Before the Becoming

There’s a moment in every home renovation where excitement meets exhaustion and you ask yourself, “What in the world have I done?” For me, that moment didn’t hit until I finally crawled into bed that first night—sore and completely worn out, wondering if I had, in fact, lost my ever-loving mind. This was the very beginning, the Before the Becoming—the messy middle that hadn’t even started to make sense yet—just grit, grace, and a whole lot of holy chaos.

I’d dreamed about this house for so long — its storybook rooflines, the original vinyl and wood-clad windows, the original hardwood floors, the promise of what could be — but reality hits different when you’re standing in the dining room surrounded by towers of furniture and boxes labeled “miscellaneous” (which translates to I have no earthly idea what’s in here), and the enormity of the project begins to slowly sink in.

I started out labeling everything with a list of what was mostly inside, but after what seemed like the thousandth box, I was lucky to just jot down what room it went in.

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Before The Move And Formula 409

A few days before move-in, I couldn’t wait any longer — I went over for one last walk-through before closing, mostly to dream a little and see what I could do about the existing wood floors. I figured I’d test a small spot to see if I could clean them up enough to hold off on refinishing for a while. Refinishing hardwoods is expensive, and the dollar signs were starting to ding like a group text thread on fire (IYKYK).

So there I was, on my hands and knees with nothing but a bottle of 409, a scrub brush, and my Sinatra and Bublé playlist. I started with a single test patch (I seriously was just going to do a little test just to see), and before I knew it, I had cleaned the entire living room, kitchen, and foyer. By the end of the night — and by “end of the night,” I mean 2:00 a.m. — I was convinced I’d permanently lost the use of my hands. But oh, the shine! Those floors gleamed like new. They were so pretty and shiny I was just plain giddy.

Bringing the Floors Back to Life

Then, because my curiosity seems to run non-stop, I picked up a bottle of Weiman’s Hardwood Floor Cleaner & Finisher from Home Depot to see if it would make a difference. Wowza, did it ever. It brought those old hardwoods back to life — clean, glossy, and full of character. Turns out all they needed was a little TLC (and a lot of 409).

Since I got the last bottle Home Depot had, I went ahead and ordered two more bottles from Amazon because I was hooked and I still had the kitchen, breakfast and dining room left to do. If you’re curious, here’s the one I used:
👉 Weiman Hardwood Floor Polish on Amazon (non-affiliate link)

I kinda love them just the way they are… at least for now.

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The Must-Fix List: Starting with the Foundation

Of course, some things just couldn’t wait. The house needed foundation work right out of the gate (because of course it did). The roof and gutters were next — or rather, the lack of gutters, which was causing some moisture issues. Then came fixing a few problem spots, rehanging doors that swung the wrong way (seriously, why?), and a temporary patch job on the driveway just so I could get into the garage… and, perhaps more importantly, back out.

Before move-in, my friend John came over with a sledgehammer and took on the job of breaking down the six-inch cliff at the edge of the driveway and removing the giant root that had been keeping my car from making it into the garage. He hammered it out by hand, bless his heart (check out the before-and-after photos below). The goal wasn’t pretty — just purely functional at this point — and it worked perfectly.

Honestly, I’d rather spend that $3,000–$5,000 it would cost to replace the driveway on something… well, pretty and blingy. Since the driveway is in the back of the house just off of an alleyway, no one will be able to see it anyway.

Starting with the foundation wasn’t glamorous, but it mattered. Because if the base isn’t solid, nothing built on top of it will ever be sturdy — in houses or in life.

I’m reminded of what God inspired Matthew to write in Matthew 7:24–25 — that even when “the rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock.”

A solid foundation matters — in homes, in faith, in everything.

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The First-Week Surprises — Leaks, Doors & the Case of the Five Toilets

About a week after move-in, the real fun began. I knew it was time to take care of the water stains on the ceiling upstairs as well as the laundry-room ceiling below — courtesy of a roof in desperate need of repair and a bathtub drain that had been quietly leaking for who knows how long. Between that and a few other plumbing surprises, I decided to take care of several things at once: repair the ceilings, fix the leaky drain, and finally rehang those stubborn doors — the ones that swung right into the toilet. I say, “I” but what I really mean is Marcus, my contractor. There’s a lot I can do myself but some things I need to leave to the professionals.

Speaking of door swings — I just don’t understand why some builders don’t think about door swings. Who looks at two doors that open into each other — or worse, into a toilet — and thinks, Yep, I like that, that’ll work just fine!

Five Toilets, Four Bathrooms, and One Big Mystery.

And then there were the toilets. Some were beyond saving, and the ones that were still working were old, low to the ground, and used far more water than modern designs. So I decided to go ahead and replace them all at once with taller, water-efficient models that actually feel, well… civilized.

A few days later, I stepped out onto the back deck with my morning coffee and stopped in my tracks. There in one corner was a small crowd of five old toilets grouped together like a porcelain crime scene — slightly tragic, a lot trashy, and a little bit hilarious (what must the neighbors think? 😂).

Here’s the thing: this house only has three and a half bathrooms. I sat there for a good while, staring, counting, and recounting because surely I was mistaken.
One… two… three… four…
……five?

I actually went back inside and recounted bathrooms, but no — still just four bathrooms. Somehow, four new toilets went in, but five old ones came out. To this day, I have no idea where the fifth one came from. It’s still a mystery… but honestly, it makes me laugh every time I think about it.

Once the leaks were repaired, the ceilings patched, and the plumbing mysteries handled, it was time to turn my attention to the chaos inside.

The Great Furniture Tetris

In my mind, I had this genius plan: I’d stack and store all the big furniture in the breakfast room and dining room (renovating the kitchen is going to be one of the last things I do) so I could go ahead and park my car in the garage. Easy enough, right? My ex-husband used to say, “It’ll take four times as long and cost four times as much as you think.” I used to laugh when he said that. He wasn’t wrong. It turns out there was no way all my furniture was going to fit. So, no — I won’t be parking in the garage anytime soon.

Camping Out…Indoors

Until the downstairs master is finished, I’m camping out in one of the upstairs bedrooms. It’s cozy in a “glamping-meets-construction-zone” sort of way…minus the glam. That first night, as I finally settled in, I heard something outside the window — a deep, soft whoo-hoo echoing through the trees.

Turns out, I have a great horned owl nesting in one of the sweetgum trees right outside my window. I could hear him gently calling to his mate, and somewhere off in the distance, her faint response drifted back. Somehow, that felt like a blessing — one of those unexpected little gifts that remind you you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Even in the middle of the chaos, there’s something wonderful about it — like the house and I are getting to know each other one room at a time. Every beam, every creak, every patch of sunlight through the old windows feels like an invitation: We’re just getting started.

Equal parts exhausted and exhilarated… feeling all warm and happy and giddy inside.

The Becoming Continues

I know there’s still a long road ahead — but I’m not in a hurry. I want to take my time, to enjoy each discovery, each project, each quiet morning in this old house as she finds her new rhythm. The only one adding pressure or deadlines is me, and I’m learning to let that go.

There’s so much more to come, and I can’t wait to show you some truly fabulous before-and-afters (and maybe a few “what was I thinking?” moments along the way).

Stay tuned — the best part of Becoming Delta is just getting started.

After all, it’s all about embracing the becoming — and that’s precisely what this blog is all about.
Join me as we learn to embrace the becoming together.

This post is part of my Before the Becoming series — the chapter where I scrub floors, question my sanity, and officially begin this Tudor home adventure.