Mystery of meddling bat solved, Scooby

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: As reality has caught up with this blog about converting a 126-year-old Methodist church into our home, I’ve run across a few odds and ends that occurred after I wrote about the subject initially. That’s how it goes with a real-time memoir. Sometimes stuff happens after publication. This week I’m sharing a few little stories that will ultimately be integrated into the relevant location in the memoir. Think of this as the time in the novel—especially a mystery novel—when you page back to reread a few passages to remind yourself about what’s going on. Here’s a conclusion for Chapter 15.

# # #

Remember the solitary bat that appeared out of nowhere at the end of demolition? We chased it around fruitlessly until it ducked into the furnace room and disappeared?

bat hole
Bat hole. Repaired with duct tape.

A few weeks later, I noticed a quarter-size hole in one of the basement windows. Tyler chose the time-honored redneck method of repairing it with duct tape. While he was kneeling in the mud outside the window, he found the bat—dead on the ground. We surmised he may have escaped through the hole but succumbed to the elements once outside.

But at least he wasn’t in our furnace room.

# # #

Tomorrow: What “built solidly” means. Read about it here.

Danish concept of coziness ranks high in design style

Monica Lee3 Comments

Our story so far: As reality has caught up with this blog about converting a 126-year-old Methodist church into our home, I’ve run across a few odds and ends that occurred after I wrote about the subject initially. That’s how it goes with a real-time memoir. Sometimes stuff happens after publication. So for the next week or so, I’ll be sharing a few little stories that will ultimately be integrated into the relevant location in the memoir. Think of this as the time in the novel—especially a mystery novel—when you page back to reread a few passages to remind yourself about what’s going on. Here’s a tidbit for Chapter 13, in which I described our design style.

# # #

The mission statement for our design style was this:

We strive to create a comfortable sanctuary in the modern world, built solidly and maintained orderly.

Comfort was the first adjective for a reason; we didn’t want an art house that required ramrod posture and scared visitors away, and it was an important element of how we intended to decorate our home. I drew some of my inspiration from a book I read about Danish hygge, pronounced hooga.

“Hygge is about an atmosphere and an experience, rather than about things,” writes Meik Wiking in The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living. “It is about being with the people we love. A feeling of home.”

Wiking goes on to write about the coziness factor of candles, tea, comfort food and being present in the moment. As for décor: “Anything hand-crafted—objects created out of wood, ceramics, wool, leather and so on—is hyggeligt… . The rustic, organic surface of something imperfect or something that has been or will be affected by age appeals to the touch of hygge.” That’s that I wanted in our new home: Hygge.

# # #

Tomorrow: Whatever became of the bat from Chapter 15? Read about it here.

 

One woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: As reality has caught up with this blog about converting a 126-year-old Methodist church into our home, I’ve run across a few odds and ends that occurred after I wrote about the subject initially. That’s how it goes with a real-time memoir. Sometimes stuff happens after publication. So for the next week or so, I’ll be sharing a few little stories that will ultimately be integrated into the relevant location in the memoir. Think of this as the time in the novel—especially a mystery novel—when you page back to reread a few passages to remind yourself about what’s going on. Here’s a tidbit for Chapter 11.

# # #

If we couldn’t repurpose a material ourselves, there were three ways to get rid of items in the church we had no use for: Throw it away, give it away, sell it.

The giving away involved a lot of trips to Goodwill and elsewhere. When volunteers offered to haul stuff away for us, well, all the better.

Library 2
See the French doors, there on the right?

We found what were certainly the original French doors on the 1940s entrance to the sanctuary of the church. They were stored above the back entry to the basement along with a bunch of parts to pews and what looked like an old barn door that had been used as a table.

At first, I was excited, because we intended to put French doors on the doorway to our bedroom to replace the hollow-core doors there now. But upon inspection, I determined they could not be saved with any amount of sanding, stripping and painting. The wood was beginning to rot, and the peeling paint was probably lead based.

french doors
What might have been a sad end for a grand pair of doors.

So we put them with the trash, crossing our fingers the garbage man would take them. No go. We leaned them up against the back of the church while we pondered our options.

One day, a lady drove by while I was changing the church sign. She slowed to a stop, poked her head out her car window and asked if she could have our windows.

I gave her a puzzled look. “Windows?”

“In back. The windows leaning against the building.”

“Oh! Those are French doors. They’re in tough shape. You should look at them before you decide to take them.”

“Oh, I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” she said. “I’ll drive my van so I have room for them.”

“OK,” I said. “They’re yours if you want them. Just take them, even if we’re not here.”

Sure enough, they were gone the next day.

I don’t know what she did with them—some sort of craft project, I hoped. But I was happy these historical doors didn’t meet their end in the landfill. And that I didn’t have to haul them away.

