Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Powder Rooms & Urine Cocktails.

I guess I ought to start out with a warning:
Don't you judge the paint color in my powder room. It's horrid. I know this. It's number 2 on my painting list, okay? This was back before I realized that picking a paint color was similar in complication to brain surgery.
I didn't know! I was just a child! A babe in home decor, if you will.
I still can't believe that I did this or thought this was a good idea,
(pictures from Houzz)
but have you kinda seen how people are throwing up some wallpaper in teeny spaces?
And I actually like it!

I can't believe I'm saying this, as one who has fought the good fight of removing massive quantities of 80's wallpaper from walls, I was going to do this to myself again. ?.
So it has come to this.
And it was like, way fun to search for a black & white wallpaper (isn't it like, totally obvi that I would choose black & white? Is there any other color scheme for me?) for the first couple of months.
Yeah, I'm saying I looked a looong time. Online, at a couple stores, etc.
Couple things here:
-Wallpaper can be extremely expensive.
-And then some of it isn't even washable.
HELLO. In a bathroom, where nearly every day there's a new urine cocktail of several boys' (some of them mine, some not mine) urine?
I'm going to spend like $50 ish bucks to do just one wall in my powder room and not be able to wash it?
So the plan sat and sat. And I'd browse the interwebs some more for fun here and there.
I can't tell you where I got my wallpaper. I'm too embarrassed. No! Don't ask me.
Just know this: it's removable and repositionable. I'm serious, this stuff is awesome. See the square up there? I had to try it out for a second. WE ALREADY TALKED ABOUT NOT TALKING ABOUT THE PAINT GOSH.
Alright, fine. Just drag it out of me, would you? Take it to the grave though. Take. it. to. the. grave.:
Not even wallpaper. It's shelf liner. It's so, so easy to move around and take down, and it doesn't fall down on it's own at all. I know because it's been up for a while now. And I can't say where I got it. Just one small small hint. Let's call this place, D Tree. No, no. That's too obvious. Let's call it, Dollar T.

I slapped this stuff up there with reckless abandon. I wasn't careful, I didn't try to line it up, it's so sloppy it's ridiculous, and I really don't care. Know why?
I spent $3.
And I think it's a really busy pattern, so you can get away with sloppy when it's a cray cray pattern.
I really like it and think it's funsies, but I get sick of stuff fast, and when I feel like taking this down, and that could be tomorrow, or in ten years, it's going to take me 10 minutes and we can even pretend like it never happened.
Sports guy chest bump.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Stuff I Feel Like Talking About.

Okay. First of all,
this just happened. Every single kid, in school, same schedule, all day. It's too soon to even talk about all the mixed, up and down neurotic emotions I'm feeling right now.
It's good, and yet it's sad. But it's so, so good. And yet. . . melancholy.
Check out this totally awesome apron I got for working out in thee ole gay-rage:
I love this old canvas-y leather-y thing to keep the sawdust off my person. Okay this shot isn't working for me, here. New shot.

She's armless!  Creepy. I like this apron too too much to ever like, stain or paint in it. Keep off the sawdust? Sure. My dad wears a labcoat whilst working out in thee ole shop. I should get one of those, too.
Okay, so-- here's the thing:
This corbel desk has been a strange obession of mine for years.
A blogging friend's handy dad built this (website here) and I loved it then and I STILL LOVE IT AND CAN'T GET OVER IT. He built this 3 years ago. Can't believe it's been that long, but a few months ago, I just like, had to have this desk for an entryway desk.  It's a knockoff of Restoration Hardware's fabulous desk:
Say you love it! I love it! I don't have the $1200 it takes to buy this but I do have a jigsaw and a lot of love to give.
The only reason I didn't get all up on this three years ago was because I thought it was too hard. Well I thought it through and decided to still go for it because I'm not right in the head.
Lotsa jigsawing going on here, people. This is 2x12x12's, and there's 8 separate pieces to jigsaw.
Hard to cut but definitely fun to take lots of pictures from weird angles.

(that website I linked to up there has PDF files you can print out for the same pattern. I altered mine just slightly. Kind of for a different look/laziness.)
Don't you people be judgin my garage- I got all up on that after I snapped this shot okay.
This was a lot of hours. And a crap-ton of sawdust. But I'm excited. Already stained 'em a dark color, and I'm going to attempt the glass on top. . .keep your fingers crossed. . . squeezing my eyes shut hoping. . .

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Losing My Faith In Humanity, & Other Grouchy Stories.

Before I commence flinging poo,
I do want to say first off that my summer is going smashingly. I just currently have an axe to grind. A bone to pick. Heads to bust.

