Holiday House Rules

In addition to whining and snarking.

On Friday, I did a little shop. 

Calm down, JWH, I already returned the AG jeans and this shop will, when items are returned for size duplication, equal your new Jambox toy thing that I bought for you out of the kindness of my heart.*

Anyway, here are the looks I will be rocking this spring:

Boden, one and all.

*We/I had a little windfall come my way. I may use it, as threatened, here, for a new piece of furniture. I also may use it for windows for the mud room, as discussed here. But that is hardly sexy, so JWH and I each get $200 of fun money. Oh, and Amex gets a bite, too. As they always do...

Maybe it's the snow.

As the Bun said this morning as we slid our way to school, "I'm done liking snow." Yeah. And I never even started. 

So, when the 1-2" they predicted yesterday turned to 8-10" still falling today, well, that impacts ones mood. 

In other news: I'm dining with my mother in law tomorrow.

You are now fully up to speed on my mental state. 

Symptoms of this state involve leaving a thoroughly not-relevant comment on a blog that indicated my disdain for what constitutes journalism these days. Pack me right up with the wacko Slate readers who comment to that effect each and every time Farhad Manjoo has a story there. Poor Farhad, he seems an affable enough guy, but some dudes have a lot of hate that they sling his way. I'm maybe not quite that "angry white man," or maybe I just feel I have more right to trash the profession, since, you know, I have several degrees in journalism. 

Several you say? Yeah. Oh, yeah.

You see, even though I had an epiphany at age 19, while sitting in some class called Newswriting 101 or some such*, that really, truly, monkeys could be trained to do this just as well as my classmates. And this was a $30k a year institution, mind you, so I'm not trying to insult my classmates. It was just the task at hand. So simplistic. 

Regardless, I went back to school an got a masters in Journalism, too. It's an MSJ, meaning they felt it appropriate to put the word "Science" in there. No idea why.

But, back to the writing, the journalism, it's not all bad. There is the New Yorker and even the New York Times, on many occasions, can teach me or move me or amuse me. But the basic news story? The basic interview? In this new, brave, digital world I have replaced "monkeys" with "Google." (I think you might be able to do this in many instances as, just this morning I saw and article about how Google was better at predicting drug interactions than pharma companies.) The good folks at Google have got to have a bot that could spit out who, what, where, when, and call it good. Likewise, the bot could take copy from an interview and string together the quotes, perhaps tossing in a few metaphors here and there?

Oh, the poor journalist! My friends! My compatriots! But, dudes, you have got to help yourselves, too. The new format of "reviews" where a few writers online chat about the something and we get to read their pithy banter? You get paid for that? My friends and I do it all day long for free...this is not a winning business model. The monkeys, the Google...it's not looking good.

 

*My 101 professor's name is long lost to me. But he did teach me one thing: what a "gin blossom" was. That guy's nose was enormous and red and stained and I was shocked when I found out that it was not some sort of sad defect from birth. Think I'm exaggerating? Well, class was at 2 pm Wednesdays, or some such respectable college class time. And we'd all tromp upstairs and wait by the locked classroom door. Locked because this was an urban campus and there were typewriters in there. Yea, I said typewriters. I existed on that cusp: I did layout on pasteboards and coded type on a Wang and then graduated and used Ventura Publisher and MacDraw. Call me old. Ok, tangent over. We waited in the hall, usually for 5 minutes or so, and then someone would volunteer to run over to The Dug Out and get the old coot. The bar. He was at the bar. And that was considered just fine. I also remember that he said "fiya" for "fire" and if we got too fancy in our prose he would say, "you are writin' for tha chowdaheads on the greenline, rememeba?" Yeah. I paid 30k a year for that.

Oh, the effing ceiling.

Don't pretend my potty mouth is a surprise to you. It's not. I know that. JWH actually complimented me the other day on how much less I swear these days. So, really, just be glad you did not meet me a few year ago when I was like a trucker with an Orla Kiely purse and red cork-heeled wedges.

So, anyway, day two of the kitchen ceiling. We started strong, with buying paint and such. I had some Behr paint from the master bath ceiling, but I really did not like it. It was goopy and thick and showed brush marks way too much. 

So, bought ceiling paint, and paint to spray those can light covers white. Yay for me.

I also took the can covers off and washed them. That involved about 6 million dead bugs. Desiccated corpses from 1984 onward. I had to use a toothpick to scrape the remains off some covers.

This was not considered fun. This tested my resolve. But, I soldiered on, and after taking the Bun to a birthday party - a swimming party, at which she stood next to the pool and pouted and said, repeatedly, loudly, "I am not having a very good time." Yeah, and I'm having the time of my life, here, kid, making small talk with other parents on an 80 degree and humid indoor pool deck - anyway, after that I went home nd thought that inhaling some paint fumes could not make the afternoon any worse, so I hit these suckers with the matte bright white. 

Yeah. Day two and out.

 

I really do not like painting ceilings.

It's just a pain in the tushy. But, I decided to just get on it already and tackle the kitchen, like I declared I would here. The ceiling was in rough shape, splotchy. And there was this puckered-up water stain of unknown origin.

Of course, I forgot to take a picture of the stain prior to getting up on the island and scraping it off. But, here it is scraped - it's there, between the lights:

 

Sorry to report, too, that in addition to being to lazy to take a "before" picture, I also was too lazy to go up and get the real camera. So, this project is brought to you by iPhone. Here is a nice shot of some splotches.

 

Also of note in that picture is the bisque color of the light covers. Why are they not white?!?! I have no idea. Perhaps they once were? I doubt it, since they are pretty uniformly "bisque." Which is another word for "ugly."

So, day one of the kitchen paint looked like this:

1. hop up on the kitchen island 
2. scrape the water damage spot
3. slather a little joint compound on it
4. put a little Zinser stain covering primer on it
5. look around while standing on the island and realize there are cobwebs above the cabinets
6. vacuum cobwebs
7. notice some places where there is a visible gap between the crown and the ceiling
8. decide, "hell, I might as well caulk that if I'm going to paint the damned ceiling anyway"
9. get the ladder and start caulking
10. get to the area above the cabinets and realize that the tops of the cabinets are filthy
11. ask JWH to hand me a bottle of cleaning something or other, at which he says, "Orange Clean, Windex or Clorox Clean Up?"
12. Choose "Windex"
13. Get handed some strange yellow, orange smelling stuff in a Windex bottle that does not clean for shit
14. Go back and get the real Windex
15. Find that is also craptastic at cutting grease (how is there grease up there? We never cook! Do people who do cook have like inches of grease up there or what?!?)
16. Go back to the cupboard and decide to try the "Orange Clean"
17. Holy shit, that stuff works!
18. Wonder what Orange Clean is used for and why we have it and decide that Erwin, my cleaning guy, may not be that bad after all. He did learn to stop splashing the Clorox Clean up with bleach on my towels and shower curtain once I showed him that, you know, it bleached them...

