Do you remember this place? This is the house I bought just over a year ago? Cross my heart, when I look at these pictures I can almost smell the way the house smelled. It was a hot moldy mess. Que the itchy eyes and scratchy throat. Mold is a nightmare, y’all.

In the midst of so much transformation, it’s easy to forget all the things that have changed. The overgrown holly bush, the old iron doors—these are the things I forget. But these pictures take me back to last summer, when I was somehow confident enough to believe that this house could be so much more than it seemed to be–days when I knew absolutely nothing about construction, renovation, how much things really cost or how much detail goes into creating an environment.

I remember pulling all my ideas for the house together into mood boards (of sorts) and sending them off to Brad (the really great contractor) and thinking,  I think I have good taste but what if I don’t? What if these ideas are stupid? That makes me smile now. If life were made entirely of magic and I could travel back in time I would whisper a secret into my ear: Silly girl. Don’t be afraid to share all your far-fetched ideas. The ideas that are great will be celebrated and come to life before your eyes. The ideas that aren’t so great, well, you’ll find that you’ve got a friend good enough to take what’s right about them and make the rest better.

Just a few days before demo started this is the view from the corner of my corner lot.

Last night , I was thinking of you (my very kind readers who have followed this story and chimed in with encouragement nearly every day of the journey) and I thought Amy, you are a terrible blogger. Give these people an update even if it isn’t “perfect.” So, I ran out to the corner and stood on the slab of concrete where two sidewalks meet and snapped this picture of a  little house that has been loved back to life. My, my, my… we’ve come so far.

Thanks for reading. And thanks for joining in on this project—there’s still much more to come.

Charm. Charm is the element that an iron bed brings to a room. It begs for layers–whether they be old heavy quilts or fluffy piles of down-comforters. There is something quite homey about an iron bed. The older and heavier the better.)

Last week I was in Atlanta which is a perfect excuse to go visit IKEA. In case you need a bed for the spare bedroom, this is $99. Yep. $99. Who can argue with that? No, it’s not heavy and old but with the right bedding it can hold its own and get you through until you find that perfectly aged iron bed for which you look. I would paint this with yellow spray paint in a matte finish and call it pretty.

From Thirty Duo

From Country Living

From Style at Home

Seen at I Suwannee via Domino Mag

Via Creed

Via Country Living

Via Decor Pad

Via Houzz

From Country Living

Craig Johnson (Superior Woodwork) installed shelving in the kitchen and we are all quite happy with the way everything is shaping up. The guys at Superior Woodwork do trim work, cabinetry, closets, door installation and are some of the nicest guys around.

Every now and then I remind myself of what was–it was a mess. As for today, the kitchen is my favorite room. But that could change tomorrow…

Here’s a look at the transformation.

Before:

After:

Before:

After:

During:

After:

Today:

Sorry for the variance in picture quality. What can I say? It happens. Thanks for reading anyway!

Here’s the skinny on the kitchen island. I was looking for something absolutely different—something industrial and atypical. When I was home for Thanksgiving my uncle told me to come by his house and dig though the barn and sheds behind his house. (Move over American Pickers–I challenge you to a “pick off.”  And speaking of, the Pickers would do well to swing by his house.) I left the farm with these industrial style cast iron legs that I picked right out of my uncle’s shed.

Come February I found myself in the lumber yard at Woodstock Vintage Lumber with Brent and Brad discussing a pile of newly salvaged lumber that Brent (Woodstock) recommended for the island top and a few floating shelves to go in the kitchen. You can imagine how much I had to contribute to that conversation standing there in the snow trying to imagine islands and shelving.

In March/April I met with Brent again. We looked at a couple samples and he recommended using poplar to make the shelves.

Here’s the finished product (minus bar stools).

Flooring and island top are both compliments of Woodstock Vintage Lumber. I couldn’t be happier with them. Many thanks to Brent and the guys at Woodstock. As I write this the floating shelves are being installed–more pics coming asap. Here’s a preview.

Thanks for reading.

I can hardly remember this place. But, it is a true and real place from which we started—tile painted jungle green accented with an oh-so-seventies patterned wallpaper. Cross my heart, every time I see before pics of the bathroom “Welcome to the Jungle” runs through my mind. And next I think of Slash and his moppy hair. And then I try to think about something else.

I don’t think about the guys from Guns and Roses much anymore.

