I’ve heard it said that it doesn’t cost anything to dream. Technically, that’s probably correct. But in this house, it seems like that doesn’t always hold true.
Dreaming usually leads to ideas, which often leads to action, meaning trips to the store for paint. Spackle. Insulation. Cleaning supplies. And lots of work for Paul, I’m afraid.
We have 3 bedrooms upstairs. One is a big, ‘bonus-style’ room over the garage. It has great light (when the fluorescents are turned off), dark hardwood floors, a big closet, and horrendous insulation. The boys used to sleep in there, until I was scared that in the summer they would cook from the heat, or that in winter they would freeze. It was that bad, and the room was draining heating oil like water. So we moved them to a different little 10×10 bedroom, squeezed in their beds and bureaus, and shut the door to their old room, which is only entered through by a short little doorway from their current bedroom. (I love that part.) We turned down the heat, and used the big room just for storage for the last couple years. Oil was no longer being drained at tremendous rates, and the problem was solved. For the time-being.
You know what, though? It’s a little frustrating to have a big room that’s not being used. Especially when the boys don’t play in their room now, since there’s only just enough space to squeeze past each others’ beds to go to sleep at night. Plus, turning that little 10×10 room into a studio would be handy for a certain Etsy shop owner. And thus, this is the place where dreaming turns to action, where we begin to utilize all the square footage in our home.
The color scheme ideas for the boys’ room all began with this little guy, an antique tin toy WWII- era airplane:
This little design board is sorta’ where we’re hoping it will go:
I’m glad that we have some good pieces to work with already. Like an antique trunk from Paul’s grandpa that just needs a coat of paint, a couple mismatched end tables that have some potential if they, too, get a coat of paint. Their current bedspreads will work great, and I’m trying to decide if we should paint their beds or leave them. I’m leaning toward white paint. Shocking.
But this is where we (well, mostly Paul) have been:
When Paul gutted the east wall, we found out why the room was so cold. Three words: cardboard box insulation. Mm-hmm. That’s all. One little layer of cardboard. Nothing else. Welcome to owning a Cape built in 1943.
It is getting better. Really.
I sure hope, anyway.
I have a feeling we’ll let you know.
(And we may find ourselves working on painting the kitchen, the studio, and the hallway. Isn’t that how it goes…?)
At this point, my youngest sister is probably breathing a sigh of relief. She probably assumes she got through her birthday without me mentioning it here.
Happy Birthday, Kara Jill.
I like you.
Know what else? If the youngest one of the 5 of us is 27 years old, I think that means the Ryan girls are kinda’ growing up.
Mom, thanks for being the beginning of our stellar fashion sense. :) Way to go on the top-siders with white tights!
(Readers: Bonus points if you can name who’s who right to left. Hint: You may see traces of our children in some of these personalities. Oh, boy…) And yes, this is a photo of 5 girls. Ignore the hair. Or lack thereof.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEE REE!