If These Walls Could Talk

There is no amount of planning that prepares you for a massive historic home renovation. This is our third such project, and so far, the most exciting. There are hiccups already, but the planning carries on. Our contractor, Original Space, has been the perfect blend of fire-under-the butt and easy going-easy to work with. The crew is done with the demo (amazing that a house still stands!), and the framing and floor straightening has begun. I’m working with the marvelous people at Wilkinson Supply to figure out appliances, countertops, fixtures, sinks, all that stuff. This is where the fun begins.

Seriously, don’t buy appliances without some one on one time with Paul. Where was he in my last projects?! Paul knows what he’s talking about, and he has more knowledge about every single appliance brand than all the sales people at every big box retailer mushed together. Better yet, the way he shared information with me was engaging, and dare I say, fun? I can’t wait to see what shakes out here. All I know is this, I’m ready to cook, and Kelly Ripa is a really poor choice for an appliance spokesperson. I mean, really, I just want to feed the girl a double cheeseburger and a piece of chocolate cake.

But I digress…

 

I am not a handy girl. I don’t really have any idea what is under the plaster walls of this house, but I do appreciate the details of all that we find. Look at this mess of knob and tube wiring hanging like electric spaghetti. Look, no stairs! Walls are coming down, folks.

 

A closer look at the plaster and likely original 1920 wood slats beneath.

 

Look, Dean was here! Dean has very girly handwriting. We found this on some framing in what is now the downstairs powder room. I can’t help but wonder what became of Dean.

 

View of the third floor stairs to the front door. Eventually there will be an open staircase on all three floors. I’ve been exercising my vocal chords since the intercom system will be powered by me. I’m also thinking about finagling a pulley system to send notes in a bucket. How fun to find an old pulley and rig it up! Any ideas on this? Remember, I’m not handy. I’m an ideas gal.

 

Mac Daddy and the boys are peering out the second floor balcony, soon to be a sweet little office in the master suite. The boys are in awe that the walls are down all over the place.

 

See that ginormous steel beam down there? It’s soon to be hoisted into the ceiling in what will eventually be my kitchen. I trust that Paul and Wilkinson Supply will help make it swoon worthy. I just might go to bed dreaming about a Miele dishwasher. Do you see how hot it is to be married to me?

 

Here’s a peek from one living room to the other (the original house was built as a duplex in 1920.). When the friars lived there those red walls were covered in paneling painted yellow. It served as a small chapel. The crew tore down that paneling and found some funny stuff. It’s clearly from the house’s fraternity days.

 

Beverage, anyone? I’m going to frame this photo to hang in the wet bar. It’s as if those frat boys knew that 5:00 Fridays would come to roost here one day.

 

Hammer and sickle. From what we can tell, this was all painted in the 1950s.

 

The boys got a kick out of this, though they are unsure of the interpretation. I’m going to frame this to put in the laundry room.

 

This work of art is painted above the whole fireplace mantel. I’m unclear what it is. The little flags on the buildings in the painting say “AVC” and “VC.” Any Raleigh old timers know what that could mean?

 

“There’s a giant toilet on the wall!” That’s the first thing Bird and Deal were clamoring when we walked in. Proof that potty humor has been, and will always be, en vogue with boys of all ages. Someone did a pretty swell job painting a giant toilet on the wall of the living room party room. I could use that “please flush” sign in all the bathrooms.

And lastly, we give a nod to the pledges of 1958. We’ll do you proud, Babe, Berk, Fish, and Stud. If these walls could talk indeed.