In a crazy turn of events, we spent most of this weekend fixing up the house.
(Starting to notice a pattern here?)
It’s fun, actually. I’m a little confused as to why I haven’t grown enormous arm muscles yet, but maybe I still need to lift another rug or two.
This is Kendrick’s studio (he gets the garage all to his lonesome) mid-makeover.
So far, we’ve removed the questionable-smelling carpet, bleached the floor and painted it a dark walnut, and put down a sort of improvised “area rug” of indoor/outdoor modular carpet tiles (so they’re easily replaceable in the event of spillage).
Rock Band is also present and accounted for.
We swapped out the coffee table for a more ’50s-style one that we’ve owned for about six months now but have been procrastinating about putting together because it looked like it’d be such a pain.
(It was a huge pain. Or so Kendrick tells me.)
And here’s where our old coffee table ended up: on our patio, in front of a two-person rocker/glider thing that I bought at Christmas Tree Shops (Olivia, thank you for the tip!) for thirty dollars. Yes.
Here’s another picture of my Morning Coffee Spot, just for kicks and because baby overalls are cute.