We woke up to rain. Not the light, misty drizzle we had yesterday, which we cheerfully worked through, but a sodden, wet downpour that shows no signs of letting up. Fortunately the painters are taking a break today between the primer and the flat, so we can work inside. We agree that Steve will trim and caulk around the edge of the ceiling, so that will be ready for the painters tomorrow. This is ladder work – tall ladder work – and between my always bad sense of balance and a recently broken ankle, it’s out of bounds for me.
Instead, I embark on a bead board rescue mission. During the heavy construction phase, Vincent and the guys salvaged quite a bit of bead board. Now, as Vincent keeps reminding us, you can buy 4’ x 8’ sheets of quarter inch bead board at pretty much any lumber yard or home store that’s a reasonable match for what we have, but ours is the real thing – 3/4” old growth redwood – and we want to use it, nail holes and all.
I slog back and forth through the rain, pulling it all out from underneath the shed, where it’s been stored, and piling it on the porch, where I’ll measure and cut it – the planks are two beads per plank in lengths ranging from less than three feet to the full 11.5’ height of the Schoolhouse. Some of the boards have old wallpaper on them – I remember Vincent telling us they’d found this hidden inside one of the walls, so the colors are still vibrant. There are six boards with paper on them.
I line them up, just for fun, and then rearrange the planks to try to match the original pattern. It’s really cool. Steve comes over to consult – where can we use what’s essentially a mural, about 3’ high and 4’ wide? We decide to add enough planks onto the ends to use for the back of the kitchen island. I trim the papered planks to 34 1/2” – kitchen cabinet height – and add some more, choosing colors that go from white to an inexplicable pink (maybe originally the girls’ bathroom? Who knows?)
I sand the painted boards, and carefully clean up the papered ones, gluing down stray shreds. Then I coat everything with water based polyurethane. It’s amazing – gorgeous – “totally Anthropologie,” Steve says.
Steve’s still balancing on a ladder exactly the way the picture with the red circle and slash through it says not to and I can’t watch, so I spend the rest of the day on the porch pulling nails from the rest of the old bead board and cutting it to 33” (under the windows) and 40” (high water mark) lengths, piling the impossible to use pieces on our “to be hauled” pile.
Steve’s a little cranky – not surprising after a bug day like he’s had. But today’s a windshield day for me.