(just trying to lighten the mood with gratuitous, unrelated pictures)
Do you ever feel like several related things happen at once? I totally feel like similar things happen at one time to teach one a lesson. I need to learn something real important here, and it's one of these: 
1. some people suck and I should put up a defensive brick wall and stop trying
2. something else I'm not willing to learn right now because holy crap I'm ornery.
Indulge me with a story. I'll do my best to sum up.
One month ago, I pulled out of my driveway to take my daughter to kindergarten, (yeah, we were still in school a month ago. Sad) and my neighbor directly across the street pulled out at the same time. Long story short (too late), I didn't see her, she didn't see me, and our bumpers met in the middle of the street.
Since we were going 2 miles per hour, it was absolutely minor. Little missing paint scrape on her bumper, little more damage to mine, both of us going "holy cow sorry I didn't see you!" at the same time, with a "well, no big deal! Sorry again!" and off we went. After all, we both have old cars, and what's one more not really noticeable scrape?
But, no.

(still trying. 'S not working.)

Three weeks later, the same neighbor (she's not actually my neighbor, she's like, the sister? whatevs) shows up demanding my insurance information and more accusations that no, we didn't hit bumpers, I hit her in the driver side door, and she wants it fixed.
(Really? Really?? How'd ya get out of your car so we could talk if I hit ya in the driver's side?  Why in the world would we go inspect bumpers together if you got hit on your side?? WHATEVER. ARGG)

Ugg. How are people this dishonest? I'm typically very NOT confrontational, but this one was so obviously wrong that I really let it all out.

 I spent a looong time on the phone today with my insurance company telling every detail of my side of the story, and guess what? It doesn't matter. It's her word against mine, and she'll file and get what she wants, and this is why some people suck.


One more quickie, and I promise to stop the word vomit.

For several years now, I've considered volunteering my time to cross elementary school kids across a busy street on the way to and from school. A lot of kids cross there, and they're giving me a heart attack. (No, children-- you can't push the flashing yield sign and then dart out in the road immediately.)

This year seemed like a good year to really get out there and do it, until my brother in law warned me that I could be held liable, should something bad happen.

For realsies, people? I wouldn't be getting paid, I'd be out there in sunshine, rain, butt cold conditions, whatever, on my own time, for no reason except to try and keep your dang kid safe, but if something bad happened, I should take the fall.

I'm getting all riled up right now. Okay, okay. Deep, calming breaths. Smelling the roses, blowing out the candles.

I won't torture you with my other similar occurrences, but there's several other little things that have proven to me that no good deed goes unpunished.

And I'm just waiting for one (or more!) of the neighbor moms to tell me off for how I watched their kid(s) and fed their kid(s) the whole summer break the wrong way. Keep your own dang kids, then. I'll keep mine.

Yeah, it's like that today. I should just go to bed.  I'll apologize later when I'm out of my mood.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

No Talky Talky.

Can't. . .talk. . .
doing this. . .
and this. . .

and this

intermingled with



mixed with this cuteness,

and a little a this,

with lotsa this,

and then there was this.

and there probably shouldn't have been this. . .

but definitely lotsa this.

Let's get together real soon and we'll chit chat. Kiss kiss hug hug.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Summer Lovin', Had Me a Blast. . .

Every year I think I use that title for a post. How unoriginal.
Oh! Random side note! I actually got on Instagram. I'm shocked, you're shocked. We're all shocked. I've got that neat-o little "Follow me On Instagram" button on the side, there. Over, over- to the right- your other right. There. Let's be Instafriends.


Holy heck people, it's summer. Do you feel naughty? I feel naughty. I feel like I've blown off life and nothing really matters except for having fun. And eating. Donuts.
Said it before 'n I'll say it again:
Winter is punishment for all the fun you had in summer.
I'm planning on some serious punishment coming my way in 6 months, 'cause nothin's really getting done around here. Kids are still in school-- I'm not even asking if they have homework anymore. Don't ask, don't tell policy.
So! Every year I do this nerdy thing where I pick a song. A theme song, if you will. A summer theme song that every time I hear said song for years to come it reminds me of good times while the sweat drips annoyingly down all my cracks and cleavages. Popsicles 'n sun. Gardening and sprinklers. And so forth.

Last year, I chose this goodie:

I still love this song. And now it belongs to 2014.

This year, I choose this fabulous number:


Ack, I love it so. As always, listen to it while we chat here, because we are not done. Oh no, not even close. Got a year?


Every summer I shift my attention from the inside of the house to the outside. I'm only one person, dang it! I can do inside or out. Not both. Let's not be silly.

Did you see that picture way up there?

I showed you last year how I planted some honeysuckle and had high hopes for it.

And look how well it did in one season! Only a foot high starting out, and now it's climbing all over my arbor. Gosh, I love stuff that grows.

And that I don't kill.

