Thursday, 31 May 2018
Wednesday, 23 May 2018
Let's get ready to decorate PART 1
Oh hi
there. I just burned my left index finger on a heat gun and thought it
would make a great excuse for a spot of IRN BRU and blogging. There's
this project I've been working on - you see, I got family coming over: my mum,
bother and a Roger (who's like family anyway), and only one bedroom to spare
between them. It’s not really a question
of space, not really, as we got plenty of that here in chez nous… more so, the rooms we have
available are sort
of scary. Picture this: forcing ma
into the haunted attic while Roger takes the cellar of horrors. Or have my bro sleep with the spiders in the
abandoned toilet behind our kitchen. As
much as the idea of traumatising our houseguests for life attracts me, the time is ripe for some good old fashioned painting and decorating.
The chambre we chose to do up as the second
spare room, is situated on the ground floor and has been largely disused due to
an old leak in the ceiling. Naturally, this was something we fixed straight away upon moving in, but the space remained
somewhat of an afterthought until now.
Filled to the brim with tools, doggy stuff and disused furniture, it was not a part of the house I was particularly proud of. In truth, my distain of this room runs much
deeper than I would like to admit, largely because there is actually very little wrong with it. Sure it’s hideous and dated, but everything
is in such good nick! The ceramic tiles,
for example, as offensive as they are, have been laid by a skilled professional
to be perfectly level and the revoltingly orange wood panelling is as good as
the day it was installed.
A shoddy real estate picture versus how we left the place having removed some wallpaper and fixed a leaky roof. |
And I hate that. I detest the fact that there is nothing really wrong with this room and how that makes me feel like a wasteful idiot for wanting to change everything about it just because it is monstrously ugly.
But how
do you deal with dated décor, in a way that utilises all available resources to their best potential? Impossible dilemma. This space was scrapped in the late seventies
or early eighties, presumably to turn it into a granny flat for someone who was
unable to get up the stairs. As the
renovations were done with care and good expense my guess would be it
might have been commissioned by one of the past proprietors for
themselves or for a relative of theirs. Consequently,
no part of the original floor remains, neither a trace of the old fireplace, but
the built-in cupboard/wardrobe was left untouched as was the circa 1910 wooden framed window – the only one left in the whole house. Even with the nauseating mix of retro
finishes, I think this turd can be polished without ripping the place apart,
hopefully, resulting in a beautifully layered mix of old and new.
As jobs
come, this one is right up my alley; being a painter by trade, I know how to
spruce things up with a shade or two. Here’s
the plan - not only will I be treating the ceiling and walls, scraping, sanding
and painting all the woodwork including the orangey tongue & groove
panelling, but painting the tiled floor as well. I already bought the paints, (more about
those later) but before the fun begins every surface needs to be prepared. My dearest James, who’s commuting back and
forth between his job in the UK and Mazamet, was here to help me kick start it
all. He wielded the wallpaper kettle
like a champion and managed to get rid of all wallpaper and their respected liners. The more recent of the two layers from was already gone when we started – shoddily installed 90’s orange, but a thick
layer of 80’s Miami Cool took for
ever to steam off. I took my trusted Mac
Allister to the wood panelling and sanded away as much of the surface lacquer
as I could. It was the first of many sanding jobs to come and, as I later discovered
to my utter dismay, the easiest one by a streak.
Faded but still there - hand stencilled diamond pattern and remnants of florals |
Underneath
all that mouldy wallpaper, we discovered some interesting fragments from the
past: a faded but clearly visible art deco paint job including a painted frame
for a mirror or a picture (presumably of religious nature) and remnants of an older
floral motif, both stencilled straight onto the walls. All too far gone to be kept, sadly, but a
lovely thing to uncover. A weekend’s
worth of serenity later, I continued the gig by patching up a few holes with
plaster and skimming over anything uneven, followed by another run with the
sander, this time leaving me, the dog and everything else in walking distance
from us covered in plaster dust.
To
continue with the theme of creating a huge mess, I started to prepare the
tongue and groove ceiling for a lick of paint.
Beyond where the old leak had damaged the paint job, it was in decent
nick and looked like an easy scrape and sand job. No such thing. It was, in fact, soul destroying and seemed to
go on for days. My dad would be proud to
hear I was wearing my protective mask all the way through.
No goggles though, and listen up boys and girls, this is why you should always wear them: little sharps
of paint can be really f*cking painful when they lodge themselves into your
eyes.
But goggles steam up – it’s irritating.
It would
make an interesting philosophical point to debate whether one gets more
irritated with slashed eyes or blurred vision while sanding, but for
everyone’s sanity, I won’t bother. Do as
I say, kiddos, not as I do.
Two sides of a door frame, one with layers upon layers of floss and the other stripped bare. In the middle you see just a few of these lovely layers of paint. |
And all
this brings us back to the heat gun – the last instrument on my list of sorrows
before the painting begins. Well, I do
actually love this part. It is time
consuming for sure, but isn’t it great to see the different layers of paint
melting away before your eyes, revealing near-virginal woodwork? Revealing traces of old paints, layer upon
layer, decade after decade, makes me feel like Indiana Jones. So you know, before everything got slathered
with salmon pink, the woodwork in this room was cream white, yellow, light turquoise, teal, sage green, concrete grey and finally, deep chocolate brown, all brilliantly
reflecting the changing fashions of different decades.
For those
not too familiar with painting and decorating basics, removing layers of old
paint does have benefits beyond getting to admire the tastes of previous
decorators and burning various parts of your body while operating a heat
gun. Oil gloss in particular is thick
stuff and a century’s worth of it can clog up the profile of your woodwork,
making it less refined and less pretty. Tons of the stuff can also prevent
doors and windows from opening and closing properly.
Likewise, there is a school of thought that believes in reducing the
paint build-up of radiators for more efficient distribution of heat. You can use a chemical paint stripper just as
well, but I don’t want to risk our dog messing around with that stuff... and I love
to watch the world burn.
Having
gone back to bare wood there’s always the option of not re-painting it, but
giving it a light sand and a protective coat of varnish, wax or oil of your
liking. But manage your expectations as
not all wood you will uncover will look stunning straight off the bat. In old as well as modern homes, inferior wood
or knotty wood such as pine is often used on baseboards and trims instead of
more expensive hard woods. Most of our
timber in this house, with the exception of our stunning oak staircase, is pine from the Montagne Noire. Some like the look of it, some not and I will
just have to take each case as it comes and see what bits might look great au naturel. Like me, you might find evidence of old repairs and depending on the quality of the wood used, they can be treated to match the original woodwork.
Making everything
ready for paint has taken me just about a week with the aid of a wallpaper
kettle, electric sander and a heat gun – oh, and James. His contribution was massive as it would have
taken me twice as long to steam those walls on a ladder! And material wise, I’ve used half a bag of
patching plaster, so around a kilo of the stuff, as well as a bit of polyfilla
that I found from the back of the cupboard.
The paint colours are picked, bought and ready to go as well as my
rollers and a mystery stencil for the floor.
Yes, he is helping... |
So, this
is where I am at with my mission of eradicating forbidding spare rooms
in our house: fingers full of burns, blisters and what have you, but very
happy about the progress made.
AND, during my sabbatical in the UK, while I was neglecting this blog, I made chez nous an Instagram account! Check us out and give me a shout out
@cheznous21 – I’d love to hear what you guys think.
Next blog
will be all about ‘dat paint, ‘dat paint.. no dribbles.
Labels:
bohemian living,
bohostyle,
decorating,
mazamet,
old house,
painting,
plaster,
renovating,
restoration,
South of France
Location:
Mazamet, Ranska
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