So, you see why this is now fully a two, if not three day job. I have yet to even buy the paint. But, a day of good prep, yeah! Celebrate.

Whatever. But do get some Orange Clean. Cleans grease and grime, as they say in the old Palmolive commercials. Or maybe they still say that in Palmolive commercials. I don't watch a lot of tv, are there still Palmolive commercials. Madge must be certainly long dead, right?

You may, here, wonder (in addition to wondering why I remember the name of the Palmolive* spokeswoman from the 70s) why it is that I do not know what is even in my cleaning cabinet. You may scoff at me for not being the person to clean my own toilets. You may scoff further when it is revealed that when Erwin, dear Erwin, wants new supplies he simply tells Ashley, and she gets them. Yes, I have a person who cleans and a person who supplies the cleaners. It's called modern life. Let's get back to the fact that I'm painting my own damned kitchen ceiling! Holla for the DIY girl. Ye-ah!

 

*Only after typing Palmolive 3 times did I realize that the brand folks did a little subconscious thing with that product name there: Palm+Olive (oil) = hands and smooth. Yeah. I think it won over the client the pitch, but in real life we say it so fast that I think it's lost. Perhaps a new campaign should start saying it "Palm (beat) Olive" and I'm sure I'm not the only one who will go, "Ohhhhh, clever!"

I know it's been killing you.

You are just aching to be shown my organization exploits, aren't you? Well, consider this a gift:

The cutlery drawer before:

and after:

The junk drawer (there is no before, because I did this organizing with the help of a small child, and therefore, it was a very hands-on experience. If I'd left things unattended for even 2 minutes all hell would have broken loose. As it was, it was an hour of, "oh, yes, it would be great to keep the pens each in their own slot, yes, great idea...not let's just try it this way, too..."

And so, this after was really hard-fought. Enjoy it as such:

Same for the straw drawer. What? You have no straw drawer? You do not live.

I also did the Playmobil and the Lego and moved the trains to a smaller bin and snuck a full set of blocks out from under her nose.

Oh, I rocked this shit.

(For the products I bought to make this all happen, see here and here.)

Off track.

I know that I stated previously that my goal this year was to update the Bun's room (started) and the dining room (not started), but then Dana at House*Tweaking got me all up in a lather about a dark paint color. You know I had wanted to paint my hall bath a dark teal, but it's really not a light enough room. And you may also know that I painted JWH's office a dark brown (embracing the dark so to speak, and it has not that much actual wall space so the contrast with the woodwork, well... works). 

But then I saw this:

(House*Tweaking)

So, yeah, I'm now thinking the dark brown office is horribly passe and that a nice charcoal would be a great improvement. The color, btw is "Besalt" by Ace. I have to go to the paint store for kitchen ceiling paint anyway...hmmmm.

The day the nightlight broke.

It was 5:30 am and the little voice from the hall was very, very soft. But I was awake already, having woken at 4:30 from a "sound" and then roused JWH at 4:45 to make him go search for a burglar. (There was none.) Still, as is habit at our house, JWH went down to see what was the matter.

The nightlight, it was not illuminated. 

I'm not sure why not, but it was still unlit when I went in to wake them in the morning, JWH curled up right next to the Bun. Flynn, as is his custom, bolted onto the bed to frolic. I put up the shades and we started our day.

But the broken nightlight was on my mind when I saw this:

(Desire to Inspire)

Now I am on the hunt for some of these string lights in just the right color for the Bun's room. Call them "Big Girl" night lights and Bob will indeed be your uncle.

A new idea.

You may or may not know that I have issues with the curtain in my kitchen. I mean, its fine, but I do not love it. I want something with a bit more punch. I fantasize about going to the fabric store and re-making it with something more fun and modern. But not silly, I hate silly. 

And I typically hate signs with words in kitchens. But then I saw this.

(Centsationation Girl)

What say you?

I am going to get on top of the kitchen to-do list this weekend I think. I'm not remembering if paiting that ceiling was on my official to-do list. But is should have been. And I am going to spray paint the can lights, too. The room is dark and I think painting the ceiling will help and the rims of the can lights being beige is helping exactly no one. 

Oh, and then there is the water stain. I'm going to scrape it and prime it and cover it and see what happens next. Slap-dash? Unwise? Unprofessional?

Perhaps.

Things I miss when they are unavailable to me.

1. My kid, duh.

2. JWH, double duh.

3. The treadmill. I'm not kidding, it's bliss. No one talks to me and I get to listen to TATE over and over and over without JWH sighing. How could I have married a man who likes reggae? Seriously. And how could this man like reggae, that is really the odd bit. It's like finding out that Warren Buffet likes Phish or Liz Phair listens to Randy Newman obsessively.

4.  Coffee.

5. And chocolate.

6. And sleep. I will always choose sleep.

7. This guy:                                                          

 

8. My favorite pen. Who the hell took my pen? I will hunt you down motherfucker...

9. The Airborne Toxic Event. Seriously dudes, where is that new album?

10. Summer, done like this:  

11. House porn. You know, pretty, pretty pictures of houses in Denmark and such. Usually all white with almost no furniture and one wooden child's toy artfully displayed as proof that "real people live here." Not.

12. A scarf. Young folk never understand the power of a scarf. I don't think I even owned one until I was over 30. Now, my neck feels naked and cold without a scarf in winter. Preferably cashmere. A girl has to have standards.

13. People who acknowledge me. I'm seriously peeved if I go someplace where people all look at the ground or play the "I'm very busy with their iPhone" game. Smile, say the fuck hello. If you were to suddenly choke on your Mentos you'd for sure look around and see that there was another human within 5 feet of you and want to be all best friends. Why not just do it in advance of the choking and smile while you are at it. Or nod. A small nod is considered acceptable. I'm not really that picky.

14. Days when you walk outside wearing short sleeves and the air feels like it's the exact same temperature as you are inside. It's not, it's much cooler, obviously, but you feel like you are floating in space and warm all at the same time. 

It's been a while.

Since I posted some pictures of pretty things I found on the interwebs. And, yet, JWH managed to get the whole Christmas thing wrapped up very nicely. Valentines, too. Yes, I know he got a secret, mid-day call from my office mate with a "you must buy this!" email follow up. But, he still gets credit for actually following through... Though she does tell me that she had to be quite firm with him, as he tried to get creative. Still, points for the team!

Anyway. On to some pretty things I am quite fond of:

There is this scarf. It comes in many colors and I would have a hard time choosing.

(Julie Vos)

 This dresser/cabinet. If I came into money suddenly, I'd buy this straightaway.

(Room & Board)

I'd also buy this lamp. JWH and I look at it all the time but never know where to put it. 

 

(Room and Board)

Or...maybe this one, in red? (It's the indecision that's holding us back, I know it is!)

(Design Within Reach)

 

But, back to me, me, me...I am liking these shoes quite a bit.

