Lately, you may have heard me mention a little “squirrel debacle” we’re having here at the Culverhouse. Maybe you’ve seen me post on Facebook about it. Perhaps you’ve seen a tweet concerning the little rodent. There’s a chance you’ve received a SnapChat of Tom hanging from a hole in the ceiling. Or you’ve come across an image on Instagram of a scarf wrapped around my head as we delve into yet another failed “stench search.” Or you’ve seen me in person and I’ve fallen to my knees in anguish in front of you, begging you to feel sorry for me because my entire house smells like roadkill on a hot July afternoon.
And, alas, as we embark on week 8 of the rotting carcass smell, it seems as if we’re no closer to eliminating the smell. Sunday night, several weeks ago, I hit a wall. Literally. Like, took a hammer and hit the wall until there was no wall left. Unfortunately, I’m faced only with a hefty repair bill and no decaying fluffy-tailed rat to show for it. Tom tried to stop me; he told me busting out a wall with a hammer probably wasn’t a good idea. But, honestly, what does he know? Isn’t he the one who assured me, as he tossed poison into the attic, that squirrels ALWAYS GO OUTSIDE TO DIE?
No, they don’t.
Sometimes, they die and slip into a hole behind your bathtub that would require you to remove a wall AND a bathtub. Sometimes, you do your best to see the silver lining in a smelly situation, and the silver lining here is that I have a pretty new wall and mudroom to show for it. Yeah, it stinks that my house stinks too, but man, oh, man, that bead-board looks good.
OH, HOW I WISH I HAD “BEFORE” PHOTOS.
I hired Mr. Ted Thames and his crew to come in and completely re-do my mudroom, which was honestly in shambles even before there was an entire all knocked out. Disturbing would be an understatement. The wall was hideously textured with plaster and was a boring shade of beige. The molding was crumbling off the floor as well as the ceiling and it had a door that led into my master bath – uh, weird… Who wants to see their bathroom from the kitchen?
We re-sheetrocked and closed in the door that led to the bathroom — that’s where the bench stands now. He also put up 6-foot beadboard along the entire interior and painted the wall just above a neutral gray. (If you haven’t noticed, we’ve also re-done my kitchen since I last posted — but that blogpost/reveal has to wait until the granite countertops are finished in a few weeks!! Squeeee!)
Mom and I found the bench at Scott’s. I immediately fell in love when I saw it and knew it’d be perfect with the colors I’d chosen for the kitchen & mudroom. In a perfect world, it’d be a bit shorter so as to not interfere with the cow painting, but it’s far from a perfect world, so I’ll take it. The cow and pig heads (Gertie & Lucy, respectively) came from Chichesters in Macon, as did the cow painting. I wanted to position the painting to where it appeared as if the cow was peeking around the corner at you. Who couldn’t be happy with that pretty girl peeking over at you while you cook?
I picked up a simple straw rug at TJ Maxx – I had to find something that was pretty but would withstand the wrath of Tom’s dirty boots every afternoon. The pillow is from Two Peaches Design — I’ve ordered approximately 7,000 of them for our wedding in August (we’re using them to accent the hay-bale “couches” that will be placed around the barn) and this one just happens to be holding down the fort in the mudroom for the time being.
Since my cactus is the only plant I have failed to kill, I put it in here for a burst of color. The photo in the frame is probably one of my favorite photos ever — those are my great-grandparents (who I never got to meet). My great-granddaddy is eating a watermelon and my great-grandma is laughing hysterically beside him. It’s a constant reminder to laugh at the little things.
On the opposite wall, I have my boots as well as several hooks to hold my purse and our jackets. Right by the door, a wicker basket from Target holds a few things we never use. Like an umbrella I got for free for spending a million dollars.
The moral of the story?
If you’re toying with the idea of re-doing a room in your house, but you’re not sure if you want to invest the time or money on it, just go ahead and bust a hole in your wall. That way, the decision is made for you.
The other moral of the story?
Squirrels don’t always go outside to die.