Kitchen planning frustration — I’ll be William Wallace. Paul can be the Irish guy.

Paul and I spent Saturday discussing the kitchen… Or rather, we began a conversation about the kitchen which morphed into generalized irritation, which seamlessly merged into every fight we have ever had about anything house-related. The kind of irritation that makes you want to lay down on the floor in surrender and say– I give(…)

Nine years of wedded bliss… AND a video.

Paul and I are on vacation this week… We’re celebrating nine years of being married. Nine years of being amazed at how lucky I got. Nine years of wondering if he listens to a word I say. Nine years of Paul failing to appreciate my talent for micromanagement. Nine years of me having 1,237,894% more(…)

DIY house renovation— a death-defying stunt for your marriage.

Two posts ago, I went back to the beginning of our house renovation—how my husband and I decided to buy an old house and fix it up… a decision based around the front-door’s antique hardware.  And an imaginary before-and-after picture that lived in my head—a picture designed by a DIY-enthusiasm that came from not ever(…)

How we got here… Part Two: I reconsider my ideas about house renovation.

The day after moving is usually a time of reorganizing.  Of shuffling boxes around.  Of moving one pile to another…  A time of trying to find basic necessities like towels and the coffee pot. But instead?  The day after we moved in, Paul woke up at six in the morning.  He built three-stories worth of(…)