The First Floor of Bluestone Cottage

I don’t really think of myself as a criminal—maybe the odd speeding ticket now and then, that one time run-in with the police in a national park when I was a teenager, that other time run-in with the police in Washington Square Park as a freshman in college—but all things considered, I’d say my record is pretty clean. That is until a couple of days ago, when I found out I am a habitual trespasser. I put it in the present tense because I have both been trespassing for over a month and, apparently, will continue to trespass.

Evidently, once a house is classified as condemned by the city, entering the premises becomes illegal. This makes a lot of sense, I guess, but I guess I never really thought about it too hard. I especially never really thought about it too hard when the person entering the property also happens to be the owner, which is the funny position I find myself in now. That’s right: I am not technically allowed to enter the cottage, despite the fact that it’s in my name. I’ve been assured that the condemnation can be lifted as soon as the building permit is approved (hopefully today or early next week), but until then, I’ll be routinely breaking the law.

Don’t tell anyone.

The first time I trespassed, allegedly, was the day I set up an appointment to walk through the house with the listing agent. It was a Thursday. We were supposed to meet at the house at 2. I stood around outside until about 2:10, at which point I gave him a call. He picked up. He sounded sleepy.

“Oh yeah,” he told me, “so, the house is condemned. It’s really in bad shape. Feel free to just walk through it, and call me back later if you’re still interested, but it didn’t really seem worth it for me to come over since there isn’t really that much to see.”

“So, you’re not coming? At all?”

“No, no, that’s right, I’m not. Sorry to have misled you. It just doesn’t seem worth it.”

“OK, this is off to a good start. Is there a way for me to get inside?” I guess I expected a hide-a-key.

“Oh, yeah, so if you go up to the front door, and just push on it, you can walk in.”

“So, the door is wide open?”

“Well, there’s a door, but the lock doesn’t work. So yeah, take a walk around, feel free to call me later if you’re still interested.”

It later turned out he lived in California. He was in California. No shit he wasn’t coming. He was in California. Long story. Not worth it.

So that’s pretty much how the first viewing went. Me and Max, walking through this empty vacant condemned house, which was wide open to anyone who decided to walk up to the door and come up with the novel idea of pushing on it. Cool.

To my credit, I was more or less cool with this. To Max’s credit, he was scared shitless and just wanted to leave the whole time. Yin, meet yang.

So this is what we saw on the first floor.


When you walk through the front door, you’re inside this funny little room with the weird cutout niches in the wall. We’ll call it the niche room. It’s a weird space—the whole interior of the house is a little over 15 feet wide, and this room is only 8 feet deep. Everything was apparently carpeted at some point (the tack strips are all still in the floor). The floor is in really rough shape, but hopefully nothing some refinishing can’t take care of! I think they’re fir, but it’s sort of hard to tell.


Here’s the other side of the room. The baseboard radiators have been removed from both this side of the room and the side facing the front, leaving only the aluminum part that mounts to the baseboard that the cover attaches to. It’s OK—it’ll all get scrapped and a brand new heat system will take the place of this mostly-missing one.

That sliver on the right of this photo is the last of those casement windows in the front! There are three large windows that open out to the front yard, which is going to be so nice someday! They let a ton of light in, which is great since the key to making this house feel bright is mostly going to be the light that comes in from the front and the back.

You might be wondering why there are so many enormous holes in the wall? I might be wondering the same thing? I really don’t know. Apparently the previous tenants just totally trashed the house (and then, once evicted, trashed it more and stole half the copper), but to me that doesn’t totally explain the holes? Was it just…fun to be kicking huge holes in the wall?

The holes honestly make things a little easier, since I could see more what was going on during the walk-through. That’s the exterior sheathing you’re seeing beyond the drywall, and outside of that is the clapboard, meaning there is ZERO insulation in this place. It’s also helpful to see so much of the sheathing, since it’s actually in very good shape and doesn’t show signs of water/insect damage. Anyway, all of the drywall (walls & ceiling) are going to get demo’d out and replaced. There’s really no sense in salvaging what’s here, and having everything open will make running new electric and plumbing soooooo much faster and easer. I’m a jerk about saving original plaster walls whenever possible, but I don’t think there are even any left in this house. Drywall is no big deal to tear out, so I’m hoping for a pretty fast demo.


Past the niche room, there’s another room. We’ll call it the garbage room. Same sort of deal: it spans the whole width of the house, but this one is about 11.5 feet deep. My big plan is to remove the wall between the rooms (it’s not load-bearing), which will create the new living room. Since that will leave a very large room (sort of too large for this house, in my opinion), I think that should give me enough space to comfortably carve out space for laundry, a little closet space (there’s very little storage space in the house), and a half-bath. I’m still playing around with schemes to make all of this work in a way that makes sense and doesn’t feel awkward. I have a little bit of time before I really dive into the interior to figure it out.


As the name implies, this room has a lot of garbage in it. Evidently people were throwing trash through the broken window. Whilst in the thick of having mono at the beginning of the month, I stupidly took myself over to the house, boarded up this window, cleaned up all the trash, and then felt like I was going to die and took myself home and slept for four hours. Mono really threw a kink in the beginning of this renovation, but what are you going to do? Sometimes the timing is bad, and sometimes the timing is really bad.

The major ceiling sag situation above the window is right below the downstairs bathroom, so I’m sure there was some impressive leaking happening there to cause that. I’m hoping the damage is mostly cosmetic and won’t have affected anything structurally, but it’s one of those things where I sort of need to hope for the best and expect the worst. Even the worst shouldn’t be such a big deal…might just have to sister in a couple new joists or something.


Here’s the other side of the room! More destruction! I guess whoever removed a bunch of the copper pipes also decided to stack all of the baseboard radiator covers here, which is sort of considerate. It makes my scrapyard run slightly easier, maybe?

You might be noticing by now that the ceilings seem awfully lowwww. That’s because they are! When I first looked through the windows of this place I assumed the ceilings had been dropped at some point, but nope! They’re about 7.5 feet high, which somehow sort of works in this house, in a weird way. I swear, it’ll really just feel quaint and adorable and not like a basement when all is said and done. BELIEVE ME. I can work those low ceilings. I actually like them here.


Moving right along…the dining room!

I love this room. Seriously love it. Look how cute those tiny casement windows are. They are SO cute. The cutest, you could even say.

Like, so, so cute.


Oh, and did you notice? TIN CEILING. In a house that’s had a lot of original detail stripped over the years, I love seeing this ceiling in here. The pattern is so pretty, and it has this nice egg-and-dart detail around the perimeter. Who wouldn’t want that in their fancy dining room? Aside from the peeling paint, it’s in really good condition and should restore nicely.