(Anthropologie)

And, there is a pretty good chance that if I saw this top in person I would be unable to pass it by. Look at all the colors...ooooh, ahhh. Green? Gray? Yes. Yes!

(Anthropologie)

 Okay, that is all for now. Lest I get the urge to pull out a credit card...

Curtains. Again. Yes. I know.

I happened upon a post of a house, a very expensive house, mind you, I make this assumption based solely on the use of fabrics costing well over $150/yd. for all their custom window treatments and pillows. (Oh, the pillows!)...From that fact alone you can just assume they had no real "budget," but, rather, a silly little number they gave the decorator and that decorator wrote it down dutifully in her notebook and then submit a bid and somewhat apologetically explained that things are a bit spendy these days but really, it's best to do it right if you are going to do it at all... Still, lovely house all the same. 

From that house I found this picture. I thought that if I stay in this house long enough, and I do replace the mud room windows this year and I do eventually get real window treatments in there...well, this might be an idea:

It's the stripes. Like my favorite t shirt (s).

 

Once started, you cannot stop me.

And, byt "once started" I mean, "once I have things in my online shopping cart, and therefore have to pull out the credit card anyway - I kind of just keep going."

This time? The Container Store got me. I was getting my handy cutlery drawer organizers and, well, why not tackle two or three other messy spots along the way. So I ordered a few more Bamboo Stackable drawer bobbies for the junk drawer (why the stackable? Why not? I ordered one extra piece to stack in the cutlery drawer, or maybe in this drawer, and I figure why not have all the same components so I can swap them around if/when my needs change):

and then I ordered this:

(The Container Store)

For the Bun's art supplies (right now there is a giant crappy plastic bin filled with all manner of marker, crayon, pencil, scissor and eraser). I suspect she will object to the change, but, dude, that bin is overflowing and just dirty. I'll try to snap a picture of it when we do the re-org.

And then, I bought these:

  

 

(The Contanier Store)

For the Lego. See, she now has "girl Lego" and "regular Lego" and will not allow the "girl Lego" to mix and mingle with the regular Lego. The good folks at Lego are trying to convince us all that the girl Lego will help bring girls into the Lego fold and inspire them to build, but no... By making the colors so different and the people so different (they do not lock in when seated! they have hips!) they sent a loud and clear message that this is "different" and my kid got the call. Girl Lego and regular Lego, to her, are as different as Lego and Playmobil. And, actually, Playmobil is pretty much what girl Lego is already. Playsets with lots of animals and little slightly bendy people. Yep. If I were Playmobil I'd be pissed.

But, anyway. Because I am a sorter by type and really just want the shit put away, I want the girl Lego to live in the same underbed bin as the rest. I think maybe I can nest the shoe box in the boot box and accomplish that? If it works I may do the same for the Playmobil and the "Christmas Playobil." Yep, you guessed it: "must be kept separate." This child will either be a genious or on Hoarders 2045.

Oh, the drama.

The excitement. 

 Yes, that is my cutlery drawer. Cutlery. What a funny word. 

Anywho, I bought the fancy red stuff months and months and months ago and, quite contrary to my usual way, it sat on the counter for, like, ever. The problem was, I knew it would not fit in the drawer. And it does not. Still, since I took the bold, bold move of unwrapping it and washing it (a 3-day snowed-in weekend will drive you to these things), I now need to solve this. 

Cue The Container Store! Hooray, hooray!

I mean, really, if The Container Store were closer to me, I'd probably need a 12-step program. Luckily, it's way over the other side of town in one of those Boston "can't get there from here" places. Well, you can get there, but you have to go a really weird way that involves both Harvard and Boston College. And, for some reason, passing both of those in the same trip just makes it seem really far. Toss in Mary Baker Eddy's house and you might as well be Amundsen.

More luck for me? I get the catalog. At work - thus saving it from JWH's frantic mail sort where he piles up all the good mail and the junk mail. Mind you, he does not take the good mail up to the office, or toss the bad mail or the empty envelopes into the recycling. But he does make 2, sometimes 3, piles spread out all over the kitchen island. So there is that great service he provides.

Back to the catalog. I find it a little uninspiring an clinical, frankly. I think they need a new photographer. One who can inject a little mood into the shots. Some shadow, some life. But, this time I stopped and actually considered my options, since, you know, I have the the cutlery situation to contend with. And, in the end, I found that the website is nice and informative and they have chat, which I always like. So I ordered these:

(The Container Store)

But, not before whipping out InDesign and doing up a little plan of attack:

Oh, don't be shocked. I warned you of the drama, the excitement...

Things I do. The every day edition.

1. Stay in bed until the last possible possible second.
2. Stay in bed 3 minutes beyond the point above.
3. Do that turn and look at my own ass in the mirror move that JWH hates so much.
4. Think about leaving my ginormous purse in the car at school drop off, and decide that while it's not likely to be stolen on that tony block, if it were I'd be terminally mortified by the other parents seeing me in a state of distress/with a broken car window. 
5. Daydream.
6. Work.
7. Give someone under the age of 25 some salient advice (Today: When someone is rude at work and you are flummoxed and unsure of the power dynamic, have a stock response ready, like, "I can't believe you just said that to me," or "I'm not sure talking to me like that will get us to a better place in this particular situation." It will tell them they were wrong, give them a chance to apologize, and does not lead to a rehash of the particulars of what they said. Yesterday: "If your BF shaved his mustache, you'd be 60% hotter as a couple." See...wide range of topics...)
8. Read Thought Catalog and think about how much that would have been my jam if it had existed in 1995.
9. Be grateful Thought Catalog did not exist back then, or else all the shit I said online (alt.) would be a lot easier to access.
10. Run on a treadmill.
11. Listen to The Airborne Toxic Event. 
12. Think, "Hey, I should call JWH, I have not talked to him today."
13. Fail to call JWH because in reality I hate talking on the phone, but spend several minutes thinking about what a great guy he is. (awwwww)
14. Wonder who someone at work is. Like the girl who sits directly outside my office. No idea.
15. Hug my kid, lie down in her bed with her at bedtime and think how insanely gorgeous she is and how lucky I am.

Mimi, how do I love thee.

Mimi Smartypants. That is. Even when she is a little scattered (or perhaps not scattered enough) I get a full-on chuckle out of her posts every time. 

This time, it was a bit about floral, quilted purses. She called them "bonerkillers." Not a word I'd use, per se, but apt all the same.

You know the purses, the Vera Bradley or whatnot. 

I mean, really people. It's a quilt, and what about a quilt makes you think, "hey, that would be great to carry around!"Not waterproof, not wipe-clean, not classy, not red (as I believe 90% of all purses should be). And, yes, I will agree, with Mimi that the very act of carrying a purse like this sends a very loud signal. 