This gardening stuff is totally addicting and totally expensive. Holy crap, batman, it's a thriving industry. I look at fabulous flower beds and admire them, and then the very next thing I do is start adding up an estimate on the cost of it all. We've all gone into the wrong business-- nurseries are where it's at.

I have too many flower beds. Honestly, I can't keep up with all my flower beds everywhere.

And I'm doing my best to buy pretty perennials and to buy them clearanced, but I have to take it one season at a time to not spend like our life savings on plants.

(Let's not talk about what I spent this season alone on the north side of my house. Choke. Gag. Red face and eyes bulging.)

So! Hopefully in a couple more seasons my beds will be filled out and really where I'd like 'em to be.

Small project! (squeal)

My kitchen window has a lovely view of my pergola (last season's mucho expensive-o project).

Oh, there that window is, all hidden behind the grill. So sad- no moulding. Welp, the grill got taken off the deck, and there the kitchen window sat. Naked.

So I pulled out some old cedar boards I had lying around (we're talking just cheap dog eared fence posts), cut them to length, stained 'em the same tone as the pergola, and attached them with some metal brackets and concrete anchors (they work great for stucco, y'all). Like so.

I love this totally simple shelf! I love that I can put whatever I want on it. I need extra space for food whilst entertaning out here? No problem! Set it on the shelf.

Wow this is a ghetto view. Don't you judge me. But looky what we have here:

I'm doing the dishes and I get to look at some potted petunias and such out my window now. 'N that makes me happy. I think it'd be lovely with a sweet potato vine hanging down. On to something. I just might have to do that.

Side note! Do you love the old world terracotta pot look?

A bloggy buddy has a great tut on how to make your terracotta pots look old. I didn't follow all the directions to make mine as cool as hers because I am nothing if not lazy, but for me, it was "Make It Stone" spray paint and a little bit of light sanding. Boom. Old pots. Me likey.

I love this shelf! And I need a greenhouse so I can grow my own stuff and save a wad. But that's no biggie, right?

Sunday, June 14, 2015

I Hate People. Some People. Handymen People.

Can you believe that it was over three months ago that I mentioned having my kitchen redone?
I swear, the older I get, weeks pass like days, and months like weeks. It's nuts. My life is just a flash in the pan.
Kay, so, I'm getting mad even thinking about this. Furrowed brow and scrunched up face. My head is wagging and so is my finger. I hired this dude and paid a down to have my cabinets "professionally" refinished 10 weeks ago.
Do you know how many times I could have refinished my cabinets all by myself in 10 weeks? Ew I'd like to junk punch somebody. And the thing is, I have zero desire to do all that work myself, hence paying this dude (who had great reviews, by the way, until I'm through with him. Sinister voice. Maniacal laughter.).
Alright alright, I'm going on and on, so let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up:
The guy won't give me a straight answer about when he's going to be able to get here and do this. I've asked him first politely to stop stringing me along and be profesh, OR
send back my deposit and I will curse his name to the end of my days. Oy.
The most pathetic part, is I distinctly remember, as I signed a contract and wrote out a check, something along these lines:
"I will have a heart attack and die from the surprise if this guy actually shows up on his appointed day."
Because that's the kind of experience I've had every.single.time whilst hiring out something. Just do it yourself people! Or send me your responsible, non-jerkface guy's info, because I'm striking out.
But anyways! On to happier things!  The sun is out and it's beautiful out there and we simply cannot, cannot have this kind of negativity in our lives. Of course not.
So, in preparation for the nonexistent cabinet reno,
I pulled down this random lone cabinet buddy. (Except it wasn't decorated like this- it was super cute with these dainty little tea cups and saucers and a tea pot and it was just adorbs, because hello, it's not fall.)
Anyway, I pulled this down. All by myself. When no one was home. On a stepladder. And it was like one of the dumbest things I've ever done because it was ultra heavy and I was pretty freaked there for a minute thinking,
"I'm going to fall off this stepladder and this thing is going to fall on my head and no one will know and my kids will find me and they'll be traumitized for life because there's their mom, like all decapitated on the kitchen floor and their lives will be ruined and then they'll live in a cardboard box."
But thankfully I manhandled this bad boy down to the ground, and while it wasn't pretty, it got done. And I've learned an important lesson, kids.
Then I began building the crappiest floating shelves that ever were.
I'm serious-- they're crappy. This is not my first rodeo, hello, but for whatever reason I sucked these up. Despite my best intentions, they are not my best work. I was having a seriously off day. (Chosing too deep of shelves to be cantilievered: check.)
But let's not talk about that now- I like them for now. I like open shelving. Love it and have always wanted that for this space.