# # #

Tomorrow: Design for hygge. Read about it here.

Between air conditioning and the pope, I’ll take air conditioning

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: As reality has caught up with this blog about converting a 126-year-old Methodist church into our home, I’ve run across a few odds and ends that occurred after I wrote about the subject initially. That’s how it goes with a real-time memoir. Sometimes stuff happens after publication. So for the next week or so, I’ll be sharing a few little stories that will ultimately be integrated into the relevant location in the memoir. Think of this as the time in the novel—especially a mystery novel—when you page back to reread a few passages to remind yourself about what’s going on. Today, a tidbit for Chapter 9.

# # #

Excelsior
Don’t miss how unique this is. All-caps unique.

Amusing things one finds in a 126-year-old Methodist church: Along with an assortment of pots of pans, a wooden box labeled TNT and a 1969 map of Palestine, Tyler found the owner’s manual for The Excelsior UNIQUE Oil Burning Air Conditioner in the furnace room.

An oil-burning air conditioner?

A careful reading of the manual from the Exelsior Steel Furnace Company revealed the air being conditioned was probably for heat, not cooling. There is no date on the manual, but I guessed it was at least sixty years old. Excelsior Steel Furnace was founded in 1886 and, based on the existence of an operational website, National Excelsior Company was apparently still in operation as an HVAC supplier. The oil furnace in the church had been replaced at some point by gas forced air.

# # #

Today’s headline comes from Woody Allen’s character Harry Block in “Deconstructing Harry.”

Tomorrow: What happened to the French doors we found. Read about it here.

Time out

Monica Lee1 Comment

28w0fpDear Readers,

It’s a big week at Church Sweet Home. The drywallers are coming! The drywallers are coming! This means we’ve entered Phase Three of construction: Drywall, Paint & Flooring. Tyler and I are so excited, we can’t sleep (well, that may be just a symptom of middle age, but you get the picture). A building really begins taking shape when Sheetrocked walls cover the studded ones.

I’ve also caught up to reality in the stories on this blog. When I started the blog back in late November, the posts were a month or so ahead of what was actually happening at the old Methodist church we’re turning into our dream home. But we don’t work on the church every single day, so reality inevitably caught up. I have a handful of vignettes in the vault awaiting publication, but let me tell you, I scrambled last week, writing blog posts day by day. Sharp-eyed readers may have noticed I changed my mind about the “tomorrow” installment more than once.

Meanwhile, I’ve run across a few odds and ends along the way, news that occurred after I wrote about the subject initially. Like, whatever happened to that bat that appeared out of nowhere and flew into the furnace room? And how were those sixteen-foot-long faux beams delivered to the church? (Hint: Not in an Amazon Prime cardboard box). That’s how it goes with a real-time memoir. Sometimes stuff happens after publication.

So for the next week or so, I’ll be sharing a few little stories that will ultimately be integrated into the relevant location in the memoir. Think of this as the time in the novel—especially a mystery novel—when you page back to reread a few passages to remind yourself about what’s going on.

Also, it might be a good time to show some love. If you’re a fan of Church Sweet Home, I’d love it if you told your friends about it, especially the ones who like to read real-life stories or the DIYers who binge-watch HGTV or the aficionados who appreciate historical restoration (and rubberneckers who are obsessed with real-time accidents—we welcome them, too).

To share on social media networks, just mention www.ChurchSweetHome.com. The best place for a new reader to start is here: https://churchsweethome.com/how-to-read-this-blog/

And, I learned a new trick: You can save Church Sweet Home right on the home screen of your phone, like an app. Here’s how on an Apple device: Just type www.ChurchSweetHome.com into the search bar on Safari and then look for the icon on the bottom of the screen that looks like a box with an up arrow. box with arrow Click it and scroll through the options until you find “Add to Home Screen.” (This is also how you might share the webpage with a friend via text (“Message”) or email (“Mail”) or Facebook (Facebook icon).) Now you have a short cut on your Home Screen that gets you right to ChurchSweetHome.com to read the latest.

In any case, I’m grateful to those of you who’ve come along for the ride and who offer words of encouragement. After working on the church for five months and a hundred years of winter, we appreciate it!

after the long winter
After the long winter, green finds a way.

Tomorrow: An oil-burning air conditioner? Read about it here.

 

Better to recycle light fixtures in a church than to curse the darkness

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: Among the light fixtures we procured for the old Methodist church we were turning into our home, we recycled the pendant chandeliers that once hung in the sanctuary by repainting them and installing new glass.

# # #

While we were paying homage to the church’s historical features, Tyler decided to relocate the milk glass ceiling lights he found in various locations in the church during demolition to the Hall of History.

Hall of History
The Hall of History had no windows so no natural light.

