Making Progress

It's been crazy around here at the Williams household and I'll be honest, I'm having major writers block as I sit down to write my first post in what feels like months (ironically, we're watching Charlie Kaufman's Adaptation, a humorous film about ... writer's block). You see, my entire existence this past week has been consumed with painting.

Edging.

Rolling.

Touch up.

Repeat.

We had every intention of taking our time to make our house our own, but last week we got a fun surprise from the HUD inspector: our place isn't considered "move-in ready" until every room has a fresh coat of paint on it. And the bank won't release the rest of the funds to our contractor (to pay him and his guys) until painting is complete.

My hands are raw and chapped. Josh and I have been changing into the same painting clothes every day for the past week (next item on to-do list: laundry). Our entire place smells like Sherwin Williams. But it's all finally coming together, and we cannot WAIT to show you some final "Before and After" photos. For now, here's a quick peek at what we've been up to.

 

Bunk Mates

Like many siblings, Brooke and I spent our formative childhood years sharing a room. In such a small space, the only logical sleeping arrangement was to set us up in bunk beds. Being the eldest*, I assumed that I would be given the privilege of the coveted top bunk. (*Even with multiples, there is always an oldest and youngest. A mere two minutes separated my sister and me, and by golly, I used those 120 seconds of additional life experience as a rationale for every argument we had growing up).

My parents, however, believed I could keep a better eye on my baby sister sleeping on the bottom bunk. Oh I kept an eye on her alright; I watched her roll off the bed and onto the floor at least once a week (usually without waking up). The first time it happened, I was sure our positions would be switched as I was a non-moving sleeper. Nope. Instead, they simply scooped her up, placed her back under the covers and went back to bed. This routine went on for over two years. Two years, people!

As anyone can attest, sharing tight quarters heightens all sensitivities and lowers tolerance at an exponential rate. The mere sound of the other person breathing causes your blood pressure to spike to unnaturally high levels. As such, normally petty disagreements morphed into full-scale warfare with innocent toys losing life and limb.

When fighting, the top bunk provided several advantages, the most obvious being the higher ground. Perched five feet from the floor, Brooke could quash any of my attempts to ascend the fortress of our beds.

The bottom bunk did have one unique benefit: an exposed mattress directly above me. As exercise, I would routinely kick the living crap out of the mattress (and her) as she lay there with no protection. After nine years of sharing a bedroom, my parents finally separated us after walking in on Brooke violently slamming my face with a pillow and me kicking the bed above me with enough force to get my loving sister airborne.

Twenty years later, I never thought I would be sleeping on my childhood mattress. And I certainly did not expect to be back in bunk beds, let alone with my husband.

That's right: this past weekend we finally moved into our new home!! After months of paperwork, renovations and inspections, Josh and I can officially call ourselves residents of Westwood Hills Road. In fact, I'm sitting on our new couch, staring out the window at a rafter of turkeys across the street as I write this.

But back to the matter at hand.

Being that I am a terrible sleeping partner (more on that later), Josh made the executive decision that a king bed was necessary to ensure our marriage survived. Problem is, with everything that has been going on, we just haven't had time to buy one. Which is why we are sleeping here for the time being:

Yes ladies and gentlemen, it only took thirty years but I can now claim residence to the coveted top bunk. I don't know about you, but I think that's a pretty awesome way to start off 2013.

Cheers and wishing you all the best in the year ahead!

Why We Love our House: The View

Two months after fixing myriad plumbing, electrical, drywall, foundation, insulation, garage and yard issues, we're finally ready to start making this house our home. We are officially moving in this Saturday!

Ashley and I wanted to quick say "Happy Holidays" to all our fabulous readers and share one last blog post prior to what should be an eventful week of furiously prepping and cleaning our mess of a house before Saturday ...

When we first put down an offer on our home, I received a humorous email from an old high school friend. She, too, had looked at the house on Westwood several months prior and had loved it. She and her husband had even contacted a contractor to bid out the project, but decided to move-on from the house at the last second after finding another home that needed immediate action to purchase. Nevertheless, my high school friend still thought highly of the home and mentioned that she had absolutely loved the view.

