Swinging from the chandelier

Not me, of course.  But some dangly, pretty, glass gewgaws to daintily swing and sway and cast rainbows on the walls with every twirl and move.

Yes, I'm speaking of a crystal-bedecked chandelier.

Before you yawn, I haven't mentioned the location of this new light fixture.  It's not in the usual  dining room or foyer.  It's the master bathroom.

I've been intrigued by the fantasy of a bathroom chandelier since the mid-90s when a forward-thinking friend mentioned her interior decorator suggested one for her powder room. That was almost two decades ago - she (and her decorator) were way ahead of their time.  And for those of you who are thinking that electricity and water don't mix, you're right. I already checked it out:

National Electric Code 410.4(D) Bathtub and Shower Areas. No parts of cord-connected luminaires (fixtures), hanging luminaires (fixtures), lighting track, pendants, or ceiling-suspended (paddle) fans shall be located within a zone measured 900 mm (3 ft) horizontally and 2.5 m (8 ft) vertically from the top of the bathtub rim or shower stall threshold. This zone is all encompassing and includes the zone directly over the tub or shower stall.

Fortunately, the perfect spot in our new bathroom is already wired in a spot outside said range.  I can hang it just as soon as I take down the ceiling fan that's there now.  (Which seems a tad more dangerous than a chandelier, if you ask me.  I think stories of flying fans and crashing chandeliers are mostly urban legends, concocted by ultra-cautious engineers and lawsuit-phobic lawyers. Seriously - has it ever happened to you or anyone you personally know?  Me neither.  Anyhoo.)

Oooh!  Did I mention the price? That's truly the best part!

My inspiration for this project was this Pottery Barn chandelier.  (Sidenote: they have the coolest, most copy-able stuff.  I'm so glad we don't have a PB store in town, because that might prove too much temptation for me. As it is, I only let myself venture into their stores only for inspiration.)

As much as I drooled over this photo, I knew there was no way I was spending $300 on a light, especially a (trendy) bathroom light.  Not when there were curtains and paint and other needs and wants to fulfill as we settle into our new digs.

They call it "Bellora" which I'm pretty sure is Italian for "beautiful and expensive"

I scoured our local Craigslist regularly, hoping someone might be ready to discard their PB or PB-esque chandelier, and I could snag their cast-off for half-price or so.  Instead, I found an ad for a chandelier, at the unbelievable price of $25. And the amber glass covers perfectly match the existing vanity lights.  But it was too tall.  Back on Craigslist it goes.

However, thanks to eBay, I snagged my knockoff for $150 including shipping - back in June.  It has hung out in my closet for six months; thanks to my awesome dad and middle son playing electrician over the Christmas holiday, winter bubble baths under the soft glow of a chandelier, here I come!

Of course, now that the chandelier is hung, I'm scheming 2012 projects, starting with revving up the decorating in the bathroom. First step is painting the walls. Then I hope to install some trim around the two vanity mirrors and trick out the tub alcove with some shelving and some window treatment.  It is more than a little bland, as you can see from the picture above.  I may - or may not - get our closets re-done this year (the wire racks are functional, but they don't really inspire good organization or a desire to tackle the day when we open our closet doors each morning.)  But for today - just for today - I'm happy to look up and see this pretty new light in place.

Happy lighting,

Home improvement is harder than it looks

The following is a true story.  I haven't changed any names or details to protect the innocent. It happened earlier this week when I decided I would knock out two trouble spots before fall break.

The first hot mess was this plasticware storage cabinet in the kitchen.  It started out fairly neat when we moved in, but every time we pulled something out or put something away, it got a little messier.

Fetching a plastic tub for leftovers was a form of torture.

The second wreck was this under-sink cabinet area on my side of the bathroom.  Like the other one, it started out neater when we moved in but daily use took its toll.

This is the mess I faced each morning and night.

So I asked myself, just how hard could it be to bring some organization to bear?  I mean, reality TV shows can make over entire rooms in half an hour.  Surely this wouldn't take more than a few minutes, maybe an hour of my time, right?

(Insert hysterical laughter here.  Hahahahahahahahahahahaha.......)

A little background:  when we bought the house, someone had installed a wire two-tier pull-out thing in my bathroom cabinet, seen in the picture above.  (Curses to the builder who skimped on drawer space in the master bath to begin with. I know a base cabinet with only two tiny drawers is cheaper than one with a tower of drawers, but really?  You couldn't figure out how to squeeze a few more bucks out of the budget and upgrade the cabinetry to a reasonable amount of drawer space when the bathroom is bigger than most bedrooms and some apartments we've lived in?)

Ahem. Deep, cleansing breath.  In case you didn't pick up on it, a lack of drawers is a pet peeve of mine.  Well, really it's the disorganized chaos that stems from lack of drawer space that is the thorn in my side.

But anyhoo.  This cheesy little wire thing just wasn't cutting it - my jewelry was a slippery tangled hodgepodge, the hair dryer cord was always flopping over the edge and preventing the cabinet drawer from shutting.  And it looked a mess, no matter how neatly I arranged the bottles and containers of stuff.  Painfully messy.

For several months, I searched the stores and the internet for some decent shelving or drawer unit to insert in there, to no avail.

