Stars aligned, dream job wrapped, all is well...Amen

Sometimes, everything works out beautifully. A great job comes to me, great clients building a beautiful home in a dreamy development, great builder, agreeable designer. Pinch me. The job I finished today was just such a job. It really was wonderful in every way, this despite the fact that the clients moved in probably a month too soon. Which means they've been living with me, and cabinet makers and stainers and landscapers and pool guys and bobcat drivers and blind installers and bed bringers and rock layers and alarm putter-inner-testers all underfoot, oh just for the last month.

So when I say they are great clients, let me stress how wonderful they are because never once did they express seething hatred for anyone scurrying around their new dream home, in their way, at all hours of their newly retired day. I think I'm going to miss them.


This picture hardly reflects the richness of this kitchen island. I can't say how impressed I am with the Faux Effects Stain & Seal. I was always a Gel Stain girl. But on this job, I didn't kill any brain cells (that I know of) using anything oil-based. Yay for my brain, right?

All the cabinetry in the kitchen is stained a dark walnut-ish stain on knotty alder. They're beautiful cabinets, but the island is set off with an antiqued paint finish. The color is similar to Sherwin Williams' Tatami Tan, but it's really a special mix of Camel and Woody Yellow Setcoat, which makes it so much more durable.

The saying "it's all in the details" is such an understatement with this home. This ceiling treatment is so fabulous. It's in the family room and the man of the home's study/office. Gorgeous.

Are these travertine floors to die for or what? They're laid on the diagonal with the little marble insets. These floors delayed the job oh, a month or so. But I'd say they were well worth it. My client just had to have this chair and its twin. I think they look pretty good with my walls, which are very subtle, not screaming at you "look at me, I'm faux painted!!!!"

Here's another look at the hand-troweled walls. My antiquing finish, what we once called "tea-staining" was a custom blend of Faux Effects Faux Creme Clear, Earth Brown and Italian Sienna.

The powder room turned out really cool. The designer wanted to use one of those new hand-painted wallpapers, but the cost was apparently more than the client felt necessary. I was able to come up with something just as dramatic using a basecoat of Dark Brown Setcoat, plus Lusterstone in Charred Olive, Charred Gold, and a couple of gold Metalglow colors mixed with glaze. It is awesome. The picture above gives you a little bit of a hint, but hardly does justice. I seriously need to hire someone to go take pictures of this house and think I will once they really move in and install their artwork and decor.

So that's what I've been doing. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself now that I don't need to drive almost to Boerne everyday. But I'm sure I'll figure out something. La Posada is calling me: "Samiiiiii, I miss you ..... I'm only three hours away ..... I promise no drug lords will kidnap you while you loll about safely beside the pool with the swim up bar ..... "

This is why I can barely move ... and I need your help!

Apparently I used my hip flexors in the making of this patio down by the water. I know this because any time I try to move in such a way that my hips are involved, pain shoots up and down and all around my body. I am bone tired.

But it was the best weekend. I worked in the yard almost the entire time, and let the house go to hell in a hand basket. It's a wreck, but our outdoor living space is coming along nicely. I've always preferred to be out in the yard than cooped up in the house. I'm seriously too lazy to limp to the bathtub.

We raked gravel back and forth and then positioned all these rocks. And then, to be really professional for the first time ever, I actually used a level to make sure it was all straight -- and level. So once I found just the right rock and put it into position, it wouldn't be level. So we had to flip it up, re-level the gravel to compensate and then check it again. And again, and then over again. Wish I would have used a level that time I was in a mud freakout after the first flood and we decided we could lay a stone sidewalk all by ourselves. It's still there and highly serviceable, but do be careful if arriving or departing in the dark or drunk, or in heels.

Did I mention I also carried most of all these rocks all by myself, especially after my husband had to move on to other parts of this project, like going to Home Depot and picking out boards. And then measuring and placing the boards on the new dock. You can see part of the new dock under construction in the picture above.

And then, we had enough gravel so I decided to lay some rock all around the base of the outdoor shower. That meant carting all the rocks I wanted to use across the yard and doing the whole process over again. But it was easier because I didn't use such big rocks. I did manage to moan and groan, and walk like an old woman, from one side of the yard to the other. A few times, I'd sit down to make the job easier and couldn't quite get back up.

Oh and I forgot this part: most of these rocks were once part of a walkway we put in four years ago so that Paige would have somewhere nice to walk down the aisle when she and Ruben got married in our yard, down by the water. It was a beautiful wedding. But the rocks turned out to be a hassle for our yardman to weed-eat and edge around. So that yardman, who just happens to be my husband, was all too happy to rip them out and help me move them down by the water. Some of these rocks were so big we had to really put on our German engineering hats and make us a homemade fulcrum with a board and a shovel.

Now imagine if you can, a firepit, with some comfy Adirondack chairs around it. I would love some other sort of chair, just because Adirondacks are the obvious choice, but I don't know what kind. Something cushy with a cushion would be great, but it would get dirty, and wet, and would probably blow into the river every time there was a storm. And I want them to be able to stay outside all the time, because I know myself and I wouldn't feel like traipsing them back and forth. Suggestions?

I don't exactly know what the firepit should look like yet, so I'm open to ideas on this as well. So far, my big idea is a bowl shaped pit, with some kind of custom design cut out along the top, to form a border. And then it potentially would sit in a low stand. Both these ideas will require a nice welder I don't yet know but will have to find.

