Frugal NESTing: MJ's Bedroom Makeover

My beautiful BFF. And talented, too!

We have a special guest post today. My bestie, MJ, recently decided to paint her room, and I was blown away by her creativity on a very tight budget. When I saw the pictures and was blown away by the transformation, I begged her to write a post because we're so into frugal DIY projects here on the NEST. Without further ado, here's...

MJ'S BEDROOM MAKEOVER

BEFORE: ugly, ugly weird colour.

I live in beautiful part of Toronto, filled with huge trees and a big park right beside the townhouse where I rent a room.  There are so many trees that on the sunniest of days I can always find plenty of shade to cool off in.  This is a wonderous and amazing thing.  However, my room was painted a dark, dusty rose kind of colour which a) could maybe be a nice accent colour but not nice for four full walls and b) between the colour and the glorious tree canopy meant that I needed a lamp on by 3pm and if it’s a rainy day then all lights must be on.  With the days getting shorter the time to paint was now!

BEFORE: such a dark space.

The only thing slowing me down was finances.  I took my Darth Vader piggy bank and shook out all the quarters and loonies that I’d been saving for the past two months and combined that with the last $20 in the bank.  Armed with a $50 budget I headed off to Home Depot.  I went straight to the mis-tints hoping to score a usable colour that no one else had liked and found a gallon of a decent leafy green for $9!  A nice green but again, not four full wall nice.  I knew covering the dark rose colour would be challenging and I would need a lot of paint to cover it up.  Hooray!! An 8L pail of white primer on sale for $25!  I grabbed a combo pack of rollers, a tray and edging brush on my way to the cash and the total cost was $50.79.  Score one for the savvy shopper!

AFTER! Bright, cheery, and matchy with the bedding!

I got home, put half my furniture onto my balcony and cramming everything else into my closets and began the transformation.  Remember how I was a super savvy shopper and was a mere 79 cents over budget?  Do you know what happens to the savvy shoppers who save by not buying a drop sheet?  They flip a tray of white paint off the top of their entertainment unit onto the dark blue rug.  I tried using harsh language to clean it up but weirdly that didn’t work.  I scooped up as much as I could and threw a towel over the rest and kept on going.  I couldn’t unflip the tray, it was what it was and momentum could not be lost!

Two coats of primer covered the white well enough to suit me until I find a colour I really like and can afford to buy it (and a drop sheet) and I used the green for the base-boards and trim on the closets. Well, I will do the trim on the closets. I saved  money by not buying tape either and after one experimental square it’s clear that without it the transformation will resemble a first grade art project.

My room is %100 brighter and homier now and I even managed to create more space when rearranging the furniture after.  I hung up my guitar and a bit of art and now it feels like my own happy, cozy space. Extra bonus in life is that my landlord is not even a bit mad about the carpet and is changing it soon anyway. Yessssss!

You can follow MJ on Twitter, though she doesn't say much, but when she does it's pretty profound. Kinda like Silent Bob. Find her at @tinypiesrtarts. 

Montreal for a Day: the NEST gets away from the nest.

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY...

Beautiful churches in MTL!

The new house has been all-consuming. Any of you who read our blog regularly already know this, of course, from reading many posts about the escapades and adventures we've been on while trying to prepare our nest. But there've been a couple of misadventures recently that showed we were both reaching the end of our patience and coping skills.

First off: turns out that if I see even a drop of Brian's blood, I get faint and start to gag--making me the worst First Responder ever and sorta a bad wife, because all I can do is shout out the location of the bandaids as I hang my head over a trashbin--and this is surprising because I have never had trouble with blood, cuts, or grossness before. But maybe more intriguing is that when Bri bumps his shin, stubs his toe, or hits his head, I cannot help but snicker. I don't understand how my brain works; why a gash on his thumb from a knife would make me puke, but a bone-crunching whack with a hammer would make me giggle, is beyond me. But there it is, and if it makes me an evil person, that's too bad because the best I can do is stifle my laugh.

