Backstory:
My house was built in 1906 near the rocky shore of Lake Superior.
We moved into our new old house almost a year ago.
I got excited about choosing a paint color for the dining room, which is the central room on the main level.
I painted a bunch of swatches on the walls one night while my husband was away.
I left them there to think about which I liked best.
I left them there because I was busy.
I left them there because I really wanted to face the embarrassment of hosting out of town family for Thanksgiving.
It's such a classy look.
These swatches have now been on my wall for almost a year, and I'm ready to move on to a different kind of crazy.
I decided to put up wallpaper. Then I decided not to put up wallpaper. I decided to put up wainscoting, I decided not to put up wainscoting.
I own five books about paint colors. I own three complete paint fan decks.
I know a little about color.
Something had to give. I forced myself to make a decision.
One of the colors below will be in my dining room.
I took a picture, looked at the picture, and then eliminated the ones that didn't speak to me.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Bought the paint.
Didn't like it.
Mixed up my own custom color because that is the only gosh darn way to get anything done.
Meanwhile, why don't you assess the plate rail situation?
Do all plate rails like to keep a 1/4" gap between themselves and the wall?
No? Just mine?
Also take a moment to notice the previous owner's paint job. I'll wait.
Does this help in your assessment?
Let the record reflect that yes, I have 46,000 paint swatches on my dining room walls, and yes, they've been there way beyond the allotted time. But let it also show that I would never, ever slap some latex paint on top of oil-based paint on top of antique woodwork without primer and without even cleaning up the pebbles, dryer lint, bird's teeth, and other detritus before hand.
Methodical decision maker, me? Perhaps.
Purveyor of shoddy workmanship? No ma'am.
I shall now compose a letter to the previous owner(s) of my home.
Dear Previous Owner(s) of My Home,
Please take your awful painting skills for a long walk off a short pier.
And not one on Lake Superior, either. The Coast Guard here is too competent, and they're just itching for some excitement.
We do have 11,000 other lakes that might be able to assist you in the short pier department.
Love,
Yarnista.
The plate rail had been badly repaired in four sections. Emphasis badly.
We bit the bullet and took it down. Took it down so new stuff could be put up correctly.
This is what was behind the plate rail.
Yes, that's a hairpin. Yes, I'm perplexed.
I also love this fine piece of workmanship here. Oh, 105-year-old plaster needs patching? How about we just cut some drywall to fit? That'll blend seamlessly.
See? Totally seamless.
You might be asking yourself if I'm ready to check into a "sober living facility" for "exhaustion" yet.
The answer is no. As my friend Katie likes to say, I'm from hearty Midwestern stock. If the worst I have to worry about is some perfunctory painting and some poorly patched plaster, then don't look that gift horse in the mouth.
Speaking of gift horse.
The horsedog is now a year old. She loves construction projects, especially ones where she gets to lounge in plaster dust.
This is the horsedog's finest hour.
More dining room renovation updates to come soon. The train has left the station, ladies and gentlemen. No getting it back in the shed now.