To close, here's a picture of two of my helpers, Catherine and Bambi. Aren't they growing up to be big girls?

Peligro! This is not politically correct!

I was at work the other day, slowly wearing away all the cartilage in my shoulders. The stone masons and pool guys outside were toiling in the burning hot sun, having a heck of a time: laughing, smiling, joking amongst themselves. Landscaper guys were moving dirt and mulch all around. The basecoat painters were figuring out how to seal the ceilings of the porches when there was “muy wind.” The cabinet makers were working at a snail’s pace.

And that’s when I started thinking about this blog post. Really, my favorite thing about my job is that while I am transforming people’s spaces, I get to pray and think and ponder big issues. What a bonus. I am one lucky girl.

While I was antiquing the hand-troweled walls on a brand-new dream home to make them look like an old hacienda, I was struck by the differences between the different kinds of subcontractors I come across on the job. I spend a lot of time with subcontractors. Actually, I are one. I am always the only female on the job, and generally, I'm one of the only white ones, which brings me to the point of this post.

Did you know that there are big differences between white subcontractors and Mexican subcontractors? Actually, not all of them are Mexican. One of my favorite fellow painter friends was from Honduras. He figured out how to get himself all the way to Texas all by himself when he was just a boy, and has never seen his family since. He probably never will. It’s not like he can go for a visit on Christmas vacation.

Just in case any of you are getting over-heated because I’m using terms like girl, Mexican, white, etc., just save yourselves the indignation. I warned you this wouldn’t be politically correct. I'm a girl and I'm white. That's just the way it is. I do know all the politically-correct ways to speak and I do it because I'm educated and not racist and really wish we could “all just get along.” Bothering with all that PC speech is also quite tiring.

Getting back to the differences between Hispanic subcontractors and white subcontractors, I can tell you this. The Hispanic ones are just a whole lot more enjoyable to work with on the job. I admire the hell out of them. They work their butts off. They get to the job early and they work all day. But you know what I like best? They smile and laugh and joke with each other while they're doing it. In the blazing hot sun, putting in a pool they'll never get to swim in, they figure out how to have a good time.

I hate to break it to you that white subcontractors are not quite so enjoyable. Their example is not quite so inspiring. Generally, they tend to bitch and moan. It's so unattractive. Their helper is hurt. The job is complicated and hard. Wah wah wah. They get there about 10:30. Leave around 2 p.m. or 3 p.m. If I’m painting in front of a doorway, the white guy will expect me to move my ladder. There are at last three other doors he could use, but I’m in his way.

Yesterday with "muy wind,” the basecoat painter figured out how to seal all the porch ceilings anyway. A white guy would have said he had to come back next week when it wasn't so windy. You think I'm joking. Seriously, I'm not.

White contractors also like to complain about the Mexicans coming in and taking over the trades. And that's probably true. People like a bargain. They also like workers who work hard and show up and are somewhat thankful for the work. There’s another reason white guys are in the trades. Because they like to smoke dope and can’t pass the drug tests for other jobs. Oooooh, did she really write that? It’s one of my theories and I’m sticking to it. That’s the other reason they’re bitter. They smoke dope and have no ambition and barely get by. All of which is sure to make a man grouchy. Particularly when you work in fabulous homes you won’t ever come close to making your own.

One time, on the job with nice guy from Honduras, all the big fat white mediocre housekeeper could do was complain about Mexicans being in the house, as if they were spreading leprosy or something. I guess she thought since I was white I would agree with her. The Mexicans in the house were painting and remodeling. I couldn’t help but advise the homeowner. The next time I was there, a lovely Mexican woman, the wife of the main painter, had taken her place. It was so nice working there with her Christian music playing and all the bad energy from the big fat bitter white maid long gone. The house was also a lot cleaner.

On the job, Mexican subcontractors are more fun to work around. They like to sing. And it’s funny because they really think they can sing well even when they don’t. The white guys are generally grouchy and wishing they were somewhere else.

As I was pondering all this on the job the other day, it occurred to me how much I like to work. I actually like hard work and admire others who work hard (along with people who are smart, and food that is fresh.) I like to accomplish projects and get stuff done. It makes me feel good. I am fulfilled. I wondered how I got to be this way. How do you instill this kind of work ethic in a person, particularly your child? Why am I happy that I climbed a ladder for seven hours and can barely move around without wincing from my various old lady aches and pains? I could have a desk job sitting on my rear, but I don’t want one. Why do some admire sedentary executives in suits over masters of rock work?

The other reason the trades are so fulfilling is because you get a job and you do the job and the job gets finished. It's not like one of those jobs that just keeps on coming and you have no sense of completion. It makes me think of Newman the mailman on Seinfeld. When I finish for the day and limp on out to my truck, I can see what I've done. Usually I'm happy about it. Sometimes I'm all angst-ridden, not in love with it, generally tormented. It’s not all fun and games.

To conclude, I'll leave you with this. It's from the Bible. "The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God." -- Leviticus 19:34

Oh, and after Moses told everybody what God said in Leviticus, that other guy, Jesus, said “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

That ought to throw some gas on the fire. I’ll save my comparisons between the Israelites and Mexicans in the promised land for another day …