The signal? It says, quite clearly, I might add, one or more of the following:

• I am post menopausal.
• I see bed as a place to enjoy a snack and a show on the telly.
• I have a minivan.
• I shop at TJMaxx and am elated when I get the Maxx for the Minimum. 
• I wonder when acid-wash is coming back, because I have some of that shit.
• My top priority is comfortable shoes and I fail to see how this is a bad thing in any way.
• I have been married so long my husband is like a roommate who's laundry I  inexplicably do.
• I can name more than one scrapbooking stores or sites.
• My keychain is 20% keys, 80% dangly shit.
• I am the Pandora jewelry target customer. 
• I have no idea that Holiday had to put "jewelry" in the last bullet to clarify that she was not talking about music. 

See? I'm snarky today. 

But really, if you don't read Mimi Smartypants, then I'm not sure we can be friends. There are a lot of bloggers I read and I'm pretty sure I'd hate 90% of them in real life. They are too nice, too Christian, too mommiegh - for me. Not that niceness, Christianity or being a great parent are bad things, mind you, but if I'm going to spend time with a human who is not my family I need them to laugh at my sarcastic jokes, not mind my potty-mouth, point me in the direction of a good martini, and, oh, just not have a Pandora bracelet. Please, just...no.

Off the curtain thing for a while...

But still in the Bun's room - we made another little tweak while we were in there with the drill already. 

See, the Bun got a necklace for Christmas. A real big-girl piece of jewelry. And she adores it. She wears it every day and puts it in a little ceramic pot at night. Easy-peasy.

But then my dear mother, not to be outdone, perhaps, got her three more necklaces for her birthday. Three. 

The ceramic pot was a tangled mess every morning. What to do, what to do? My dear child looked to me for an answer and I wracked my brain. 

I came up with this:

Two bunny-shaped ceramic knobs that I got at Anthropoligie last year for $2.99 each. JWH used a toggle bolt and we put them on the wall in her closet above the hamper. Totally accessible, totally out of the way. 

She now chooses her own jewelry each morning. Like I needed that?!?!

Partial reveal.

I told you yesterday that I would share pics of the new curtains. Well, as I mentioned from the get-go, I had a pretty good idea that the in-stock 84" long panels would not cut it. And they did not. So, while I was able to choose panels with this little experiment. And get the Bun's "I love them!" buy-in. And I was able to get the rod placement locked down. All well and good. 

But, for pictures all I have now are these (cropped, instilled on one window only) fakey-fakes, because I am waiting with baited breath for the custom length version of these suckers to come from good 'ol Country Curtains.*

*Country Curtains! Who would have ever thunk it! I'm hardly country. I am also hardly rock and roll. Although I gave that one a solid try on or about 1993...

 

Yesssss! (i.e. small accomplishments)

It's that part of winter where I feel like I just hate my house. Like it's dirty and worn out and dark. 

Hence all my curtain shenanigans of late. My list of things to do in 2013 included a little refresh of the dining room and the Bun's room, and although she, in no uncertain terms, hated the idea of swapping out her rug, she did agree to new curtains. And, really, I was happy to let it go at that. See, her curtains were another place where I was really violating my own rules. As someone with actual, stated, "curtain rules," you'd think I'd have fewer "sins" around the house. But, no, I am my own worst offender. My mother would tell you that from birth I was pretty much able to tell you the rules, but I rarely thought that meant I had to follow them. 

And so it is with curtains. I may know how they are supposed to be, but just like anyone else, I suffer from lack of time, money and inspiration. I'll also throw in that it's a matter of priorities and timelines. Curtains can make the room feel finished, but if you are not sure on the room color or the rug or the overall use of the room, it's hard to put the time and money into making curtains "just right." Even off the shelf curtains do not come out of the package and go up perfectly. There is always length and rod placement to contend with. And, at least for me, those things tend to evolve as the rest of the room comes together. I tend to be a bit of a hack, using curtains I have on hand and swapping those around, pinning them up or using rings to drop them down...and living with them for a bit. Half the time they work out and I hem them and keep them (like the ones in my dining room, which I love and would work any repainting around...), and half the time I move them again (liek the guest room ones that became the office ones and the living room ones that became the mud room ones and on and on and on).

So, the Bun's room. Well, earlier this week I told you all about how to install drapery hooks and to use the better kind of rings for a more finished look...and here I will confess that in the Bun's room I had drapery hooks and I did not use them. Or at least not properly. See, the curtains would have been too long if I used rings, and I just did not have it in me to send all 8 panels out for hemming an inch off the bottom. So? (cue the red face) I hung the drapery hooks smack over the rod. Yep. Call me a redneck if you want, but that's what I did. You could not really tell:

But you could tell that the drapes are actually 5" too short! The rods really should have been up at the top of the moulding. Ugh. I know, I know, so bad. This house has gorgeous, tall windows and I have tried placing rods all over them and I think I have finally found the right placement. Dear god, I hope so. I have tried "to the ceiling" I have tried all places in between the ceiling and the moulding. I have tried all over the moulding (made more complicated in some rooms because the moulding abuts a corner or a pipe and you can't go right where you want...). And I have landed, in some cases, with an "align the rod at top of moulding" rule. I tried that here and it was a no-go. Why? Because we were cheating a bit on the width (the "wide" of the "high and wide" movement, where you put your rods outside the window so the curtains cover as little light-bringing-pane area as possible). See, due to the corners, I could only go wide on one side. So, the top would be uneven. Meaning I had to cover all moulding or else reveal my trick. Meaning the tops of the curtains had to cover the corner bits of the moulding. Meaning that unless I wanted to go rod-pocket style hanging, I would have to mount the rod above the mounding, so that the curtains (on rings*) would hang to cover the moulding. You follow? No? See here:

Visually it works for me. At least for now. So, after all that, I owe you pictures of the new look in the Bun's room. Tomorrow. 

Promise.

 

*Indeed, on rings and clips! I know, I know, I spent a whole day lecturing you on getting rid of the clips in your life. But, really, these curtains were too thin for the drapery hook treatment. And though I tried it, and tried hanging them rod pocket, I ended up with rings and clips. It lets them hang the way I want, and move the way I want. So be it. And, as a bonus, the clips being the same color as the curtain stripes means they are less noticeable. I still stand by using drapery hooks in actual, quality lined drapes, though. Represent!

Is this really a thing?

On an online forum I read sporadically there was recently a little tussle. A disagreement, really, over the proper behavior of guests. I was on side B, side A was the majority. Let me tell you the scenario and see if you agree with me or those batshit crazy women (kidding, kidding.)

See, there was this girl, let's call her Jane. And, Jane apparently has major cash. To the tune of her dad "lending us his jet" and her mom shelling out for hotels and Broadway tickets to a group of 9 gals. Jane, her sis, and the mom and some sundry pals of each. Then, one day, one of Jane's invited besties, let's call her Sara, sent an email.

Dun, dun, dun! (Law and Order, y'all!)

The email said that she had a friend, Jenny, who lived in NYC and she hoped to see when they were there and that she'd be happy to bring her to the show (and pay for her ticket, if desired) or meet her another time for a coffee. 

