March Madness

After we bought our house, before we had ever moved in, I was gunning for a new master bath.  However, we were in a hurry to get in and already had enough projects to take care of, and it wasn't a necessary renovation just an aesthetic one.  Or so we thought.  A few months after using the bathroom I noticed the squeaking of water under the floor of the shower, then it started to smell, then I started to panic when I would use bleach to clean the shower and it was still emitting foul odors.  Out it came.  I have the pictures to prove the ecosystem that was forming under the shower, but I prefer to block it from my memory.  A snowball effect happened after that.  Tub. Vanity. All. Had. To. Go. Then I just went crazy and added a sparkly wall to make things pretty.  

Before-Vanity, a glimpse of the  jetted-tub.

My new life goal is to rid the world of jetted tubs.  A nice idea.  Not very sanitary.  Cutting open the pipes confirmed all the internet conspiracies against these bubbly, disease-ridden objects used for cleansing!  Images too graphic to share.  Don't worry I'm sure your tub is safe.

Before-old shower

The crusty mouse we found in the wall of the shower.  The least graphic picture I can share with you.  

Yup, it was that bad. 

Before-the ugly dresser Jed brought home for free last summer that I banished to the garage.  To cut costs after learning the vanity would have to be replaced, I reassessed it's purpose/value.

During-The best was the gaping hole where the plumbing was being reconfigured. 

 I can still smell the cement dust looking at these pictures.

AFTER-

Ahhh!  Vanity turned out.  Thank you Annie Sloan chalk paint.  And I know what is under that tub!

AFTER-

The shower.  We still have to finish up the wall/outlets and paint job but the shower is done.  I love the glass doors.  Glass doors with shower guard, which means I can skimp on the squeegee, once in awhile, and it won't be destroyed.  Genius for lazy people.  Jed loves the rain shower.  He's tall.

While the tile guys were here we figured we'd have them put up the kitchen back-splash as well.  Green glass.  I told Jed I wanted glass tile and he brought me home four or five samples, I've never made a decision so easily in my life.  When I saw these little goodies it was love at first sight.  Hopefully we still love each other in ten years.  (The risk of color.)

There is more to the story.  As in, we also needed a little bump in the wood floor fixed that ended up in half of our wood being ripped up.  Not the best day ever.  

Plus we did the front yard, a post for another time.

Lesson learned-too many projects at once is not the best idea.  March madness resulting.  If you saw me walking around talking to myself or crying you'll now know why.

A Decade

Jed and I celebrated the year of tin or aluminum last week.  

Ten years is a minor milestone to the "years of..." creators. It is my opinion they were either written in the depression or by a large group of penny pinching misers.  The sixtieth year is the year you get the diamond ladies.  Of course we'll all be dead or blind by then.  Anyway, 

Jed was good to follow through and brought me a shiny roll of Reynold's Wrap, kidding, he brought me home a tin (silver/tin-tomato/tomahhto) ring.  Tin/aluminum year could not have been done better, especially after a lovely weekend escape. 

Red Rock (the version you have to pay for)

All these years we've never been to the real Red Rock.  It's pretty, if you like trees better than sand and a million foreign tourists that you just know are going to careen to their death in such a natural environment.   However, the real moral of the story is, what better place to celebrate a solid foundation of marriage than among ROCKS.  Yes, rocks are the perfect metaphor for our marriage.  Strong.  Colorful.  Everlasting.  And can be easily buried in the  backyard, should the woman rock ever crack.  

Our one picture together before I fled the hurricane force winds and vowed not to get out of the truck again.  

Majestic.

At one point in our relationship I thought three months was a long time.  Ten married years is a lot longer than that, yet has gone by in the blink of an eye.  Jed still makes me laugh at all the right times, listens, and supports my Grand Master Plan.  (He came home one day from work and assumed I would know what GMP stands for in the construction world.)  We have our disagreements, even though he knows I am always right, and someday's I am driven to playing the piano in a very "purposeful" way but we love each other and have a rock'n marriage.  Sorry I couldn't help myself.  Also-not to be confused with rocky.  Yikes!  Here's to fifty more, I'm holding you to that sixty year rock.  

Really, I'm done now.