Last week, I wrote about our bare walls. I called them “nekkid,” which perhaps is a bit harsh, but the truth’s the truth, right? Well, we are trying to help our poor walls be a little more, um, lady like.
We found our home’s original blueprints and took them to a local frame shop. First, a word on the blueprints. The oldest were quite obviously used. With paint splotches and smears and deep creases, these were not created for aesthetic purposes. The pencil markings all over them also gives away the fact that they were used for note taking and brainstorming. Some people would probably not like the used look, but we think it’s great. As a general rule, we favor authentic and lived-in over shiny and pristine. Also, we weren’t framing art but history–okay, it’s after 5:00, and, therefore, too late for smarty-pants talk. Basically, we were super excited to find a piece of our house that long pre-existed us but that is now a part of us. You know, that whole thing about our blog name.
So back to the blueprints. The oldest are dated 1950, and our house was built in 1956 (we think; there’s a little debate about 1956 or 1957, but most signs point to 1956). Anyway, that’s six years of going back and forth over plans, and the many Veterans Administration stamps prove that these prints did just that. The back of the prints were full of VA stamps verifying receipt. Why does this matter, well for one, we now know that our home’s first owner (and only other than us) was a WWII veteran, which makes me think of my grandparents and what type of life the previous owner was returning to after war. I can get nostalgic in a flash, and these stamps almost sent me over the edge. If you want a brief history of the VA home loan’s beginning, check out this short article.
So, we had one set of prints dated 1950. And one not dated (for the addition). Grrr. Luckily, with the blueprints, we were left a set of pictures of the addition being built, and those are dated. Whew. My investigative self just might have exploded otherwise. The pictures are dated 1991, meaning the blueprint was probably drawn up in 1989 or 1990. The 1950′s prints are the old-timey kind on heavy blue paper with white lines. The 1989-ish print is on light-weight white paper with purple lines. Both appear to be done in some sort of carbon-copy way.
I suppose that’s enough blabbing, though. We hung those suckers! Truth be told, they were propped for three days. You know my problem with propping, right?
Just in case you’re a newbie to hanging things correctly (as opposed to just throwing up a nail and dangling the frame from it–my usual MO), here’s how we did it.
First, Ed held up the frame, so I could see where I liked it. Then I used a pencil to make a mark where the corner was.
Next, Ed measured the length of the frame, and we marked the half-way point on the wall. Then, we measured the distance from the top of the frame to the wire. Then, Ed nailed in the frame hook about an inch higher (to account for the size of the hook).
Then, we put it up on the wall and straightened.
Easy peasy (Ed hates that phrase. I love it.). Here’s what the wall looked like before (completely naked).
And here’s what she looks like now (from a different angle, due to a glare).
Not a lady yet, more like a woman who just got a boob job wearing a string bikini. Her skin (aka, the wall) is bustin’ out all over the place, but at least her nipples are covered. Did you just cringe? So sorry. We’re workin’ on it. Once we fill in around the frame, she’ll be ready for high tea with the Queen. Or at least a mint julep at the Derby.
We decided to hang the 1950s print in the den (aka, the paneling room) because we thought it fit the vintage feel of the room. We hung the addition’s print, appropriately, in the addition. Two rooms on their way to recovery.
Oh, and if you’re into numbers and such, you can check out the pricing info here.
What’s going up on your walls? Anyone else found their blueprints and had them framed?
