Megapost: The 2026 Living Room Update at House 173

Living Room

Twenty-Two Years Later, the Living Room Gets a New Look

What started as a simple plan to remove 22-year-old wallpaper became a full living-room refresh with plaster repairs, electrical updates, caulking, countless paint samples and one completely unexpected color choice.

Previous Remodel: 2004
Updated: 2026
Project: Wallpaper Removal, Plaster Repair, Electrical Updates & Paint

There are rooms in a house that seem to change constantly.

Furniture moves. Pictures come and go. Something gets painted, then painted again. Twenty years later you can barely remember what the room looked like before.

And then there are rooms like the living room at House 173.

For more than two decades, this room remained remarkably consistent.

Back in 2004 we fell hard for the Tuscan look that seemed to be everywhere at the time; warm colors, earth tones, darker rooms, rich patterns; and we found a wallpaper called Wallquest Sunny Tuscany that seemed absolutely perfect.

So up it went, and there it stayed...

For twenty-two years.

And you know what?  I don't regret it for a second.

2026 Living Room Update Original Posts
∙ Part 1: Stripping Away Twenty Years
∙ Part 2: Prep Work That Makes the Difference
∙ Part 3: The Color We Never Saw Coming
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Even further back! 2004 Living Room Redux

The living room was warm, cozy and comfortable. It suited us. It suited the house. It became the backdrop for thousands of ordinary days here at 173.

Dogs slept in there.
Christmases happened in there.
Books were read.
Movies were watched.
Family came and went.
Life happened.

But houses evolve because the people living in them evolve.

Eventually we started noticing that the wallpaper seams were showing their age. At first it was one of those things you could ignore if you weren't really looking.

Then not looking became harder.

Finally, sometime in early 2026, we admitted the obvious:

It was time.

And thus began what we confidently assumed would be a relatively simple living room update.

Take down the wallpaper.
Patch a few things.
Paint.
Done.

Ha!

Let's get into it.

The Living Room Before the Living Room Update

Before tearing anything apart, it seems only fair to give the old room its due.

The Sunny Tuscany wallpaper went up in 2004 and created exactly the room we wanted at the time.

It was warm.

A little dark, maybe.

Definitely cozy.

The colors worked beautifully with the old woodwork at 173, and for a long time I couldn't really imagine the room without it.

Looking back from 2026, it's easy to say the Tuscan decorating craze was very early-2000s.

Because it was.

But I don't believe in making fun of old decorating choices merely because styles changed.

We loved that room.

It served us beautifully for more than twenty years.

That's a pretty good run for wallpaper.

And besides...

Twenty years from now somebody will probably look at whatever we're doing today and say:

Good grief, what were they thinking?

So let's remain humble.

Part 1: Stripping Away Twenty Years

The first step was obvious.

Everything had to come out.

Well...almost everything.

Furniture migrated to the front porch and dining room until, for only about the second time since we've owned 173, the living room actually echoed.

There's something strange about seeing a familiar room empty.

Without the furniture, books, lamps, rugs and all the little things that accumulate over decades, it almost stops feeling like part of the house.

It becomes... a box.

A box with wallpaper that needed to come down.

So we got stripping.

The First Brilliant Plan

I went into wallpaper removal with what seemed like a perfectly reasonable method.

Score the wallpaper.
Spray wallpaper remover.
Wait.
Scrape.
Repeat as necessary.
Easy.

It wasn't easy.

The first wall became an exercise in:

Score.
Spray.
Wait.
Scrape a little.
Spray again.
Wait some more.
Question life choices.
Scrape another four inches.
Repeat.

By the end of the first day's work, we'd barely finished one wall.

This was going to be a long project.

Then the Internet Actually Helped

At some point, part desperation, part procrastination, I started watching videos about wallpaper removal.

And I came across a much simpler method.

Instead of perforating everything and soaking through the finished surface, first use a razor scraper to separate and remove the decorative outer layer of paper.

Then wet the backing.
So we tried it.
And holy cats.

The difference was remarkable.