Painty dog.

Secondly: it's vitally important to step away from projects like house repairs and GET OUT AROUND HUMANS. Brian works part time outside the house, but his bookkeeping business is home-based, and so naturally he's been the lead on some of the finishing touches on the house, like painting the living and dining rooms. I came home on Wednesday to find him painting a second coat on the dining room, and as we were talking, our pug Mr Darcy sat down and leaned against the freshly-painted wall. Brian hollered at him to get off, and with something akin to an eye-roll, Darcy stood up and moved away from the wall. His back was now painted a light buttery yellow, and the wall had a fur-textured patch the size of a toddler. (Mr Darcy is large and fat, in case you're not familiar with our pug dog.) Brian was livid about the texturized wall, and MJ, who I was on the phone with, suggested he just pick Darcy up, and texture the whole wall. "We'll call it 'pugging'," she added helpfully. When I relayed the idea to Brian, he looked me, doubled over in mirth and just raised on eyebrow. He then continued on with painting the room, pausing only to kick Darcy out of the way a couple times.

BREAK TIME.

So clearly we're all in need of a break, and I had the genius idea to spend the day in Montreal. It's only a couple hours away, and it had a few things I really wanted to see: the Biodome, a spot I love to visit; and Ben, my friend-and-former-summer-student who I miss keenly since he headed back to school. Add in the Montreal Comicon, plus my friend Hal, and you've got enough incentive to make us pile into the car and head down the road.

For anyone out there working on an all-consuming project like a house, I heartily recommend this type of adventure. The twelve hours we were away refreshed us both and gave us lots of good memories to get through the last of the house tasks. Now at least I can close my eyes and think of penguins while Brian is bleeding from any number of various house repair-related injuries. 

Here are photos for your enjoyment; I'll let them do their own talking. 

And Comicon...

Weapons check. Hilarious.

Everyone needs comics.

Tank Girl, because she's awesome.

The Flash waits for his date outside the ladies' room.

Yum.

Yep, that's Brent Spiner--Data from Star Trek.

Malcom McDowell

Even Starfleet captains need to stop for nourishment. Not from a replicator, this time.

Home, Sweet Home. And hives. Lots of hives.

My new beautiful kitchen. See our
clever pegboard backsplash? :)

We have moved into the new house. I had no idea it would be this much work and this much time. I haven’t written a word in days, and if I never see another cardboard box again, it will be too soon.

We woke up that first morning in the new house to a gorgeous sunny room. Naturally this startled me, so I sat bolt-upright in bed at 6am. You see, in our old place the bedroom was in the attic and the windows were tiny, and you had to become super-sensitive to sunlight or you’d never know it was morning. Here, the window is huge and is right beside the bed. We look out on trees and a park. It is heaven.

Not a single bat has flown at me in the time we’ve been here. They are almost suspiciously absent from our lives. It reminds me of the time I got rid of a really bad roommate, but then still found I missed them a little.

Brian is dead tired and I suppose I am, too, but it feels good. We’re only half unpacked and I don’t even care. Well, except I’d really like some curtains, because living at ground level for the first time in years has reminded me that people can see you in your skivvies when you’re getting breakfast together in the morning. Oops.

Behold, my hivey legs.

It hasn’t been smooth. I woke up on the first morning here with hives all over me. I looked like a little kid with chicken pox, frankly. It wasn’t attractive, and it took us two days to figure out that it was the construction dust doing it to me. Brian had to clean the house from top to bottom while my mother washed all my linens. The reaction has ceased but has left me with red splotches that I hope will heal nicely.

But so far, I am thrilled with the house. No, not the neighbours, and no, not the commute…but the house is lovely, feels huge, and ohhhhh, that sunshine.

This is a tiny sliver of ‘happily ever after’, so I’m going to leave this post just as it is. For now. 

Sunshiney happy bed!

