Tag Archives: 2018

1 Second Everyday for 2018

Last year on a whim, I downloaded the 1 Second Everyday video app. The concept is that you do a video a day and pull one second from each to compile a video snapshot of the entire year. At the end of the year, you have a video that’s a few minutes long and showcases a little bit of your life from each day of the past year. How wonderful!

I will say upfront, I am usually terrible at sticking with something that has to be done every single day. I forget. I get tired of it. I get behind and then quit altogether. Something like this is most definitely not the type of thing I’d say I’m good at. However, I finished the year with only missing ONE DAY from my video. Just one day! Not only am I thrilled to have this documentation of such a big year, I’m incredibly proud of myself for sticking with it.

Continue reading

New Project: The Dark Wood House

Front of the House Introducing my next big project! This house and its massive shop have stood here since the early 50s. It was home to the Bunn family for over 50 years. Mr. Bunn was a deacon and a minister and performed in a gospel band all across Northeast Louisiana and South Arkansas. He loved West Monroe High School football and had a room in his shop, just for collecting memorabilia. He was a woodworker and so much of this home was constructed thoughtfully by him.

Continue reading

Making It Work

Moving Boxes at #wfwhitehouseOne thing that I’m really good at is making something out of nothing. It probably stems from not having a choice most of my life. I can remember my mom saving everything. Every single thing. There was never a scrap piece of wood or fabric too small. If there was a remote chance that it could be used for a future project, we kept it. I still do this. Continue reading

I’ll Be Moving Soon

Reflections of the bridgeI’ll be moving soon. I’ll be packing up and starting to live in this beautiful new house that I’ve worked so tirelessly on. I’m excited about it. I’m excited about my new, old house and everything it represents. I’m excited about a fresh start and about all the new memories that’ll be built in that place. And I’m also sad to leave where I am now.

Continue reading

All About the Original Wood Floors

Living Room FloorLiving Room Before and DuringLet’s talk flooring today. One of the selling points of this house was its original hard wood flooring that was throughout most of the house. Knowing that we could hopefully salvage these old floors both added to the house’s character and saved a big hit on the budget. For a brief moment, I thought we’d rehab those old floors ourselves and we rather quickly gave up that DIY dream!

Continue reading

#wfwhitehouse Early August Update

An outside view of progressIt’s starting to look like someone might be planning to live here! The front of the house has a coat of primer which is a great sneak peek at what it’s going to look like with fresh paint. Not to mention all of the freshly trimmed trees and vegetation. It’s looking more like a cozy home than an abandoned piece of history now. You can turn into the driveway without fear of scratching your car and another burn pile of limbs and such has been burned. That’s progress, folks!

Continue reading

Old House Update – Surviving the Middle

Coffee at 100 year old houseI finally feel like I have something to update you all on! We’ve been in that yucky middle part that I dread so much. It’s where things slow way down and it seems like NOTHING IS HAPPENING. Usually, you’re waiting on someone to do something and it’s where I lose all motivation. The good news is, I’m learning this about myself which means I can learn to be prepared for it. This is my fourth house to remodel in two years and it’s happened every single time. The yucky middle is where I lose motivation. So now that we’re coming out of the uneventful middle, I figured it’s time for an update! Continue reading

An Old, Ugly Suitcase

suitcaseI’m fighting the anxiety this week. Fighting it like a nemesis that showed back up after years of peaceful living without the battle of its control. I felt it immediately upon opening my eyes and I knew it was war.

This anxiety has waged war on my thoughts, my relationships, and my appetite. It showed up and demanded control of me, despite my resistance. As I walk the trails of my park, my refuge, I realize that I need to seek help again. I need to get a grip on this inner turmoil and I can’t do it alone.

I think about that therapist I just heard about. I think about scheduling an appointment and then immediately travel down the road of reasons why I shouldn’t bother. I might not like her. She might not take my insurance. My insurance might drop me if I don’t get my shit together.

