Bathroom haven and havoc

One of the six tenets of good that I like to talk about is good living. My basic premise is that if we make our homes to be our havens, then we'll be prone to do more good in the world. Feng shui practitioners tell us that how we order our homes can enhance our destiny and opportunity prospects. Minimalists and tiny home advocates talk about the value of regaining control over our possessions and space. Folks who study happiness tell us that having sentimental objects in our homes, returning rooms to "ready" state, and cultivating an environment that encourages home-grown experiences can all play big roles in our happiness. 

No matter how we slice it, how our homes look and function matter. 

That said, I'm not here to weigh in on a McMansion versus tiny house debate. I'm merely advocating for doing what you gotta do to make the rooms you find yourself in be your happy places. And since I read a lot of DIY/home decorating blogs, I see how well some people pull that off. 

I'm not one of those people. To start, my budget for any room re-do is about $0. Okay, maybe a little bit more, but still pretty close to nada. Nothing. Zilch. Second, I'm not so great at photographing DIY tutorials. I may remember to take pictures while a project is in progress, but don't hold your breath. Last, I am genetically incapable (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) of finishing a home project from start to finish in a quasi-reasonable amount of time. 

Ahem. I promised in The Good Letter two weeks ago that my bathroom remodel would be done by September 1st. So, last night (August 31st, for those of you without a calendar), I realized I needed to get on the ball. We started the remodel last July, when Mike bought me a pedestal sink as an anniversary gift. A month or two later, we finally got around to ripping out the old vanity, pictured below. 

It was nice enough, but also, it kinda sucked. The sink and faucet were bronze, which means they stained. Every toothpaste droplet was forever memorialized. It was impossible to clean under all that scroll work on the bottom. The drawers were about 6 inches deep, and never fit quite right. And, although you can't tell from this photo, the previous owners did not paint the wall on the right side of the vanity, which was clear-as-day-obvious whenever I sat on the toilet. 

After we ripped out the vanity, we put it on the front porch, intending to find it a new home. The vanity stayed on the front porch through fall, where it held mums. And on through Christmas,  

when I covered the top with fake snow and decorated it with a ceramic snowman. We finally unloaded it onto someone in early spring. (See... genetically incapable of finishing a home project in a timely manner. And to think you doubted me.)

Well, as I said earlier, I took control of the situation last night, and I finished painting the bathroom. It's a beautiful dark gray color. I stepped back to admire my work, picked up the gallon paint can to put the lid on it, and BAM. This happened.

I guess the universe was telling me I needed to scrub the floor. Cleaning this mess was a pain, but it's all good now. I'm certainly glad the splatter missed the curtains. Definitely minor miracle territory there. 

The plan for the rest of the week is to hang stuff back up, scrub everything down, and soak in the satisfaction of taking AFTER  photos. I'll share them with The Good Letter readers on Friday. (To get your copy of the newsletter, just click here.) Until then, keep on feathering your nests, friends. Please share your triumphs with me. We all love a little home decorating voyeurism, right?