My favorite part of the dining room, though, is the staircase! It’s SUCH a cute staircase. Yes, there is carpeting clinging to the first couple of risers. Yes, it is very filthy and gross right now. BUT! The rest of that curved bottom step is hanging around somewhere, so I’ll put that back, and then there will only be about 8,000 other things to do to make it so nice! With some paint and refinishing, it’s going to look like a million bucks.

But seriously, the newel post is super cute and the square spindles are super cute and that casement window is so cute and everything about it basically is very cute except the obvious filth and not-cuteness. You’ll see. You’ll see.


Oh, there’s the missing tread! On the floor in the bottom of this picture. Told you it was somewhere.

The dining room is currently pretty open to the kitchen, which I guess is nice? It sort of seems like half-wall was an attempt to do a bar area, but not executed super well…I’m not honestly sure what will happen with that yet. I’m also not very confident that the openings are going to be properly framed, since this wall is definitely load-bearing and that looks like a very not-pro renovation job. But we’ll see when we open it up.

Oh! And there’s a brick chimney behind that pillar thing. I’m not one of those people who always thinks exposing brick is a good plan, but I think it might be nice in this house! Bring in a little character and stuff.


OK, so, the kitchen! Things, uh, don’t improve much in the kitchen. The kitchen is pretty bad.

BUT. The kitchen is about 9 x 15, which is a great size (especially when you think about the size of the house!), and the layout kind of makes itself what with those two sweet casement windows almost-symmetrically placed with space for a stove right in the middle, am I right? This could be SUCH a good kitchen. I’m really a fan of this kitchen. Also, I still have my old kitchen fridge, so that’ll probably go in here (there’s nothing wrong with it), and the cast iron sink we took out of the upstairs kitchen, which is REALLY adorable and will look so cute and save some money, besides.

So basically the kitchen renovation is free is what I’m saying.

It’s so weird looking at these pictures…for some reason I just sort of never noticed how there are like a million paint colors happening in this house? It’s probably the intense smell of animal urine distracting me when I’m actually in it. Anyway, I sort of dig the color of that baseboard. Just saying.


It’s *possible* that there’s been a grapevine growing through this window for a while, allowing some moisture to get into this corner of the kitchen. Maybe. Hard to say.


On the opposite side of the kitchen is an exterior door and another window. The door is missing a mullion and is really damaged…I’m not sure if it’ll be salvageable or easier/better to just find a suitable replacement.


The most upsetting part of the kitchen is the basement access, which is literally a large hole in the floor. When not in use it can be covered by a large, heavy piece of plywood with 2x4s screwed into the bottom. Yikes. Horrors. I think it’s like this because the kitchen is an addition, so originally this stairwell would have been right outside the back of the house.

Honestly, if this were to all get redone, a clever trap door situation might be kind of cool, but unfortunately there’s no way for it to pass building inspection without a banister built around the opening, and that would effectively eat up about half of the kitchen. So that’s not going to work. The plan right now is to install new basement stairs that will run underneath the existing stairwell, and seal this over completely.

I’ll spare you a tour of the basement.

Sooooo, actually looking at and writing about these photos is making me feel mildly insane about this whole thing, just FYI. Like I’m still sane because I do have the wherewithal to look at these photos and feel crazy. That’s how it works, right?

But hear me out: believe it or not, there’s something almost easier about this house than my own house. First of all, it’s smaller, but there’s also less to try to save and restore. All of the walls can come out, which makes new electrical and plumbing fairly easy to run (electricians and plumbers generally bill time + materials, and nothing is a bigger time-suck than trying to fish things through finished plaster walls), then everything can be insulated and put back together. And because this house is so modest and quaint, it sort of demands a sweet and simple renovation—nothing flashy or too fancy materials-wise, which definitely helps keep costs down.


Introducing Bluestone Cottage: The Exterior!

OK, FIRST THING IS FIRST, PEOPLE: thank you so, so, so, (so) much, a gazillion times over, for all of the incredibly kind, excited, and extremely supportive comments, emails, tweets, instagram comments—all of it—over the past couple of days. I know I’ve said this before, but I really can’t express how grateful I feel to have such a wonderful bunch of people reading my blog. You guys make this such a pleasure, and I don’t take for granted for a second how lucky I am. Hugs for everybody!

SO, now that we’ve gotten that mushy stuff out of the way (sorry! I have feelings), let’s get to know this new house a little better! I loved reading all of the name suggestions for this new house—because we’ve gotta call it something—ranging from “Anne of Green Gables” to “Ramona” to “Brian” to “Gay Chalet” to “The Treehouse” to lots of “Cottage” variations, and after thinking long* and hard** I think we’re going to call it…Bluestone Cottage! The Cottage, for short. Kingston is sort of known for its widespread use of locally-quarried bluestone, and what I love about this house is its cozy, cottage-y vibe in the middle of all these big houses around it, so there it is.

*not all that long.

**not all that hard, either.

I shared a couple of exterior shots in the last post, but I figured it warranted its own post before we dive inside (which, if you think the outside looks rough…you’re in for a time!). Partly because I like the dramatic build-up, and partly because I didn’t get my act together and draw up floor plans, and partly because the exterior is where we’re starting!

With a project of this scope, it’s sort of hard to figure out where to even start, but a couple of factors went into this decision. First, this house desperately needs a paint job, and there’s a limited amount of time before it gets to too cold to paint and get some plants in the ground. Second, first impressions are important, and if I’m going to sell this place, the longer it at least looks good, the more interest I’m hoping I can generate from early on. Third, because this house has looked terrible (or, uh, not even much like a house at all from the street!) for so long, it’s important to me to at least get the exterior cleaned up and looking fresh ASAP. It’s important to the neighborhood, and it’s important for the house. Vacant/condemned/falling apart houses become targets for all sorts of bad stuff, and fixing up the outside will go a long way. I’m so excited to make this cute house cute again.


So here we are, standing on the sidewalk right outside. One more step down the street and the house would be completely obscured by the enormous overgrown shrubs, and one more step back and it would be blocked by the house next door. I told you, hidden! This picture doesn’t really reflect how much trash there was in the yard, but it was…a lot. I spent Day 1 working on clearing a lot of the yard, and I filled 3 contractor bags with garbage. This is part of what I’m talking about—I don’t want people treating this property like a public dump anymore! Hopefully a cleaned-up exterior will help out with that.


