Luckily, B feels similarly.

When we first moved in to our apartment, our bed was located in a room that had a bathroom connected to it. This was my first time sleeping in a bedroom with a master bath and I quickly realized I hated it. Is there anything more embarrassing than having to use the bathroom in the night and wondering the whole time if your sleeping significant other is actually listening to you tinkle? And don’t even get me started on other bathroom possibilities. Yuck.

So when I began to rearrange and redecorate our apartment, I began trying to think of ways to make that bathroom off limits. But B’s practicality always prevailed…

Me: Let’s just shut that door and NEVER use that bathroom.

B: But that toilet has the most powerful flush.

Me: Yuck. Well, then fix the other two toilets, so we can shut that door and NEVER use that bathroom.

B: The toilet across the house is fixed, but it is too far away to walk to in the night, in the dark, when we have a toilet RIGHT HERE. (Gestures to toilet that can be seen from bed.)

Me: But that’s the problem, it is RIGHT HERE. (Now I gesture, but construing it as a negative thing.)

B: Seriously, babe, I am not going to walk across the house when I stumble out of bed at 2 in the morning. If you don’t want to see or hear me, then you are going to need to move our bed away from the bathroom. (He shrugs and leaves me to my plans.)

But honestly he had just given me a genius idea; I could move the bed into the office room. The office room has one small window and four walls. No bathroom, no noise and just large enough to fit one king size bed. Perfect.

Thus began the redecorating of our bedroom. First I replaced the curtains, because I genuinely hate mustard yellow – it is in my top 5 most hated colors ever. Next, I painted the walls gray – which I loved. It gave the room a very mellow vibe, good for sleeping, napping and relaxing. I decided to keep the walls mostly empty, except for right above the bed, where I created a small gallery wall of prints we had collected throughout our travels that year.

I hung my first ever shelf and placed a few books, a candle and vase upon it. The room looked great. I was so proud. Then B’s practicality came walking in.

B: You hung a shelf full of breakable things directly above where I sleep.

Me: I totally did! All by myself! Doesn’t it look great?

B: (Tugging on shelf.) It looks dangerous. Like it might kill me in my sleep. Is this screw stripped?

Me: Maybe. I messed up a bit, but it’ll stay up there.

B: (Lifting heavy vase.) This looks heavy. Seriously, are you trying to kill me? Why would you put glass candles and a heavy vase directly above my head?

Me: Stop worrying. And because it looks pretty. And it does look pretty. Admit it.

B: Yes, it looks nice. (Smiles.) Want to bet how long it takes the kitten to break everything on that shelf by dropping it on my head?

Me: No.

The final additions to the room were a standing mirror and a banner from our wedding. I hung the banner on the wall we would wake up to every morning. That way we could be reminded of our “much love”. I placed the mirror in the room because we have a very vain cat, and I knew she would love spending hours curled up on the corner of the bed, basking in the sunlight, admiring her beauty. And she does. That is basically where she spends the majority of her time now. (But, of course, she is a cat, so when I wanted a photo of it she hopped off and walked casually away -  such a very "cat" thing to do.)

Except for every Saturday morning, when she jumps on to the shelf above B’s head and drops books, candles and plants on him. Turns out we were both right: the shelf is dangerous, many things have been broken, but nothing has killed him, not yet.

Before: Our Apartment in Kuwait

It was recently pointed out that I have never really given a “before” home tour of our Kuwait apartment - the way it looked when we arrived. Since I am planning to do a “Before & After” of each room, I thought it might be fun to show where it all began.

The great/terrible thing about teaching abroad is that more often than not your salary includes a "furnished" living space. The great thing about this is that you don't have to try to find a place to rent in a foreign country where you may know little to none of the language (you also don’t have to pay rent). The terrible thing about this is that you have no choice in the matter, you get, what you get and you don’t, throw a fit. End of story.

B and I were very lucky upon moving to Kuwait. Since we were married we were eligible to live in the ‘family’ building and since we were hired early we received an apartment near the top of the building. Therefore, we walked into an 11^th floor, 3-bedroom, 3-bathroom apartment. It was huge. I thought we would never fill it. (Oh, how wrong I was.)