Much better.  I think this is much better. Forward progress. But, alas, it is plain and boring and not where it should be. This bathroom is in purgatory. The limbo that exists for rooms that are “on the list” of things that are yet to be completed. I also refer to this as “makeshift mode.” It’s the place you get to when you slap things on the wall in an effort to make it functional. Wallpaper = best solution ever.

I’ve got a pile of samples. I taped my top two to the wall last night. I stood back and stared. I will decide this week. I can’t live in this limbo, will it be Mod Green Pod or Aimee Wilder? I like them both so very much.

This is what I bought. This dark paneled master suite with old paneling and linoleum tiled floors. This is the part of the house that scared me. The main floor offered light and openness—breathability at it’s best. The master bedroom and bath felt like a cave and for a long time I could only look at Brad and say, “The upstairs is all you. I have no idea what to do up there.” Uhm, I could touch the ceiling when I stood on the tips of my toes. I am not a tall woman, y’all. Not good. The situation was not good.

The rest of the house, well, the vision for everything else came so easily. I thought once the walls and ceilings were out it would feel better. But even with the walls down and ceiling gone, I still quizzed Brad as to how we were going to make this space feel better.I was not going to be able to “live with” the low ceiling. I knew it. Brad knew it. It was just all wrong and there was no avoiding it. I mean, call me dramatic, but I would catch myself drawing big deep breaths when I was up there. Because I felt trapped.

So, Brad did what any good contractor would do. He told me there was nowhere to go but up. So, I did what any good client would do. I said, “Let’s go up.” And then he tore the place apart. I came home to this one afternoon. Uhm, this is not up. This is down. I confess. A wave of nausea hit me when I saw this. Because, quite frankly, well… I mean, I don’t know… how do you fix this?

Miranda Lambert would tell you that you fix this “nail by nail and board by board.” Miranda would be right. After the taking apart comes the putting back together. And immediately we concluded that taking the roof of would be the smarted decision ever.

One side of the second floor went from this:

To this:

Brad was right. We had nowhere to go but up. I’m glad we did.

Thanks for reading. More before and afters coming!

Just call me DJ Casper. I look at these photos and suddenly I’m singing, Everybody clap your hands. Why, you ask? Caleb and Adam are installing a barn door system in my hallway.  Sliding door, slide to the left, Cha Cha Slide–it’s all connected in the web that is my mind.

Here are a few fabulous uses of the barn door system to which I say: Well done. Very well done.

Via Remodelista

a.maz.ing.

Via Pinterest

Via Southern Living

Lovely, aren’t they? The green one… I think the green door is my favorite.

Let me start at the beginning. You know how I feel about open floor plans—they are not for everybody. I like a kitchen separate from the living room, it’s a preference thing, nobody’s wrong. After all, what you like is right.

Brooks stopped by during the building process and said, “Ame, you should put a window here so you can see into the dining room while you’re cooking.” Brad will say he thought of this first. I would say I was thinking of it all along. But, Brooks was the first one to say anything aloud so I always say, “My friend, Brooks, thought of this” because he did.

Here you can see that we framed out for a window. And then we found a better window—smaller and a more appropriate fit for the range and hood—so we patched the space with particle board knowing the wall would be tiled.

Before we could get the wall patched and covered our friendly officials came by and slapped a big rejection notice on us. Sadly, Brad was not there to defend himself and explain that this surface would be tiled. We agree that we would not have been rejected if they knew what we were thinking. And, I was not there to explain anything either so they just went all I-can’t-go-for-that on us. Thank you, Hall and Oates, for the best lyrics ever. And, thank you Metro, for the rejection.

My reaction went something like this: Really? We were rejected? Really? Brad, do “they” really think we are going to leave particle board tacked up above an open flame? Really? Seriously. The whole your-window-frame-could-catch-on-fire possibility had the officials in a wad.  Brad’s solution: glass in the window. Good solution, it’s easier to clean. Now we’re happy, officials and all.

From the dining room

If you should decide to use a window above your range do yourself a favor and put a piece of glass in front of the window. Save yourself the rejection.

I’m moving into this house this weekend. For real.

The past week has been crazy with inspectors, crews, and daily visits with my friends at Home Depot. I made one random trip to Lowes. I felt like such a cheater.

Here’s a sneak peek of the kitchen with the counter tops covered in paper. The good pics are coming as soon as the grout is in the tile and that paper is off the counters. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can see the light above the sink, too. Both are shining brightly.

The good part is just around the corner. Thanks for reading!

Before

Almost After.

(Just a few more changes to go.)