The one when I broke the travertine.

You know how every Friends episode is titled “The one when…” or “The one where…” so when you’re trying to decide which Friends episode you want to watch on the DVD you have a vague idea of what each episode is about due to the absence of clever titles? Well here I am, dear reader, giving you a break from my wit and choosing simply to tell you about what happened. This entry is aptly titled “The one when I broke the travertine” because this is the entry about the time I ate carrot cake for breakfast. No, not really. This entry is about the time I broke the travertine, and it is titled as such because I am sleep deprived (remember I have an infant- give me a pass, will you?)

In making the “canvas,” one of the big decisions was choosing the countertops for the main bathroom and the kitchen, which we had completely gutted. We’d already found the cabinet for the main bathroom (see ‘You’re so vain.’) and settled on a color for the kitchen cabinets, so we needed to select a granite. Easy-peasy, right?

It turns out that there aren’t too many variations of granite out there if you’re trying to stay on a budget, so finding the style of granite for the kitchen (Santa Cecelia) and bathroom vanity (Ornamental Giallo) wasn’t a big deal. It was picking the exact slabs that was a little more tricky.

The most fun part of choosing granite is being in the warehouse of a granite fabricator and having the opportunity to lay your hands on the exact piece(s) of granite that will be in your home. These pieces are heavy, and while I am a former aerobics instructor, when I say heavy I mean HEAVY. They basically have to get a guy with a special forklift to move the pieces- not joking. While deciding on the right pieces of Santa Cecelia and Ornamental Giallo, I saw a piece of travertine that I fell in love with.

Now you have to understand that travertine is a lot more porous than granite, which makes it a poor choice for children’s bathrooms (like our main bath). Seriously, our kids have purple soap and green mouthwash. On granite, those things spill and you wipe them up with a towel. On travertine, however, these liquids would soak in, and we’d be left with a stained countertop for the rest of time. What to do- do we just threaten our youngsters within an inch of their lives?

But the travertine was so pretty! I seriously considered just disowning the children if they messed up the travertine. But they’re so cute. Maybe we could bribe them? Ultimately it dawned on me that if anyone was going to screw up the travertine, it would probably be ME.

As I stood there looking at the gorgeous sand-tone of the travertine I admired, I put my hand on it and, like we used to do with CDs in record stores, flipped it from one side to another. It’s important for you to understand I do not have some kind of secret superhero strength, but since travertine is more porous than granite, it is also lighter- but not much. When I flipped it from one side to the other it landed with a CRASH and broke- right down the middle.

Oops.

Rhett hung his head. The slack-jawed salesgirl stuttered something along the lines of “Um, oh gosh, it’s okay…um…let’s see…glad you got your hand out in time.” Rhett was so embarrassed he probably had wished my hand had been caught between the two slabs of rock.

Needless to say, the travertine slab I liked was no longer an option. And that, my friends, was how we ended up with a granite countertop in the main bath.

You're so vain.

We really loved the idea of using a vintage chest for the main bathroom vanity, a la HGTV’s Sarah’s House. As I’ve mentioned before, Sarah and Tommy make everything look easy. Here’s a promise I am going to make you early on- I will not lie and tell you things are easy. I will also not claim to do all of this for cheap. As far as I’m concerned, Design on a Dime is a crock. Sure, you can pinch pennies and stay on a budget, but it’s not always going to be an easy process or look fabulous in the end. Let’s face it- Sarah and Tommy have budgets exceeding 25K for ONE ROOM. If you have that kind of cash lying around, find yourself a charity. This is the real world.

So far, my live-in labor (Rhett) has made doing a bulk of this renovation pretty inexpensive (he does expect me to do his laundry and make meals, though). As far as making the chest into a cabinet, he figured once we found the right piece he could cut the holes in the back, saw the top off, and have the granite people lay the sink in when they came to install the granite. All those things happened, but finding the right chest was the hard part. Chests and dressers are designed to be just that- not vanities.

We set out to keep the cost, including the granite, the sink, the plumbing, and the chest, all under $1,000. We scoured antique stores and shops, and I eventually feel in love with the green chest pictured above. Here’s why it isn’t a vanity and instead lives in our oldest child’s bedroom:

• The space was too big, and the chest was too small. We had 72” to play with, an impressive amount of space for a bathroom vanity in such an old house. This green chest was simply not wide enough, and it would have ultimately looked awkward in the space.
• The drawers would have been a nightmare for Rhett to cut through for plumbing, and at some level the storage they were designed to give would have been unusable as we put plumbing into the back.
• The top of the dresser was on- tight. This piece is a refinished vintage Russian chest from the early 1900s. All that to say, it wasn’t born yesterday. The construction isn’t cheap, the wood is heavy, and it was NOT made to easily be broken.