Building the Nest: Repairs and twitchy eyes

You may be wondering why we haven’t updated the blog in a week. (If you didn’t notice, then you’re not here enough.) It’s rare for us to get so busy that no posts go up, but hear me out: this is the order of events that happened between last week and this one:

SUNDAY:

Jordan and Brian go back to the apartment to sleep after a long day of working on the new house. Jordan steps into the bedroom and immediately throws herself onto the ground in an evasive manoeuvre as yet another bat dive-bombs her from above. After Jordan crawls backwards down the stairs, Brian startles the bat into the office and shuts the door. Bags are quickly packed and Jordan and Brian sleep at Jordan’s parents’ house.

MONDAY:

Jordan undergoes scary medical test, complete with sedatives. Jordan doesn’t remember the rest of the day. The bat catcher comes and says the bat is gone, and tells Jordan she’s a wuss for not catching it herself. Jordan is too drugged up to slap the man.

TUESDAY:

Brian finishes the drywall and patchjob on the dining room ceiling and bathroom walls after repairing the leak, ready for tiling, at the new house. Leaking pipe is soldered and new tub has been installed.

THURSDAY:

Brian spends the day scraping spackling off the dining room ceiling to prepare for repainting. He rinses his head in the new tub while Jordan tidies downstairs. Jordan hears the whoosh of running water, then the telltale drap-drap-drapdrap-drap of a leak. Brian follows the sound down to the basement, where water is pooling on the floor. With  many curse words, Brian yanks out his drywall patch job and discovers another pipe, cracked. Jordan has a cigarette.

FRIDAY:

Brian asks Jordan in the morning, ‘What colour would you like to paint the living room?’ Jordan says, ‘No colour; why?’ Brian says, ‘Well then, there’s going to be one raw drywall wall, because I’m going to have to cut out the wall to fix the pipe today.’ Jordan says nothing, and stays as far away from the new house as possible. Brian and Jordan’s dad spend the day patching the cracked pipe. Mention of the house makes Jordan’s eye twitch.

SATURDAY:

Brian teaches himself how to tile, and tiles the bathroom. Jordan sticks to packing up the old apartment.

SUNDAY:

Jordan hears Brian testing the water, just to be sure of his pipe repair. She tries not to ask herself why this is being tested after all the tile has gone up.

Do couples buy houses to test their resolve to co-exist with each other? I haven’t yet met a person who said, “Oh, you’ve bought a house? What a wonderful experience you’re about to have! It’s like a second honeymoon!”

Brian is in his glory. I hope he writes about it this week, so I can read it and try to understand. Every now and then, he’ll wander over to me, covered from his head to his toes in plaster and grouting, and just smile at me. I give him a face I’ve seen on popular girls in high school when nerdy boys would stare at them; the look that says, “What do you want, weirdo?” But Brian just keeps on grinning until I roll my eyes and walk away.

Darcy and I are hiding out in Brian’s new office. At least there aren’t any bats here.

(Knock on wood.)

Building the Nest: Bathroom woes

I swear, there was a bathroom here when I left last night.

I remember moving boxes into this, our new house, in preparation for the final big move at the end of the month. I remember looking in this bathroom and thinking about colour choices.

And now, less than 24 hours later, I come in to find…that.

To be fair, I had gotten a quick phone call from Dad while I was at work that morning. He said that the leak—the tiny leak from the tub that was supposed to require only a tiny patchjob—had not been as simple as predicted. The hot water pipe, not the drain, was the leaky culprit. This meant, apparently, that the wall had to be torn out a little bit.

Of course, when they tore out the wall and found that a previous owner had filled the wall behind the tub with newspapers instead of insulation, that required more demolition.

I should be grateful, and I am, that Brian’s brother is a drywaller. Because I came into the house, saw, the bathroom, and then walked right back downstairs to the kitchen, where I painted a first coat on all the walls; and by the time I was done that, the boys had put up walls again, and installed the (new) tub. Why a new tub? Because the previous owner had painted the old one by hand and it felt like sandpaper. And because once you’re redoing the whole damn bathroom anyway, you might as well replace the tub while everyone is helping out. It was a project we’d planned to delay, but sometimes you don’t get that luxury.

