Back when I took you all on a little video tour of the Liberty House, I might have made a smart ass comment about the size of the mudroom and how I might “need a little creativity to figure out how to use all the space up.”
Turns out, no… I did not need any creativity at all. I just needed a garage that happens to be missing a door making it an unfit storage spot for all my tools, and then what happens is this…
Yeah. Also there might be a Christmas tree in the mix there.
While it’s been exciting to essentially run an 11 foot obstacle course just to get a screwdriver out of my toolbox a dozen times every day for the last three months, I finally got to the point where I was going to start re-buying tools because I could no longer get to the ones I already owned. I find that to be a perfectly acceptable thing to do with, say, socks, if you happen to be a month behind on your laundry (ahem), but in this house the tool-fund is sacred.
Which means that Sunday morning was dedicated to finally turning this disaster area into something a little more functional, and a little less likely to require me to use a pair of needle nose pliers to extract a chunk of glass out of my foot when all I wanted was a damn paintbrush.
Turns out I am highly motivated by glass shards… (Also, this picture probably makes the case for not staining a deck barefoot.)
One of the three great ironies in my life at the moment is that I own more square-footage in barns than I do in living space, and yet this is where my saws live…
Also high on the irony list? Here’s what you see when you first walk in the door to the house.
Am I or am I not the girl who used to spend her time hand-carving fun wooden broom handles specifically so that ugly plastic brooms would never need to be left out in plain sight?
Ugly broom aside, the mudroom– which did contain almost as much mud and sawdust as tools– is a pleasure to walk into now. I mean, I haven’t banged my shin on a wayward wood clamp even once in the last 48 hours. It’s also got me thinking that having a little workbench as a permanent part of this entryway might not be such a bad idea. Or a 300 piece vintage tool chest, perhaps?
Source: anthologymag.com via Kit on
Drooling aside, the problem with a house that has a lot of square footage but almost no storage space is that it seems like I managed to organize some things, but truthfully the messes just migrate to another area of the property. So the mudroom looks better, but now the garage?
Huh. Add it to the list.
And, for a little bonus irony before I wrap this one up…
Someone please tell me how I always drop the paint roller on the one part of my body not covered by clothes.
This, my friends, is the DIY life.
You, madam, have talent. Glass, paint, saw storage.. the whole shebang.
I wish you were still selling those awesome brooms!
Oh gosh – doesn’t it figure? Our great struggle is to figure out where to put our shoes!!! Some moron put light oatmeal covered carpet in this house and with two kids under the age of 5, yeah, not a good idea. So the shoes are removed at the door and there they stay – out in the open – ready to collect a scorpion or two. Not sexy. Not even a little bit.
at the risk of sounding like your mother, or someone’s mother: I really wish you would wear shoes.
I’m having trouble seeing the irony in a DIY Diva having an entry that includes meaningful decor items that speak to who she is in her heart of hearts. It totally lets anyone who enters know exactly what you value about your lifestyle. About the only thing you might consider replacing it with would be one of those great bench/clothes hooks/cubby type cabinets (do they have a name?)for when all that white stuff starts to swirl. (BTW the master bath install is coming along nicely, though all I’ve done so far is make design decisions, haul stuff home from the big orange box store, and watch your tiling tutorial. It won’t see the finish line this vacation but will inspire next year’s trip home!).
Hey, my Sunday was a disaster, too, so much so that I needed two posts to get it off my chest. My painting pants are also weak in the knees and the knees get painted more often than other parts. I think it means you’re really good at painting. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Jo @ Let’s Face the Music
And more Hunter Green walls! Lovely! And I will defend your right to go barefoot – I am always doing something I shouldn’t be doing without my shoes on!
It’s my fault. I love being barefoot, too!
I find having a set of basic tools in each room in the house to be a good thing. You just never know when you might need an adjustable wrench while taking a shower.
What I want to know is how I can get paint on me when I’m NOT EVEN PAINTING!!! Or how it gets *under* my clothes; I have no painting clothes with holes in them, yet always seem to find paint on my calf or thigh a week later. Ok, that makes it sound like I don’t shower, but seriously even the loofa doesn’t get that stuff off…especially when it’s just a cursory swipe…
And I have to say, I feel a little creepy going through and commenting on all of these posts so long after the fact, but 12-hour shifts with little else to do but browse the internet make for some couple of weeks of DIYDiva catch-up. Thanks for all the entertainment. 🙂
Hey there! I just would like to give you a
huge thumbs up for the excellent info you have got right here on this post.
I am returning to your website for more soon.
Comments are closed.