One day, some fine day, I got the idea that I wanted to try to strip the doors of our house.
My first victim? The basement door. This is the first door you see when you walk in through our back door. She was painted white some 5 years ago by professional painters, but it is certainly showing it's wear. Of course there's that lovely chip revealing a stunning shade of avocado green beneath. Then there's the stray chips & non-removable marks & what have you all along the bottom half. This baby has gotten some abuse over the years.
Enter my gloves, goggles & Citristrip.
Enter this lovely creature from the blue lagoon.
Enter me, thinking I'm insane for even thinking of this idea to begin with.
I'm going on the 3rd day of stripping this baby, and I'm realizing that stripping ain't easy. No siree. No wonder furniture refinishers charge such exorbitant prices--it's obviously worth every penny.
I'm pretty sure I've encountered at least 6 different shades of paint, which I guess, considering it's an original door from 1933, isn't really that many. Well, not many in the whole 1933 scheme of things, but certainly too many in the whole stripping-it-off scheme of things.
Here she is now, just about ready, just need to get her cleaned up. I intend to stain her this time.
Phew! One down and only 18 more to go. How's that for encouraging? Eek! (I'll most likely be 80 years old before I finish them all.)
By the way, since she & I have gotten so well acquainted as of late, she has thanked me immensely for allowing her to breath once again. We're BFFs now and I know you're all jealous of our friendship.
(Is it the humidity or the chemical strippers that have melted my brain? LOL)