What had taken hours on the first wall suddenly became manageable on the others.

Once the decorative layer was gone, plain water and a sponge softened the remaining paper and adhesive enough that it could be scrubbed away without nearly as much drama.

No muss.
No fuss.

Okay...

considerably less muss and fuss.

Let's not oversell this.

Removing twenty-two-year-old wallpaper still isn't how I'd choose to spend a vacation.

But once we figured out what worked for this wallpaper and these walls, the whole project became much less intimidating.

And, naturally, Charlie supervised.

Make good decisions, Charlie.

By the time the paper was finally gone, the living room looked less like a room and more like something awaiting archaeological analysis.

Which meant the fun part was over.

Now came the important part.

Part 2: The Work Nobody Notices

One of the biggest things I've learned after nearly three decades of working on House 173 is that a good paint job has remarkably little to do with painting.

The rolling part?
That's easy.

It's everything you do before opening the paint can that separates:

Hey, that looks pretty good!

from:

Why does that crack look even worse now?

So with the wallpaper gone, we started dealing with what twenty-two years of wallpaper had politely concealed.

And remember...
173 was built in 1927.

These aren't flawless modern drywall panels.

They're old plaster-and-lath walls that have spent nearly a century doing what old plaster walls do.

Cracking a little.
Moving a little.
Getting nailed into.
Getting patched.
Getting nailed into again.

No need to pretend otherwise.

Repair the Walls We Actually Have

Every obvious crack got addressed.

Small holes got filled.

Old picture-hanger locations disappeared.

Mystery dents and divots accumulated over generations were patched.

Some were nothing.

Others required a little excavation first so the new patching material would actually have something solid to grab.

And because every professional plasterer owns one...
I discovered that an old-fashioned can opener made a pretty handy little tool for opening cracks enough to accept repair material.

I'm sure that's somewhere in the manufacturer's instructions.

Probably.

When the repairs were finally sanded, the walls weren't magically transformed into new construction.  That wasn't the goal.

They were solid, and smooth where they needed to be.  And still honest enough to belong in a 99-year-old house.

That's good enough for me.

While We're Here...

Three dangerous words in home improvement:

While we're here...

Because once a room is emptied, the wall plates are removed and everything is accessible, you start noticing little things that would be incredibly annoying to deal with later.

In our case?

Electrical outlets.

Some of the living room receptacles were old and ungrounded.

So while everything was already apart...

out they came.

Not glamorous.

Nobody coming into the finished room will ever exclaim:

George! Magnificent receptacles!

But they're grounded.
They're updated.
They're done.

Sometimes the best improvements are the ones nobody notices.

Caulk: The Quiet Hero

Then came caulk.

There were little gaps where walls met trim.
Baseboards had separated slightly from plaster.
Door casings had small shadows around their edges.

Nothing dramatic.

Just decades of tiny movements that made the room subtly feel older.

So around we went.

Baseboards.
Door frames.
Trim.

Anywhere there was an appropriate little gap that needed closing.

And this is where caulk performs its magic.

Nobody looks at a finished room and says:

That's some exceptional caulk you've got there.

But take away those dark little lines, shadows and gaps and suddenly the whole room feels tighter.

Cleaner.
More finished.

Before a drop of paint goes on.

And Then Came the Paint Samples

While all this repair work was happening, another project was quietly taking over the living room.

Paint samples... lots of paint samples.

Our original plan was simple enough.

Beige.

A newer beige, mind you.

Not yellow beige.
Not builder beige.

Something warm, updated, neutral, and sympathetic to all the beautiful old woodwork.

So we tried warm beiges.

Greiges.
Creams.
Taupes.

Colors immediately adjacent to those colors.

Colors that looked wonderful on paint chips and awful once they hit the wall.

Colors that looked fantastic at 9:00 in the morning and inexplicably depressing by dinner.

Five samples became six.

Six became...

I don't know.

Ten?

At some point the living room stopped looking like a room under renovation and started looking like the Sherwin-Williams sample department.

But we did one thing differently than we might have done twenty years ago.

