The conclusion of painting extends to the interior of the house as well as the exterior. Over the weekend we painted over the seafoam blue in the front bathroom with some pleasing neutral tones, sanding away the cracked and peeling stuff that’s been there since we moved in. There’s also a new light fixture that matches the ones in the kitchen, and a medicine cabinet that matches the ones in the back bathroom. Enjoy the new look!
Take a close look. You might not see it right away, but it’s there. Oh, it’s there.
What am I babbling about, you ask? Well, maybe it’s the sweet sweet sight of a glass door finishing off the new shower. It’s now officially the first part of the addition that’s actually done. We’ve washed the puppy with the movable shower head, we’ve watched the water go down the Schlugehwhatever-style drain, we’ve moved our fingers across the subway tile installed by the Frenchman.
The shower is done, my friends. And that is cause for celebration. But how to celebrate? Perhaps the installation of the sinks in the bathroom tomorrow?
I like the sound of that.
The workers did a little archaeological dig on the house today. Granted, it was at the expense of the loss of our original door frames (and Megan’s hard work in stripping 85 years of paint from them!), but we did find some cool stuff buried behind the walls.
The above photo may look like a pile of faded news pulp, but it’s actually a peek into the window of 1932. The photos of various people are collectible trading cards of Golden Era Hollywood actors and actresses. Some of the names are recognizable – Buster Keaton, Bela Lugosi, Maureen O’Sullivan – while others are just like that vast sea of unnameable baseball players you’d get in a pack of Topps cards. What’s neat is that they’re all date stamped from various days in 1932, and they all have fortune cookie-like missives on the back. Jack Oakie at Paramount Pictures, for example, insists that “although inclined to be light-hearted, you are deeply serious about the important things in life.” Tré zen!
Thanks to Megan’s diligent research, we now know the cards were sold with cigarettes or at a weight machine in J.J. Newberry stores. (The purchaser vacillates between 131 and 140 pounds.) Their fate until we rescued them was to serve as mere shims for our way off-kilter door frames. Simply horrible. Their liberation will serve as a reminder not only to our home’s interesting past, but to freedom!
There’s also some cardboard milk bottle tops reminding us to wash all bottle before return and a booklet for girl’s clothing store Jordan’s on Colorado Boulevard in the picture. If we get a chance, we’ll type up the fascinating serialized adventures wedged between ads for dolls and toddler’s dresses in the brochure.