So what is this v-groove plank panelling you speak of?

A long, long, time ago, when my brain cells were still firing and I was unaware of the fact that I could humanly lift a 237 lb. washing machine with my partner in crime, I had a mad idea that wherever you entered this house, there should be panelled walls. I think it came to me late at night, when you're laying in bed and these sort of ideas sound (and look) so great in your mind.

Not to make it sound like I'm doing this all on my own here...Trevor is master carpenter/plumber/tiler/minor electrician extraordinaire. I just seem to come up with all of the labour-intensive ideas -- like plank panelling.

To put the planks up, you have to have your ducks in a row (no, not the ones outside splashing about in the pond -- although I do have thoughts on how I can attach little harnesses to them and have them walk planks into the house). You need to think ahead with things like, do my ceiling joists run the right direction? 'Cause if they don't, you have to put supports in between each and every joist. Is there plumbing/venting/electrical behind this that I might puncture with my air nailer? If the answer is yes, you need to avoid those land mines. How are you going to cut the holes for light fixtures/switches/plugs? Get yourself to the hardware store (or the internets) and buy yourself a Fein, it will become your best friend. (Ask Trevor, he sleeps with his.) And beyond all of those, possibly the most important question -- where in the heck are you going to store all of these 16 ft. long planks? My answer: buy yourself a fugly shipping container (or three).

Once you have all of your bases covered, mentally prepare yourself for endless nailing, cutting and carrying of these planks. And then grab yourself a few gallons of Benjamin Moore's Oxford White paint, and trim the v-groove joints first, then roll until you can't roll anymore.

Then, and only then, stand back and admire all of the amazing plank-y-ness you've got going on.

Oh, and for anyone who goes out and buys the pine planks that aren't pre-primed -- don't ever invite me over to help you paint.

Now with less scaffolding

I became possessed at the beginning of this week. The scaffolding was still in place, and my time reenacting monkey moves was over, I was done with this yellow THING that was always in the way. (And let me tell you, if you've really got to go to the bathroom, you can dodge, swivel, pivot and wrench your way up that thing faster than you think.)

Monday was relatively quiet (working from home has some perks), and with Trevor out of the way for 9 hours I was free to bust a move with the paint roller.

And paint I did.

Trimming the little v-grooves? Check. De-fuzzing the roller for the 1000th time and slapping oxford white all over this joint? Check. Only waiting 90 minutes between coats? Check. (What can I say? When the painting moment strikes, one must take hold of it and go go go!)

By the time Trevor was home from work, the yellow beast was taken apart and civilized stair life returned.

Welcome to my week

On deck for this week is a push to get the planks on the walls and ceiling of the entryway and up the stairs. Oh, and we're painting them as well -- neither of us wants to reassemble the scaffolding for a second time.

The big pain with this plan is that the bathroom (the only working one in the house right now) is right up at the top, and you have to get in touch with your Cirque de Soleil side to shimmy and twist your way through the scaffolding to make it up.

Big before and after: The entryway

Light, bright, just right!

Ah yes, I'm going through memory lane looking at all our before photos at the moment.  This installment is dedicated to our entryway.  Just a short while ago it was burgundy, thanks to Trevor's hands and ideas.  And then I came along and changed it.  Sure, we lived with the burgundy for a while, but it was really oppressive and, well...burgundy.  A coat of primer and two coats of paint later (and moulding, and flooring...) and it's a brighter, lighter entryway.

Bur-gun-dy.  'Nuff said.

Entryway vignette

Just a little preview of what I've photographed over the past few days (there will be more to come -- promise!).  The pale yellow gerberas make it all work and that tall silver thing is a kaleidoscope, just in case you're wondering!

French Eclectic and Rustic Revival in the entryway

I think that if you took vintage yardsticks and rulers (instead of the reclaimed wood) and created something similar to the above picture it would be faaaaa-bulous.

The entryway: Before and after

The entryway was finished this weekend.  Despite my inital ho-humming about the slate tile (it seems a bit overused in houses right now -- but I'm sure the future buyer of this house will be over the moon about it) I think it turned out beautifully.  Two coats of gloss sealer (bling!), the addition of moulding (notice the plinth block action, courtesy of Trevor's mad finishing skillz), painting of moulding (my mad skillz), painting of closet doors and one revamped table later and we're done*.  

* Although I think the glass bottle needs a flower or two.