We waited.
We lived with the samples.
Walked past them.
Looked at them in morning light.

Afternoon light.
At night.
Cloudy days.
Sunny days.

Artificial light.

There was no hurry.  The room wasn't going anywhere.  And slowly we came to a realization... we didn't love any of them.  Not one.

So much for beige.

______________________________________________

A few more interior projects at House 173:

∙ The Dining Room Built-In Megapost
∙ The Hallway Makeover Megapost
∙ Legacy Project: Bathroom 2002
∙ The Radiator Cover Megapost
∙ The Kitchen Remodel Series
∙ The Front Porch Interior Megapost (2020)

And, because every project apparently creates another project... Back Porch Rehab '24 Megapost

______________________________________________

Part 3: The Color We Never Saw Coming

Almost out of frustration, we finally started trying colors that weren't part of the plan at all.

Lighter.
Cleaner.
Brighter.

Colors we'd probably have dismissed immediately when we began.

And then we put one on the wall.

Sherwin-Williams White Mint.

It's an odd color to photograph.  Some online pictures make it look gray.

None are quite right.

It's just... White Mint.

And from the moment a decent-sized sample went onto the living room wall, something changed.

The room looked taller.
Cleaner.
Quieter.

The natural light suddenly had somewhere to go.

And maybe most surprising of all... the original woodwork stood out more.

The paint chip makes it look a little yellow.

Brighter.

That's what ultimately sold me.

For years I assumed the warm Tuscan colors complemented the dark old woodwork... and they did.

But White Mint did something completely different.
Instead of blending with the wood, it gave it space.

The trim became architectural again.
Window casings popped.

Doorways felt more defined.

The contrast made the old wood look richer without changing a single thing about it.

Sometimes you don't realize how much a background controls what you see until you change the background.

Goodbye Tuscany

There's a temptation when updating an old room to talk about the previous version as though it had been some terrible mistake.

It wasn't.

The Tuscan living room belonged to us for more than twenty years.

It was cozy.
It was warm.
It fit our tastes in 2004.
And more importantly, it was home.

But standing in the freshly painted room in 2026, I could finally admit something.

The warm palette had started feeling... heavy.

White Mint pulled the room in a completely different direction.

Lighter.
Calmer.
Airier.
Maybe even a little younger.

Not younger in the sense of making a 1927 house pretend it's new.  Just refreshed.  And that's a distinction I think we're getting better at here.

Before and After

This is where the entire project really makes sense.

 
BEFORE

Warm.

Dark.

Cozy.

Familiar.

AFTER

Same floor.
Same windows.
Same trim.
Same room.

But an entirely different feeling.

The natural light travels farther into the space.

The room feels visually larger even though we didn't add so much as a square inch.

And the original woodwork, the thing we've always loved most about 173, suddenly has more presence than it did before.

That's the kind of transformation I like.

No walls knocked down.
No HGTV moment where somebody swings a sledgehammer into perfectly good plaster.
No dumpster full of the house's history.

Mostly...care.

This Was Supposed to Be “Just Painting”

I should have learned by now.  There's no such project at House 173 as:

“We're just going to paint.”

Because before the paint came:

Wallpaper removal.
Wallpaper glue removal.
Plaster repairs.
Sanding.
Electrical work.
Caulk.
Cleaning.
Paint samples.
More samples.
Second-guessing.

Then finally... paint.

And that's okay.

If we'd simply painted over whatever was there, the room would have looked freshly painted.  Instead, it feels repaired.

There's a difference.

A lot of the work that made this room feel new again is now completely invisible.  And that's exactly how it should be.

One Little Piece of 2004 Stayed Behind

There was one last thing I couldn't resist.

Before everything went back into place, I left a small section of the old Sunny Tuscany wallpaper behind the corner hutch.

Nobody will see it.

That's the point.

Maybe thirty years from now someone else will pull that hutch away from the wall and discover it.

Maybe they'll wonder why somebody intentionally left this little piece of wallpaper behind.

Maybe they'll think:
Good grief, people actually decorated like this?

And hopefully they'll somehow figure out that yes...
we did.