Oh, and there was hell to pay! The ladies all chimed in with what amounted to:

• How dare she ditch you!
• Thoughtless bitch!
• She just saw Jenny a few months ago, she's totally using you for a free trip!
• OMG, no way did she say that?!?
• If she's not going to spend time with you why is she going?!?

Ummm, really? Grown woman going to a major city for a weekend with 8 other people and the idea of ducking out for a coffee with someone else is a bad thing? One woman called it "shunting her aside." Umm, insecure much? They went on and on using analogies such as "it's like this were a wedding and she was like 'oh, my friend lives right near the reception hall, she can pay you for her plate if you need her too.'" to "it's like a date where you say to the guy, 'great, let's have dinner, but I'm bringing Sally, too.'"

Um, no. And no. It's 9 grown women spednign multiple nights in a hotel and seeing a goddamned Broadway show! There is singing, poeple, this is light, this is air, this is inconsequential!

But I found myself in the minority...

I thought at first I might not fully understand their objection, so I said, "would you object to Sara asking if she could book some time at the spa during the weekend?" Nope. No objection. That was seen as pampering time and heads nodded approvingly, even, at the thought of taking some time for herself, you know. But, switch coffee with Jenny for spa and, wham! People were all feeling ditched, deserted, slapped in the face. 

Hmm. Is this a girl thing for which I am not equipped? Are girls only supposed to be friends with one person at a time. If you are actively being friends with one person and then, I dunno, have lunch with another person mid-friending, is this an act of defiance?

I then made some remarks about the money aspect, like did Jane think that becasue she paid for the trip, she got to decide the agenda? And it was well agreed that as the host she did get to play the decider and that as the guest, it was Sara's job to buck up and shape up. Wha? Sure, the hostess could take the email and reply with some outlines of what was expected, or even say that the agenda was quite full and she was not sure where Jenny would fit. And she could certainly decline to have her come to the show. But to be mad if Sara meets Jenny for a coffee in the lobby while you are in the shower? Really? That is a thing that people do?

I suggested, without much support, that if I took a bestie on a trip to see a show and in the hours before our outing, for which we had no set plans, he/she indicated that they'd like to go for a run, watch a movie, have a Grindr hookup, learn to play the mandolin, ice skate, meditate...well, what the fuck? Your time, your life. If they ditched me for the show, yeah = pissed. If they disappeared for hours and I was left wondering or worrying = also pissed. But emailing me months in advance about potentially seeing Jenny? That does not equal any parts of piss.

There is but one answer for this whole thing really, "Sure, great, hope you can fit it in, we'll talk more when it's closer about everyone's schedules. Say hello to Jenny for me." 

Grace, people, it's called Grace. 

And maybe a dash of self-confidence, dare I say it?

 

Art.

JWH and I have this running dialog about the fact that we don't need a heckuva lot more stuff. The Sonos speakers I got for Christmas are great, don't get me wrong, and he can knock off the next few holidays by adding a few more to the house...but the general gist of it is, by age, ehhhmm, 40, you tend to have all you really need.

But, holidays persist.

So we vouched to try to buy each other "experiences." One year for my birthday JWH took me to see my all time favorite band, for instance. Yay! So much fun. He then took me to Bermuda. Double yay! For his birthday I threw him a surprise party. See, all nice, and not a bit of additional clutter in the house. 

But not wholly sustainable. At least not the parties and the Bermuda parts. Concerts, sure. Dinners? Yes. Maybe a weekend in New York? Sure. Now and then.

So this year I went in a new direction and got him some art for Christmas. Just small, nothing crazy. Even with the framing (which is always so crazy), it's still not a family heirloom. But, I kind of had the bug. Art is a good gift. I know he wants more "real" art. 

It went over well. I'd guess he rates it as a B or B+ gift. But, if I were to go further, like into real, real art...well with the investment, it had better earn and A+ grade. But how do you do that? Art is subjective, and non-returnable. It's easy enough to see something and think "yeah, he will like that." But to pull the trigger is hard. Very hard. Do I risk it all and end up with an expensive flop (and a framed thing cluttering the house, oh, horrors!)? Dither and miss the chance? Walk away? 

Well, last week I had to decide. I saw something. I thought he'd love it. It was limited edition. It was accessible, at least for now...so I sent an email. I did not give him the name of the artist (step away from the Google), or the price point, but I showed him a few images. These:

(I'm not linking because I do not want him Googling, behave, JWH, if you want artist info, and are not JWH, comment or email me.)

In the end, he liked it (the one I thought he'd like, not the one I liked). And in the end, I will decide over the coming months if I will get one for him. The artist knows I'm interested and promises a chance to purchase before she goes dormant.

So a half surprise? Maybe he will forget and I will get it and he will be delighted? Maybe he will covet it and be sad that it's not under the tree? No one knows for sure. 

Maybe there is a better way, altogether?

Dunno. If you know. Tell me.

Drapery wha?@?!??

So, I was telling a friend about my new drapery hooks. Yeah, I do go on in real life about curtain hardware, just like I do here...

Anyway, she was quite honest in her admission that she had no idea what the hell a drapery hook was. So, dear friends, in case you did not know how to make the 'ol switch from clip rings (or pole pocket or whatever) to real-legit drapes on rings, here ya go:

1: get rings that have either a fixed perpendicular ring, like these (called eyelet rings):

Or, if you are made of cash and want to go all Pottery Barn, get these:

2: get some Drapery Hooks - a whopping $1.99 for 14 at BB&B. This is a drapery hook:

3: watch this YouTube video on how to put it all together

4: rehang your drapes to look like this:

not this:

 

And there you go. Probably my advice is 80% correct, and there are people who may know what certain hooks and rings are best for certain things. Pinch-pleats, for instance, get a different hook. But, whatever, dudes, my goal here is just to help y'all make the most of the drapes you've got. Now, go forth and hook.

Ha! When was the last time someone told you to do that?!?!

Curtains of all kinds!

The ticking stripe curtains are not the only drapery drama going on over here these days. In getting ready to properly hang those new puppies, I also got on with cleaning up some another drapery-related travesty. I have been known to rail on and on at others about curtain length and rod placement. And, yet, I have evidence of many of these same sins in my own home. I am here now to confess that for 4 solid years now, my living room curtains have hung from rings with clips on them. Really.

Now, by the number of clip rings you see on the shelf at Bed, Bath & Beyond, you'd think the clip ring was a perfectly fine method to hang curtains. Well, they do have their purpose - like perhaps a way to see if your 84" curtains can really be made to work, when really what you should have bought is a 96" panel, but you had not yet learned to hem things and you were really overwhelmed by curtain choices and ended up moving the ones you bought for one room into another room and you needed rings to make it work, like, at all. How was that for a one sentence summary of where I was at in the living room?

Anyway, the clip rings worked, they allowed the 84" panels to skim the floor as they should. Fine. Done. Only I never meant to leave them like that for so long. And now, lo and behold, I have remedied the sitch by purchasing actual drapery hooks and rings to go with those. 