The side of the house (and the back) is similarly insane. The lot is only 23 feet wide, which leaves about 3 feet on one side and about a foot and a half on the other side. I’m not sure what this vine is (not poison ivy, thankfully!), but it’s really taken over this whole side of the house. The clapboard survived the overtake just fine, which is good. Anyway, the gate is just a piece of rotted plywood attached to some rotted 2×4 lumber, and theoretically would have latched to a bunch of scrap wood nailed directly to the clapboard on the house. Getting the gate open and getting to the backyard for the first time was…really intense. It’s literally like walking through a jungle.

The huge oil tank on the side is actually only a few years old, but its days are numbered. First of all, it totally blocks the pathway to the back of the house, and obviously it’s ugly. Additionally, the majority of the copper pipes in this house are missing, so now is a pretty good time to switch to a more efficient, cleaner, and cheaper heating set-up. Plumbing and HVAC is where I expect the majority of this renovation budget to go and I’ve quoted all the work, so hopefully there aren’t any huge surprises there.

This reminds me! I have to call the plumber today to try to set up a pressure-test for the gas line. The gas service has been disabled for over two years, so this is required by the utility company (luckily, they were OK with switching on the electric so we could operate tools and stuff, which is equal parts miraculous and a little scary…I make sure to switch off the main breaker at the end of every work day, but still). There’s no point in turning on the gas service right now anyway, but now would be a good time to know if a bunch of the yard is going to need to be dug up to run a new line. Let’s all hope that does not need to happen! Luckily Central Hudson, the utility company, has a program in place that would make running the line essentially free. So it wouldn’t be a big deal financially, but I don’t want to destroy new landscaping if we end up having to do that! Thinking ahead and stuff.


ANYWAY, let’s talk about what’s good here! I love the sunburst detail over the door, and the sweet entrance in general. The sidelights need a lot of repair but are salvageable. Obviously that arched part above has been eaten away/rotted, so the plan is to replace it with new beadboard. The front door and jamb is really damaged, and the door is pretty ugly to begin with, so it’s all getting replaced. Oh, and there’s a lot of missing crown molding around the top of the roof line of this little overhang, so there are definitely critters getting into the roof here. The crown molding is nothing very special (I found an exact match at Lowe’s!) so the plan is to remove it, add a proper fascia, and then put up the new crown and paint everything.

The light fixture stays.

Kidding. It also goes.


I’m a sucker for old windows, as we know, and one of my very favorite features of this house are the old casement windows! The house has both double-hung sash windows (similar to my house, so the top and bottom sashes can both move up and down and are counterweighted by big lead weights inside the wall), and these charming casement windows (like the window above the sink in my kitchen), which open outwards. Can you imagine this house in the summer with the windows thrown open and the breeze coming in? ADORABLE. They need a TON of repair work…there’s a lot of rot and broken panes all over the place, but I have a lot of hope that they can all be salvaged. Those middle two panels are going to be a special little challenge because the mullions are missing on the bottom! I’ll figure it out.


Remember when I got a picture of our own house from the city assessment records? Well, the quality of the photocopy my friend gave me wasn’t so great, so I marched my butt down the to the assessor’s office to see it in person. This was a day or two after I found out that this house was for sale and was already obsessed with fixing it, so I asked if we could pull the file for the cottage as well! Total aside: all the city workers I’ve met throughout this ordeal have been such a pleasure. The Department of Public Works, the Tax Assessor’s office, the Code Enforcement Officer, The Building Safety Division…all super nice and helpful people. I think they all think I’m half insane for doing this, but they all want the best for Kingston and our neighborhood. It’s so nice to feel like they’re on my side with this.

Anyway! This photo was taken in 1950 (so, like my house, the house was already kind of old at this point, although I’m not sure how old…), but look how cute it is! I think the clapboard was a light blue in this photo and the trim and windows were white. I like the contrasting sidelights and door…it’s been oddly challenging figuring out how to paint this place, so seeing what somebody did here is nice. Anyway, I’m not really trying to restore it to this appearance, necessarily, but I love seeing the house at a time when somebody clearly cared about and maintained it.

I’ll definitely try to replicate some things from this photo if I can, though. For instance, at some point somebody erected that weird fence around the whole front. I actually have a plan for most of it, but I think I’ll just remove the part that goes from front to back on the left side and try to put back some bushes that can grow into a hedge, like it is in this picture. Way nicer than a fence built a foot from the neighboring house, which has created this void of terror that’s impossible to maintain (and therefore overtaken by trash and vines and general horror). Technically the land the hedge would go on isn’t mine, but I’m going to go ahead and guess the landlord of this building isn’t going to complain if I clean up a little of his property, too.

The little arched trellis is so cute, right? I don’t know if I’ll try to do something similar or not, but it’s totally adorable and charming here. I almost wonder if something more substantial, with kind of a bungalow-modern vibe, should go back here. Hmmmm. Probably not for now, but maybe more toward the end of the project.

So see that  bluestone path leading from the sidewalk to the door? That’s why I put bluestone in the name—all those slabs are still there! They go from the sidewalk all the way to the back of the house, and there are also some big slabs in front of the door. You’d never really expect it, looking at the house the way it is right now, but it’s exciting to have all that material just sitting there, waiting to be seen again. That much bluestone would be SO pricey to put down today, so it’s very cool. At least to me. I am thrilled by odd things, admittedly.

We’ll go inside next, I promise!

The Next Big Thing.


When we closed on our house last summer, one of the big lingering questions in the back of my mind had to do with how much our decision was motivated by our total infatuation with the house itself versus how much we actually liked Kingston. At that point, we’d only spent a few short days in Kingston—we didn’t really know anybody here, and honestly we didn’t have a great sense of our neighborhood or the city as a whole. So we took a gamble: we felt like we had a good enough handle on the local real estate market that if it turned out we’d make a huge mistake, the purchase price of our house was low enough that even if all we did was go in and make a few improvements, we could probably unload it at a profit or at least break even. So we went for it and hoped for the best.

What we’ve found here, though, has surpassed all expectations or predictions. We quickly had more close friends here than we ever did in Brooklyn, and almost immediately felt like part of a community in a way I don’t think I ever have, anywhere. I love living in Kingston, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that way about anywhere I’ve lived (yes, including NYC…maybe especially NYC). The Hudson Valley is so beautiful and full of such amazing history, and Kingston itself is so charming, has so much going on, and really feels like a place where things are happening. We live within easy walking distance to Uptown Kingston, and the number of new shops and restaurants and stuff that have opened even just in the time we’ve lived here is pretty heartening. There’s a certain energy here that feels very inclusive, and interesting, and exciting, and it’s just…good. We made the decision a while ago to try to really make a go of living up here full-time. We still have to commute into the city sometimes for work, but given that a lot of what we do can be done remotely, it’s manageable so far. We’ve sub-letted the apartment while we give this whole thing a shot…so it’s still there if it’s really just not working out, but I don’t think we’ll hold onto it much longer. I really want to be here to stay. It feels right.

