Don’t let it kill you, baby, don’t let it get to you…*

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*Lyrics from Tom Petty And The Heartbreaker’s 1981 hit The Waiting (is the hardest part).

Client Renovation: end of Week 1 and days 6 & 7 (if you missed the beginning of this tale, read about it here and here.)

Yeah, that’s right, I went old-school with my song lyrics today. But that’s because it fit too well. This past week, or rather 5 days spread across two work weeks, has been about waiting, primarily. Waiting for phase 1 to be complete, waiting for plumbers to arrive (which they finally did, but not without breaking promises to show up at least 3 times), and waiting for the electrical to be completed (which happened in a timely manner, but over a couple of visits due to a nasty cold). Waiting IS the hardest part. Mostly.

read on…

Obligation, complication, routines and schedules drug and kill you…*

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*Lyrics from Radiohead’s Little By Little from The King of Limbs album. Clearly, I’m obsessed. Try here for the remix. Also clearly, I have some more music shopping to do.

Days 2 & 3: Client Renovation

As predicted by Dave and Team Carpentry, demo and framing was done in two days. A full crew, fully caffeinated, fully focused and fully drenched in sweat ripped apart that room revealing ancient (ok, more like 90+ years old) lathe that was in good enough condition to be able to affix new drywall to. A bonus since that’s what Dave had hoped for. Also discovered (and expected, but not hoped for) non-plumb, non-level spots on the salvageable walls that will definitely make things trickier to install down the road. But, all in all, a successful two days of cleaning out the old to make way for the new.

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You’re on a roll and now you pray it lasts…*

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*Lyrics from Matthew Wilder’s hit 80’s song “Break My Stride.” The video is pretty remarkable – the fashion, the dancing, the Solid Gold. I’ve been saving this one up for today’s post.

Day 1: Client Kitchen & Bath Renovation

It’s hard to imagine that last year at this time Jeff and I were excitedly and nervously counting the days in our own renovation, already hitting day 11 by the beginning of August. Well, today was day 1 for my clients’ (heretofore known as Mr & Mrs K) kitchen and bathroom renovation. I don’t know that they’re as nervous or excited as we were, but I know that they’ll be counting the days as we did. How can you not? I mean, when more than half of your house is taken over by teams of people, tools and materials; when the only sounds you can hear during the daytime are hammers banging, power tools vibrating, and things being heaved into a large, and loud, dumpster, it’s pretty hard not to pay attention.

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Open your mouth wide, the universal sigh…*

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*Lyrics from Radiohead’s song Bloom from their album The King of Limbs. I mean no disrespect by using the lyrics in this playful manner – the song, the album, both amazing. Worth every penny and every minute of listening. Every time.

There’s a light (shining at the Frankenstein place). There’s a ligh-hi-high-hi-high-hah-ha-hight (burning in the fireplace!). There’s a ligh-high-uh-hight in the darkness of everybody’s life. There’s also a light in my office now. So, woo-hoo!

Many moons ago I began compiling bits and pieces for my inevitable office transformation. Up until a few years ago I would have self-identified as a hair colorist who was struggling to find my place in the world. Now I’m not afraid to say I’m a budding artist and designer, and a student of interior design (albeit a former student). Before our kitchen renovation began I had a little tiny area of the kitchen that I referred to as my “hair studio.” Now I have a fully-fledged, proper office. With a portable drafting table, portfolio pieces, and countless implements for design and drawing. (Perhaps not countless, but who wants to count that sort of stuff?)

read on…

Cupcake Monthly: July

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So, the only time I allow myself a blog title that’s not a song is for Cupcake Monthly. I’ll admit, I’ve missed a few months. I may have to start calling it Cupcake Quarterly though, since my plans for the future include reigning in my sweet tooth. Anyway, several weeks ago, our dear friends Dave (of Team Carpentry) and Abbie’s lovely son, Eli, had his first birthday. And I was enlisted to provide his first ever(!) cupcake.

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I can make a change, I can start a fire…*

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*Lyrics from Janelle Monae’s song Locked Inside from her album ArchAndroid. If you don’t already own this album, buy it. It’s incredible.

New things are happening all around us. Google+ just (soft) launched, we now have Spotify in the U.S., and now I have a place to hang my step stool. (I don’t see how those things don’t relate, so stop laughing.) Though not as exciting as new technology, Jeff and I managed to get excited about a mini-makeover of sorts on our basement stairway. Which I now call the kitchen closet.

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It’s a low, low road you’ve gotta roll down before you find your way…*

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*Lyrics from Grace Potter & the Nocturnals’ Low Road from their self-titled album.

I’ve said it before, and it’s still true: there is something inspiring about having teams of people at your house doing work that always makes me want to do more things. After Candy and the ladies (and gents) of Ladies Landscaping came to refresh our yard we determined that if we were ever going to stain the fence, now would be the time. Before any more plantings get put to bed, before the weather turned, while we had the vicarious energy boost from the Ladies’ day and a half microburst of yard beautification. It was time, and we got to it.

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She’s like the wind, through my tree…*

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*Lyrics from, well, if I have to tell you then you didn’t watch Dirty Dancing for three weeks straight when it played at the Calvin Theater in 1987. In which case, I can’t help you.

When we lost our beloved pup, Bec, we knew we wanted to bury her in the yard. It was where she was happiest, where she longed to be during all hours of the day, all times of the year, and where she took her last breath. She belongs to this place, if for no other reason than that she loved it, and we wanted her to remain here, even if we don’t. Of course I couldn’t stand the thought of actually digging a giant hole and chucking her into it, so we had her individually cremated. We also knew that we wanted to give her some sort of marked spot, so we’d know where she was, and be able to know she wouldn’t be accidentally dug up by any future owners. So we decided to plant a tree. A dogwood, because she was a dog, and one with pink blossoms because she was a girl. (My 8 year-old niece figured that rationale in seconds, so we knew it was the right choice.)

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Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight…*

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*Lyrics from Billy Idol’s Hot In The City.

Ok, so the lyrics are a cop out (even though that video is amazing). But it’s friggin’ hot out there! Brain = melted. So, in honor of summer’s full court press (or whatever expression makes you understand that summer is here, and she’s not taking no for an answer), I submit to you this recipe, as discovered in the lovely Canadian magazine House & Home.

Lavender Lemonade – makes about 6 adult sized glasses

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Don’t let this fading summer pass you by…*

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*Lyrics from Neko Case’s “Magpie to the Morning“ on her album Middle Cyclone. Which is amazing, by the way.

Recently, whilst lamenting that there’s nothing worth buying in thrift stores, craigslist, or what have you in our less than cutting edge used furniture market (come on, locals, you know I’m not lying) I happened upon a listing that seemed too good to be true. Button-tufted swiveling barrel chairs in their original “gold” upholstery for $20. Total. Well, turns out the listing price was a mistake, and the listing was removed. Boo.

I moved on with my life, as anyone would, and was delighted to get an email about a week later from the seller saying that he was sorry for the confusion, and that the chairs were still available, but at a new price. $50 for the pair. Seriously. Where on earth can you find two upholstered chairs for $50, let alone ones that swivel? You can’t. Unless your local comrades decide they actually don’t like the mustard-olive (they saw it as gold) faux slub silk (polyester) fabric that’s still on them from the late 70’s. Well, I don’t like the fabric that much, either, but I don’t mind paying to have them reupholstered. (I say that now – check with me once I’ve actually gone through the process and am crying about how expensive my little craigslist chairs actually cost what new ones would.) read on…