Something important to notice here- we bought the dresser anyways and just used it in another room. I got it for ridiculous deal (I told the shop owner how much I loved it and she knocked off an additional 25%- it pays to be friendly!) and, more importantly, I was- and still am- in love with it. If you are absolutely in love with a piece, which doesn't happen all the time, BUY it. Fill your home with things you can't get enough of. This was a steal, but my advice is this- screw the price tag and surround yourself with things that make you happy if you REALLY love them. My mother often tells me to fill my house only with things that I believe to be beautiful or that I have to have by neccessity (toothbrushes aren't beautiful, but you've got to have them). If it doesn't make you happy and it's not functional, toss it.

Just because we decided not to use the green chest as a vanity don’t get daunted, my friend! Rhett and I found a divine little store about 30 minutes from our house that specializes in reconstructions. In other words, the furniture they carry is designed to look old, but it’s really less than a year old at best. Rhett and I love weathered and worn pieces that have a story, but since we were intending to hack this one to pieces, all we really needed was a vintage LOOK, not vintage construction. And we didn’t want to pay for the age of an antique.

The piece that you see alongside the green dresser is what we ended up with. The width was right. Instead of drawers it had doors with a single shelf that was easily cut into for plumbing. What’s on the doors, you ask? Chicken wire! (This is the South.) Better yet, the top of the dresser popped right off, and Rhett uses it in the garage for a workbench.

Our vanity is homemade and we’re all crazy about its unique look and functionality. The best part? Yes, Sarah, we did it all for under $1,000.

Demolition Begins

A few posts below is a picture of our kitchen as it existed when we bought Tara. Did we mention we gutted it? Here it is during construction. We removed the dividing wall between the kitchen and the den, which opened up the space exponentially. The house has huge floor to ceiling windows along the back (right side of the picture), and the impact of all the light on the new space is tremendous.

We played around with the idea of keeping the cabinets, but Rhett decided to move them out to the garage for storage. Plus, it’s a pain to keep old cabinets and clean them if you’re redoing everything else in the kitchen. However, if you’ll notice we did keep the cabinets on the far left. In the next few years, we’ll rip them out and put a staircase here when we add a second story. You didn’t think the main floor renovation was it, did you? Tsk, tsk.

Along with removing the dividing wall, we also removed the bulkhead/soffit above the cabinets to give us more storage. Believe me, in the mid-century when a microwave was a big deal, they didn’t have near the amount of kitchen contraptions we can’t bear to live without. Just wait until you see our new kitchen!

You light up my life.

There’s a line from Steel Magnolias when-

Wait, let me get something clear first. If you don’t remember the last time you saw Steel Magnolias, or if- I shudder to think- haven’t even SEEN Steel Magnolias, stop reading this blog. Repent of your sins at the nearest Blockbuster or Netflix site and you may join up with us again when you’ve memorized at least five of the lines and yet still cried every time (Spolier alert!) Shelby dies.

Now, where were we? Oh yes. Truvy (LOVE her!) has a great line at the beginning of the movie:

“Well, the last romantic thing my husband did for me was back in 1972. He enclosed this carport so I could support him.”

As the movie progresses, we all come to see that Spud (great name) clearly loves Truvy (he makes her beauty shop a chain at the end of the movie, remember? *sniffle* It gets me every time!), but he’s not a roses and chocolates kind of guy. Spud will enclose a carport, fix the truck, and make her dream of two beauty shops a reality- all because he loves her. But buy her flowers or dazzle her with diamonds? ‘Fraid not.

We all have our different love languages- ways that we show people who mean a lot to us just how much we love them. I’m verbal (shocker), but Rhett, my Rhett is all about acts of service. He’ll help every friend move, rake leaves, clean out your basement- you name it. He once packed up my entire apartment (furniture and everything) in 2 elevator rides- the man loves manual labor!

When it comes to Tara, Rhett has done most everything and one of his major accomplishments was the electrical work. Old ranches like ours have terrible lighting and hardly any outlets. So naturally, Rhett climbed into the attic and cut holes for can lights in the ceilings of the hallway, den and kitchen (18 in all.) He changed out every single outlet and put in new ones throughout the house. I don’t think he shocked himself but once or twice, and it was probably good for his heart.

Some girls ask their husbands for purses or jewelry and get all giddy when it arrives at the house. Me? I asked just yesterday for another outlet by the front door for some new buffet lamps. Proof I’m learning his love language? Rhett said, “Sure, I’ll do it in a few weekends” and my heart skipped a beat.

My Lucille Ball DIY Weekend

Scarlett here isn’t known for being financially shrewd. I do, however, love a good deal (shoes at 25% off? Yes, please!).