And we loved it.

I like leaving little things like that behind.
Not because House 173 is a museum.
Because it has a memory.

More Than Twenty Years in One Room

The thing that strikes me most looking back at these photographs isn't really the paint color.

It's time.  

We're fortunate to have a small collection of images from the Moshers, who had 173 from it's build in 1927 until they both passed in the 1990s.  Take a look at the living room, both of which I'd estimate to be the 1960s.

Here's a shot right before we started on our first living room makeover in 2004 - oh, and pardon my leg shot!

 

In 2004, Sunny Tuscany represented exactly what we wanted the living room to be.

In 2026, White Mint represents something entirely different.

Neither is more authentic.
Neither is more correct.
They're simply different chapters.

[Note:  I told you earlier, capturing White Mint on camera is difficult!]

Anyway, that's one of the things I've come to appreciate about living in the same house for this long.  You stop thinking of remodeling as erasing what came before.

You're just adding another layer.

House 173 had lives before us.
It has had multiple lives with us.

And someday it'll have another life with somebody else.

For now?

This is ours.

What I'd Do Differently

The easy answer?

I'd have figured out the razor-scraper wallpaper trick before spending most of a day fighting the first wall.

That would have been helpful.

I'd also remind myself, again, that paint chips are suggestions, not answers.  The color we were convinced we wanted never materialized.

The color we would have dismissed at the beginning became the obvious winner once we actually saw it in the room.

And perhaps most importantly, I wouldn't rush the preparation.

There was a time when I saw patching, sanding and caulking as annoying things standing between me and painting.

Now?

I think they're the painting.
Rolling color on the wall is just the victory lap.

A Few Things This Project Reminded Me

Old decorating isn't automatically bad decorating.

Sometimes a room simply reaches the end of a chapter.
A wall color should be judged on the wall, not on a two-inch paper square under fluorescent store lighting.

Old plaster deserves a little patience.

If the room is already empty, fix the electrical things you've been ignoring.

Caulk does more visually than anyone gives it credit for.

And if you live in a house long enough... never assume you're “just painting.”

The 2026 Living Room Update: By the Numbers

22 years with Sunny Tuscany wallpaper
3 posts documenting what was supposed to be a simple refresh
4 walls of nearly century-old plaster
Approximately 10 paint colors considered, give or take our sanity
1 old-fashioned can opener drafted into plaster-repair duty
Every outlet in the living room updated
Countless little cracks, nail holes and gaps repaired
1 completely unexpected winning paint color
1 tiny piece of 2004 wallpaper intentionally left behind
0 walls demolished

And approximately...

Several hundred occasions when we stared at paint samples and asked each other:  What do you think?

Final Thoughts: Same Room, Different Chapter

Looking at the finished living room now, it's difficult to imagine it covered in Sunny Tuscany wallpaper.

Which is funny.

Because six months ago it was difficult to imagine it without Sunny Tuscany wallpaper.

That's what twenty-two years will do.

The old room wasn't wrong.
The new room isn't more authentic.
We've simply changed.

And House 173 changed a little with us.

The plaster underneath is still old.
The woodwork is still the same woodwork somebody installed nearly a century ago.
The windows are where they've always been.
The dimensions haven't changed.

But light moves through the room differently now.

The trim looks richer.
The walls feel quieter.
The whole room feels a little more open.

And maybe that's my favorite kind of renovation.
Not one where you stand back and say:
Look at all the new stuff.

But one where you look around and think:
Yeah...this feels right.

For twenty-two years, Sunny Tuscany was part of the story of this room.  Now White Mint gets its turn.

And somewhere behind the corner hutch, a tiny piece of 2004 is still hanging on.

Just in case somebody needs proof.

Hey, thanks for sticking with us through all three parts... and thanks for stopping by.

See ya' next time!

Frequently Asked Questions

Is it worth removing old wallpapers instead of painting over it?

Usually, if the wallpaper is already lifting, separating at seams or otherwise deteriorating, removal gives you the opportunity to evaluate and repair the wall underneath. Painting over failing wallpaper may temporarily disguise the problem but can leave visible seams and prevent proper repair of damaged plaster or drywall.

