The leap

I have rearranged my finances to get enough money for my bathroom remodel to begin. Tell me what mistakes I'm bound to make.

Getting the check soon. Added to my tax refund, I should be able to finance it and start in the next few weeks.

I plan to:

-- Add a pocket door to the space, adding about six square feet to the space.

-- Replace my crappy old window with a glass block window.

-- Add a heated tiled floor. Yep, I live in the South, but I love me some heated floor.

-- Rearrange the bathroom fixtures (requiring some toilet and bath moving -- plumbing work!)

-- and build a custom vanity to fit the space, and carve in a vertical shelf unit.

My trusted kitchen guy, Pee Wee (yep, his name) will work on this. I'm calling him next week.

What mistakes shall I anticipate? And how shall I avoid them?

Cabin fever!

Haven't done a thing outside in three weeks -- traveling, crappy weekends, crappy weeks at work -- and I've got some DIY cabin fever.

So I'm distracting myself in the usual ways: knitting, watching the endless parade of Jenny Sanford appearances on television, and trying to stay warm.

It's all Drafty McDraftpants here. I dream of blown-in insulation in the walls. But until then...

I have hardwood floors above a crawl space, and while I've put plastic on some of the ground, it's not everywhere, and an insulation job a few years ago fell apart pretty easily. A friend suggested tacking tar paper to the floor from below. What do you think of that? Another wasted effort? Or economical solution?

Prime time

Before I began prepping my exterior for painting, I read a long article on thisoldhouse.com detailing the steps. Scrap, clean, scrap again, sand, fix, prime and paint.

I was determined not to take any shortcuts.

I'm taking shortcuts.

My confession comes as I finish priming the north side of my house. It's the least damaged part, and is mostly hidden from public view. So I figured I could learn from this and not mess up the other parts of my exterior.

I hand-scraped, but some of the paint was embedded in the wood. I sanded, but I couldn't feather the surface enough. I cleaned, but I didn't use any TSP, since I don't want to damage any plants nearby. And I fixed minimally, but I can't replace any wooden boards.

I'm priming with an oil primer -- oh the joy of getting that out of my hair. I'm kinda sloppy about it.

And now I have to decide whether to begin painting, or go back and start over.

I think I'll paint. I need to have something finished, my chosen color on my house, or else I'll go mad with inertia.

It'll be OK. I'm learning. Help me -- how can I keep my momentum without shortcutting the process? Any tricks, gadgets or tips?

And the color is (drum roll...)

...Indigo Batik from Sherwin-Williams.

It makes me swoon.

A friend agrees, saying it's a good color for a South Carolina home. And, "it's got enough juju to scare away the haints."

Fine by me.

And, drum roll.... This is part of the north side of my house. Shot during the Southern Great Storm of 2010, which blew 8 inches through South Carolina in one day. (And melted in 36 hours). I peeked inside a wall inside my laundry room, which has the original siding in older colors, and found that this dark blue might have been the original color of the house. Good color karma.

i likee.

House color help!

Looking for a good dark gray -- a saturated color that still is warm....for the exterior of my house. Want to mimic those beautiful Portland, Ore. arts and crafts homes.

I have a gray now, with darker trim, but want to change to white trim.

I used a color application to mimic one of these colors -- this is Olympic Range from Sherwin-Willliams, sloppily on the left, with white trim.

Any other suggestions?

Impressions

I'm tidying up, clearing some space, taking out the garbage. It's a big day, and I want to make a good impression.

The plumbers are coming tomorrow to install a new faucet and kitchen sink.

Why am I so concerned with what these contractors think? After all, I pay them to do work.

Maybe it's that little hint of smug superiority when someone discovers that my big problem has an easy solution.

The heating guy was all full of himself ("This is a story I'm going to tell the guys in the office," he said, with a slight swagger in his voice) when he found out my programmable thermometer was wired wrong, triggering the heat AND the air conditioning, freezing me out of my home for THREE SEASONS.

Last week, another plumber pulled out a teeny black washer from my bathroom faucet and declared it fixed. Months ago, I dutifully replaced a cartridge (see "Drop by drop, draining" blog entry, if you care) but left an extra washer in the handle. It didn't take him five minutes.

I'm all grateful and that after a problem -- like the heating -- is fixed, but it reminds me that this home improvement thing is a lot more overwhelming, and I need a lot more help. And money to pay for the help.

UPDATE: Post-plumbing. "That sink don't fit." My bargain sink is going back, and an expensive one will take its place. Damn you, superior beings!!

All you need is love

Am I in love with my house, or am I holding back real emotional attachment until the house is all fixed up? Why can't I just love it the way it is? Why is home improvement like falling in love?

Let's not turn this in a "Sex and the City" episode.

We've been experiencing incredible weather, for November and for the South. So I've been unfurling my hammock and chillin' in the back yard.

From the hammock, I get to see the back of my house from a new perspective. It's still not repainted (although I've made headway on prep work on the north side) but it looks a bit lovely in the fading fall afternoon light. My garden is bursting with beauty, almost as it was taking one deep, final breath before exhaling for winter.

And for a few hours, I can let go of my inner to-do list -- remodel my bathroom on a budget, get a driveway done, or, now that my heating is fixed, finish installing storm windows.

It's like I've been dating for four years, but think: he might not be The One -- If only he would just dress up more, drive a little better car, or not laugh so loud.

Instead, I start thinking that way about myself. I'm Bridget Jones, often dumbstruck that someone would want me -- My life is beginning to show its age, and work is getting worse.

Love this house the way it is? Every project -- completed -- makes me feel a little more comfortable about being proud of this house. Maybe I really want this house to love me.