Then I question, what would I tell a friend in this situation? If I saw a friend struggling in the way that I have over the years, what would I suggest to them? I’d say schedule the damn appointment. If you don’t like her, schedule another. And another. Until you find someone that can help ease the turmoil you feel. No one is supposed to live in misery. We all deserve to be free and happy and it’s time to do something about what’s been holding you back.

I entered into a new relationship and I brought years of hurt and fear with me. It’s like an old, tattered suitcase, full of years of disappointment and insecurity. It’s bursting at the seams it seems, like that suitcase that’s just a little too full. Like that suitcase that you sit on top of, squishing its contents as tightly as you can, just hoping to get it mostly zipped. You zip it and pull it behind you, secretly trying not to think about its potential to literally bust open at any moment. Hoping, praying even, that it’ll just stay together. That you’ll make it through the busy airport without anyone seeing your dirty undergarments scattered about on the floor.

That’s the suitcase I’m bringing with me. It’s stuffed full of dirty little insecurities. Times I’ve been hurt or felt inferior. Times I’ve worried about being left behind and harsh memories of when I was. It’s full of images of the things I hate about myself, including my tendency to think this way. If you were to unzip that bag, its first layers are neatly folded. It’s sorted into neat stacks and crisply pressed. You can tell that hours were spent folding things just right and smoothing out the wrinkled edges. It’s underneath that top layer that you begin to see the case’s real contents.

It’s disheveled and confusing. It’s as if you stuck your hand inside and swirled it about violently, looking for something frantically. Not the top layer though. It’s much more put together. I don’t want to carry this suitcase anymore. I’d like to sit it on the trail I’ve hiked for miles and bid it farewell. My arms are tired of hauling it and it’s really not serving me very well. I’d like a new wardrobe that’s not stained with shame from the past. I’d like a new suitcase, one that’s empty and begging to be filled with new experiences. I’d like to open and close this new suitcase without fear of its contents bursting from any exposed nook or cranny.

Truth being told though, I don’t know how to sit this suitcase down. It’s chained to me in some way and I feel obligated to carry it the rest of the way. It feels reckless to sit it down and I’d feel empty and exposed. When I encounter a new trial or obstacle, how will I face it without the arsenal of experiences stored in that bag?

As I think about it, I leave literal suitcases and bags scattered on the floor, delaying the task of unpacking them and putting them away. I loathe the process of pulling out the contents, refolding, and putting things away nicely. I’d much rather trip over that bulky suitcase for weeks than sit down and handle it today. That’s what I’ve been doing. Avoiding the suitcase, knowing fully that I’ll just continue to trip over it until I sort through what’s left there. Both the literal and figurative suitcases are holding me back. I can’t travel to the next oasis without first unpacking from the last trip. I can’t experience the absolute joy that’s waiting in this new chapter, no matter how badly I want it, without setting down my old baggage first. There’s a train for me to catch, a journey waiting on me to fully embark upon it but I have to empty that suitcase first. Empty it, put the items away, and open that new bag, that’s ready to be filled for the next trip.

I wrote this several months ago during a time when my anxiety and fear were running wild. I wrote it, never really intending to share it with anyone and it’s kept coming to mind the last few days. As I read it again, the feelings that prompted those words felt so real and I realized that there are many of you who know them all to well. Your triggers might not be the same as mine, though if you struggle with anxiety, you know how it feels to be overcome for seemingly no reason. I felt pressured to share, these words I intended to keep private, because something told me that someone out there needs a little nudge to seek help, just as I still do. Someone needs to not feel alone and to feel encouraged to reach out. I scheduled that appointment and while it took me several more months to do so, I’m back to working on the things that keep me up at night. If you, too, feel overcome with emotion at times, find a professional to help you navigate that inner dialog. Seeking help does not make you weak. As a matter of fact, only the strongest people have the courage to face those darker corners.

Old House Plans – The Front Porch

100 Year Old House FrontOne of the main questions I get about the new, old house is if I’m opening the front porch back up. The short answer — no. The porch is currently enclosed with old crank windows all the way around. I’m not sure when the open porch was closed in, but my guess is that it’s been that way for a very long time.

Continue reading