Behold, the somewhat shameful (if not simply lazy) before:

And the much better, really, after:

Duh. It was not hard, why did it take me 3 years?! I dunno, nobody's perfect.

Who's the boss here?

Well, perhaps it ain't me. The rug thing is dead. The kid vetoed my choices and made a firm case for standing pat on the current rug. She did, however, agree to consider new curtains. 

I took that opening and showed her this old post/picture:

(The Boo and the Boy)

She initially said, and I quote, "Mama, you just do not know what I like!" Ummmm, shut up, kid. 

But then I talked her into it. I told her we could order them and try them out...and she softened. So off I went to the computer. Where I had a very nice online chat with "Hugh" from Pottery Barn. He informed me that I could order the panels at full price if I called. Then, if I did not like them in person (or a certain 6-year old did not like them), I could return them. If I did like them, I simply had to call in for a price adjustment. Bang! Nice! Yay!

And then I called in to try to get this to happen. Nuh-unh. Nope. No way. The not-nearly-as-nice-as-Hugh women on the phone told me that there was no way in hell I could do that. These suckers were final sale. Who the hell buys $500 worth of final sale curtains? Not me. 

So I steamed a bit and then today I surfed and found these:

(Country Curtains)

and these (2 pics to show you the style and the color since they had no pic of the red in the panel, I will never have a cafe curtain in my home - ever):

 

(Country Curtains)

And I discovered that Country Curtains will sell you custom length curtains, too. So if these are too short, which I think they will be, I can decide if I want, say, 85" long panels and I can get that for $89 a pair. A pair, people. Two for less than the price of one Pottery Barn panel. 

Bang! Nice! Yay!

So, 2 sample sets coming right up. We will hang, decide, pick a custom length and live happily ever after.*

 

*Dear JWH,

You so kindly responded to yesterday's post offering to help with #7. I will also need your help moving the curtain rods in the Bun's room up. They are embarassingly low. I'm sure you understand the need to make this a top priority, and since the Pat's lost, you have nothing else to do anyway.

Thanks in advance,

Your Lovely Wife

Happy New Year peeps!

Yes, I am fully aware that is mid-month. I've been a tad busy at work. I helped throw a party. And it was (now pretend you are Barney Stinson and say it with me)...Legen...dary. 525 people dancing, screaming, throwing moss ball. "Moss balls" is fun to say, no? Let's just say it involved ordering 40' of astroturf, a headless horseman ice luge and costumes. JHW said it was like going to a "party like they show on tv and you scoff and say, 'no parties look like that in real life.'" Oh, yeah!

Anyhow...

I shared a things-I-want-to-get-done list with you in 2011. And then in 2012 I came clean on my, overall pretty good, completion rate. And then there was the 2012 list in that post, too. Here it is again:

1. Get a plasterer to smooth the ceilings in the dining room and living room
2. Remove the old smoke detector bracket on the stair landing and spackle the holes
3. Fix the giant crack in the master bedroom ceiling
4. Repaint the ceilings in the LR, DR, stair landing, and kitchen (this is kind of an obvious follow up to the items above)
5. Refinish the antique desk
6. Fix the gutters (we had them looked at, and they need minimal work, but I'd like to get it done!)
7. Repair and touch up the trim up at the eaves of the house (again, we have a quote, just waiting for spring!)
8. Replace the mailbox
9. Add landscape lighting to the walkway
10. Remove the space heater from the back hall wall
11. Finish the vanity project in the hall bath
12. Sunroom to mudroom conversion
13. Re-tile the 2 bathtub surrounds
14. Put a new toilet in the hall bath
15. Replace the window in the dining room

And then, you may remember this post...(if you don't feel like clicking, let me just tell you it was about the poltergeist that ran through my home on 2012 and cost us shitloads of money.) At the time of the post I was wailing about the 2 plumber visits for the master bath and the tv and the water heaters. At that point I revised the list to:

1. Remove the old smoke detector bracket on the stair landing and spackle the holes
2. Fix the gutters 
3. Repair and touch up the trim up at the eaves of the house 
4. Replace the mailbox
5. Finish the vanity project in the hall bath
6. Put a new toilet in the hall bath
7. Replace the window in the dining room

Well, let me tell you, that early in the year poltergeist stuck around. 2012 was the year of broken shit. The plumber was called back again when water was actually dripping from the 2nd floor landing light fixture, and the gutter thing mentioned so casually as number 6 above? Ha! And number 7? Ha, again! The fascia board was rotted full out around the house and had to be replaced with engineered wood and repainted. And the gutters? Dear lord, the gutters...that was a battle. It ended well, with lot's of shiny new wood...and an empty savings account. Oh, gotta love the projects that have to be done but not one person can actually see or notice that they have been done. Trust me, no one stands on the stairs to the 3rd floor and look lovingly out at the new wood in the mud room gutters and sighs resignedly. No one except me, that is...

So, here is what actually got done:

1. Remove the old smoke detector bracket on the stair landing and spackle the holes
2. Fix the gutters
3. Repair and touch up the trim up at the eaves of the house 
4. Finish the vanity project in the hall bath
5. Sunroom to mudroom conversion (here, here, here, here and again here)

I actually did a lot of other things, too, but this is about accounting, not about patting myself on the back. And now, on to 2013. A year when I will just take it as it comes and if I get any of this done I will say hurrah to that and pour myself a drink.

1. Trim the trees (this has to be done to protect the damned gutters!)
2. Replace the windows in the sun room (this is a must do, second priority to the trees)
3. Get a plasterer to smooth the ceilings in the dining room and living room
4. Fix the giant crack in the master bedroom ceiling
5. Replace the mailbox
6. Add more landscape lighting to the walkway
7. Remove the space heater from the back hall wall
8. Put a new toilet in the hall bath
9. Refresh the kid's room
10. Refresh the dining room (maybe with paint or a new light fixture. I'm just not loving it right now)
11. Paint stripes in the other front hall closet. I only did one in October. The other one is still sad and grey.

I honestly know this all will not happen. Lack of proper funding and lack of enough hours in the day. But here's to dreaming and doing a little bit here and there when I can. 

About that thing I bought...

JWH was tasked with picking it up after Saturday am yoga. And he barely objected. Something about feeling badly about his schedule's impact on my sleep this week, perhaps. But, he did also state that he had no idea what I could do with the "thing."

So, dear man, here are some inspiration photos:

(Apartment Therapy)

 (Design Public)

 (The Yellow Cape Cod)

(The Boo and the Boy)

 

(Everything Etsy)

(life as we know it)

Of course, there is one inspiration image that I have in my head that I cannot find online anywhere. Somewhere among the blogs I read is a picture of one of these type trays or sorting racks mounted on a wall above a small white, round (I think), dining table. I could have sworn it was an Apartment Therapy post on storing kid's collections and that, at the time, I scoffed at for including a dining room/kitchen photo with the kids rooms ones...but, I may have made that whole thing up in my head.

