Small Victories

Eureka! We have accomplished the remodel of the bathroom on our first floor! I love the way it looks, now. I love that we did it ourselves. I love that what was once the ugliest room in the house, is now one of the prettiest.  I'm feeling a lot of love over here, which is funny because this was, at times, infuriating. It didn't end up exactly the way I'd envisioned. The disgusting drop ceilings are still hanging there covering god-only-knows what untold horrors. Just, please don't look up.  And there is still the matter of the bathtub. Really? A bathtub? Who needs a bathtub on the first floor? I mean, yes, we are out on the prairie, but this ain't a little house and its 2014. 

No matter. It's not bringing me down. No, sir. I'm in love with this bathroom anyway. 

I guess the euphoria is stemming from the sense of accomplishment. Well, that and the knowledge that this room is done, and my weekends are again free until I choose to tear in to the kitchen. 

What is it about accomplishment that feels so good? I'm sure there are articles I could read about brain chemistry and how endocannabinoids stimulate a sense of bliss and... blah, blah, blah. I don't care. I feel good about this project, and that's enough. I'm proud of myself and I am dumbstruck with pride in my husband who rocked our ancient plumbing like a pro. 

Most importantly, I'm proud that it isn't perfect, and that I love it anyway. 

These are those same, old fixtures.  I'm still not crazy about the frilly, glass globes.  As for the bases, we painted over all that brass with a bronze. Then we painted the brown wood white like the cabinets. 

Not to let on to too many of our new secrets, but see this beautiful, gray, weathered, pine flooring? It's actually a single sheet of linoleum that we bought at Menard's for $0.89/ sqft. When the pain of this project dulls to the point that I start to say, "The bathroom wasn't so bad..." I'm going to rip the flooring out of my kitchen and use this again. I love it. 

We call these "finishing touches." You may call them delirious attempts at drawing a straight line through a crooked house. 

Nobody was ever more deserving of the satisfaction of crossing your arms over your chest and standing back to admire your own handiwork than this man. 

It's the little things. 

 Chris had to buy and install new piping to get the sink back in over the new floor. For a minute there I wondered if he'd sail the whole sink through the window and out on to the snow covered lawn. I wouldn't have blamed him. Alas, he persevered and the sink is once again functional and beautiful and most importantly, water tight.

I've heard some people say that after all the years of work (and fighting) they put into their houses, they start to hate them, but I don't get it. We're taking something that was SO someone else's and making it our own. We're finding our way out here in the boonies. It's been a long, hard winter We've been cooped up in this house with all its idiosyncrasies and our own, but we have something to show for it - something that is so uniquely "us." Maybe its all ego. Like I said before, I don't care. I'm happy with my bathroom and I'm happy to be happy.