Tear down the Walls!

Redoing my Tiny House Facade.

April 14, 2019

Painting outdoor facade, creative painting, trees on the wall
If you need to paint the shite - do it right!

"Of course, you will still have to paint the facade some day" says the owner of the tiny home on the day of my first viewing.

"Yes," I reply laxly, already headlessly in love with the house. Then I throw a glance full of devastating disrespect at the scratchy wooden wall. I'll put a pot of paint on it and it'll work.
Then I sign the contracts at the beginning of January, renovate the entire interior completely by myself in 16 days (and nights...), die in the hospital for a while and go on a big Road Trip across Europe. When I return in mid-March, I realize that I have exactly six weeks left to take care of the outdoor facade before I will fly to the USA all summer long. I look at the wood more closely for the first time. It's old, pealed off, defenceless to the weather and looks like goat shite.

 

"You really should paint that!" a neighbor yells from his bike while he is driving by. I want to throw a banana peel in his way.

Then I go in, get one of the folding rules that I haven't broken yet, and fold it apart in the worng way. I ram it into the ground of the garden and lean it against the wall, which is of course much higher than the stupid rule. The neighbor is coming back. "Haha, do you still have a folding rule?" he shouts. Yes - and shortly afterwards also a new large construction site. Here comes Mission Paintng the Outdoor Facade! With a crooked ladder, etching paint and the unconditional will to transform my Tiny House optically into a real American Cabin!

1000 Square Feet of rotten Wood

Tiny Home Improvement, tiny living, alternative lifestyle
Measuring and checking out the house
Done! I scribble down the last number on the paper and sweat like a beaver. Even back then in school I always got nausea from numbers. So I tell my boyfriend and whine a bit about it. He is super sweet and creates an Excel spreadsheet that calculates the square feet for me. 1000. One thousand square feet of surface does my house have. Plus-minus a couple of ruler misalignments where I rather waved around in the air with the stick inaccurately than really measuring something.
I'm going to the hardware store. "I need paint for shabby wood," I say.
The young guy is staring at me. I show him photos of the dying facade on my phone so he finally gets an idea. And me some paint pots.
"I'd paint that with a protective layer first and then put the new paint on," he explains. That's what I was expecting. Also that I have to shred my credit card again. But my Tiny Home is my dream house and refuge - it's okay to invest some money!

"Everything has to be sanded down first!"

Sanding wood, facade, restoring a wooden facade, tiny house
The sanding machine is ready

"Of course everything has to be sanded down first," he says by the way, as if I had asked if the hot chocolate is also available with cream.

"Everything?" I ask while a heat wave grabs me.

"Yes, everything," he replies and walks away.

"Can I rent a machine for that?" I yell after him hoarsely. I slightly remember sanding my pallet table by hand at half past one at night and my mobile phone not recognizing my fingerprint afterwards.

"Yeah, back in the building materials department. There's rental equipment."

I get a little hemorrhage. Then I turn around and walk towards the hall. Okay. We have to sand the entire front. We'll figure that out. It may take one day. Sort of.


The guy in the department is showing me a tiny sanding machine.

"I do have a whole house!" I protest.

"Well, then you'll have to cross the street, there's the construction machinery store. They also lend large equipment."

So I'm moving my ass into the rival firm. There are shovel-chain-widget monsters already decorating the entrance for which one certainly needs driving licence class F for "fat".

Five minutes later I reserved a big sanding machine. For Friday, 7 in the morning. We don't want to file fingernails here!

Full Power for Sanding and a Surprise for the DIY Store

Sanded wood facade, home improvements, DIY
Facade is sanded - looks great. Not.
It's Friday. 7 in the morning. I don't wanna do this shit. I hope that machine isn't so noisy. Cause I'm not awake at all.
"You wanna do this in ONE day?" the guy in the shed laughs. "Plan on three days. I'm just saying so."
I give him the bird inside of me and drive back to the house.
At first my ears fall off, then my arms and finally also a few crumbs of wood. I only take a short break and bite in a sandwich for a few minutes. Then I die again straightly on a high ladder, which leans only slightly against the 11 feet high roof ridge, while I throttle myself with the extension cable.
After six hours, I'm done. With everything. I drive back to the machine rental shed at 4 pm and slam the sander on the guy's table. "It's done. Entirely" I say. He's staring at the machine. I'm putting a big pile of used paper next to it. He starts to believe me. Then I drive 60 miles to Cologne for an evening appointment, where I have a job as a photographer. As they always say: Business befpre pleasure.

