One of our big summer projects this year involved hooking up electricity to the ceiling fans and overhead lighting in every room on the main floor of this old house, including the enclosed front porch. (Mind you, the ceiling fans and overhead lighting were already there and had been for years... but that's another story of self-sacrifice).
By the time Kel finished cutting into tiles and through plaster, repainting the ceilings was necessary, but that made the walls look awfully blah and dingy, so a different color scheme ended up making the fabric on the couch just "pop". And while we were at it (since the two front rooms were already empty of furniture) we refinished the wood floors in those rooms too. This is how we get things done, and a little rewiring job becomes Extreme Home Makeover.
When we first moved into this house with its exterior of gross white tiles and icky green trim, the landscaping was made up entirely of rocks, discarded railway ties, scraggly shrubs, and broken cement walkways. I recall the time I pruned an overgrown forsythia bush outside our kitchen door. The kids and I would nearly poke our eyes out as we maneuvered around the limbs to approach the slanted steps and crooked backdoor. A quick "clip clip" with a pair of over-sized shears and I had that problem taken care of.
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Boy, was Kel surprised when he got home from work! Typically he would appreciate my efforts, but this time he strained to hold his tongue and applaud my ambition. That overly cropped forsythia couldn't hide the fact that I'm really not a great gardener. However, it's funny to think that the space we now enjoy outside that reconstructed kitchen door is a direct result of a bad pruning job. If only I had a "Before" picture!
As having nine kids might indicate, this Krenz family has been known for a willingness to take on more than minimally necessary. We live big. I hesitate adding, however, that the kitchen ceiling still has a hole in it the exact shape of Brennan's foot, there is only one piece of crown moulding in there, and the windows have yet to be primed and painted. That remodel started in the summer of '02. But we'll get to it, eventually. We're just not motivated enough... yet.
When you put forth such effort (Kel doing the work, me keeping the kids out of the way), you hope things stay "nice" for a while.
In our house, I realize that keeping things nice (landscape pruning not withstanding) is an especially idyllic notion, but I am entitled to hope for the best. Really, it's only October and the smell of the paint of the summer project is still fresh in my memory. So when I recently caught a glimpse of our 9 foot living room ceiling and saw what looked like WRITING, my initial reaction was "WHICH DERELICT DID THIS??"
(Note: Some might find it remarkable that I wasn't the least bit surprised there might be a scrawled message on the ceiling. Others might appreciate that what is utterly inconceivable in parents' wildest dreams actually does occur as fanciful thoughts to their children, and my kids happen to be the kind to act on them.)
After closer look I could see that this was really an index card adhered to the ceiling with 12 inches of strapping tape, and to my surprise it included Kel's handwriting! "Palming the ceiling will give the girls a great vertical jump for volleyball!" he explained. Considering Brennan's dunking skills started with hanging from the transom frames, I believe him.
I wonder what it would take to get the roof over the upstairs bathroom reshingled?
Inspiration. Motivation.
It's all about what moves you.
By the time Kel finished cutting into tiles and through plaster, repainting the ceilings was necessary, but that made the walls look awfully blah and dingy, so a different color scheme ended up making the fabric on the couch just "pop". And while we were at it (since the two front rooms were already empty of furniture) we refinished the wood floors in those rooms too. This is how we get things done, and a little rewiring job becomes Extreme Home Makeover.
When we first moved into this house with its exterior of gross white tiles and icky green trim, the landscaping was made up entirely of rocks, discarded railway ties, scraggly shrubs, and broken cement walkways. I recall the time I pruned an overgrown forsythia bush outside our kitchen door. The kids and I would nearly poke our eyes out as we maneuvered around the limbs to approach the slanted steps and crooked backdoor. A quick "clip clip" with a pair of over-sized shears and I had that problem taken care of.
.jpg)
Boy, was Kel surprised when he got home from work! Typically he would appreciate my efforts, but this time he strained to hold his tongue and applaud my ambition. That overly cropped forsythia couldn't hide the fact that I'm really not a great gardener. However, it's funny to think that the space we now enjoy outside that reconstructed kitchen door is a direct result of a bad pruning job. If only I had a "Before" picture!As having nine kids might indicate, this Krenz family has been known for a willingness to take on more than minimally necessary. We live big. I hesitate adding, however, that the kitchen ceiling still has a hole in it the exact shape of Brennan's foot, there is only one piece of crown moulding in there, and the windows have yet to be primed and painted. That remodel started in the summer of '02. But we'll get to it, eventually. We're just not motivated enough... yet.
When you put forth such effort (Kel doing the work, me keeping the kids out of the way), you hope things stay "nice" for a while.
In our house, I realize that keeping things nice (landscape pruning not withstanding) is an especially idyllic notion, but I am entitled to hope for the best. Really, it's only October and the smell of the paint of the summer project is still fresh in my memory. So when I recently caught a glimpse of our 9 foot living room ceiling and saw what looked like WRITING, my initial reaction was "WHICH DERELICT DID THIS??"
(Note: Some might find it remarkable that I wasn't the least bit surprised there might be a scrawled message on the ceiling. Others might appreciate that what is utterly inconceivable in parents' wildest dreams actually does occur as fanciful thoughts to their children, and my kids happen to be the kind to act on them.)
After closer look I could see that this was really an index card adhered to the ceiling with 12 inches of strapping tape, and to my surprise it included Kel's handwriting! "Palming the ceiling will give the girls a great vertical jump for volleyball!" he explained. Considering Brennan's dunking skills started with hanging from the transom frames, I believe him.
I wonder what it would take to get the roof over the upstairs bathroom reshingled?
Inspiration. Motivation.
It's all about what moves you.
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