Despite visiting the house multiple times, I had no idea what she was talking about. I suppose we had a pretty forest on one side of the house and around lunch time each day, one might amusingly watch a gang of fifteen or so wild turkeys saunter about our yard ... but I wouldn't necessarily categorize those as views to write home about. Unless, of course, the turkeys started to fight our scurry of squirrels ala West Side Story.

So I quizzically said to her, "What view?" She replied," Didn't you see? Go look out your master bedroom window." So I did and was completely floored. There in front of me, right above where our future bed will be, is a bird's eye view of the Minneapolis skyline. Seeing that view for the first time, was like seeing all the presents under the Christmas tree for the first time. It's not too often you get to feel the innocence and awe of a kid in a candy store, but at that moment, I certainly did.

This house has many neat eccentricities and quirks, but the view just might be my favorite. We wish you a joyful holiday season and God Bless!

"There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child." - Erma Bombeck

Bookmas Eve

Heads Up: This is not an actual house related post but, it’s pretty important (to me) which is why I’m sharing this with you.

Note to all potential parents: if your kid is born 10 days before or after Christmas, make up a different birthday (preferably a day in the summer).

Those of you with birthdays between December 15 and January 4 know EXACTLY what I’m talking about, in fact, I guarantee you are smiling right now because you already know the thing I’m about to bring up.

The dreaded “Merry Christmas/ Happy Birthday” present.

Yes, these items actually exist.

As a kid, these gifts are pretty easy to spot by knowing the three types of combination presents to watch for:

• When at a specifically Christmas family function, you see a present wrapped in birthday balloon paper. Total combo gift. 
• A few days before or after your day of birth (depending on when Christmas is in relation to your birthday) you receive a gift in the mail covered in Santa Clause wrapping paper. The timing is key as the gift acts as a belated/early birthday gift and Christmas present (which is ALWAYS pointed out in the card). 
• And a gift wrapped in both birthday and Christmas wrapping (even a novice can pick this out of a lineup- major props to those that could pull this off).

Packages hidden beneath sheets of wintery images are tricky (think snowmen, holly & berries, poinsettias) as they could contain either. However, the dead giveaway is usually the size of the tag on front and if there is enough room to write a combo greeting or not.

But I can one-up all of you. My whole life, I was unlucky enough to receive the absolute WORST gift to a kid under the age of 16 (because after 16, people stop sending you stuff all together):

The “Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday Brooke & Ashley” present. 

Super cute vintage photo (I'm the one in the blue)

SIDE NOTE: My sister, Brooke, had the opportunity to meet one of our favorite authors, Sarah Vowell (essayist, voice of Violet in “The Incredibles”) a few years ago, who is also a twin with a holiday birthday. The two immediately connected over this exact topic. As a result, Ms. Vowell inscribed the following message on the inside cover of Brooke's copy of  The Partly Cloudy Patriot:

Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday Brooke & Ashley

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-Sarah Vowell

As if I didn’t already have an identity complex having a clone growing up, now I couldn’t even have one day to call my own.

So why am I relaying all this information to you? Because it explains the new holiday I now celebrate (thanks to my husband): The 12 Days of Bookmas.

The first year we celebrated Christmas as a married couple, Josh felt that everyone should be excited about their birthday, even if it did fall close to the holidays. So he brainstormed a way to celebrate Christmas AND my birthday in a totally unique way.

Thus “The Twelve Days of Bookmas” was born.

This new and sadly not formally recognized holiday combines two of my favorite things (books and the holidays) with something I normally disregard (my birthday) to make the final product an EPIC EVENT!

So tomorrow, on December 22, Bookmas begins. Each day, for the next 12 days I receive a book-related gift. While I always receive a nice assortment of reading material, past gifts also include small book-related things like bookmarks or a bag of peanut M&M's (my fave) to consume while reading.