Poison for the ones who killed Mom and Dad

Painting wood, wooden cabin, tiny living, DIY, lonelyroadlover
Some wood stain against the poop-color

Wood stain. Protective color. I drop the big bucket on the meadow. Dark brown. I want to paint the entire house dark brown. Above all the dog-poop-ocher at the annex is strongly getting on my nerves. Probably the previous owners were blind. Or just had a terrible taste. When I open Pandora's can, deadly etching stench comes out. I get a lung insufficiency for some seconds and then I start painting courageously.

"That's a job for someone who killed his father and mother," my neighbour yells motivatingly.

"Yes," I say cheerfully, while one leg of the ladder slides straight into the gravel and I sprinkle the poison all over my face. "I'm freaking out with joy!"


But somehow I realize that I'm actually really freaking out enormously with joy. The sanding action only had the effect that my house looked even more like a pyre. So with the paint finally some visible improvement shows up. I also totally love DIY and everything I can do to improve and design my Tiny Home and make it into my dream refuge. It's my little, big heart project.

After only eight hours I am finished and have glazed the complete house including the roof ridge once. My arms fall off, my neck rolls up and I have three and a half fingernails left - again. But there is only one feeling that describes everything: awesomeness!

A wooden Cabin with blue Frames

Taping, home improvement, lonelyroadlover
Taping and preparing - yeah, man.
"This is a really lovely color for our house!" my boyfriend diagnoses by looking at the photos. "In the Uited States we call it Summer Sky Blue."
I'm looking at the paint pot. "It actually says Pigeon Blue here," I say dryly. That's Germany.
But the tone in which I want to paint all the window frames and shutters as well as the door and the old bench really appealed to me because it looks like heaven. I want a wooded house with a view into the clouds to dream and let fantasy run wild.
But then all my dreams and picturesque visions are suddenly gone, because I realize that I have to tape all the frames first. After two minutes the roll is used up. I throw the empty cardboard thing across the garden, swear and drive to the hardware store again. This crap takes almost as long as sanding down the entire facade. I think again of the people who killed father and mother. Where are they if you need them badly?
After I'm done, I remember that I have to apply white insulating primer before it really gets colorful. I'm vomiting. After painting every frame with it and scrubbing the paint pot into the anteroom in the evening, I look at the label. "The insulating primer only insulates properly when it is applied twice". I'm on the verge of just throwing away the insulating primer and bricking up the windows. Then I eat a ton of ice cream right from the pack on the floor in front of the freezer.

Trees inspired by the Wilderness of Wyoming

Window frames, design, cabin, wooden house, DIY
Finally done - the annoying blinds!
After spending another twenty years of my life on the rotten ladder painting the stubborn blinds and spilling blue paint on the already brown facade, everything is finally done. I step back and look at the result. Actually, I wanted to paint the entire house chocolate brown. But now I like the rugged look of the semi-transparent glaze already quite well. Change of plans. I'll just glaze it over again with a transparent layer and leave it as it is. A little rough, a little wild, a little honest.
When I wake up at four in the morning for no reason, I have the spontaneous idea to paint trees on the facade. No, not right now in the dark! But the next day I grab my headphones, run through my Yellowstone Playlist and throw fir trees at the facade free hand. I feel deeply connected to the house. I belong here. For the first time in my life I feel home somewhere in Germany. I created something with my own hands. All of this. Nothing is just rented, accepted, tolerated. Nothing is obtained by fraud and nobody helped me. Not because there wasn't anyone, but because I wanted it that way. It's as if I've pulled out a tree and now I'm carrying it in front of me as a symbol of strenght.
I know it's still two weeks before I fly to my other home. Where the houses really look like my Tiny Home. Wyoming, USA. I throw myself happily into the wet grass and am glad that life is so nuts.
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