1 Sep

It’s September and we here on Pig Hill could not be happier.  This means it’s not 90+ degrees in our little house while we’re trying to spackle, paint and sweet jesus, pull nails…so many nails.  It means nice cool weather so I can walk to work and not arrive dripping buckets.  We can go pick apples!  It means there will be nostalgic care packages being carefully crafted and sent to the most awesome people I know in New York, Boston, London & beyond.  It means we’ll switch from grilled everything to roasted everything and I wont have to weep at the thought of turning on my oven for all day baking sessions.

September 1st also means we have a mere twenty days (!!!!!!) until our first house guest.  One of my best friends and future bridesmaid will finally be coming to Pittsburgh to see the house, talk minimal wedding nonsense, and most importantly – meet the boy!  She is one of my dearest friends and it’s been over a year since we’ve seen each other (and a crazy year at that).

We started the whole rehab with lofty goals that the bulk of the messy work could be pounded out over the summer, the painting and carpet removal, kitchen rehab & garden gutting (essentially).  However, here in the little brick shack, we are well…dumb.  Overambitious is probably a more appropriate word.

Regardless, I come to you today, two months after closing with not a single room in the house done.  And I don’t just mean done as in show room ready, styled to perfection, with knick nacks acquired during quaint thrifting trips on the weekends and the perfect combination of vintage and modern furniture chosen and placed.  I mean not done.  At all.  I mean our original plaster walls crumbled when we tore down forty year old wallpaper and they needed infinitely more time and care than we had imagined. Days upon days (more like weeks honestly) of spackling, and sanding and then oh yeah…repeat.  There was other wallpaper that refuses to budge.  Thousands of staples held down the carpet padding.  One room had mysterious plywood nailed down under the carpet with a massive nail literally every inch around the edge of the board with two lines of nails running every inch down the center.  Whoever installed our carpet decided that the standard nail every four inches on tack strips was not sufficient and so a large nail was placed between EVERY SINGLE NAIL along EVERY SINGLE FOOT of tack strip.  Lets just leave it at, “it was way more work than it should have been” (and I’ve ripped up a lot of carpet in my short time).  Lord help him if I ever find the man who installed the carpet.

But, here we are, back on track (I think).  Decisions have been made, paint purchased, supplies acquired and loads of prep work done.  Plumbers have finally been found, electricians tracked down, and flooring quotes given (I’ll try not to think about that right now).  So we’re going to barrel through September with posts often, if not daily, I promise to show you just how much two schmucks with 50+ hour work weeks can accomplish in their “free” time.

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