This house is looking more inhabited. In a good way- and then in some not so good ways. . .
But we're not talking about that today.
Remember this little um, project?
I have an obsession with chalkboard paint, apparently. I don't even want to talk about how the can of it fell from its shelf and onto my mudroom floor. Everywhere. Sniffle.
But anyway, my chalkboard tags:
And my flour and sugar.
And now I know that you're not supposed to completely seal off sugar. Makes it as hard as a rock. Did you know that? But I digress.
Behold my other obsession, namely, vinyl:
I'm driving my vinyl-cutter (aka my SIL) bonkers.
And then my obsession with old, vintagey-looking things.
Like my telephone-o.
Behold my most favoritest thing in my entire house. Bar none.
Ooh I heart you, clock.
I think I like words.
And old keys.
And I believe every home ought to have an old, beat up, european license plate.
Have I crossed the line from interesting to full out bizarre yet? That's okay. You don't have to like my weirdness.
And finally, after serious picture overload, I lurve this shelf. My dad made it years ago and asked if I was interested in it.
Oh, your gorg curves. Heck yes I want it. I painted it in black gloss (originally natural oak).
Added some vintage bling.
And gave it a little distress look with some sandpaper.
Man Jeff's a good sport to put up with my weird crap.