Gutters

My dad will never claim to be a great handyman. But my sister, brother and I we know the truth... we saw him fix the mower, the roof, the door, the attic, the car, that squeaky step and even build a desk. Every fall, religiously, he would clean out the gutters. Scraping out the mucky leaves he'd complain about this loathesome task but I knew there was a deep love in those activities. He would often turn to me and say:
"Michael, sometimes it's better to just pay the money and hire an expert…" he would pause and laugh. "Sometimes, it's just not worth the hassle."
The funny thing about this statement is that every time he said this he was in the middle of one of jobs doing it himself.
I would add this conditional to his statement:
Sometimes, it's better to just pay the money and hire an expert. But, sometimes, it's better if you roll up your sleeves and struggle through and teach your hand how to do the job.

Bathroom Tearout

I want this out there for everyone to know and realize as honest truth: Natalie and I are Monsters. Bathrooms don't stand a chance against us.

Bathroom Sketch

proposed bathroom:

little pieces of normal

The kitchen (although the cabinets are dumpy) is our current normal zone. My dad did an excellent job painting the walls this beautifully soft yellow. Natalie hung the shelves. We find in the spaces a haven from all the work and all the dust. A place where we eat and enjoy company. Without zones of normalcy I would go crazy.

This whole DIY thing really takes a long time

When Natalie and I began this project (we are almost two months in now) we had lists and dates of when different projects would be finished. Of course prior to move in we were going to have everything painted. Sure. Apparently you need walls to paint walls so here we are WAY behind schedule and beginning to accept the time that it takes to create a home.

Attack Cat

Our life is a little upended. Everything is still in boxes and Natalie is having to follow me around the house with a broom. There are footprints everywhere, and if you know Natalie and I you know that it's quite easy to distinguish my monster feet from her pixie size toes.

Mine aren't the only footprints around though. Maceo, our cat, used to have white legs... they are currently grey. He walks around the house lost, confused and dirty. The meows are constant and pleading. Thankfully he is strong and is adapting to his strange new place. I am of course still waiting for him to help me put up the ceiling, you know "carry your weight around here"