Home Renovations Part 1: Our Story, Horrors, Costs, & More

Building a house isn't for the weak. Here's a full breakdown on the last 1.5 years of renovating our desert home.

The home is all her glory when we first purchased it, 2021.

Cultivating equal parts comfort, aesthetics, and utility is a challenging act I long to master. 

We coined our abode "Juniper." Despite being our neighborhood name, the term mirrors our love for trees and our family bloodline's long history of orchard farming. My father's unkept acre lot in the middle of town has served me thousands of ripe citrus, pecans, peaches, and tree trunks for furniture. At the same time, Reyce's grandpa hand-built his family home back when purchasing land was easier than buying a tuxedo.

Big yards. Hidden nooks. Bunnies, ladybugs, and owls. A lush, breathing microbiome of its own feat. And while I remember my father's grass was hardly kept neat in his suburban corridor, I'll never forget the memories I had laying in those long strands counting sheep in the clouds.

Reyce and I undoubtedly acquired the same gene for craftmanship and slow living.

Gutted to the studs.

Unsurprisingly, one of the pandemic's many congealed effects was an obliterated housing market — Arizona's being particularly troublesome. Even with hefty savings and a convincing offer, one might still be outbid by some mouthbreathing trust-fund baby from California (or worse, Chicago). With prices rising by the day and affordable options limited to the outskirts of the valley, the state's housing crisis has become undeniably cancerous.

...and for whatever reason, Reyce and I felt compelled to jump head first.

For months, we scoured the market in a few of our favorite zip codes. Most homes were either out of our budget or in a neighborhood that fell short. It's a game of bargaining, determination, patience, willpower, and insanity. If you know — you know.

Once Reyce's grandfather said he was selling his rental property just down the street for extra cash, we knew we had to act immediately. With the cash savings we mustered over the last four years of living in his grandpa's backyard loft, we had the financial means to make it work. It's the perfect ranch-style home near a bustling historic downtown area that only increases in price. No family discount, mind you. His grandpa needed the money, and we played fair. 

We bought the Juniper home, sight unseen, at the appraisal price just after we tied the knot in October 2021. Bring out the champagne, baby!

Closing on the property was a HUGE sigh of relief, but it was a mere lobby room waiting for the actual Hunger Games to begin.

When I stepped into Juniper the day we officially signed the papers, I couldn't breathe- not from awe, but from contempt.

I stepped into our living room, catching virgin sights of its interior for the first time, and nearly choked. The smell was god awful; the walls were black, and the floor was scuffed with concerning burn marks and skeletal cockroach coatings. Every window was busted and stitched together with duct tape and tinfoil; kitchen cabinets were stained from crockpots in the 90s.

To put it bluntly — it was f*cking disgusting.

I didn't realize the sheer magnitude of this project. Suddenly, my Pinterest boards slid to the back burner. This place needed much work before I could even think of couches, picture frames, or backsplash. We had to tear this place open and entirely rebuild it from the studs, a starting point I hoped to avoid.

We gutted the entire house as soon as we were able. We phoned a junk removal service to help haul the cabinets and sinks away, and we tore into those walls with brute force and zero regrets.

First, it was the HVAC system replacement for optimal climate control. Then, it was a plumbing overhaul, wall teardowns, flipping laundry room locations, full electrical rewires, and replacing windows, doors, and closet openings.

Not a single panel of this house was left untouched, quite literally.

The "Before"

If there's one rule of thumb in anything, especially house renovations, it's this: wait to cross something off until it's complete. It isn't done if it isn't done. Listopia maniacs (myself included) love to scratch off the to-do index, consequently writing off the final step prematurely.

It was one step forward and two back during the initial 12 months. Various opinions and waiting periods between material orders would feel nauseating, dreadful, and miserable. Renovations are often costly and time-consuming no matter the project's size; thoughts shift in progress, no two quotes are the same, and materials run out two-thirds of the way. The heartache I'd stomach from hearing a contractor telling us something was wrong, broken, or unfeasible still permeates physical trauma. HGTV doesn't broadcast those moments on prime-time TV, do they?

The place was a construction zone for over 13 months before we could finally spend the night. It was tiring. Exhilarating. A true milestone no matter the battle.

Our Vision

‘SPANISH REVIVAL MEETS SOUTHWEST ARBORETUM’

Our remodeling vision is simple yet intuitive. We're not playing off Scandinavian luxury or trendy cottage-core decoration patterns but honoring our love for gardening in the Sonoran desert and building a dwelling to fit our natural habitat.

Functional, yet pleasing to the eye. Hearty enough for the sliding doors to leave open in the Springtime. Warm colors, fresh linen, and natural neutrals that mirror our motherland.

Every new piece we buy has been intentionally curated to fit Juniper's entire motif. Our front door was hand-built by a gentleman in Turkey, our bold master shower tile is from Madrid, and our bed sheets come from an organic linen farm in Australia. Our office's large Southwestern armoire was picked up from Stardust Building Supplies, a local consignment shop, for just $30. Our prized teapots, ceramics, and crystal glassware are from local antique bazaars.

Move-In Time

Come January 2023, it was time to move in officially. The drywall was smoothly painted, the master bathroom was officially hooked, and our concrete floors were brushed with a final polish — VOILA!

On the flip side, our exterior stucco must still be applied, and there must still be interior doors, lights, curtains, and kitchen finishes. I wouldn't consider it done by any means; it’s likely not viable for a hypothetical family to move in after their Zillow closing date, but we couldn't care less. She is all ours! She is fresh, clean, and an entirely blank slate, ready for new memories and curated furniture. 

I left for a week-long work trip right before we moved our bed, toiletries, and TV (I often find myself traveling during the most inopportune times). It wasn't until afterward that Reyce and I embraced our newfound luxury. We bathed together, ordered pizza, and cuddled on the couch with our dogs, watching Natasha Lyonne's Pokerface. I would fall asleep early, like I always do, and listen to the sound of Minecraft's block builds as he giggles with our best friends over the headphones.

It's a funny thing: to wake up one morning and realize you're living an identical fantasy you dreamed of years prior. And you can't help but want to swallow that chuckle in the throat, knowing what a day's schedule it took to get there. If today's Natalie told 3-years-ago-Natalie the pain and challenges it would bear to acquire a plot of land with her name on it — adorned with a terracotta tiled bathroom, dozens of fruit trees, and 8-foot glass doors for honeycombed morning light — would she still go through with it?

She would — 100%.