SO. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about, well, all sorts of things. What I want to be doing. Where I want to be. How what I’m doing right now fits or doesn’t fit into that. How I have this really pretty amazing platform as a blogger and how that must be good for something other than chronicling the renovation of my own house. Blogging is a strange, funny thing. I’m so lucky to have readers, and people interested in what I’m doing. I’m also really lucky that I’ve been able to turn this blog into something that generates income, especially because—at least here—I get to combine so many things that I love to do and present it exactly how I want to. Not many people get to say that about something they get paid for.

Blogging has also provided a lot of opportunities, some of which I’ve taken advantage of and most of which I haven’t. In case you don’t read a lot of blogs or just aren’t quite sure how it all works, the long and short of it is that a lot of companies want to be part of blogger content, sort of in the same way they’ll buy a full-page ad in a magazine or something. A typical sponsorship transaction for me at least generally involves the exchange of free product (which I then use and feature in a blog post) and an advertising fee for featuring said product. I always disclose when a post is sponsored, I only work with companies/products that I truly like and use, and I try my best to be as transparent about all of it as possible. Ultimately, I want my sponsored content to be a good thing—alerting readers to products or companies that they might not know about but could make their lives better. Isn’t that the point? And of course sometimes I can even convince a company to do a giveaway to pass some of that swag on to someone else.

Especially since buying the house, though, one of the big questions I’ve had to face is how to balance my want/need to make money from my blog (and, by accepting products, ease our own renovation costs) with still being a real person and stuff. Because I get it: I read blogs too, and it’s hard to relate to a project when parts or all of it are being paid for by a company. Consequently, I say no much more often than I say yes, and—truth be told—when I do say yes, it can feel sort of selfish just funneling that money and those products into my own house.

So, like I said, it’s made me think a lot. Isn’t there a way that I can take this amazing platform, and these opportunities, and put it toward something that doesn’t just benefit…me? What if I could get involved in a whole different project—something where I could take advantage of what I can offer as a blogger but in a way that benefits the community in a broader sense?

So that’s where I stood. Thinking. Considering. Dreaming.


And then this happened. And I’m very excited. Let me tell you all about it.

So here’s the story: this sweet little house is about a block down the street from my house. The block is filled mainly with fairly large Victorian-era houses (almost all multiple apartments now), but this house is much smaller (about 1300 square feet) and set really far back from the street. It literally took me about 9 months to even notice that there was a house here—the lot is only 23’ wide and the yard is so overgrown that you kind of have to be looking for it. Once I noticed it, though, I trekked through the yard and looked in the windows and read the big “CONDEMNED” sign on the door, and maybe that house grabbed hold of a little part of my heart. I sort of joked with Max that someday, I’d figure out how to fix it up if nobody got to it first.


Then, a couple months after that, I was casually looking at real estate listings on Zillow because a friend of ours is looking for a house. And there was the little house down the street, up for sale in as-is condition. Asking price: $20,000. Now, yes, that’s a lot of money—but for a whole house? Stuff like that doesn’t really exist much in Kingston…even the stuff that needs a ton of work is usually around the $100,000 mark, if not more (we kind of got the deal of the century with our house…we paid a good deal less than that, but that’s not really the point).

ANYWAY, so I emailed the listing agent asking for more information. I had to know what was so super wrong with it that taking it on would just be way too stupid and expensive and insane.

He described the house as a “total gut” but assured me that it had been cleared as structurally sound (hey, it’s a start!) AND, despite its condition, actually had a nearly-new roof on it. We set a date to walk through the house so I could evaluate the condition and see if it was worth looking into further.


This post is already getting long, so it’s maybe not worth getting into the whole crazy process of buying this house, but it was basically sketchy from start to finish. I used the same real estate agent who sold us our house (Nan Potter—if you’re looking for a house in the area, she’s great!), and the same inspector, the same plumber consult on the plumbing—so I felt like I was in good hands, but it was totally weird. Turns out the “agent” wasn’t actually an agent, so the house was only posted on Zillow. No For Sale sign out front, not listed on MLS…my real estate agent had no idea the property even existed. All of that aside, the information about the roof and the structure appeared to be completely true (this was backed up the Kingston building inspector who condemned the house—turns out it was just because it was vacant and in such poor shape, and the city wanted to deter squatters and stuff, but structurally the house was fine), and the title search came up clean—no outstanding mortgage, leins, or back-taxes. All good things. So yeah—CLEARLY needs a ton of work, but nothing totally insane or prohibitive that would just make it totally stupid as an investment. They agreed to take $19,000 for it. So we closed. And it’s mine, kind of.

So, let’s talk about the financial stuff, since I’m sure by now you’re probably thinking something along the lines of “what the hell?”. This is not the kind of house that banks are really inclined to give loans for, so this all panned out pretty differently than my house. What I really needed to make this work was an investor who could see the potential in the house, had some money to put up, and had faith that the financial risk would pay off and that I could do it. “So Mom,” I asked, “want to go into business together?” As a reader and frequent commenter on my blog and pretty much my biggest advocate, best friend, and supporter in my life in general, it didn’t take much to convince her that I was capable of taking on a project of this scope. The financial side of things took a little more convincing and lots of back-and-forth, but she agreed that the whole thing seemed to make good financial sense, and with the help of a lawyer, we worked it all out.

So here it is:

  1. We decided to roll $10,000 of our remaining renovation budget and savings for this house into the new house. It’s a lot of money…so long, refinished floors. See ya later, sandblasted radiators. Adios, renovated bathrooms. Check ya later, side porch tear-off. And so on. I feel like we’ve gotten our house to the point where we can occupy a lot of time on the cheap stuff (skim-coating, painting, that kind of thing). The house is very livable, and with the addition of the dining room, the soon-to-be pantry, the soon-to-be library, soon-to-be entryway/hallway, a bedroom that just needs a skim-coat and a paint job, we’re in OK shape. The more expensive projects can wait.
  2. My mother, bless her, decided to buy a $10,000 equity share in the house. In simple terms, this means that she has 10K tied up in the property, and how that breaks down percentage-wise (so, what percentage of the property she owns and is entitled to when it sells) will be determined when the renovation is complete.
  3. Additionally, my mom is providing a high-interest loan (technically, 10-year, 7% fixed) to cover some of the renovation costs. So basically she’s making more money loaning the money to me than she would with it accruing interest in a bank account, and it gets to go toward something awesome in the meantime.
  4. Because I’m acting as general contractor and managing the entire project, we agreed that it was fair to account for my man-hours as a way to build my own equity in the property. Additionally, any sponsorship deals I can bring in as a result of the blog will also help build my equity (so if a company provides, say, a toilet, the price of that toilet factors into my equity share).

