Perfection, the Remodel Project, and Being Happy With In Between

I am learning this:

If you force a choice between perfection or nothing, you'll usually get nothing.

I can put off tasks for just like ever, fearing to begin because I won't do it RIGHT.

Such was the case of our bedroom, that little room in the back corner of this old farmhouse. It was still decorated in mauve and green. It's not like I had time to redecorate every other year, but still. It needed a redo.  And redo's involve Decisions. And Change. And Shopping, that horrifying task.  And worst, Maybe Getting It All Wrong.

But I was slapped into action by The Flopping Elbows. We had a small bed in that small room, and I sleep with a large husband with long arms who swims in his dreams, and leads zumba classes, and wins the American Ninja Warrior challenge.

So there was less and less sleep for me.

The husband likes solutions, and fixing, and diving into projects like eagles swoop down from great heights at the leaping trout in Clear Lake.

If we knocked out part of a wall and moved the doorway, we would gain enough extra square feet to move the dresser over there and get a bigger bed, he said.

So we did.

This meant that I had to make a long, long, list of decisions. EEP.  And I had to think about colors. Gaaaaah. And I had to shop.  Noooooooo!!!

And I might get it wrong.

Those blogger/Instagram/Pinterest people who have what is called an "effortless sense of style" in decorating--how do they do it? How do they choose that arrangement? Those neutrals or colors? That basket?

I asked for ideas.

A number of readers weighed in, and gradually I got a sense of what I would try.  As much as possible, we would take things back to their 100-year-old basics. And I would go for plain wood and lots of white.

Slowly, I would add color. It didn't all have to be polished and perfect when the last nail was pounded in. I could do it little by little.

I could even use my old, too-small spread until I found something I liked better. Imagine that.

We moved back in, and I love it.

I'm going to show you pictures even though it isn't finished, and even though adorning and coordinating a room are not my strengths at all.

But guess what: I let go of perfection, and I find the room restful and welcoming.

The result is neither perfection nor nothing, but something in between, and that feels like a big accomplishment to me.

This is the original floor that was under a carpet and a layer of linoleum.
I love it. Paul finished it exactly right.
The dresser is one he had someone make for me several years ago.
My mom crocheted the rug.
One bifold closet door still needs to be attached.
Why does that lady have a fan by her bed? Maybe she is Of That Age.

The laundry hamper was Mom's. The wastebasket is one of Dad's old milk buckets.
The handle still clanks just like it used to long ago.
Another of Mom's rugs is on the left. It is one of the few colors in the room, so far.
The corner of the sheet is hanging out.




I found this light fixture at a garage sale for $5.
It fits right in, I think.
That's the original ceiling.





This is my little Eck [corner] in the area under the stairs. I want to have my Bible and prayer times there.
Right now it holds an old school desk of Amy's, but I think I want something different.
It also holds a few decorative things that haven't found a home yet.
Do you see the shiplap?




On Saturday, Paul cut that hole in the wall and then crawled under the house and shoved a wire up inside the wall.
He is very brave.
I crouched over there and grabbed the wire when it appeared, and pulled it through.
That didn't take so much bravery.
I think the chair was Emily's. I can't decide if I like it and need it in that corner, or not.

The lamp is one of Mom's old jars, filled with wooden spools of thread.
Should I get cream-colored curtains? Do all the whites have to match?
I found these for $2 at a garage sale.
It was a cheap way to test the color-waters before I invest in serious curtains.

The nightstand was another garage sale find. I decided to use it for a little while
before I put in the work of painting it.
Sadly, it's too tall.
But I'll use it until I find something better.
Paul's construction tools are still on top of the dresser.





So there is the result of Paul's hard work and my going ahead with decisions and choices even though
I didn't know what I was doing.
Also, that lump in the bathroom is a pile of pajamas and personal things I took off the hook behind the door
so they wouldn't show in the photo.
And then I forgot to shut the door.

Remember: if you insist on perfection, you'll get nothing.
At least if you're like me.