I think I’ve gone over the edge.

It all starts so innocent. An idea. A thought. A plan. Then it turns into something huge. Something bigger and badder than anything before it.

At first, I thought, well, what the heck. Let’s try this out. Let’s start with our food. I’ll make most everything from scratch. Easy enough. In a pinch? Better read the label. I don’t want any preservatives, chemicals or grossness in it. So the sickness begins…

Then I thought, why buy new? I can just fix up the existing and make it better.

It started with the stools. I took off the backs, painted and reupholstered them. They look great, I feel great, and I saved a lot of money.

I started to look around the house. What can I make better? What can I do next? Searching, scrounging, drooling at the mere thought of a home improvement project. And then it hit me. The front door.

We live in a housing development where all the houses look pretty much the same. If you don’t know me well enough by now, I hate being like anyone else. Hate. I like to go with the flow, march to the beat of my own drum, be original. A free spirit if you will. So living here in my cookie cutter house tends to cramp my style. But I LOVE my house. Love it. I’ve slowly been turning the inside into our own space in the world. But the outdoors leaves much to be desired.

So the front door. It was white. It was probably the cheapest door in the history of front doors. Aluminum with a small 3×3 window with a gross yellow lattice detail. The previous owners had a door knocker on it. Matt had gotten tired of being the Halsteads for about a year, so he removed it, and I purchased a new one. However, the sizing didn’t match up, so we had a hole and a lot of scuffs from where the old one had been.

So I got a big idea. (Bad….bad….bad….) I was going to revamp the front door! I painted it a color called Iced Tea, frosted the glass for privacy, added a kick plate and spray painted the door knobs (they needed a lot of lovin’.) But I didn’t stop there…no! I decided the trim needed a paint job, too. I want our house to be pretty. To be deserving of it’s awesomeness.

I bought a paint color called Pumpernickel. It is true to form. When our little house’s trim is done being painted, it’ll stand out on our block for sure.

(This is before we put the kickplate on. But you get the idea. I enjoy my crown molding detail. I know, I know. I’m lame.)

My sickness is now growing into an addiction. Haven’t I mentioned my issues with addiction before? Oh yah. I did. My little niece is turning 1 next week. What do you get a one-year-old on their first birthday? I thought a nice home made gift from Auntie Cassie would do well. So I’m going to make her personalized name blocks. Why buy them when I can make it, right? Sick. Me. Sick.

Just you wait, my blogging friends. I’ll show pictures. Unless they suck.


About Cassie

Two sisters from two misters. What could be more fun?

Posted on May 23, 2010, in Bright Ideas, Cassie and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Again, here we are with another reason we’re alike… I’ve also spent my life trying to be different than everyone else.

    The big DIFFERENCE is that you actually do work to accomplish that.

    • Cassie or Carly

      You can do whatever you want to be different. Get a tattoo or something. Dance around your house in women’s clothing…wait, what?

  2. I love it!

    I have a compulsion about finishing things in a set, books, tv shows, etc. It’s kind of sick. Thus when we moved into our new house I compulsively painted every room in the house until it was how I liked it… until I hit the wallpaper. Wallpaper is hard to remove. But I’m not giving up.

    Congrats on the door project though. It looks very nice.

    • Cassie or Carly

      I totally understand. When we bought our house, we painted every room in a day. Then just recently, I wanted the colors different. I’m so annoying.

  3. I think I might actually be the long-lost third sister from a different mister.

    • Cassie or Carly

      Welcome! Perhaps we have the same father? I mean, hell, I’m a product of a one night of loooooove….

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