I am literally bouncing at my computer as I type these words, unable to control my excitement this Bookmas Eve. It sure makes approaching 30 (which Brooke and I will turn on January 2) more fun.

If I woke up to this on Bookmas morning, I would probably faint from happiness.

Snowstorms, Bad Ideas and a Sneak Peek

The past weekend, we got hit with our first official snowstorm of the season. And while Josh and I were excited to see how beautiful the house would look with a few inches of fluffy white stuff, we definitely were not prepared for the whopping 16 inches that fell in Saint Louis Park.

So on Sunday, while most people had made soup, curled up in front of the television and sworn off driving for the day, Josh had the brilliant idea to move some of our stuff into the new house.

This was a very, very bad idea.

First, it took us 20 minutes to get our cars free from all the snow in the parking lot. And then we realized Josh's boots were (where else) already packed and sitting in the basement of our new house. Determined to show Mother Nature her pesky flakes could not weaken our resolve, we packed both our cars and headed over to the new place.

For those of you unfamiliar with our home, it sits atop a hill - giving us a phenomenal view of downtown Minneapolis (especially at night). Like Shel Silverstein's Giving Tree, this beautiful hill also gave us a valuable insight: the tires on Josh's car suck. And as hard as those tires tried, they couldn't get him up the hill and to the driveway.

I managed to get my trusty Honda close enough to the driveway so I could trudge through our snowy driveway and get Josh his snow gear. Josh, unfortunately, had to go park his car at the gas station (that is at least four blocks away) and WALK back up the hill and up to the house.

As soon as we got into our garage, we received another surprise: the snow shovel was missing (yes, the one we used to remove our raccoon earlier) and the newly tuned-up snowblower had no gasoline. Awesome.

So we "cleared" a tiny path up the driveway to the house with push brooms, determined to move our crap into the basement. As we sat there, knee deep in snow and with no gloves (because we're both winners and forgot them) Josh looks at me and says "So on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you hate me right now?"

I kept on sweeping and calmly replied "oh, about a 14, give or take." We laughed. We couldn't stop laughing because, that's all you can do when you're in the middle of a really bad idea.

But here is the good news: we have some exciting sneak peeks for everyone below!

Not Our First Rodeo

When we decided to put an offer down on our house, one of the first questions our realtor asked us was "have you two ever attempted a remodeling project as a couple before?"  For couples that have not experienced this, you may be curious as to the relevance of this question. But if you've even so much as painted a room with your partner, the legitimacy of this inquiry could not be more important. It doesn't matter how much you plan or how many times you watched that YouTube video showing how easy it is, something always goes wrong. And sometimes, the unthinkable happens.

Dear readers, do you remember our nightmare of having our contractor resign after we had put an offer on our house? Would you believe this wasn't the worst thing that has happened to us in the middle of a project? Prepare to be amazed my friends, as we reminisce about our first home remodeling fiasco.

In the summer of 2011, we decided that our condo needed some major upgrades, especially the kitchen. Low and behold, our culinary space pre-renovation.

 

Our original plan was to simply replace the crappy laminate counter-top and paint the walls. This was a rookie mistake. Because walking into a kitchen or bathroom or any other room besides a closet with a plan renovate ONE thing falls victim to the inevitable snowball effect. Once we decided to replace the counters, we realized the existing cabinets would look even worse next to some brand new granite so those had to be replaced. And then you look at the new nice cabinets, granite counter tops and reluctantly agree that the appliances from 1979 just have to go too.

We thought we had some luck on our side, however, and could use our friend Chuck as our contractor. Not only does he do fantastic work, but he agreed to give us the "friend and family discount." So, we ordered new cabinets to be installed by Chuck and his son that Monday. 

And over the weekend, Chuck got hit by a truck. 

On his motorcycle. 

Not. 

Kidding. 

(Before you all freak out, Chuck lived and made a complete recovery, minus some scars and swearing off motorcycles for life).  

But that left us with an empty kitchen. And cabinets filling up our living room for two weeks. 