I hemmed and hawed over white, stained, rustic, or black, and went with black for funsies. Also, love love the one coat of black.
And the funnestest part was putting my new black n white dishes from Ikea up here.
Honestly, I can't say for certain that these will stay for any length of time because my shoddy work bugs me. I like them for now, but reserve the right to switch them out with fancy corbels 'n such. I like changes in my most lived in space, what can I say.
Also, send me your best prank ideas, would ya? This handyman guy deserves a little harmless something his way. I've got a few ideas, and they involve dog poop and firecrackers.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Dang It Jim, It's a Family Room, Not Rocket Science.

I have so much to say about my living room reno and I don't even know where to start.
But let's start with this:
pillows in this home prior to now have been the bane of our existence. When I picked up new pillows this time, we had a family convo that went a little something like this:
"You kids see these pillows? They are going to stay right here. You got me? They don't belong in your room. You don't get to sleep on them.. They don't go in the basement. They don't belong on the floor. They're not for pillow fights. You are old enough to leave these dang pillows alone. ALONE. They will stay here and not move. None of y'all are two years old anymore, and you can handle this. Got it?"
This is why we can't have nice things.
I give up on the throw blanket laying just so on the sofa in the magazine spread.  Any way I lay it, it just isn't working like in the mags. Whatevs.
Okay. Now, let's get into it:
Have you ever, like, unintentionally sabotaged your own decorating plans? My decorating style is black and white. Black. White. This isn't complicated.
And yet here we are staring at black and CREAM. Black and actual, true, WHITE is like impossible to find. I didn't even realize I was bringing home fluffy fuzzy furry pillows that weren't white. Even Ikea has black and "white" (CREAM. Agggg. Why?).  I'm over it, but I just wanna know if it's hard for other people to stick to their personal code of d├ęcor.
Okay. Enough about pillows. So I got some new pillows. I also got myself a coffee table.
I like this coffee table a lot, and I really liked the price. But truthfully I regret not bringing in more white to the space. A white coffee table would've been cool. Just being honest even though I want to punch myself in the face for saying it. But do you see what I mean? You don't keep your eye on the prize and realize just how you want things to be, and you sabotage yourself.
Still like it though. I swear I'm really not picky. I do like this space a lot. I just could've thought through things a little more is all.
Rugs. Ho man-- rugs. Don't let me bore you, here--
but doesn't it seem like a good idea to bring in some texture with a rug? Like a sisal rug, right? That was my idea. I picked one up at Overstock, umkay. The Safavieh Hand-woven natural fiber natural jute rug to be exact, and we lived with it for two weeks in place. Not like this picture. Like for reals furniture back in it's spot 'n everything.
Here it is getting ready to be rolled back up.
#1: this rug is not sisal. They've since changed the name to jute, because that's what it is, duh.
#2. This rug stinks.
#3. This rug is a filthy mess.
#4. This rug looked 10 years old in 2 weeks and was getting big holes in it after 1 week.
I don't even need to go on but you look at all the dirt falling out of this thing:

Can you see that? That's not from us. We are filthy animals but that was from this rug. People warned about it in comments but I thought the people who loved it knew more and I gambled and I lost.
I stared and stared and staredandstared at a new rug to take it's place. Don't you think this one looks cool?
I thought it was totally cool in a retro, grunge-y vintage-y way if there's even such a thing.  Like it belongs in the Addams family mansion.  'N I loved it.  Can't really say it looks that way in real life. Sigh.
The Jeffro insisted we needed a smaller rug. Not so, said I. "They" said that it's a decorating faux pas to have too small a rug, I said. Read it on Pinterest, I said.
Jeffro ( in a "someone is a moron" tone, deadpan): "Who is 'they'? That's a dumb rule. It gets in the way and people trip over it. I want a smaller one."
In your face, rug Nazis. In.your.face. Why don't you tell on me.
I guess the rug's staying even though I'm not sure it gives off that grunge vintage look I wanted. Even though I'm picking apart my family room, I like it and I'm confirming it as done. I swear I like it. We're just, ya know, conversing! Man, I'm sending mixed messages.
Humor me and look around the room with me, won't you? You're a doll.
In March we had:
And now, we have:
New paint. New crown moulding. New huge fireplace moulding. New huge fan. New tile. New stairs. Freshly stained dark walnut banisters and handrails that TOTALLY DESERVE their own post because they were such a pain in my buns but it's too boring for me to talk about,
Couple pillows, coffee table, foot rest that is far too trendy even for me but I still like it, improperly sized rug, fabulously long curtains,
drug in a chair from another part of the house to give it more of a "room" feel, and it really is like, a room.
It's cozier. More comfy. I like it. Everyone seems to like it better. It also feels a little more chaotic. Just to be real.  But I'm okay with it.
And just as a sidenote,
on a whim I threw this huge corbel up here to start the room off. It's holding up nothing. Maybe that's strange. I don't care. I love it.