The thing about DIY-ing, is that it requires patience and a proper technique. Something I’m in short supply.
This house we took on as a retirement home may just ruin my sense of let-me-see-if-I-can-do-it attitude. I’m so happy it’s a small house because my DIY mojo is fizzling– but I will never give in. I may be 95 years old, but I will still be trying something new. Or, as in my case, screwing something up.
Clearing the walls of the 18 years of nicotine buildup has required numerous attempts at home recipes as well as toxic suggestions. I was seriously doing a happy dance when I discovered that straight bleach was making the walls look almost new. I danced to a song I created of completely made up words—except the word guacamole because that’s my favorite word.
As for the smell, well…bleach trumps the smell of cigarettes. I had to stop using the bleach because it was burning my eyes. My husband found a product named No Gloves that seems to be doing the trick. There’s no smell to it.
One night, my husband and I had a little wallpaper removal party—in the same room! It may have had something to do with beer, music, and very little conversation, but we worked together in close proximity of each other and I didn’t tell him how to do anything–I don’t think.
We are moving along, now it’s time to fix all the cracked wall seams–which means tape and mud—oh, and removal of the old, cracked stuff. Drywall mudding is definitely a skill, but I knew this going in. I watched many YouTube video and read many DIY articles before I started. I felt prepared.
Apparently, I need to check the peanut butter container–not the chunky one–because my memory failed me and my first attempt at mixing mud created more work for myself. (yes, I know there is the premix kind, but I followed several suggestions to use a joint setting compound (apparently there is a difference) which only comes in the kind that has to be mixed with water–at least as far as I know.
To the seasoned DIY-er, this may give you a good eye roll…..on the third day I discovered that the taping knife has another purpose. It’s used to knock down globs due to rookie attempts.
Oh, and to any of you fellow smarty pants who believe you can do anything, there is a proper way to hold the knife. Once I learned that, I became Ms Give Me Another Wall Crack. Ha! I had that typed a certain way and had to change it–use your imagination.
One thing I’m certain of, we will make it through this with our marriage intact. As long as my husband continues to ply me with candy and blackberry pie, we will be just fine.