We managed to find another contractor on short notice, but that meant doing the demolition and minor stuff ourselves. And this is where it gets even more fun.

For starters, the week we decided to start our project was one of the hottest weeks here in Minneapolis on record. In fact, it hit 100 degrees twice between Monday and Thursday. If you recall your world news from 2011, Japan was still reeling from a devastating tsunami in March which, in turn, caused a shortage of wall-mounted air-conditioning units across the United States. And the week prior to our renovation, both of our units decided to die.

Boys and girls, this is what you resort to when it's 100 degrees in your second floor unit: you prop up a fan and attempt to steal the slightly cooler air in the shared hallway (spoiler: it doesn't work). On the third day when temperatures surpassed 100, I called Josh at work and told him I would be staying at the Homewood Suites in the West End for the night and he was welcome to join me as I had absolutely no intention of sleeping in our crowded, sweltering condo another night.

The day before the crew was to arrive to install the new cabinets, we needed to rip out the old ones and completely turn off the water source. What was supposed to be a simple three-step process took three hours and six trips to Home Depot.

See that gross bucket? It is catching the slow but persistent leak that took us HOURS to locate and stop. We learned a valuable lesson that evening: buy one of everything in the "plumbing" aisle and return the stuff you don't use. It doesn't matter how many times you measure or read the existing parts, you will always end up with the wrong stuff.

Over the next few days, we installed the cabinets, the new granite tiles for the counter and the fancy schmancy backsplash. Josh even learned how to grout (on YouTube of course) and that was the ONE thing that actually went right the first time. And here is the end result:

 

So, when Shelly asked us if this house was our first project as a married couple, we smiled and politely replied "let's just say, this isn't our first rodeo." 

A Terrible Secret

I'm about to reveal a secret only two people on this planet can attest to (my husband and my sister):

I am the world's WORST bathroom sharer.

When it comes to bathroom transgressions, I am a repeat offender with little chance of rehabilitation. Offenses include:

• I take ridiculously long showers and bubble baths. We're talking a minimum of 30 minutes. 
• I never cap the toothpaste. Never. And it leaks all over the drawer or counter. 
• I don't close caps on mouthwash, nail polish remover, etc, so that if touched, all contents spill. 
• I shed. A lot. My hair is everywhere. And I make no apologies for this. 
• I leave everything on the counter so I can easily find it. Why put it away if I know I'm going to use it again tomorrow?

And then there is the Moby Dick of all bathroom sharing sins: if I can't find my toothbrush (or am simply too lazy to look for mine amidst my items scattered across the counter) I will use the first one I find.

(Cue: gagging sounds and groans of complete disgust).

I tell you this, dear reader, so you will understand that when Josh and I first looked at this house, his immediate concern was the singular bathroom. I mean, if your toothbrush was in a constant state of jeopardy, you would be preoccupied with this fact as well.

Our realtor assured us that a solution was upstairs: a roughed in master bathroom.

Let me start by saying, even our contractor wasn't quite sure what the "plan" was supposed to be for this space. From the doorway, you can see the weirdly constructed shower (complete with illegal electrical wiring).

 

Instead of taking advantage of the sloped walls in the back, drywall was being erected to create a flat surface and wasting square feet in an already small space. 

 The plumbing was routed so that the toilet appeared to be positioned in the middle of room.

So we (and by "we," I mean our contractor and his team) went to work ripping out the existing plans and redesigning a more functional space.

 

Now when you walk into the bathroom, the first thing you'll see is the soaking tub (yes, you will have to use your imagination to see our vision as it's pretty rough right now). 

To the left of the soaking tub will be the new walk in shower (with cut out shelves because I have two different shampoos and two different conditioners alone).

The center of the space will be for the vanity (with EXTRA counter space) and a toilet in the back left corner. Again, use your imagination people.

We spent some time over the past weekend picking out tile for the space. If we can pull it off, I CANNOT WAIT to share photos of the completed "after" photos!!