Doors and Chairs and Things–Being a Renaissance Painter

Today was a big day in the world of house projects.  I finished painting our front door and the two freebie dining room chairs that we scavenged from a neighbor’s trash a few weeks/months ago.  I also did not one or two, but four loads of laundry.  Woohoo!

I happen to think that the chairs look a lot better, although stained wood versus painted wood is something that people tend to disagree about.  Here was the before:

This is the after:

Our dining room already has stained wood in the form of floors, table, and side table, so the painted chairs seem like a good fit.  Personally, I think the blue also gives the chairs a bit of special flair.  They’re a relatively standard chair design, and they needed a bit of flair.

As for the front door, I’ll admit that I kind of liked it in chipped, lots of layers form.  There was some kind of green under the original red, and some spots allowed the green and the natural wood color to show through.  It was pretty.  See:

But as of today, the chips and raw edges are all covered with a nice, fresh coat of red paint–same color, new day.

And last but not least, I got to add a few new items to my Etsy shop.  There are otter notecards (that’s right) and a watercolor of a row-boat in Italy.  I like them.

So that was today.  Now all I have to do is clean the entire house before Scott’s mom gets into town tomorrow afternoon.  She’s never said a single word about our house needing a good vacuuming or anything like that.  She’s a great mother-in-law.  But I know my parents’ house is a good three or four degrees cleaner than ours is at any given moment.  I don’t want Scott’s mom to be concerned that her son is going to die by violent roach attack or dust bunny smothering or something.

There we are.  The thrilling life of Housewife Hannah in 339-ish words.


Back in the Saddle Again

I’m kind of excited.  My mom recently inherited a family farmhouse in North Carolina and the random contents of that house.  One of those objects is an enormous photo of me on the beach around age 4.  I was all smiles and cuteness then, but who wants a giant picture of themselves hanging on anyone’s wall?  It might be weird to greet house guests with a larger than life image of me in a purple swimsuit.  That’s not why I’m excited.

I’m excited because my mom wants to replace that photo with one of my watercolors (yet to be painted, since I usually don’t paint anything on the right scale for that frame).  She’s my mom, so she’s required to like my paintings even if no one else does, but that doesn’t make the project any less fun.

Painting is one of those things that I forget to do unless I have a very specific goal in mind.  For a while, that goal was assignment-related.  Then it became a matter of filling empty wall space cheaply.  Since both of those reasons are gone now, I’ve basically stopped doing anything watercolor-related.  Thank goodness for parents who encourage silly dreams.

At this point, I’m thinking about painting the house and/or some of the red tobacco barns behind the house.  Plenty of good material there.  Don’t expect anything like this:

That’s not really how I roll.  Winslow Homer might have an edge over me in the skill department.  Just a little edge.

If anything good comes from this experiment, I’ll update accordingly.  If I end up with something that looks more like ink blotches than Homer’s painting above, I’ll keep it to myself.  Or I could put the blotches on the blog and see what you guys think they mean about me on a deep, psychological level.  We’ll see.