It came “furnished” with some essentials: a bed, two end tables, a couch, a loveseat, a chair, a (gorgeous) dining room table, two dressers, a coffee table, a TV stand (no TV), an oven, a fridge, a washer, and some cupboard space. Beside the bed and the table, everything was very mismatched and showed its age.

The furniture was situated throughout the house so as to give you an idea of what room was what. The dining room table was located as you walked in the front door, the kitchen was located down a hallway past that, as was the laundry room and a bedroom with a bathroom.

The other half of our large living space held the couches, end/coffee tables and TV stand. Beyond this space, was a room identical to the first bedroom, but with a bed in it, there was also a guest bath and a small room at the end that became known as the office. There were no closets in any of the rooms but there were these five ginormous, ugly, but practical, wardrobes.

The absolute best part of our apartment was the view. One wall of the living room was floor to ceiling windows. It was awesome. Even with the construction, the apartment buildings, the roads and the smog, the view was fantastic. Even better we could see the sea touching the sky. This view became the inspiration for the living room. I wanted to bring that sense of endlessness into our space.

The absolute worst part of our apartment was the color. Everything was a version of tan. The walls, the floors, the couches, the pine furniture, the curtains, it was like drowning in sand. I understood the logic, tan doesn’t show the sand that coats everything, but I knew I couldn’t live in this sea of tan. I needed color.

And so began the transformation…

If you like this post, then check out:
How to Make a House a Home
Before & After: My Craft Room
Before & After: Our Bedroom

Before & After: My Craft & Clothes Room

A few days ago I posted my 4 Simple Goals for 2014. It was exciting to post, because it forced me to start working toward them.  After a bit of reflection, I chose to start with number 2, because I love decorating and the idea of carving out a space just for me to create and lounge and work and play sounded amazing. It took 2 days and its not quite finished yet – I still need to add photos and art - but already I love it - and can’t seem to leave it.

My space is an odd shaped room in the back of the apartment. We have two rooms this shape, both with bathrooms coming off of them (B uses the other one for his hobbies, which can be quite messy). Originally, this was our bedroom, simply because that’s where the bed was when we moved in, but a few months ago, I decided to dismantle the bed and move it to a different room and that’s when this space became mine.

The first thing I did was paint the walls a bright white and replace the heavy mustard curtains with sheer white ones. I love how white brightens up a space and makes colors pop. It just inspires me.

Next, I hauled all the furniture I wanted into the room. The space is quite big, but not shaped well at all. The wall with the window is actually curved, so nothing can lay flat against it. I also have two giant, ugly wardrobes that I must keep in the room, because, as much as I hate them, they serve the necessary purpose of holding my clothes.

Once I had everything in the room, I began experimenting with arrangements. This took the better part of a day, with B occasionally wandering in and laughing at me as I tried to manhandle the enormous wardrobes into various positions. Finally, I managed to make them take up as little space as possible, and began the fun part – drilling.

Both B and I are so grateful he taught me the skills needed to drill into concrete. Thinking back to just 6 months ago, when I would have had to ask him to hang every shelf, picture frame and screw, makes us both shake our heads in disgust. That was never fun for either of us. Plus, there is just something so powerful about holding a pulsating drill in your hands and crushing through concrete. (I am WOMAN, hear me ROAR!)

The final step was to organize the mess that is my life. I boiled old Ikea candles and took the glass cups to hold bits and pieces. I found some fun bowls at a market and sorted my earrings and coins and rings. I draped my necklaces, scarves and hair accessories on hooks and hung all my dangly earrings on the window screen. I sorted my embellishments, strings and such into baskets a friend gave me.  The room began to look bright and colorful and fun. I threw myself on the couch and admired the effect. B, somehow sensing the end was near, stuck in his head and whistled.

So cheers to me. I have successfully produced a space I feel happy and creative in – now it's time to get messy.