Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Homemaking- our remodel revealed

I married an artist.
He married a nester.
Between the two of us we can't leave good enough alone. Every unattractive things makes us almost giddy. We are fixer-uppers. Ugly is just a chance for transformation. He wields the power tools. I nod and point, like I am being helpful.
I tell him what colors and textures will work. He doubts me until he agrees with me.
We are having fun doing something completely impractical.
This isn't about resale.
This isn't about entertaining.
This isn't about portfolios or bottoms lines.
This is about high-fiving each other at the end of the day and saying, "I love this home we built together."
And that, really, has very little to do with the colors or textures or power tools. That is all about the people and the love in our four walls.
But while we're working on building the love, we're working on building the style, too.

How we found it six years ago:

Buying a home takes vision. We had to erase everything we saw and just keep the walls. Okay, most of the walls. The home we chose was beautiful and pristine and well kept. It was lovely. It just wasn't... us. And when you just can't leave well enough alone you have to make something your own.

Our home the day we moved in 2009:

Traditional kitchen circa 2009:

traditional living room circa 2009:

The front room that is supposed to be a dining room but we don't do dining rooms so we didn't know what it was circa 2009:

Fast Forward to 2015:


We took out the old oak planks, put down six inch hickory floors, painted the cabinets, installed frosted glass in the front of the upper cabinets, installed stainless steel countertops, a rock backsplash, new lighting fixtures, and a bank of floating, live edge shelves for our every day dishes.

Our Living Room:
We tore out the fireplace wall, did a solid stone wall, painted, and put in hickory floors

Our non-dining room:
There is nothing formal about us. We walk around the block barefoot and kiss other people's babies. We love eating our meals in the kitchen and want our guests to feel like one of the family. In the old dining room we tore up the white carpet, installed hickory floors, painted the walls, and turned it into a living room with a television and piano for our little ones and a cat tower for our four legged family member.

We still have a huge to-do list of projects remaining: bathrooms, staircase, landscaping, basement. But it is all just for fun. We do it because the feeling of seeing potential where others don't, making beauty where others wouldn't, is just a little addictive. There are a million things I can't do- sew button holes, quilt, make gourmet jams, get my eyeliner right- but  for me, this is one thing I feel like I can get right if I keep trying. 
 It's not a fashionable title to say you are a homemaker. You don't get  any sexy points or looks of admiration, but I honestly don't understand why.

In my book there is nothing we crave more than a true home. A place where we belong. A place we understand. A place where we feel safe. A homemaker is someone who creates that out of nothing. Someone who transforms sawdust and wires and cement into memories and birthday parties and family dinners and bedtime stories. For every moment I spend trying to make my home look good,  I hope I spend a thousand moments making it feel good. And if you are doing that, I think your home is beautiful! 
And to tell the complete truth, I would take a one room sod house in a heart beat if this was what I came home to every day: