8 Ways You Know You're a New Homeowner

You know you're a new homeowner when ...

1.  You can barely pick up a cereal box or bend over the day after doing yard work.

2.  Your caulk lines look like this:

3.  There's a pencil line above everything that needs to hang level:

4.  You think an entire yard's worth of leaves can fit into one green bin, and therefore are left with half a yard raked, half unraked:

5.  You realize how wrong you were when you thought having a fruit tree was awesome:

6.  You learn professional painters don't remove nails or spackle holes - they paint what you give them:

7.  You would rather be doing all of the above work than anything else on your weekend.

8.  You're too tired to come up with 10 reasons, so you settle with 8.

Love,
the bird and the bloke

Slow and steady wins the race.

In this story, the bloke is the tortoise and the bird is the hare.  When we first moved in, I (the bird) wanted to do everything yesterday.  I couldn't work on the house fast enough and wanted it all in our style right away.  The bloke ... not so much.

I was so annoyed!  I couldn't understand why it took him days - sometimes weeks! - to pick out a simple paint color.  Or when I would propose an idea, he would mull it over.  Well, in the meantime while he was mulling, my mind of course kept spinning and creating and designing.  Before he would have made a decision on the first idea, I had already come up with a new one ... and it was always better.

Aaah, I get it.

The bloke's patience always resulted in a better decision.  A win.  The tortoise always wins the race.  And in this story, the hare admits when she is wrong.  I was wrong.  All of those old adages are true.  Slow and steady wins the race.  Patience is a virtue.

So when we were updating the dining room, we did it piece by piece.  (This was before my aforementioned enlightenment, however, so it was difficult for me.)

We waited to find the perfect place mats.  And the perfect rug.  And the perfect wall art.  And the perfect nicknacks.  And in the end - months later (sheesh!) - I love our dining room.  (And it's much more economical to do it piece by piece!)  Here are the pics:

 

 

 

Here is a picture of the built-ins before ...

And here are pictures of the built-ins after (though the green color looks weird in the photo) ...

We're moving on to the master bedroom now, and I have a slew of craft projects on my to-do list.  So be ready for more blogs!

Love,
the bird (and the bloke)

30-somethings + home ownership = 50-somethings??

It seems that buying a house automatically ages you twenty years.  And not just in terms of increasing your maturity by increasing responsibilities, but in other ways too.  Over the past few months, I've noticed some changes - and I can only blame the bungalow.

1.  Gone are the days when conversations at barbecues start with "I'm so hungover.  Last night I ..."  Now my opening greetings are typically pretty boring: "Do you know how to control an ant infestation?" and "Oh, I see you recently stained your deck!" and "Did you get new windows?"  That's what I notice now ... paint colors, and window panes, and overgrown foliage, and roof styles, and kitchen counters, and light fixtures, and ... and ... and.  (It's so bad that when we go on bike rides together, the only words we exchange are "Look at that house.")

2.  We have a routine.  A routine!  I've prided myself on always switching things up, and before I knew it, we've been going to the same brunch spot every Sunday.  Which is ridiculous considering how many brunch spots there are in Portland.  We also bike to the Farmer's Market every Saturday morning to pick up that week's fruit and bread.  We've also found ourselves watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune every evening and playing a game of Scrabble every night before bed.  And let's not even talk about how EARLY bedtime is now!  Sheesh!

3.  I sit on the front porch admiring my mowing stripes.  If that's not a "more mature" thing to do, I don't know what is.  I take great pride in completed yard work. It's a good thing our porch is too small for lawn chairs.  If I was sitting in a lawn chair, I think I'd have to add more than just twenty years to my age.  Though I think back to the many hours my father and grandfather have spent sitting on porches, and maybe it's not the bungalow.  Maybe my porch sitting is hereditary.

Aged or not, we're loving our new lot in life.  (Lot, get it?  Ha ha.)  It's truly a blessing.

And here are some photos from our brunch excursions.  We go to a place called Slappy Cakes where you make your own pancakes at your table.  It's become a favorite because, guess what?!, they have gluten-free batter!

 

the bloke and his latte

 

the bird with her mouth full of flapjack

 

the bloke's creation - apple pancakes with chocolate syrup and sausage

 

the bird's creation - chocolate chip pancakes with bananas and whipped cream

 

the bird pancake!

 

the bloke pancake!

 

and the bungalow pancake!

(with the tree the bloke tried to knock down with the truck)

Love,

the bird (and the bloke)

Finally nesting!

When it's sunny in Portland, you are absolutely not allowed to be inside.  This is not a good rule when you're trying to do indoor household tasks, like unpacking and painting.  And it's been gorgeous here!  But thanks to help from mama bird and a few rainy days, we are finally done with the living room.

The valuable lessons we learned while updating the bungalow's common area:

1.  Never ever buy Ikea furniture if you plan to paint it.  After the arduous tasks of sanding and painting (which take WEEKS longer than you expect), you have to put it together.  And adding just a centimeter of thickness in paint makes this nearly impossible.  I'm sure it was an interesting sight seeing the bloke and the bird sitting on a shelf to add weight while trying to screw in the last piece.

2.  If I (the bird) feel really passionate about a paint color and the bloke is on the fence, I just need to make sure it's named after a food or drink.  "But this darker brown is called 'Cup of Cocoa.'"  "Oh, well if it's called that, how can we not choose that one?"  The red furniture in the living room is called "Cherry Tart."  The bloke said as long as I make him whatever food the paint color is named after, he's good with it.  The day we got done painting, I picked up two mini cherry pies from Starbucks and a 3 Musketeers bar.  It was close enough for his sweet tooth.

3.  When using toggle bolts, if the first one falls off inside of the wall, the next two probably will as well.  Yes, it took us three tries before we realized our screws were too short.

Now, for the fun part - pictures!

The Ikea shelves that we painted cherry tart red.

The bird and mama bird made these using fabric scraps and old frames.

One of the bloke's lamps that the bird got a hold of and painted cherry tart red.

 The other cute cherry tart red lamp.

A 360 degree view of the living room - I clearly don't have a very steady hand.

The next room to be finished - the dining room!

Love,

the bird (and the bloke)

A Day in the Life of Lola

It takes a unique (and probably a bit crazy) person to love Jack Russell terriers.  They're demanding, rambunctious, entitled, and precocious.  Lola is all of these - she is a diva. 

When JRT owners meet, they form an instant bond.  I have a virtual friend (we have never met in person) who has a JRT named Kooper.  She posted a blog about him that I just had to duplicate with Lola.

Lola LOVES the bungalow's backyard.  She especially loves that there's a cat next door to keep watch out for.  Since I work from home and my office has doors to the backyard, Lola is free to meander in and out as she pleases during the day.

Here is a typical day in the life of Lola:

10:00 a.m. - Optimum spot for sun and cat watching.

10:30 a.m. - Sun bathing by the pond.

11:00 a.m.

11:30 a.m. - Needing some couch comfort.

12:00 noon

 12:30 p.m. - She's made some big moves.

2:00 p.m. - Back to the couch.

2:30 p.m. - Uh, oh. Where's the sun?

3:00 p.m. - She's too busy pouting that the sun went away to notice it came back.

Knowing Lola loves to sunbathe, I sound like the worst mom ever moving her to Oregon.  She'll just have to get used to cloud bathing.  I have.

Love,

the bird (and the bloke)

Every day has its battle.

There's a theory (maybe not a good one, albeit, but a theory nonetheless) that successful couple's therapy can happen when the couple bonds over their dislike for the therapist.  So instead of battling each other, they team up to battle the therapist - it provides them with a common interest.  The bloke and I have had enough battles in the past few weeks to ward off any therapists for years.  Heck, we're modern day warriors.

First there was the toilet.  Before we had even managed to use it properly - if you know what I mean - it became clogged.  It's easy when a toilet becomes blocked - and you know you didn't do anything to clog it - to assume the other user was suffering the consequences of a large burrito.  But we both swear it wasn't us. 

So began the battle of the bird and the bloke versus the toilet.  They just don't make toilets like they used to.  The bungalow has those water-saving low-flushing toilets.  So the bloke's first attempt was to dump a bucket of water into the toilet.  No luck.  We finally brought over a plunger from the bloke's condo.  They also don't make plungers like they used to.  Plastic handles, really?!  What happened to the wood?  Anyways, round plungers in low-flush toilets don't create suction.  Second fail.