SO. That’s how that’s working.

One thing (out of a million) that makes this project very different than my own house is that, obviously, I’m not living in it or planning to live in it, meaning I have carrying costs to deal with, meaning I have to get this thing done. I’m aiming for about 8 months. We can all point and laugh later on if I totally blow that, but I think it can be done.

So what’s the plan with this place? Originally I was thinking it could be a rental property, providing a little bit of supplementary income every month, at least until the Kingston real estate market picks up a little. Really, though—I don’t really think I want to be a landlord, and I think I’d feel so much better about selling it to somebody who will love and appreciate it as much as I do. Which I guess would make me a novice flipper, but that word has such negative connotations that I’m very hesitant to use it. I bought this house because I love it, and because it’s on my own street and having vacant, condemned, falling-apart homes like this isn’t good for anybody in the community, and because I was worried that somebody else would buy it and just continue to pay the taxes and let it fall further into disrepair. And I felt like I could do it, because of all the stuff I talked about earlier, and moreover that I wanted to do to it and I think it’s a good thing. I’m going to put a lot of blood, sweat, tears, effort, and love into this place, and if that can be appreciated and maintained by some young cute family buying their first home or something like that, I’d be beyond thrilled.

So what does this mean for the blog? Well, for starters, more content! I’ve pretty much accepted that I don’t think I’ll ever be capable of being the kind of blogger who posts everyday, but the pace of this project will hopefully be pretty fast and furious, and there’ll be a lot of ground to cover. I’ll also still be working on our own house (although the pace of that is probably going to have to slow down quite a bit for a while…), and sharing a freelance project every now and then…I guess it’ll basically be Manhattan Nest on steroids.

As I mentioned earlier, this will also (hopefully, god willing, because I am counting on it) mark something of an uptick in sponsored content here on the site. I know lots of people (rightfully, often) have reservations about sponsored content on blogs, and the only thing I can really say is that I will continue to be as transparent as possible, and I will continue to be selective about who I work with. I’m never going to agree to something just to make a quick buck. At the end of the day, I want Manhattan Nest to be entertaining, of course, but I also want it to be a high-quality, trustworthy resource, and I don’t want to do anything to compromise that. It’s not worth it.

I’ll come back in a couple of days to talk more about the house, show lots more pictures, talk about alllll the work it needs, etc., but I think it’s too much to get into all of that now! It’s going to be so great, though, and I’m so excited and happy to be able to do this. As always, I hope you’ll come along for the ride. It should be wild!

PS—Oh yeah, we need a name for this place! I keep calling it “the other house,” but let’s come up with something more catchy.

Look! We Have a Dining Room Again!

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We’re coming up on a year and a half in this house (insane, yes? not just me? k cool.), and even though I’m super proud of the progress that we’ve made in some ways, I feel like we’ve barely even scratched the surface in others! We started in the kitchen out of necessity, then I moved onto the little office so I could teach myself some stuff before I had the opportunity to mess up the more important spaces, then I dove into the laundry room because we were losing our minds trying to keep up with our filthy lives and our lack of laundry-doing ability.

I’ve been dying to really get into the more major rooms in the house, though! The kitchen and laundry room were kind of an exercise in working what we were working with (and in the laundry room, trying to add back some character and detail to tie it in with the rest of the house), and the little office was, well, small and more of a learning exercise than anything else. For the past several months, we’ve basically been living between the kitchen, the laundry room, and our bedroom, since all the other rooms were either jam-packed with stuff or under construction.

NOT ANYMORE! I don’t even really know where to begin talking about the dining room, other than to say that I love this room and have since the very first time we saw the house. It’s the perfect size, it gets beautiful light, it has a bay window (replete with fancy archway!), original moldings, old doors, old windows, all that good stuff. It’s been mocking me relentlessly. When we first moved here, I was completely delusional and wanted to have it pretty much done by Thanksgiving, which definitely didn’t happen. Then we tore out the ceiling in December, and since then the remodeling/restoration process spiraled into much more than I realized it even could when we toured the house initially. Aside from, you know, getting a new ceiling, there was also the matter of removing a non-original closet and sealing up the doorway, getting exposed heating pipes removed and buried in the wall, swapping the radiator with a different radiator and completely changing its location, re-running a lot of the old electrical work, repairing and skim-coating the walls, stripping down and restoring sections of molding, and finally the easy stuff like caulking and painting and moving furniture in and all that.

But! The hard stuff is DONE. I’m not going to say the room is done, because we literally just got it to the point of functioning like a dining room and I’m positive it will change and evolve as time goes by, but whatever! It’s a real room and worth taking pictures of! So there! Eep!

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Here we are on Day 1! The room was rocking some pretty ugly acoustic ceiling tiles, a bad light fixture, and some very wild walls that I will admit to appreciating without wanting to actually live with. The good thing about these walls is that the pattern is actually painted with a patterned roller over walls that were skim-coated probably 50 years ago, so aside from a section of wall across the room, there wasn’t really any wallpaper to strip!

Anyway, I’m a sucker for this view. The molding work in our house is one of my favorite things about it (I love how the door and window casings miter into the baseboards—I don’t think I’ve ever seen that anywhere else!), and the original doors and hardware still make me so swoony and sappy. The door on the right leads into the front parlor (the future library room) and the door on the left leads to a shallow linen closet that I haven’t touched yet.


Me too.

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Look guys! It’s a real house and stuff! I’m so super stupid happy about this development. Like so happy.

After the ceilings went up (which I’m soooo glad I hired out, after so much internal debate), I went to WERK repairing and skim-coating the necessary sections of wall. I don’t really have tons of pictures, mainly because it was super boring and I was bouncing back from mono and generally living a lot like a zombie, but it happened? Here’s a really bad photo from the other night that sort of shows what I’m talking about:


When all was said and done, I’d say the walls were about 50% joint compound and 50% the old pattern craziness. I tested the walls for lead, and luckily the test was negative, so I gave the pattern a sanding while I was sanding the final skim-coat just so I wouldn’t see the dimension of the pattern through the new paint. Totally worked. Groovy.

I painted all of the skim-coated sections and the new ceiling with drywall primer before painting. I mention this because drywall primer is like $10-13/gallon, and new joint compound and drywall REALLY suck in the first coat of paint, so you don’t want to be wasting your more expensive paint on that first coat. The drywall primer does a good job of sealing everything in and prepping for your actual paint.