I finally resigned myself to plastic stacking drawers and tubs.  Gritting my teeth the whole time because I really, really dislike the plastic stuff:  it's flimsy, wobbly and otherwise prone to rapid failure.

But the wire pull-out thing would work great to corral the kitchen mess, and I needed to find something to organize my bathroom mess in order to free up the pull outs for the kitchen - it's a process.  Here is what I mentally sketched out beforehand:

1. Take all the stuff out of the wire unit, dump it in a laundry basket to temporarily hold it
2.  Move everything back in, using the plastic drawers and a bin or two.
3. Install the wire pull-out drawers and organize the plastic-ware.


1,2,3, easy as do-rey-me, right?  Errrm, not really.  I quickly realized why these two items had gone undone for so long.  For starters, the laundry basket was full of unfolded clothes.  For shame. No problem - dump them on the bed and fold them when I was done, right? Sure. Except the bed wasn't made either.  (WHERE are the laundry and cleaning fairies in my hour of need????)  This is how it really went:

Day 1:
1. Make the bed and dump the clothes out of the laundry basket.
2. Fill the basket with bathroom stuff and remove the wire pull-out unit.
3. Install the plastic containers.
4. Cringe and groan because I still hated how it looks - see what I mean?

This was the "after" picture.  Ugh.

5. Move on to the kitchen and install the wire drawers and organize the plastic ware.
6. Move the unfolded clothes back to the basket for the night.

Day 2:
1. Make the bed, dump the clothes back on the bed.
2. March into the bathroom in the cold light of day and take measurements.
3. Visit Target and find a shelf unit that could be cut down and re-tooled to work, plus baskets to optimize the storage space.
4. Pull out the plastic drawers and bins, and fit the new shelf unit around the plumbing (this involved screwing, unscrewing, sawing, re-screwing and installing. And a little glue.)
5. Return to Target to exchange the original baskets for others, because "optimize" does not always mean "biggest size they make."
6. Move everything from the plastic drawers to the new baskets.
7.  Move the unfolded clothes back to the basket.

Day 3:
1. Make the bed.
2. Fold the now seriously wrinkled clothes and put them away.
3. Return the plastic drawers to the store for a refund.

So instead of a few minutes, this became a project that spanned three days.   All of that, just to organize the contents of two cabinets. But on the bright side, I can now say:

The plastic ware is now neatly organized and accessible.

The bathroom cabinet is organized and functional - I make a happy sigh every time I open the cabinet doors now.  

My makeup and jewelry are in the shallow larger basket on top, easily accessible.  And my everyday jewelry is no longer in imminent danger of dangling or tangling.

The hair dryer has its own bin that is deep enough for the cord to stay neatly inside; cotton balls and swabs and other items have their own little cubby, too.  The other two cubbies hold everything else - lotion, contact lens solution, sunblock, razors, jewelry cleaner, and on and on - it's a lot of stuff stowed out of sight but within reach.

The clothes are folded and put away.

The bed is made.

An investment of about four hours over three days, including two trips to town, one $10 shelf and five $15 baskets equals peace of mind.  Which is priceless.

The end.


Happy organizing,



P.S. Please tell me...do your home improvement efforts go the same way mine do? Even if they don't, just tell me they do.

Masters of destruction

Apparently we can't leave well enough alone, not even for a few minutes.

Yesterday we closed on our new home.  (Happy, happy, joy, joy....)  We celebrated by mowing the grass and pulling weeds all afternoon.

Big dog oversaw our work from her hangout on the porch.

So can you guess what our first action  this morning will be?  (This was planned well in advance, I might add.)  It is not to move in anything, or start cleaning stuff.  Those are way too predictable.

Noooooo, our first to-do is to tear out the shower in the master bathroom.  Mind you, it is a perfectly good shower - it's not leaking, no nasty-funk-I-can't-get-clean, not even some hideous old gold sparkly tile (which we've actually lived with before.)  It is a simple, plain fiberglass shower stall.  Its only defect is it was too short and the backspray from the shower head had peeled away the paint around the top of the stall.  Instead of merely replacing the shower head and fixing the peeling paint, we opted to tear it out.  Because we are really good at tearing stuff up and we had a lot of practice on our last home - there's not much we can't take out.  Putting stuff back...not so much.  But prybars, hammers, chisels - we own 'em and we're not afraid to use 'em.

To our credit, we do have a plan:  we've lined up a contractor and selected the tile we'd like to use.  Hopefully the new shower design will fix the peeling paint problem once and for all...and give us a slightly larger and totally nicer shower in an otherwise gorgeous (and HUGE) bathroom.

When the tear-out is done, all that's left to do today is to have the carpets stretched, take down the old curtain rods and spackle over a few nail holes before Mr. Official heads off to the Friday night race.  We have a wedding to attend on Saturday in LA (Lower Alabama to the uninitiated), and Easter festivities on Sunday.

Starting Monday, work on the new shower stall will begin, while middle child and I are busy wielding paint rollers and brushes.  Five rooms in five days - easy peasy.

THEN we can begin the normal activities one does when one buys a house.  Like moving our possessions in and getting settled.

Happy remodeling!