Nothing if not a disco pirate, living the arrgh life with power tools

When you look at this living room, you don't assume I live in rural Nebraska, do you? Now that you know that, you assume my neighbors assume the worst. You'd be correct. There's one fucking good thing about Nebraska though, and it's all I can think of: I'm completely free of distractions. 80 hours spent on a coffee table and 80 more spent rhinestoning a vintage Mexican restaurant pirate ship? Good. Gives me something to do.

I'm debating reupholstering that gigantor Chesterfield-esque sectional. What do you think? I think part of it should be a crisp white canvas duck material, and the rest maybe a patch work of different stuff I have... 50s curtain fabric, a gold sequined material, maybe even cut apart some thrift store fur coats and add them in. What do you think? Everyone's telling me to leave it, because reupholstery work like this is so damn daunting, but what the hell. What's life for if not to run into a difficult project a little bit fearlessly, right?

Dining room evolution

Here's the house when I first moved in, just bare, sticky floors in the kitchen and dining room where golden carpet had reigned for 30 or so years. When I got here I was totally broke, so I found some carpet sample tiles at the local furniture store on the cheap and cut each to fit a square tile pattern... this took nearly 80 hours (shown below), but fate didn't have it in its plans I guess, because all that work got destroyed in a small accident (I'll say no more to protect the innocent), and eventually I just replaced the hard-won tile job with a simple tan carpet.



And below is the most recent dining room incarnation. It's definitely a little more traditional than Panton chairs and a 50s chrome table, but I was able to keep it funky by painting the cabinets and lining the interiors with reclaimed lumber. Inside each are mostly thrift store finds, a rolling pin hanging rack I made, and two antique windows a contractor friend was replacing and let me have. Above, the 'Egg Room' sign was formerly a part of my parents' horse barn, which was for years a chicken hatchery before we moved in.