SPEAKING OF PAINT! I’m so, so, so happy with the paint color. I kid you not: I have somewhere upwards of 20 light grey paint samples stashed away. I hated everything once I painted samples on the wall. Grey is so hard. I was really after a very pale grey, but one that would never, ever go blue or purple on me. I’ve noticed that I really prefer warm grey colors for old houses, so I needed something that had more of a yellow undertone than blue, but wouldn’t look mayonaisse-y or yellowish. It felt totally impossible.

And then something miraculous happened: I got myself a tester can of a Benjamin Moore color called Soft Chamois, and it is PERFECT. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, I think. It reads very white in the room, but up against actual white, it’s clearly definitely not white. When I started painting late at night, I had a mini panic-session that involved a lot of “am I painting my walls…tan?” but it dried into this gorgeous neutral that never looks cool and also never looks tan/taupe/yellow/custard-ish/etc. Greys and whites are so hard because what looks great in one space might look completely different and awful in another, so I can’t say that this color is perfect by any means, but it’s perfect here and I’m so glad I found a winner! The trim and ceiling are both painted Benjamin Moore Simply White, which is a fairly bright white that’s a little bit warmer than just pulling the can off the shelf. I love how it offsets with the walls. I’m basically very happy about the whole situation.

For all of the paint, I had it color-matched at Lowe’s to the new Valspar Reserve line, and I can honestly say that it’s the nicest paint I’ve ever used! And that includes Benjamin Moore Aura. It’s about $45/gallon (compared to $65 for BM), and the coverage was INSANE. I didn’t prime any of the crazy bright green pattern, and the Valspar Reserve covered it in one coat and looked flawless in two. I ended up using less than a gallon of paint on the ceiling and only a little over one gallon on the walls. I made sure to clean all of the moldings with TSP substitute before I painted, and it’s already dried really hard and solid and smooth and looks awesome. I’m really impressed with it.

So now that you know about my harrowing struggle of choosing a paint color, more pictures? Let’s do it.

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One of the things that drove me crazy about the drop ceiling was the way the archway clearly did not fit under it, so the situation was remedied with some creative crown molding work and a ton of caulk. It was not good. Trust.

Since the radiators were probably added somewhere around 40 years after the house was built, I didn’t feel bad about changing the location of the one in the dining room. It was very oddly placed between the opening to the bay window and the other window, obscured the moldings of both, and generally cluttered up a wall that already has, well, a lot going on.

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Yayyy! One thing I did NOT do was get into the bay window. I’m saving that for another time. There’s some water damage to the windows and moldings in there, and it’s going to be one of those slow jobs that I can deal with another time. So I stuck a Fiddle Leaf Fig in it because that is what I do.

SOMEDAY, the other window in the dining room will look out to the outdoors, but right now it faces into that weird enclosed porch situation on the side of the house. The side porch is really horrible and falling apart and full of tools and stuff, so I hung a cheap vinyl shade on the outside so I wouldn’t have to look at it in the meantime. Fancy!

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Because who DOESN’T love before-and-after shots carefully taken from the same angle, here’s another one! The closet on the right is the one that I removed (the space became part of the pantry). The door and casing were removed entirely (hoarded in the basement, of course, because you never know) and I framed in the doorway and patched it with drywall. Then I skim-coated the entire wall…aside from some missing baseboard molding (again, different project, different day), you’d never know the doorway was ever there!

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All that work didn’t end up being all that important, I guess, because I went and bought an enormous antique cabinet and stuck it where the door used to be anyhow. But anyway! I swear I did all that hard work and stuff.

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While we’re here, let’s talk about this cabinet! I LOVE it. It’s about 4 feet wide and 8 feet tall, and I found it at a clock shop in Uptown Kingston months and months ago. I casually stalked it for a few months, and then the store owner decided to renovate and clear things out at discounted prices, and sold it to me after some back-and-forth for $450. I’m guessing parts of it are about the age of the house (maybe a little older), but I have a feeling that it used to be part of a longer run of built-ins and various parts have been tacked on over time, like the crown molding and the bead-board backing, and I think the doors might actually be old storm windows…who knows! The point is that it’s here, and we got it into the house, and somehow Max and I managed to hoist the top onto the bottom all by ourselves, and I think it’s somewhat magnificent.

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The interior of the whole thing used to be this custard yellow color, but I don’t play that. When I got it home, I wiped down the inside with TSP substitute, primed it with shellac-base primer, and painted it with two coats of semi-gloss Bedford Grey, which is a Martha Stewart color that I had leftover from painting the frame and rolling cabinet in the laundry room.

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I love how it turned out! Bedford Grey is SUCH a good stand-by kind of color. For now at least, the top pretty much just holds pretty stuff I’ve picked up here and there (mildly obsessed with that green crock, FYI), except that big wine decanter in the bottom left corner that doesn’t fit anywhere else. The drawers hold napkins, placemats, candles, all that kind of stuff, and the bottom has all our tech crap like the printer and modem and airport. And also booze. It also holds booze.

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Let’s take a moment to recall how awful the ceilings were. SURE, FINE, they could have been a lot better with a coat of paint, but the best thing was really to take them down, even though it ended up meaning taking the plaster ceiling above it down, too, and truly starting over.

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We can agree that this is way better, right? Like if we agree on nothing else at least we can agree on this one thing.

You never really know how a drywall job has panned out until after you get it painted, and I’m happy to say that these ceilings are terrific! The guys did such a great job. Even though I wish blueboard and plaster veneer had been an option budget-wise, I’m more than OK with this.

The medallion, by the way, looks great. I’m thrilled with the size of it (32 inches!), and I think the design really suits the house without overwhelming the room.

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Before I put the medallion in place, I ended up painting it with a mix of watered-down primer and plaster of paris, which I mixed into kind of a soupy paste and slathered on. The mixture helped fill in some of the crevasses and soften the details, so the medallion looks more like real plaster and more like it’s aged along with the house and been painted a bunch of times. I feel a little ridiculous about all of this, but WHATEVER. IT HAPPENED. WE’RE ALL GOING TO HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY FAUX-FINISHING WAYS.

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You might recognize the light fixture from our kitchen renovation! I bought this thing at a thrift store in Sweden for $7 a couple of years ago, and I still love it in all it’s knock-off-y glory. We tried to love it as a kitchen light, but we wound up really needing something that diffused light better and more evenly, so the kitchen got a simple globe light and this went back into the lighting hoard. I LOVE it for the dining room, though. I think it looks adorable and it casts perfect light for dining, especially when it’s dimmed down all romantic-like.

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Max and I found the figure drawing at an antiques store for $40 a while ago. I sort of forgot about him but then I was hunting around for something to hang over the radiator and out he came. Nothing says “Welcome to Gay Gardens!” like a strange naked man on the wall while you’re eating dinner, am I right? I dig it. It was between this or a large oil painting I found, which Max swears is a portrait of Sigourney Weaver. (I tried, Sigourney.)

