Home Sweet Construction Zone

I lovingly refer to our house as the 'construction zone'. I've gotten quite accustomed to weaving through boxes on my way to make coffee, and keeping all of the doors closed, so the cats don't accidentally rub against a saw, or step on a razor blade, or swallow a screw, etc. However, I have to say that I am excited for the day that I can have guests over without having to give the 'our-house-is-a-construction-zone-please-don't-judge-us' disclaimer. It gets old, and even I am getting sick of hearing myself say it.

And no, I did not stage the above shot. I was photographing the formal living room this weekend, and almost leaned back on this death trap. Jeff claims that he was testing the nail gun on this scrap piece of wood, but I'm hard pressed to believe that it took him ten tries to figure out that it was working properly.

Anyhow, the whole living-and-working-in-the-house-you're-remodeling thing is not as glamorous as HGTV led me to believe.

Literally, every corner of the house is being occupied. Be it a rug, a curtain rod, or a power tool -- there is something resting in every available nook in this house. It is nerve racking as I constantly feel that any one of the numerous piles-of-stuff that we have stacked to the ceiling could come crashing down with one false move.

Anyhow, in less dangerous news, something else I've noticed about living in a construction zone: I can't live without my iPad. It is, hands down, the most brilliant product I've ever owned (besides the mothership, of course) -- and I don't know how people survived this whole remodeling process without being able to carry a beautiful baby TV with them from room to room.

Let's not even talk about the carport. I dream of the day that our cars will have shelter from the rain.

And yes, I'm pretty sure our neighbors can't wait for that day either. 

The thing about remodeling a house that you just moved into is that everyone wants to "come see the new place", or "come see what you've done so far" -- and let me just tell you, it ain't pretty. Half of our house is covered in construction-grade paper, the other half is holding the furniture and stuff that will eventually go on top of the floors that are currently cover in construction-grade paper. It's a mess, people; and it loses it's charm after about 10 minutes when you realize there is no where to sit down -- because, apparently, every chair we own is also occupied.

I don't want this to discourage any visits as I have gotten really good at "giving the tour" when people come over -- not to mention, I started a blog to document the remodeling process, so I obviously don't have any secrets. However, if you want to come visit, you must (1) bring alcohol and/or your working gloves, or (2) take us out to eat ... which we've discovered is our parent's trick -- and. it. works. every. time.

Here's to our home, sweet, home construction zone. Happy Thursday!

Ryan