Fast forward to 2024: Matt decided it was time to trade Portland’s hip vibes for grandbaby giggles and family hugs. “Can you help me whip the house into shape to sell? Oh, and I’ve got a few projects lined up,” he said with a grin that promised more than a few. With funds on the tight side, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work—team DIY, style.

The list? Oh, just a casual to-do for the ages: strip and repaint every inch of exterior siding, repaint every room (except the kitchen—kudos to Matt for nailing the open cabinetry look), repair rotting wood, reglaze windows, skim foundation walls, tile the bathroom surround, hang some rogue sheetrock, repaint trims, prune trees, clean windows, repaint porch steps, and install new period lighting. I covered the materials and staging upfront, trusting the payoff would come with the sale. Spoiler: it did.

For a couple of months, we transformed the house with a mix of hustle and heart. The key lived in the mailbox, and we fell into a rhythm—coffee in the mornings, painting in different rooms, ladder chats under sunny skies. We talked about everything: kids, dreams, photography, design, menopause (yep, we went there), and the winding paths that got us here. Occasionally, one of Matt’s friends would swing by to help, and just like that, a new connection would spark.

By the time the last brushstroke dried, the house wasn’t just ready—it was glowing. So many thanks to Kelsey of Ampersand Home Staging for bringing the glitter dust. The market noticed our hard work: sold with multiple offers. Teamwork, sunshine, and a little elbow grease? That’s my kind of magic.