We had been toilet-less for probably a week by the time mama bird came to visit.  As I remember growing up, my childhood home was fraught with clogged and overflowing toilets.  This came in handy as my mom was able to successfully unclog the toilet (she's the plunger whisperer, I swear).  The plan was to teach us how to plunge before she left.  We didn't get the chance though, as it wasn't even 3 hours before the toilet clogged again (and again, not from a burrito lunch).

Crossing your legs to "hold it" can be distressing and nerve-wracking. To make it more bearable, we put our attention to the simple little tasks. Changing out the curtains in the guest bedroom seemed as simple as it could be. Loosen the rod, drop the old rags, slide on the new and re-attach the rod.

Loosen the rod?  Not so fast!  Of course it's attached with a screw.  A screw to suit no driver - it seems to have a special key that we of course did not have.  The option?  Remove the rails from the wall.  Naturally these are attached to the wall with more screws.  And of course, these are screwed deep into a wall that gives the impression of drilling to the center of the earth. This is no mean feat.

A feat that has to be repeated shortly after on another simple task.  Attach a small shelf in the bathroom and replace the toilet-roll holder. Whatever possessed the previous owners had clearly affected their tastes.  Such an ideal house adorned with some truly grotesque furnishings.  Either that or they knew the future owners would be tested to the full should they decide to replace these articles and insert holes in the walls.  For certain, these walls are not for coming down in a storm.  Heck, they'd withstand an earthquake and a hurricane.  At once.

After finally getting through the walls, we went to hang the fixtures, only to discover the screws were too big.  Whoops.  What do you do with 5/16" holes in your wall?  You make the holes in the furniture bigger, of course!

Our steel trap walls, however, still open their pores to visitors.  Ants!  We can only presume these co-habitants utilize some form of teleportation to transport themselves over, under, and around the newly sprayed barricades.  Uninvited and hungry, our little friends couldn't resist the kitchen.  They couldn't resist the bathroom.  They couldn't resist the office.  Most importantly, they couldn't resist the sweet tasting, mind-bendingly awesome ... BAIT!!!!

Every day has its battle.

Just before calling a plumber, the bloke found a snake in his garage.  The curtains are hung after sore arms and literally having to cut the old rags off the rods.  The bathroom fixtures are in place after using a bit of creativity.  And the ants are slowly dying off. 

The bathroom towel rack/shelf affixed to the world's strongest walls by giant screws.

 Pretty (un-ironed) curtains in the guest room hanging from the permanently affixed rods.

 All of that black stuff in the bait are ants!  I would venture thousands of them.

Now that we've reached a peace agreement with the bungalow (at least for the time being), it's on to the fun part ... more projects!  Here's another preview ... the living room is almost done!

Stay tuned!

Love,
the bird and the bloke

Meet the neighbors.

Right when the bloke pulled up to the house with the truck full of furniture, we met the neighbors.  But they didn't come bearing homemade baked goods or even pleasantries.  They showed up with a "what was that noise?!"

Flash back about 30 seconds and I'm inside the house chatting with the bloke's friends.  I hear the truck rumbling up.  Then a loud BOOM.  At that moment, about three of us - in unison - said "tree."

Okay, rewind back those 30 seconds again.  The bloke is in the cab of the truck.  His friend, riding shotgun is saying, "Oh, wow, is that the house?  Oh it's nice.  Oh wow, look at how big those trees are in your yard."  BOOM.

Yep, the bloke did not clear the tree.

 The view from the inside.  Let the sunshine in.

 Doh!  Some of the tree made it inside the truck.

The wounded tree.

All of the guys are laughing away, while the bloke assures us, "It's okay.  I bought the insurance."  I thought to myself, "Wow, I've never bought the insurance.  I always thought it was silly.  I guess it does come in handy."

Then, upon returning the truck, we discover this:

"CUSTOMER is responsible for ALL overhead damage."  Dang it.  I wonder if there's every been anyone else who has made a homeowner's insurance claim within the first 30 seconds of arriving at the house on move in day.

Like I said before, and as all of the neighbors heard, we know how to make an entrance.

Love,

the bird (and the bloke)

P.S.  Here's a little sneak peek at one of the projects we've been working on.