I’m calmer about it now, though the newspaper discovery resulted in the vinyl shower stall being torn out and destroyed, so now we’re also going to be tiling. I am not exaggerating when I say that our teeny tiny repair job has quintupled in price.

I’m grateful for Brian and his brother, who both have been through house renos with their parents. And I’m grateful for my dad, who played foreman and helped Brian sodder pipes together. (Did you know people can soder their own pipes? Neither did I.) I am also grateful for my mom, who, I’m told, brought the men lobster rolls and veggies to keep them fueled.

I am grateful for credit cards, and carefully crafted spreadsheets that will help us pay back said credit cards.

I am grateful for my old pug Mr Darcy, who sat by me while I turned off my brain and painted the kitchen. I am grateful that he’s such a dork, because he amused me by getting yellow paint all over his butt, then managed to mascara all his whiskers in blue by sniffing a freshly-painted table.

We will look back on this and laugh one day. But right now, I just sigh.

Keep Calm and Paint On.

Furniture Makeovers: painting old wood with Jordan

We spent the weekend at the new nest, working on things like wiring and installing a dishwasher (okay, Brian was doing that, not me), and revamping old furniture to make new treasures for our house (that was me). As I worked on two very different dressers in the backyard, I thought about what tips I can offer up for the amateur furniture makeover artist. I’ve got a long history with refinishing furniture (in the past, I’ve done some pretty cool commissioned paintings on furniture), and I’ve found there are two ways to refurb an ailing wooden treasure: the fast way, and the right way. But don’t despair: there’s a time and place for both.

PAINTING OLD FURNITURE: THE FAST WAY OR THE RIGHT WAY?

Refinishing furniture can be a complicated, smelly, toxic, messy, onerous task. Doing it the right way usually follows these steps:

1. Remove old paint

2. Sand

3. Apply primer

4. Sand

5. Apply paint, and sand again if needed

6. Clear coat

Dresser 1: BEFORE

The fast way goes like this:

1. Paint and pray

I usually follow the ‘right way’ when I’m doing a commissioned piece, but when it’s just for me, I have a third method which feels like a fair compromise:

COMPROMISE: JORDAN’S HALF-FAST FURNITURE REFINISHING

1. Sand the piece with rough paper and a mouse sander

2. Prime

3. Paint

4. Clear coat

TIPS FOR FURNITURE MAKEOVERS

Here’s a few tips I’ve learned, primarily through trial and error and misery:

Dresser 1: AFTER!

a. SPRAY PAINT IS NOT ALWAYS THE ANSWER. Spray paint needs a lot of coats to be effective, and tends to chip or scratch. If you want a brushstroke-free finish, use a roller with ‘real’ paint.

b. TYPE OF PAINT COUNTS. I buy a lot of ‘mis-tints’ at the hardware store—paints that have been returned because the colour was wrong, and are then sold super-cheap—but I always check on what type of paint it is. For furniture, a semi-gloss is better than an eggshell finish, though your clear coat will help with this as well.

c. QUALITY IS KEY. Choosing a higher-quality paint may mean the difference between one coat and three. This means in the end, the higher-quality paint will actually save you money.

d. TAKE BREAKS BETWEEN STEPS. Water-based paints need three days to off-gas, and oil-based paints need a week. This means that, no matter how dry your paint seems, it’s still releasing gasses for 3-7 days. During this time, do NOT apply your clear coat; you risk accidentally pulling off the paint, and you can end up with a finish that easily chips or peels.