Those who have followed my slow descent into total madness closely may recall my fondness for the NORDEN table from IKEA. When I mentioned wanting this table, there was SERIOUS dramarama and outcry in the comments about how terrible and cheap and awful this table was, but I like what I like and I found one on Craigslist for $250 and I was like GET IN MY HOUSE, NORDEN.

A word about the NORDEN: it’s a very nice piece of furniture. The size is more than generous, it’s solid wood, it expands, and it’s so simple and versatile that it could work in a million different spaces and look amazing. This table is from 1999 and was used in an office, where I can only assume it took a beating, and it’s still in awesome shape and solid as a rock despite having been disassembled and reassembled multiple times.

will say, though, the design of this table has changed a bit over the years. IKEA has since made the table longer, for starters, but they’ve also changed the top—on the older NORDEN tables, each strip of birch is continuous from one side to the other, but now the top is made of many smaller pieces and looks more like a butcherblock. There’s also something different about the finish…my table is super smooth and the new ones have the slightest texture and feel a little…plastic-y? I don’t know…it’s still a really nice piece of furniture (especially for the price) but I do think the older design is nicer. Luckily the seller had saved the original assembly instructions, so I could figure out how to put the thing together!

Anyway. I have no idea if it’ll stick around forever. But I’m totally happy with it for now and I actually like the way it looks with the chairs, so…that’s that.

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OK, so, the doors! After I’d painted the walls and trim, I felt comfortable pulling the trigger on painting the doors black. I did this in my apartment like 3 years ago, and loved it there, and I already had the black paint, so I went for it! I really live on the edge that way. I used the same color: Onyx by Benjamin Moore, which continues to be my favorite black. It’s very slightly off-black, so not as stark as a true black paint, but it never looks even a little bit navy to me, which is a huge pet-peeve of mine with almost-black colors.

I’m going to be totally honest: I’m not entirely sure about this yet! We hung the doors 2 nights ago, and at first I was like “OMG I HATE IT” and then the next morning I was like “ok, maybe I don’t hate it totally” and then by last night I was kind of into it. I think it’s the white hardware that’s sort of throwing me. The hardware is original and beautiful and non-negotiable, and I knew maybe it was kind of a risk to do something so high-contrast, and…I think I just need to live with it for a while. I call them my Wednesday Addams doors.

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I love this itty bitty mirror. Just saying.

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I think that’s about it! I don’t  know what else to say! I’m so happy to be able to use this space again, and excited that I pretty much just get to futz with it from here on out. The only really major thing left is to refinish the floors (they’re in terrible shape…somehow the pictures make them look a lot better!), but that should really wait until more of the house has been renovated…it’s probably a next spring/summer thing. We’ll get there!

Now onto the next room! I vote library.

First There Were Ceilings, and Then There Were Walls!


First thing’s first: MONO UPDATE! Since I know everyone gives as many shits about my health as I do (lately, more shits than usual)—I feel a lot better! The fevers are gone, the sore throat is pretty much gone…I feel alright! Mostly I’m just spending a lot of time being mocked by my unfinished dining room and unfinished library and unfinished entryway and unfinished house and being told by everyone to put down the joint compound and trying really hard to not do a whole lot. This is difficult for me, because I like doing stuff. The whole thing is basically excruciating, since it’s making me turn toward things like my horrendously untended email inbox and sorting through mail and other stuff I hate doing. Luckily, in an act of stunning forethought—prescience, maybe—we got cable about a month ago and I have been settling RIGHT into the fragile Victorian lady lifestyle I was maybe always meant for? If fragile Victorian ladies had HGTV?

I have seen so many people decide to Love It and even more people decide to List It. I have watched Handsome Scott McGillivray transform many an income property. I have literally spent countless hours debating whether those Property Brothers like boys. And that’s just the Canadian stuff! I’ve also re-watched a lot of Rehab Addict and even discovered that Daryl’s Restoration Over-Hall is actually a really engaging show, and I was totally FREAKING OUT during the auction on Flipping the Block. All in just a few week’s time! So I’d say this whole mononucleosis experience has been time well spent. I never knew more about the mass public’s love of “open concept” living than I do now. Nobody likes walls anymore. It’s all been very informative.

ANYWAY, whilst in the thick of my mono-ness, I awoke last Saturday morning at 7:30 AM (which is not so fun when you are a feverish mucus-y disaster FYI, but I soldiered through) because the magical skim-coater wizard man arrived to start working on the hallway walls! I let him in, dragged myself back upstairs, went back to sleep, woke up a few hours later, dragged myself back downstairs to assess the progress, then went back to the warm, safe embrace of Canadian Home and Garden Television. While somebody else fixed my house. It was the most luxe ever, maybe, except for the nausea and stuff.

I tried to explain to the skim-coater that I was sick with Mono, but I’m not sure he totally understood, which made the whole thing feel extra bratty and ridiculous. Like, “here, I have an idea! You do this awful task for hours on end by yourself while I lounge around! If you need me, I’ll be upstairs, lounging.” I was riddled with shame throughout.

In case you need a refresher on the past year, the deal with this hallways was this:

1. When we bought the house, it had a few extra walls and doorways (one that bisected the entryway to create a vestibule, one at the back of the staircase to create the entry to the first floor apartment, and one at the top of the stairs with a door to the second floor apartment that continued down the length of the hallway, wrapping the stair banister). The two doorways at the at the front of the house were also blocked off. All of that came down last summer in various fits of demolition madness. (here, here, and here)

2. Also last summer, I spend days and days stripping wallpaper off all the walls and exposing the bare plaster. BOY WAS THAT A GOOD TIME.

3. In all the intervening months, it didn’t really make sense to fix the hallway walls because we were messing with electrical and plumbing, and I figured since these walls were already in pretty rough shape, it made the most sense to try to contain all of the holes to the hallway. So the walls basically got more and more destroyed as each new electrical path got run, we re-routed heating pipes through the walls, etc. etc. By the end they sort of resembled Swiss cheese. EVERY SINGLE contractor/handyman/electrician/plumber/acquaintance who has walked through my door has informed me that I should just cover the walls in 3/8″ drywall and call it a day, but I never considered that. First of all, it would be too easy, and I like things to be difficult and miserable. Second of all, I want my plaster walls to look like plaster walls! Drywall just isn’t the same. So there.

4. All along, I was planning to fix these walls myself. I spent a long time teaching myself how do major plaster repair and skim coating in the little upstairs office, so I felt like technically I was capable. And if I am technically capable of something, I should do it, right?

