Projects & DIY

Is the world still into DIYers? My wife DIY a lot of things. The main reason is that we have a budget and can’t always just pay someone to do something for us, or pay for a ‘real’ product. We’re also lucky that my dad is retired, lives close, and loves projects.

For example, we purchased a solid wood chest at a salvaged building materials shop and turned it into a cat litter box hider. We sanded it and cut a hole for the cats to go in, then painted the chest and redid the hinges. But when people see it, they have no idea it hides cat poop. Exactly the point. You can buy the same thing in press-board for at least twice what we paid to make it ourselves.

We built a wood railing in our ‘nook’ on the landing. Well, we purchased all the pieces and put it together (with my dad’s help). We did not shape and create the baluster or the newel posts or the top and bottom rails.

Recently, we took a wood stove out of the house. It was sitting in front of the fireplace on the hearth, taking room and looking ugly. (Besides, we can’t get earthquake insurance because our chimney/fireplace is real masonry, so we may as well use it!) The prior owner had painted the fireplace, but painted around the stove. So we’ve painted that to match. Now we’re waiting for a chimney cleaner/inspector before we do more.

At some point, we’re considering putting in a fence in the front yard. Just a short one. I want to put it in ourselves, rather than pay for someone. Just think of the savings! Honestly, I think the hardest part is digging the post holes and getting the posts in correctly. After that, the rest should be a breeze, right?

We’ve been in this house for almost a year – we purchased it last year in March. And it seems like it is a never ending stream of projects that need completing. But I guess that’s just what happens when you own a house. Or so I’m told.

Loveliest of Trees

by A. E. Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.