Maybe it’s the thrill of the hunt that makes me relish a deal (Girlfriend better not have just picked up that last sequin tee- it’s mine!), or perhaps it’s the fact that I can buffer the sure-thing confrontation with Rhett about some purchases by saying, “Look how much we save on a nanny and a cleaning lady because I do both jobs for free!” Bottom line, I excuse my ridiculous love of shopping by adoring to save a little green wherever I can.

One of the coolest ways to save during the decorating phase of a renovation is to repurpose furniture from your old house (or a fab Flea Market) and re-imagine it in new ways. Sarah and Tommy on HGTV’s Sarah’s House do it all the time. They make it look so easy that I hate them. And by saying I hate them I mean I love them. Oh, can you both come visit me at Tara? I will bake you cookies!

Anyways, Rhett and I decided to do a little repurposing this weekend with an old table and chairs of mine from my life pre-Rhett. Maybe we’ll call it the pre-Civil War era? In any case, it’s an antique white breakfast table with four standard chairs. Not overly impressive, but definitely used and dirty. I had used it as a dining table in my small apartment for many years and then it moonlighted as a craft table in our oldest’s play room. Now it will finally have its time in the sun as a true breakfast table.

All it needed was a little coat of paint.

Turns out that involves a good amount of sanding first. As a runner I use my shoulders only as much as I lift children and shopping bags, so now after sanding all weekend I can barely feel my right shoulder. Ah, battle wounds!

After a tenuous afternoon at Home Depot we finally decided on a paint color called Mississippi Mud in High Gloss. Choosing high gloss paint for furniture, especially furniture you will need to clean often, is paramount. Flat paint simply does not clean easily and it wouldn’t have the smooth finish we were looking for. The saleswoman in the paint department told me she loved the color I picked out- I blushed. Rhett rolled his eyes.

Because Rhett is Rhett, he used a compressor and a spray gun (yes, we own both- you should see our garage) to spray the table and chairs. Scarlett would have used a paintbrush (and it would have taken 8 times as long and look terrible), but Rhett is fancy when it comes to these projects. He laid out plastic sheeting in our driveway, held down the corners with wood, and it was time to get started.

I came bouncing out of the garage in my sorority shorts to help and Rhett gave me the kiddie job of pouring some paint through a funnel filter into the can that attaches to the spray gun. And I screwed it up. The paint came out of the can much faster than I thought, and we at once had paint all over the stone wall behind our driveway. Whoops! Rhett walked quietly into the kitchen to get paper towels while I ran to get the hose, which shot water all over Kingdom come. Sheesh. At this point we hadn’t even gotten to the chairs, but a good portion of the driveway was a lovely shade of brownish-tan.

At least I loved the color.

The table and chairs look great, mainly because Rhett finished the job while I threw tennis balls with the dog. And in the end we have a beautiful breakfast table and chairs all for the price of a can of paint.

Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.

With the theme of this blog you should have seen that title coming.

When I was eight months pregnant, taking care of a five year-old, and living with my in-laws in heat and humidity that rivaled the temperature of Hell itself, I answered a lot of renovation questions with, “Honey, I don’t care. You have great taste- pick something.” Rhett does have great taste (usually), but I responded to some construction decisions that way not simply because I trust him, but because I wanted the house to just be DONE already. I figured I was more into decorating anyways. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn about the finish of the door handles, whether we opted for a rectangular sink over a square sink, or whether the sink was a drop in or had a lip of 1 inch. A bathroom sink is for washing hands and brushing teeth.

But wait, isn’t part of the decorating process choosing titles and granite, doorknobs and sinks? Ugh, yes. This was when I realized that decorating isn’t only about rugs and curtains and picture frames anymore than painting is solely about the colors you choose. You have to choose the right canvas and the correct brushes before you begin to paint, not just choose colors. Likewise, I had to MAKE the right canvas (as best I could since we weren’t building from scratch) so I could decorate the way I want to.

Here’s the first piece of advice I’m going to give in this blog (okay, second…the first was to make sure you are living with a good cook while the renovation is taking place- remember that!). Don’t be ambivalent about renovation decisions you are going to have to live with. You’ll see them every day, so make sure you like them. Case in point- I told Rhett this morning that I didn’t love the door handles. I’m just not into a nickel finish right now, I explained. Rhett gently reminded me that in my hormone-fueled pregnancy I told him to “just pick something” and that these perfectly fine door handles aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Damn.

So, my dear, here’s the morsel to take away. No matter how much you trust your spouse, contractor, rabbi, or Magic 8 ball, YOU are going to be the one living with your renovation decisions, so make sure you like what’s going into the house.

Why? Frankly my dear, you DO give a damn.

Hey good lookin', whatcha got cookin'?

We couldn't even figure out how to turn it on.

When we met the neighbors, they told us that the previous owner, bless her heart, had once baked them 4 loaves of banana bread because she couldn't tell what her oven was doing and was "sure one of the loaves would taste good."

Suffice it to say, the oven was definitely original to the house.