Dresser 2: BEFORE

e. TAKE RISKS ON THE TRASHY STUFF. The blue dresser seen here was free, found on a street corner, in terrible shape, and headed to the trash. The creamy one was purchased (for a whopping $20), is more unique, and is higher quality. So naturally, I did the risqué paintjob on the cheap/free dresser, and did the ‘safer’ colours on the more expensive piece.

f. CONSIDER LOCATION. The creamy dresser here will now be used as a buffet/sideboard in our dining room, while the blue dresser is indeed still a dresser. But many people pass up great deals on furniture when they think they don’t have a spot for it. I’ve seen adorable high chairs made into plant stands, TV stands made into benches, and dressers made into kitchen islands. Don’t get stuck thinking about furniture as a one-trick pony; it can be as versatile as you like!

Dresser 2: AFTER

g. TO PAINT OR NOT TO PAINT? My dad cries a little every time I paint a piece of furniture. The reality is, many of the pieces I salvage were going to end up in the landfill if I didn’t paint them up. Yes, that ancient dining room chair might be a pricey piece if you could ever find a buyer, but sometimes no one is looking for one raggedy old hoopback. Painting it up and revitalizing it may give it another twenty years of life in a person’s home. People who freak out every time someone paints a chair are probably the same people who say women shouldn’t have to colour their grey hair: I’m sorry, but some of us just aren’t ready to look our age.

Look at those painty, painty hands.

On the flipside, of course, some pieces should be left well enough alone: church pews, cast iron sewing tables, and things handmade by your great-grandpa may deserve to be properly refinished by a professional. Ask yourself: is the look of the wood what gives this particular piece its magic? If the answer is yes, put the paintbrush away.

That’s just a few tips to get you thinking and hopefully get you feeling a bit more courageous! Worse-case scenario, you have to prime and paint again. Relax, folks; it’s just furniture. Now see what you can create!

The Homeownership Continues: our little house with pictures!

Our kitchen!

THE GOOD NEWS

Well, we appear to still be signing things for the new house all the time, and we are waiting on some lawyer documents that I do not understand--thank god for Brian--but I think we can now safely say that we've bought a house. The inspection went pretty well, no doubt because we spent a little extra to get a well-reputed company to do it; they did find some minor things, like a missing hand rail to the basement, and a blocked laundry vent that needs vacuuming. 

THE NOT-SO-GOOD NEWS

They also found a leak in the bathtub drain that is apparently easy to fix. For those of you who recall our old apartment (the one we fled because the bathroom floor had melted under the tiles into a muddy cesspool of black mould), you can imagine the chill that went down my spine upon hearing this news. But we negotiated for repair fees, and all the men (Dad, Inspector, Brian) are in agreement that it's a quick fix, and no mould has begun. Hmm. I'll believe it when I see it fixed, properly, and after I buy my own mould detector. 

Mom inadvertently freaked me out his week by asking me if I was really confident in the inspector; in fact, her exact words were, 'Did he seem professional to you? Did you trust his skills?' Which are good questions to ask, of course, except that she had recommended the inspector, so I have no idea why she would ask me such a thing.

LEARNING TO LET GO

This entire experience has been a lesson in leaning on others. As I'd only joined in with Brian's house hunting a couple weeks ago, I didn't have the time to learn a whole lot about the house buying realm. Consequently, I am grateful that Brian has learned so much, and that my mother is a trained former mortgage broker. Still, it's a bit weird to turn on my internal elevator music and leave my financial wellbeing in the hands of others, no matter how close they are to me. There's strangers involved, too, of course: a mortgage broker, a realtor, a bank giving us this giant loan, an inspector, and a coven of strangers in the form of a condo association. 

I’m actually getting excited now about the whole house thing. I’m excited to be able to leave my windows open without being repeatedly wakened by the sound of 18-wheelers going down the highway. I am so eager to set up my new (smaller but nicer) art/writing/office room, and to have Brian set up in an office of his own so that his myriad school and business papers don’t keep getting left around the house; I’m starting to feel like I live with a humanoid magpie who’s trying to build a nest out of all these papers by plastering every surface of the house with them.

But if someone else wants to PACK for me, be my guest.

Okay, without further ado, here are a few photos to start!