Risen from the ashes

Aptly named, the small local company Phoenix Floor Finishing, did some real magic on my floors. The legend of the phoenix...the bird that rises from the ashes to live again. She does that.

She literally renewed my floors from worthless junk that you would want to cover with rugs (but even that wouldn't cover the horrible trim paint jobs along the entire perimeter of the floor) to something of beauty. These babies look brand new.

The pictures do not do justice; they look way better in person. But here are pictures from the same 3 places as previously posted.

Adios, scratches.


Really, there used to be water stains here.


No more worn wood by foot traffic.


A few weeks ago, while sitting on the floor of my parents' kitchen talking to my mom, I asked when/if I would be comfortable sitting on the floor of my house... something that I consider to be a true sign that it's yours and you trust it.

I will sit on these floors.

Sand and Refinish, please.

Not too long after I made my big decision to buy the house, I lay awake thinking about paint colors and furniture. This, obviously, was a good and productive use of my time. Then I suddenly came to deciding that I had to do something about the wood floors. They were basically trashed (which, of course, I overlooked in the purchase decision-making). And, while I could cover them up with some nice rugs, nice wood floors are just beautiful. And would probably add to the value of the house (maybe), and if I was going to do them ever I might as well do them now so I can enjoy them.

Some before pictures...
Note the giant scratch(es),


the water spots (which I naively assumed were dirt)


and the just worn-with-lots-of-foot-treads floors. With a horrible paint job on the trim.


So I found a company to finish them for me (clearly, this was too much of a DIY task), owned by a woman (which I love, of course), and hired her crew to do them. She did an amazing job -- pictures to follow. And didn't even blink an eye when she got my, "Oh no, Barb. I went over to sneak a peek at my floors and stepped on wet varnish and may have [knowing full well that I most definitely did] left a foot print," voicemail.

She took care of my (3 to 4) footprints.

paint

I have to be honest, until about 2 weeks ago I was a wall-painting-virgin. Growing up, when my parents would paint a room in the house I would "help" but was never really allowed to touch a brush or a roller. Either they knew better than to put paint in the hand of the clumsy adolescent that I was, or they were going with the "I'd rather do it myself so I know it gets done right/how I want it even if that means declining help" attitude (which I seem at times to have adopted as an adult). More likely a combination of the both. Either way, until earlier this month I had done little more than watch my parents paint. Maybe I refilled trays or hammered the lids back on but was never given any sort of responsibility that could cause potential damage or was really very useful.

When I was house hunting, my realtor (aka brother), always finding the possibilities and potential in a house would tell me not to get distracted by the paint on the walls (good or bad) because paint is such a simple thing to change. Not so much, brotha'. I hate painting. Er, I hate the process. Love the outcome. It is amazing how much of a transformation paint can bring to a home. It gives it life, personality, warmth. I think I can handle a few hours of tedious work if I remember how much I'll love the outcome. So far, the living/dining room area is done.

The before. Vast walls of whiteness.

The choices. Someone sure had my number when they decided to market these little paint samples. Indecisiveness rejoice.

Dad, Melissa, and I spent a long Monday night painting (thank you!). Clearly, I did some work and then got bossy pointing out the mistakes (my need for perfection obvsiously not in check at that moment)

The after. Just need to refinish those floors and pull up a couch!

Pure Michigan

I absolutely love Michigan in the summer. It almost makes it worth waiting the entire winter (although I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy/appreciate it nearly as much if not for winter). And it's not summer until you go north.... I sometimes think that those Pure Michigan radio and TV commercials were made specifically for me. I almost salivate when I hear them. How can you not?

A few of us headed north this past weekend for a girls weekend at Mackinac Island... and then I got to see some of my favorite cities on the way back south: Petoskey, Harbor Springs, Charlevoix, Traverse City. It made for a long drive home and a long weekend, but totally and completely worth it. We had so much fun and took tons and tons of picture... here are a few shots from our trip.

Lowe's

Tonight was my first of what I'm sure will be many trips to Lowe's. Picture it. Me, one of the most indecisive people on the planet, stuck in a home improvement superstore and expected to both find and choose what I want. First came the finding, and I initially walked in circles just to locate what I wanted (I'm sure that by the end of the month the finding will no longer be an issue - I anticipate many trips with memorization of the store layout). Then came the choosing. Who knew there were so many options of smoke detectors and push brooms and motion sensing lights?!

Needless to say there were no quick decisions made and I must have circled that store at least 2-3 times. Thankfully I had my trusty roommate and friend Melissa with me and she "encouraged" (insisted?) that I make some decisions. Otherwise I probably would have walked out with only a broom and a fire extinguisher, but still would have needed to go back to complete my list. And 100 trips to Lowe's is not what I have in mind as an ideal way to spend my evenings/weekends.

And, let's get serious... there are no life-altering decisions being made here. It's lamps and paint. Nothing permanent.

SOLD

So I did it. Last Thursday, on the 27th of the month, I closed on my house. It was weird, and to be honest I still feel like I'm just playing (besides, of course, the large sum of money that was debited from my bank account for the down payment). At the closing table, I'm pretty sure the previous owners (who are an older couple that had owned the house since the 1970's) saw me and thought, "YOU are the one who is buying our beloved house?!" They were very helpful with little tips, but I'm also pretty sure that the wife threw the keys at me across the table.

I will be changing the locks.

Also feels like I'm playing because I have only been able to be over there twice over the past 5 days. I got the keys on Thursday night and then my mom and I both had Friday off. So we spent Friday mopping, cleaning toilets, wiping dust, scrubbing showers. Until my new mop, that I had spent 20 minutes in the aisle of Target picking out, broke. So that put an end to the cleaning fun. And then I had to work all weekend long - my one holiday weekend for the year at the hospital. And with graduation open houses and my niece's 1st birthday party in between I haven't really been back since Friday; the work resumes this week/weekend.

Planned work:
Painting (all the walls are white, or some shade of it)
Sprucing up the yard (it has been VERY neglected)
Refinishing the hardwood floors [possibly]
Removing wall paper from the downstairs 1/2 bath [low priority, this sounds like a fall/winter project]
Upgrading the electrical (we have an electrician friend who is going to rewire a few things for me)

I'm excited about the projects and the potential. I'm sure there will be days when I want to throw in the towel. But I can't wait for my first BBQ/house-warming party once [most of] the above list is complete!