I do that.

 

I bought a thing.

On a whim. Despite telling JWH to curb his overall spending.

I'm like that.

I bought it because every time I see a picture of a house that has something like this I'm all like, "geez, where did they get that?"

It's this:

I plan to paint it, at least the outside. And I plan to either put it in the dining room above the (still sad) buffet, or in the Bun's room, perhaps over an eventual big girl desk. Not 100% sure, really, but just that I like it and I fee like it's right for our home somehow.

It's apparently quite heavy so you can grimace now, JWH because we will be hauling this thing all over the house. Ye-ah!

The rug thing.

Yes, it's now a thing. I'm noticing rugs all over the place. And starting to think about suggesting to the newly 6-year-old Bun that her room needs a refresh. A big-girl room. Thinking the rug and the curtains are the main issues. This will be an uphill battle as this kid likes things JUST THE WAY THEY ARE, thank you very much.

Here I mentioned a rug. 

I will tell you now that I do not have those balls. 

Just don't. So here is where I'm at now. 

(Garnet Hill)

Wish me luck as I present this to Her Majesty and then troll like hell for a sale. 

 

 

Obsess much?

For, like, years now I have been dancing around the issue of the furniture in the dining room. The table is grand, the console is fine, the buffet (generous use of that word)...sucks. 

You may remember here that I talked about options. 

Well, just last week I happened to sit at the table and face the current (bad) situation, head on, so to speak. And I'm inspired to put this back at the top of the pile. The pile being the 2013 wish list. I still owe you a 2012 full accounting. (It's not pretty.)

So, what say you to this idea:

or, this one:

Many steps to go between this and buying one...but thought you'd like to know where my head is at.

A bold idea.

(Rugs USA)

What do you think? For the Bun's room. 

I'm kind of into it. The bed quilt might have to go, or at least go under a duvet or something. But, as a transitioning out of little girl-room bold step?

Hmm, I will be thinking about this...With the Wild Aster walls...it could be kind of awesome. If it's soft. I wonder if it's soft? Her current rug is Pottery Barn kids and it's kind of dirty. We have had it cleaned, of course, but it's still kind of dirty. And sometimes sheddy. 

But this would be a departure for me. Bold.

 

 

London cabbies.

Did you know that cab drivers in London take some huge test and are supposed to know where every single thing is? I mean, it's a big city! And an old one - so, you know, tons of winding streets. I swear, there is no such thing as a "straight line" way to get anywhere. So, if this test thing is legit, I'm impressed.

How did I hear about the test? Well, I stumped a London cabbie, that's how. The dude was seriously distressed, too. I, being from Boston, where you are lucky if your cabbie speaks English, and it's a bonus if he also knows how to get to your destination (Want proof? Just today we got in at the Park Plaza Hotel and said "Broad St." and the guy was like, "where??" Ugh. Seriously, dude?" These are the basics...) well, I just expected the cabbie to pull up a GPS. NBD.

But it was a big deal, the guy unfurled a map and apologized profusely and told me all about the test. 

Where was I trying to go? Well, I was at the London Zoo and I needed to go - here:

The King Edward VII Hospital. A very, very, very unassuming place in terms of curb presence (see that little brass plaque on the right? That's all there is to tell you that this door is not just an apartment building). And, as we were there I totally joked that it was more like a country club than a hospital. It was like, club chairs in the rooms and paintings of royals on the walls and "nurses" who offered you a drink if you were sitting in the lounge looking bored. I imagined there was a back door for secret access by the rich and famous needing to enter discreetly and convalesce from their nose jobs. Oh, how right I was!

Not about the nose job, perhaps, but about the secret back entrance, since Kate up there probably did not look so grand when arriving post three-days-of-vomiting. Hell, I am mighty impressed that she's in a skirt upon discharge. I tend to leave hospitals looking a tad worse for wear. 

But, I'll bet all the cabbies know where it is now!

Merry Christmas to me.

We have a rule around here: no buying things for yourself in the holiday season. And, due to JWH's late November birthday, that pretty much means he is cut off from consumption around mid October. So when I come home on an autumn evening and see a box from Amazon and some new book or gadget for the husband, I lose my shit. I'm all like, "Dude, you know the rule!" And he's all like, "lady, chill, it was $14!" But deep down, he knows I'm right. It's not the 14 bucks, it's the fact that he's hard to shop for, so if there is something he wants, and will use, and he can just hold out for 6 weeks so that my mom can buy it for him, put it in a "very nice box" and wrap it artfully, with all edges folded, of course, then he is the one who needs to chill. 

This is our rule. 

The rule that I broke this week with the ordering of an iPhone 5 for my little self. Do I feel guilty? No. No one is going to buy me an iPhone for Christmas, because, as we found out, you can't. JWH tried to get one for me at the mall recently, but even though he is my legal spouse, was in possession of my only child, and has a phone on the same account and access to the online account...well that is all not good enough for Apple. You need to be there to get your own damned phone. Which of course they were out of when I next made it to the mall. 

Ugh. 

So, I ordered it. And, more to breaking of the holiday non-shop rules, I also ordered 2 cases. Two. While my iPhone 3G remained blissfully caseless, unsheathed, recklessly free for 4 years (and, oh, yes, it's pristine, thank you very much), the 5 will get some protection. See, the 3G was so perfectly weighted, the backing so finely grippy, yet smooth enough to easily slide into a pocket (Insert here JWH's advice for the women of the world: "Do not put your phone in your back pocket, it makes your ass look bad."*). Anyway, the 4 and 5 models of the iPhone are hard to hold. The aluminum shell or whatever the hell it is, is just plain old droppy. So I need to case that sucker. 

Here are the 2 I ordered. One is cool and minimalist, the other is, well, protective. If you are going to completely cover up all the industrial design coolness of the actual device, you might as well cover it up in something that will protect the device from more than just scratches. 

(Quirky)

(Amazon)

*The asterisk is because I do, indeed, still put my iPhone in my back pocket. At work, almost every day. And thanks to JWH I now think, every time I do it, that now my ass must look like utter shit. And then I remember that I'm at work and my ass is hardly the point. They value me for my brain and my uncanny ability to get shit done. Like now, when I must leave you all and go see about ordering a 10 foot topiary and constructing an indoor croquet court. Easy shit like that. With my phone in my damned pocket.

Well, aren't you nice.

For a spammer, or a bot, or a person learning English via blog commenting. Who, you ask? This guy:

"I know there are many good writers out there, but you really stand out from the crowd. I had to let you know how much I appreciate the info you have in this material. Thanks."

So polite, so thoughtful. Awwww, you shouldn't have. 

Especially in response to a post about pretty pillows where I  wrote something like 55 words. These words:

"Lately I have been seeing a lot of blogging about pillows. Specifically, not-too-expensive pillows. Perhaps I'm not the only decor enthusiast who is not willing to even consider shelling out $300 for a throw pillow?