We were maintaining the only hallway that existed in the church. The fifteen-foot-long hall led from the sanctuary to the back stairway up to the second floor and included a closet and the doorway to what would someday be our bedroom. It had a high ceiling (after demo anyway) and beadboard up to the chair rail. He imagined we could hang pictures of the church throughout history on its expansive walls. Thus, he named it the Hall of History.

canopies rusty
Vintage light canopies.

He found three milk glass lights of various shapes during demo and a number of rusty canopies (the Lighting Savant taught me this term; a light canopy is the lamp part used to cover ceiling electrical boxes). Though the orbs didn’t match, Tyler thought it would be a nice tip of the hat to history by put them to work in the Hall of History. Once again, I employed spray paint to combat the rust on the canopies and create a uniform element for the disparate orbs. I chose satin black which would stand out against the white ceiling.

canopies black
Back to the spray paint zone.

And the screws to secure the orbs in the canopies? The old ones were so rusty I could hardly get them out of the canopies, but thanks be to Home Depot, the store offered a whole array of replacement options. Would it surprise you to learn I chose brass? Indeed, bright brass would be the discrete accent to set off the black and white fixture. Because details mattered.

# # #

Tomorrow: Odds and ends. Read about them here.

This little light of mine

Monica Lee3 Comments

Our story so far: Who needs duct tape when one has spray paint? I made use of it to rejuvenate a set of crystal chandeliers for use in the old Methodist church we were turning into our dream house.

# # #

I also employed spray paint to bring another set of light fixtures into my rustic transitional design scheme.

The lights we chose to hang in the sanctuary, our new great room, would feel right at home because they had hung there in the past, illuminating church services, baptisms and weddings for a least a decade, maybe a generation or two.

sanctuary light before
Sanctuary light fixtures before.

The former pastor had purchased the light fixtures when the congregation moved out sixteen months before we bought the church. She told us one of the members had donated them, so they had sentimental value. When she met us, she offered to sell them back to us for a song, to which we readily assented once we saw them. The design was a nice union of traditional and modern with a hint of religiosity but without overt evangelism. The cross on all four sides of the square fixture was a curved geometric design. Both Tyler and I were honored we could recycle these light fixtures and hang them where they were meant to be.

They needed a little work, and I was the right woman for the job.

spray paint zone
I used old electrical conduit to hang fixtures in my spray paint zone in the basement.

I disassembled them, sanded the surfaces, spray painted them hammered black (I tried a few parts in hammered bronze and rejected the two-tone look) and then hauled them all to the glass expert—the same one who would be installing our glass shower door at some point—to replace the dingy shades with seeded glass. They sparkled when he was done.

Now an associate of the Lighting Savant was employed to rewire them, and weave the wiring through the chains from which they would hang from the ceiling. These chains had been left empty and dangling from the ceiling when we took over. More than one member of the peanut gallery observed they were heavy enough to pull a car. Well, we were “building solidly” per our mission statement, weren’t we? These light fixtures would never fall down! Two of the chains were shortened considerably as the lights would be hanging over the balcony.

chains in situ
In this picture before we actually purchased the church, you can see the lonely chains hanging pointlessly in the sanctuary.

More than any other light fixtures, these chandeliers excited me. I could hardly wait for the day we would hang them from the beams in the sanctuary.

sanctuary-light-after.jpg
Great room lights after.

# # #

Tomorrow: Lights for the hall of history as Chapter 22 concludes. Read it here.

 

Good things come to those who wait

Monica Lee3 Comments

Our story so far: We invested in a number of new light fixtures for the old Methodist church we were turning into our home, but we also had big plans for some used ones.

# # #

spider chandeliers
These only thing these light fixtures were speaking to me was “I’m ugly.”

During demolition, I ran across a quartet of ugly, spider-like lighting fixtures. They were ugly to me because I disliked brass (if you’re a fan of brass fixtures, we’ll just have to agree to disagree; I’d heard brass fixtures were coming back, but that was just one trend I couldn’t endorse). I was so close to getting rid of them, I relegated these fixtures to the donate pile. Tyler stopped me. I didn’t understand why at the time, but he obviously saw something in them I couldn’t see.

Also during those early days of clean-up, I ran across a couple of banker’s boxes full of plastic crystals. I thought they might be Christmas decorations; perhaps they somehow hung on a Christmas tree like icicles. I packed them away with the intention of figuring out how to use them later.

Then, more recently, as we discussed how to run electrical wiring, Tyler and I browsed the lighting displays at a couple of big box stores. We were trying to determine which rooms would have can lighting, where we might put sconces, whether to put light kits on the ceiling fans. The electrician would need to know these nuances when he ran wiring through our ceilings and walls.

While in the lighting department, I was inexplicably drawn to the crystal chandeliers.

