Someone, or ones, stole my credit card info and attempted to ship $2,300 worth of Home Depot shite to Nevada.
(I don’t live in Nevada)
It’s a bit disconcerting to think that it might be possible that they knew I was working on a house, and thus I might not notice.
But they don’t know me that well.
I don’t shop there because of their right-winged evil overlord.
I’d post a warning about where my card got hacked, but it’s the same one I’ve had for over a decade of online shopping and automatic bill payments, so it could have been a security breach in one of a hundred or more websites and utility companies. Well, at least not right-wing fundraiser sites, or skanky porn, or games, or psychics, or…
But thankfully the evil corporate anti-everything good about life and humans credit card company had my back, so someone/s in Nevada didn’t get their new what… deluxe chainsaw? big-ass grill? swirly tub? giant refrigerator? or lots and lots and lots of nails?
I love that we’ve got an awesome independent lumber yard, hardware store, and green building supplier in our town (and that also probably proves extreme gentrification) but I can’t always afford their stuff, or rather, none of them stocks the really cheap stuff.
(If my credit card thief shopped at one of those stores he just might have gotten away with it.)
But sometimes cheap is okay and historically accurate.
So I did our half-bath floor in a pinwheel mosaic tile from the other big box home improvement store.
Though the floor we removed was already tile, it was ugly – creepy 1970s van stripes – and broken in places (thank you original owner for installing tile on thin-ass plywood, but at least it was easy to remove) and underneath was un-salvageable linoleum. We had been prepared to live with the room for a few years though, and it was the lowest priority to re-do, but then the toilet broke inexplicably, and it made sense to go ahead and replace the floor before we put in a new shitter.
(bathroom before when we first looked at the house – the previous owners left out their crap).
We reused the old vanity but gave it a fresh coat of paint, replaced the semi-non-functioning faucet, and replaced the fake wood triptych-mirrored medicine cabinet with a new one that is utterly cheap, but made in the USA, so it will do well enough.
We still need to install said medicine cabinet, add the towel and TP holders, paint some more, attach the floor trim, hang some art, sew or knit some curtains, and add a plant or something.
Along with the vintage-looking tile, the peach paint* throws the whole thing back to the 1950s, so hopefully the house feels good about it.
And it glows.
*Paint is Mythic brand and I love it – not stinky and well-priced for non-toxic paint – color is Benjamin Moore’s “Hathaway Peach.” Tile is American Olean. (I didn’t get anything to endorse this stuff, but I’ll gladly take some free paint or coupons if offered…). The former ugly but perfectly functional medicine cabinet goes to Habitat for Humanity, and the plumber took the old faucet and toilet for recycling (as least that’s what he said he’d do with it…) so it was a remodel with only one bag of trash.
ASTITCHMATISM 