We've learned that this is what you get from the standard 1950s-1960s ranch. Some things are updated if you're lucky, but if you're like Tara, everything is original.

Did we want to salvage it? Absolutely. Can you imagine the envy in the eyes of our friends as we pulled delicious dishes from the fabulous french doors? Put an apron on me and call me June Cleaver. Rhett even noticed there was a rotisserie! *Sigh* Unfortunately we discovered that it really didn't work in a predictable, dependable manner (so much for the previous owner's banana bread) and that there was no way to find parts for it should we want to preserve its vintage majesty. We ultimately found it a nice home at a farm upstate where it had lots of other appliances to play with.

Okay, okay. We took it to the scrap yard and got 150 bucks.

It's hard to part with the few things that give a fifty year-old ranch like ours some character, but when it comes to character or a working oven, I'll take the latter.

Hey kids, don't try this at home.

We officially sold our old house and bought Tara right after Memorial Day weekend. The baby was due (and came!) 2 months later. About the timeline, I wouldn’t recommend it.

Here’s what the kitchen of house looked like when we bought it. As I chronicle the renovation, I’ll go room by room and delve into more detail (get excited to see the ancient Thermador and the cool vintage lighting!), so first we're going to go back to visit Tara in her former glory. This is the view of the kitchen from the den.

All I can say is this: she’s not a looker, but she has a great personality.

My affection for country vegetables…and my in-laws.

When you decide to embark on a full-scale renovation that renders your house a construction zone, you have to find somewhere to live while the work is being done. Pitching a tent was tossed around as an option (we have a super cool shark tent), but when Rhett reminded me that tents lack indoor plumbing (egad!) we knew we needed to be somewhere else STAT. Rhett pops out of bed in the morning looking like a million bucks, but Scarlett is a bit more high maintenance.

Fortunately, Rhett’s parents live about 2 miles from Tara, so we hightailed it to their house to stay while the work was being done, with their blessing of course. The thing is, we didn’t just have their blessing and support, we had their food. My mother-in-law grew up on a Georgia farm, so listen here Honey: if you want Southern cooked vegetables, her breakfast table is the place to get ‘em.

People kept asking if I had pregnancy cravings, and I didn’t even know I could have cravings as intense as I did until I moved in with Rhett’s parents. Creamed corn, fried okra, fresh beans, ripe tomatoes…did I mention creamed corn? Oh, and cornbread. Yes, a happy pregnant woman country vegetables make.

My advice? When seeking a place to live short-term, consider what your needs are. Clearly, God knew I needed fried okra. When it comes to cooking, I am a baker, not a chef. My mother-in-law? A chef extraordinaire. YUM.

Here’s hoping our kids don’t move back in at age 34 with a wife and kids…or if they do, here’s hoping everyone’s craving carrot cake and coconut cream pie.

So I married a cartoon character.

When people politely say, “Wow! So you’re renovating AND having a baby!” I *usually* fight the urge to be rude and instead say something along the lines of, “My husband IS Bob the Builder, you know.”

To set the record straight, I am not married to the cartoon character (or this blog would be a lot more interesting/weird). My husband’s name isn’t even Bob. But when it comes to doing things around the house, can he build it? YES HE CAN.

My husband can do just about everything when it comes to home repairs and home renovation. Seriously. If I were at all close to being in a construction-related vocation, I would have developed a serious inferiority complex by now. I can’t even hang a picture without a stud finder anymore, and honestly, I usually just wait for him to do it because he always does a better job. Fortunately for my ego he has trouble with their/there/they’re, who/whom, you’re/your and such grammatical distinctions, so I get to strut my stuff every so often.

But I digress. So far he’s done all the electrical for the house (I’ll get into the nitty-gritty when I start posting pictures), run the gas line for the oven (yikes!), installed tile (I got to help with that one, but I got reprimanded for being on the phone while tiling), been on the roof like a spider monkey- you name it. Next on the list is hacking a hole in the fireplace so he can mount his new TV above the mantle. What can I say, he got a new TV so I got some awesome new boots- that’s how our marriage works (and I can post a picture of those fab boots, too!).

Throughout this blog I’ll be sure to give him credit for all the things he’s done to the house (and will do…right, Honey?). And I’ll refrain from calling him Bob the Builder and instead go with Rhett. Get it? Tara…Scarlett…Rhett…

We've been busy.

Some people go to the beach during the summer. Some people take a little more time off work to relax. Some people spend lazy days at the lake and even lazier nights cooking up barbeque and catching fireflies.

Us? We had a baby and bought a new house. I understand that it's not too unusual to look for a bigger house when a new family member is on the way, but the house we bought needed (read: still needs) more attention than the new baby.

While the baby is growing and changing every day, so is the house. Most everything else revolves around our children, so this site is dedicated to the evolution of our new home- Tara.