This was me being stupid. We didn’t have a ballroom in the church, and I didn’t spend a lot of time in floor-length gowns ordering around the servants. “Chandelier” wasn’t in the rustic transitional design plan.

But. Chandeliers are so lovely! Ethereal even. Evocative of heaven. Fit right into a church!

rustic chandelier
The very definition of rustic chandelier.

(I can justify anything.)

I began thinking I could maybe use those Christmas icicles I found in some sort of chicken cage or tin can to create a rustic chandelier (you’ve heard that definition of creativity that suggests putting two opposite things together in a new way? A tin can chandelier would be the dictionary picture for that).

I actually found a modern light fixture like this at Menards, so I’m not delusional. It’s a thing.

But before making this Frankenstein light fixture, I tried using my icicles on the brass light fixtures I found and almost gave away. Couldn’t hurt to try, I thought.

chandelier assembled
Check it out. Brass and plastic, transformed!

Poof! Magic happened! The crystals were made for the light fixtures. Whodathunkit? (You knew this was coming, right?) Beautiful! Two of them would be offer perfect lighting for the night stands in our bedroom.

OK, they were still brass, but I could remedy that.

Ever hear of spray paint? It’s magic, too. A few years back, Tyler and I turned sofa legs into the coolest curtain rod ends with spray paint (read about it here; it’s worth checking out just for the before-and-after shots).

# # #

Tomorrow: Great light fixtures for a great room. Read about them here.

What’s vanity without good lighting?

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: While shopping for light fixtures for the old Methodist church we were turning into our home, I met the owner of a nearby lighting showroom who described himself as a “lighting savant.”

# # #

While I could have chosen the exact same lights for all the bathrooms, I decided instead to customize each to the space. This wasn’t a hotel we were outfitting after all.

powder room lights
The display lights had a polished chrome finish, but the ones I ordered were in brushed nickel to match the faucet.

The first lights that caught my eye in the Lighting Savant’s showroom were the ones I chose for the powder room—the big, clear glass bells were distinctive without calling undo attention to themselves.

master vanity lights
This image from Pinterest inspired the master bath lighting choice.

For the master bath, I wanted narrow up-and-down lights in polished chrome to install between the three arched mirrors I planned above each sink and the make-up area. (Well, to be fair, what I really wanted was lighted, mirrored medicine cabinets, but that idea was shelved when I looked up the prices. Still, these were the most expensive light fixtures of all the new ones in which we invested.)

upstairs bath lighting
For the upstairs bath.

Upstairs, I planned a full-on farmhouse feel, and this was the bathroom where I planned to paint a pair of old dressers for the vanity. The vanity lights I chose were country-inspired glass in industrial polished chrome. The result had a dash of the nautical.

My new lights would be delivered in two to four weeks. Now I devoted my attention to recycling some of the light fixtures we found in the church. At first glance, some had more potential than others.

# # #

Tomorrow: Chandeliers? Really? Read about it here.

If Rain Man was into interior decorating

Monica Lee1 Comment

Our story so far: To aid the electrician in wiring the old Methodist church we were turning into our home, I got busy choosing light fixtures.

# # #

Lighting is the type of detail one only notices when one is paying attention. Suddenly, I was in the market for light fixtures, and I realized most lighting is so boring. But when I saw something interesting, well, it deserved to be admired. More than once while Tyler shopped in the building supplies department of a big box retailer, I would wander the aisles of the lighting department gazing up at all the flamboyant options until I got a kink in my neck.

Some of our light fixtures would be of the recycle-reuse-repurpose variety, but we still needed a few new ones.

One day, we stopped at a nearby lighting store. All light fixtures, all the time. The knowledgeable salesman (and owner, I found out later) showed off trendy options, affordable options and distinctive options plus all the options we could get in every option: More sockets? A different finish? Bigger? And look at how different lightbulbs change the look of a fixture! When he didn’t have the actual light fixture to show me, he pulled out inches-thick catalogs with more looks.

I marveled at his command of the vast inventory.

“I’m a bit of a lighting savant,” he said sheepishly.

I was paralyzed with too many options. He directed me to his website, where I found more options. But there I could do searches by type, size and finish. Still, I couldn’t pull the trigger until consulting with the Lighting Savant, so I made an appointment back at the store where he shepherded me to what I finally decided were the right options.

10514-ROB
The bulbs I chose look more like round bulbs than like candle flames. Who do you think you’re fooling? Fire is so Neanderthal.

For the front entryway, I chose a big, airy chandelier of which Joanna Gaines of “Fixer Upper” would be proud.

kitchen pendant

For the kitchen island, I found a trio of vintage industrial pendants with seeded glass.

# # #

Tomorrow: And for the bathroom vanities? See what we chose here.