What was the easiest method for removing the old wallpaper at House 173?

For this particular wallpaper, the breakthrough was removing the decorative outer layer first with a razor scraper. Once the backing was exposed, moisture could reach the adhesive much more effectively. Warm water and a sponge then removed most of the remaining backing and glue.

That doesn't mean every wallpaper will behave the same way. Test a small area first before declaring war on an entire room.

Why repair plaster cracks before painting if the cracks are small?
Paint doesn't make cracks disappear. In fact, a fresh, uniform wall color can make old defects more noticeable. Repairing loose or failed material first gives the new finish a sounder surface and generally produces a much cleaner result.

With an old plaster-and-lath house, the goal doesn't have to be making every wall look newly manufactured. The goal is stable, sound and appropriately finished.

 
Should old-house plaster walls look perfectly smooth?
Not necessarily.

A nearly century-old plaster wall will often contain slight waves, evidence of previous repairs and other subtle irregularities. Those aren't automatically defects. Part of preserving an old house is learning the difference between damage that needs correction and harmless evidence of age.

House 173 isn't new construction.

I don't particularly want it to look like it is.

 
Why test paint colors directly on the wall?
Paint reacts dramatically to its surroundings. Window direction, daylight, artificial lighting, flooring, furniture and adjacent woodwork can all change how a color reads.

The beige and greige colors we expected to love often looked completely different once they were on the living-room walls. White Mint, which wasn't part of the original plan at all, only became the obvious choice after we saw it in the actual room.
How long should paint samples stay on the wall?

There isn't a magic number, but several days is far better than several minutes.

Look at samples in morning light, bright afternoon sun, cloudy weather, evening light and whatever lamps you normally use at night.

A color that works only between 11:15 and 11:27 on a sunny Tuesday probably isn't the one.

 
Why did White Mint make the original woodwork stand out more?
The lighter wall color created greater contrast with the dark historic trim. Instead of the woodwork visually blending into the warm, deeper wallpaper tones, its edges, profiles and natural color became more distinct.

Nothing happened to the wood.  We simply changed what surrounded it.

 
Is caulking really important before interior painting?
Where caulk is appropriate, yes.

Small gaps between trim and plaster create shadows that can make an otherwise good paint job look unfinished. Closing those joints creates cleaner transitions and can make old trim look much more integrated with the wall.

Of course, not every old-house gap should automatically be filled. Some assemblies need movement, and genuine defects should be repaired rather than merely covered.

 
Why update outlets during a painting project?
An empty room is a rare opportunity.
Furniture is already out of the way, plates are already being removed, and access is easier than it will be once everything goes back together.

In our case, updating older ungrounded outlets while the room was apart made considerably more sense than deciding six months later that we should have done it.

Should decorating choices from an earlier remodel be preserved?
Not necessarily physically, but I think they're worth respecting.

The old Tuscan room wasn't a mistake simply because our tastes changed. It represented what we loved in 2004 and served House 173 beautifully for more than two decades.

That's why I left a little piece of the original wallpaper hidden behind the hutch.

The new room doesn't have to erase the old room to replace it.

Can a lighter paint color really make a room seem larger?
It can certainly make a room feel larger.

Lighter colors tend to reflect more available light, which can reduce the visual heaviness of walls and make boundaries feel less dominant. In our living room, the footprint didn't change at all, yet the lighter walls noticeably changed our perception of the space.

What was the biggest lesson from the 2026 living-room update?
Probably that we were wrong about what we wanted.

And that's okay.

We started looking for beige.
We ended with White Mint.

Sometimes the purpose of all those samples, all that staring and all that second-guessing isn't to confirm the decision you already made.

It's to discover that you haven't made the right decision yet.

Keywords

living room makeover, old house living room renovation, wallpaper removal, plaster wall repair, Sherwin-Williams White Mint, living room paint color, painting old plaster walls, historic wood trim, DIY living room update, House 173, living room