WRONG. Sometimes that logic is just bad. After seeing what a bang-up job the skim-coater did on a section of the hallway ceiling, my basic thought process was this:

Me: Wow, look at that ceiling.

Me: Yeah, I bet you could never make it look that good.

Me: Shut up, asshole, I totally could. It would take me many days and be miserable and messy, but I could.

Me: You probably couldn’t. Also, note that it took that guy like two hours to do this. And it’s so smooth. He barely has to sand it or anything. You could never do that.

Me: I’ll show you! I’ll show you when I tackle these walls!

Me: You should see how much it would cost to just hire it out.

Me: Hire it out?? Are you high?? You disgust me. How will I learn? How will I grow? How will I feel the satisfaction of looking at these walls and thinking smugly to myself “you did that, you handsome fox”? Never.

Me: What’s that? I couldn’t hear you from up there on your high horse. Just price it out.

Me: OK, if it’ll shut you up.

So that’s what I did. And the quote was $500. For the entire hallway, upstairs and downstairs.

Now, $500 is good amount of money, don’t get me wrong. But this is a BIG job and skim-coating is one of those things that takes skill and stuff. I was expecting something more like 1-2K, so $500 to have someone come in and do the whole thing in a couple of days AND have it look really good?

I never said I was a role model. I thought it over for like a day and then I was like WHY IN THE WORLD AM I EVEN THINKING ABOUT THIS? YOU’RE HIRED.

Because the thing about skim coating? It’s fucking miserable. Especially if you aren’t good at it, it’s just messy and slow and miserable and dirty and just not fun even a little. Then, since I’m not that good at it, I have to rely on a LOT of sanding to get everything smooth. Which is both tiring and also messy. And the space was so big and then the Mono happened and I was just like…UGH. I’d rather do ANYTHING else. Does anyone watch The Leftovers on HBO? A professional skim-coater is basically my personal Wayne. He could take my pain away. I just had to let him and also pay him money.


Just so you don’t think I’m a total pussy, prior to making this decision, I had actually started working on skim-coating the upstairs hallway, and it was going characteristically slowly and miserably. I started with trying to repair areas of the ceiling and this crazy area in the stairwell. I got into this a little bit back when we got into our box gutter catastrophe, but basically this whole wall of the house has bowed out over time, and since this is about the center of the house, the bow is the worst here. About a foot of the plaster at the top of the wall had totally separated from the lath and was just sort of hanging there, and the whole wall sort of coved inward and just looked super funny and wrong. Also, obviously, the main exterior wall has separated a great deal from the perpendicular wall at the top of the stairs, and the whole thing just looked AWESOME and totally not like a crumbly busted up mess at all.


Soooo, I started by using my oscillating tool to cut out fairly large chunks of the plaster (basically cutting out everything that had separated from the lath) and replaced the chunks with 1/2” drywall screwed into the lath and studs where possible. Since the big gap between the two walls wasn’t really big enough for a drywall patch (and there wasn’t really anything to screw into), I did a totally wrong thing and used spray-foam insulation, sort of to insulate but mostly as a rigid backer for my reconstructed corner. When the foam was dry, I used a utility knife to cut it back below the surface, and then constructed the corner using fiberglass mesh tape and joint compound (the 45-minute setting type powered kind).

Whatever, it totally worked. Sometimes you just have to do what works.

Then I had to use more fiberglass mesh and joint compound to try to blend the drywall with the plaster and make the corner look good, and all of this standing on a super high ladder super far above the floor and…ugh. This is what I’m talking about. I did this for hours, and it still looked bad, and needed more work, and it was tiring, and…I just hate skim coating.

So anyway. Handing over the reigns to somebody with more experience and more skill to finish off the mess I’d made just felt so GOOD AND RIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL. So sue me. Take away my DIY merit badges. See if I care.


I don’t even care, because LOOK AT MY WALLLSSSSS.

No seriously, open your goddamn eyes and look at them. They look like real walls. HALLELUJAH.

I know it’s just some joint compound and the walls aren’t even painted and the ceiling still needs some work (I hired him just to do the walls, so I still have some work to finish up there…) and the doors and the trim look like mayonnaise now, but MY WALLS LOOK LIKE WALLS!!! That corner above the stairs ended up pretty wonky (not as wonky as the picture makes it look), but whateverrrrr. Old house, don’t care.


Let’s remember what this looked like just a couple weeks ago….


And now!! Words cannot even express, y’all. Not walking into the house and immediately seeing so quite so much craziness is so thrilling.


For those interested in the process…I was kind of out of it during this whole event, but I was paying attention somewhat to how things were happening. Basically…

Step 1: All large holes and voids were filled with 1/2 sheetrock, which were screwed to lath or studs. For smaller pieces, he had this special technique of making the piece of sheetrock just the size he needed, then removing the excess rock from the outer edges of the paper, so the paper sort of overlapped the seams. Huh!

Step 2. Despite all of the many holes, these walls were actually in really solid shape with very few large cracks. If I were doing it myself I might have tried embedding large pieces of fiberglass mesh screen at least on parts of the walls, but he just dig out the cracks a little, covered them with fiberglass tape, and skimmed over that. Let’s hope it holds up! Plaster is a fickle mistress and continues to shift and crack over time, so it’s sort of hard to say how this will look in 5-10 years. I hope good.

Step 3. Skim-coating! Interestingly, the pro just used a 6″ knife, a mud pan, and a 10 or 12″ knife for the whole thing—no hawk and trowel nonsense. That’s pretty much exactly what I do…he just did it a lot better and faster and had better control over everything. He also mixed his own joint compound using a mixture of pre-mixed all-purpose joint compound, water, and 45-minute setting-type powdered joint compound. I thought that was interesting…my guess is that mixing in pre-mixed joint compound gave him a bit longer working time and made the final coating a bit easier to sand. The powdered stuff dries REALLY hard, which is nice, but this is fine too. I’m not complaining.

Step 4. Sanding! Since he had so much control and skill during the application, the sanding wasn’t too terrible. Definitely hard, definitely dusty, definitely took him a few hours, but not terrible.

june2013 august2014 september2014

After over a year of feeling like the progress on this house has been sort of slowwww, all of a sudden it’s feeling pretty fast! I couldn’t resist going back to one of the first photos I ever took of this area and comparing it to today…it’s a HUGE difference! Even thought there’s still a very deceptive amount of work to do in this space (even just getting all the moldings ready to be painted is going to be an enormous task! And don’t even get me started on the stairs…), it’s soooo exciting to finally see the house really taking shape into what, I guess, it’s always kind of looked like in my head! I knew she’d clean up nice.

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