So here we are in mid-reno having taken down the upper cabinets and most of the plaster walls:
You’ll notice that we also removed all the plaster from around the chimney (actually, that area might have been drywall, though most of the house still had/has the original plaster from god knows when), thinking that some exposed brick might be nice. Well, as you can see, the proliferation of disgusting pipes running down the side was a big middle finger from the house to us (there would be more): ‘Nice try aging hipsters! No trendy brick for you!’ So we boxed it all back in again.
I say ‘we’ but by this time we had roped in the first of what would be many amazing friends for help, advice, labour, and just to come and drink beer with us when it all got too much.
The wonderful Neal had almost singlehandedly demoed the whole interior while I was running around doing god knows what (Sam actually working to make money to afford all this insanity). In fact, so great was his enthusiasm that I did have to start writing messages on walls: ‘Leave me Neal – I’m ok!’
Here’s what the backyard was looking like by this point:
This is also when I learned to drywall, thanks to the exceptionally talented Matt, who is a professional, but also happens to be a friend. He would come over and tell me what needed to be done, show me how to do it (having done the hard bits himself – usually by the time I had only managed to do something stupid like get the lid off a paint can), and then leave me to it. Best teacher ever – not to oversell my rather limited drywalling skills.
But here’s the proof:
I can’t even tell you how proud I am that I learned to do this. For an art girl with no useful or practical skills, this was a huge thing for me. This is the point when I actually starting thinking ‘you know what? – we can do this!’