Welcome to the Old House Chic Blog! I’m Bernadette and I am so excited you’re here. This blog has been four years in the making after I almost fell off the balcony of an old, abandoned home.
I was fueled by the crazy idea of starting a creative antique, vintage and salvage business. This particular old abandoned home had a gorgeous cast metal balcony railing that I just had to have- no matter what it took. I had an impressive amount of tools and had used every one to hack away at the rusted screws that held the railing to the hot, tarred balcony roof. It would not budge. I was determined but it was, too. It was now a competition.
I sat staring at it and finally used the best tool of all- my foot. I gave it a boot and it swayed out, then sprung right back into place. I was getting frustrated at this point. I kicked it again. Nothing. Argh! Kick. Why! Kick. Won’t! Kick! You! Kick! Give! Kick! Up! Kick Kick Kick! I sat breathing hard with a crazed look I my eye- the fight was now on. Yes, I know. I’m talking about a metal railing.
At this point, I can honestly say I was mad. I think I mustered up everything that had ever made me mad in my entire life and kicked that railing with everything I was worth.
It was a beautifully comedic moment. My foot smashed straight through the railing, destroying part of it in the process, and then, and only then, did the railing finally give up…with my foot stuck in its teeth. Apparently, it was mad, too. I know. It’s a railing!
The railing gave a giant groan and began to separate from the roof, with my foot still caught in its snares- I swear it was saying, “If I go down, you go down, too, girl.” I felt my body being dragged to the edge and look over to see the overgrown ground below and my best friend’s little brother staring back at me with total fear. The poor thing was my hired help for the day. No, he didn’t come back. Can you blame him?!
The railing kept tipping towards the ground…and suddenly stopped. I’ll admit- I cussed a whole lot…and then I moved. Don’t think I didn’t start doing a panicked scramble to take full advantage of this new lease on life with two legs….and realized I was stuck. My rear end was glued to the tar of the roof which had melted in the hot summer sun. It was the tar that saved my rear.
I fell backwards, stared at the sky and thought: I wonder if there’s a blog out there featuring crazy, determined people obsessed with antique, vintage and salvaged anything and, please God, I hope that blog has a posting about how to get tar off your… rear end.
Yep, it went through my pants.
So, here is what you can expect from this blog: an obsession with all things antique, vintage and salvage, all the Do it Yourself, How To’s and Before and After projects you can stand, combined with laughter (lots of it), plenty of adventure, a good dose of inspiration, lots of encouragement and the leading authority on how to remove tar from really bad places.