So, I'll admit, some posts have led to click-throughs, and these were my favorite shops for not-crazy-priced pillows."



Or, how about this nice fellow:

"The quality of this article is unsurpassed by anything else on this subject. I guarantee that I will be sharing this with many other readers."

Totally restorative and inspiring feedback...to a post about the dress my kid wore to her first day of Pre-K.

Look out, world, I'm apparently a real good writer now!

 

And, if, indeed, you are a real person - lost among the amazing amounts of spam I seem to suddenly attract in my comments (or people with really good access to prescription drugs are just hot to share with y'all) - well, then, I am sorry for unjustly accusing you of spamminess. Drop me a line and we can talk all things textile and childrearing.

 

One little hint.

See that bottom right corner there in this picture?

What is it? Next to the step stool, below the coat?

Here is a hint:

Errol Flynn H-------, aka, "Flynnie"

Oh, and do not worry, dear Indigo, we still think of you often. You remain the "best cat ever," but this one, so far, does not steal food. But he is also not as soft. So, you may well end in a tie.

Oh, I'm on a roll.

This is what happens when you manage to actually take the photos off the camera and even remember to put them on a flash drive. 

Crazytown.

Behold my mudroom:

I've added a few pillows since, but, let's not wait for that photo to make it online anytime soon...but really, the main gist is that I moved to bench into the corner. Oh, and I made JWH cut the legs down so it's now bench-height and nt media-center-height. And,. since it's n the corner, it needed to be corner-shaped, or, you know, everything would just nd up n the floor behind it.

This was actually really easy. I bought a piece of MDF at Home Depot, cut off the corners and did a dry fit:

Then, I bought a few brackets at the hardware store and attached the new piece to the back of the unit:

Then, I wedges a few 2 x 4s into the corners to give it a little more support:

It's hard to see, but without them, the stress on the brackets was a bit much and it drooped:

With the supports, it's fully able to hold the weight of a kid and, really, mostly the back just holds pillows, since, you know, it's a media console and quite, quite deep:

Now I just need new (insulated, double pane) windows. 

Sigh.

I know it's past Thanksgiving.

But, travel with me back to Halloween. And the hurricane that hit just beforehand. Many, many people were inconvenienced by the storm - I was not. They cancelled work, they cancelled school, and we had not even enough wind to get the leaves off the trees for raking. We did lose power for a bit - just long enough for the Bun to be delighted by her first candle-lit dining experience (mac and cheese, we still had gas).

So, what did I do with a day off? 

I painted one of the hall closets. See, we have two that flank the front door. (The spider is awesome, no?)

The doors are lovely. The interiors? Meh. One has hooks:

One has a a rather droopy rod:

And, now, one has stripes!

Next up, the other one gets the stripey treatment. And then, someday I'm going to take off the hooks and paint them bright orange. Not kidding. The droopy rod will also be addressed. It bugs me. Gotta love projects that no one ever sees...

OMG.

Should I buy it? Or re-buy it as the case may be...

 

Well hello there.

Wherein I complain and then brag.

How to do both in in one sentence?

"I have been so busy lately, but at least my Christmas shopping is done."

Bang. So busy, I, and yet so, so, incredibly efficient. Yay, me! But really, no, it's a disease. Normal people do not have spreadsheets for shopping and do not start buying things months in advance. Normal people do not wrap things before Thanksgiving so they can be sent home with their parents to avoid having to carry too much on actual Christmas. Normal people probably "enjoy" the holidays more, too, or experience them. I hide and avoid malls and such. Truly. Hate the music.

I do need to go on ONE small foray. I need a My Little Pony Coloring book. Yep, my spectacular kid wants Santa to bring her items totalling something in the range of $3.99. Let this last, oh let this last. 

Seen any Pony coloring books around? Preferably inoffensive ones that leave no hint that the MLP brand expends beyond the coloring books and the little plastic ponies? My child has no need of the knowledge of playsets or whatnot. That shit is banned from Holiday House, I tell you (JJH). You send it here and I will wait until she is asleep and fake an "accident" whereby it is destroyed by falling furniture, flooding, or feline interference (aka "blame the cat"). 

The other thing I will brag and complain about? I have to maintain the Amazon wish list for my non-reading child and my non-participatory husband, so I have to update it and monitor it constantly (to make sure there are items left in various price ranges, to make sure they get the things they really want, to delete items we get from other sources - Lego is Danish, did you know that? We are getting our Christmas Lego from Denmark, that's how fancy we are at Holiday House!). The upside of all this list management is that the Bun and JWH get all sorts of delightful and surprising gifts. Me? I get what I put on there and I know pretty much the instant it's bought. So, no surprises for me. Sad trombone.

Not that I want off-list swag. But, to make the list and then blissfully be unaware if any of it was purchased? This is the 21st century dream, I tell you.

 

Shut up and be happy about it.

So, I have reconfigured/rearranged the mudroom for some super maxed-out awesomeness. The pictures are taken...but still on the camera. So, soon...I swear. 

But, in the meantime I saw this:

(Better Homes and Gardens)

And, while I find the matching and playful placement of the dog food a bit twee, I like the vertical shelving on the right. An idea for my back entry? Hmmm. Or the wall next to the console table at the front door? Hmmm, again.

Never stop thinking about the next project...

 

Finding inspiration on the boob tube.

The TV, that is. 

The other day we were a little lazy and were watching football or something, eating guacamole and chips and apple pie for dinner...and this Home Depot commercial came on hailing us to get it going on with our projects. And, hello if they didn't show us one to get it on with. Painted stair risers. In Chevron, no less.

(Note that this picture is from the YouTube video, not the Home Depot How-To link at the end of the video - that one is too vertical a pattern. I aim for this in terms of proportion and angle.)

Now, you all know I am not a fan of the chev in general. It's done, I think. Over-used. But for a long skinny thing like a riser? The shape makes sense. And I have been lamenting the tired state of affairs that is our main stairs. So, it is ON. The paint and tape has been bought, the how-to video watched, the idea vetted by señor Holiday.

See the video here, and stay tuned here for details. Oh, and I might even go ahead and paint the closets (stripes) like I talked about a year ago.

 

 

This is what I have in mind.

(The Boo and the Boy)

It's a little messy for my taste, so it's not the overall room I like (oh, and I have a real thing against bunting of any kind...), it's the curtains. Of course it is. 

See, the Bun's room curtains are all wrong. Too short, too green, just, meh. I liked them when I got them but I should have ordered the 96" rather than the 80" and hemmed them to like 86" or something. But, when you move in to a house you get a little ahead of yourself sometimes. 

The ones I have, I will keep. I will get them cleaned and put them away for use some other time in some other house. They are nicely made and all that. But, I think the Bun's room needs a little curtain love. And the stripes above kind of won me over. I'm wondering if these, from Pottery Barn, might work:

(Pottery Barn)

Unfortunately, even on sale, they are $84 a panel, and I need 8 panels. Hmmm, maybe I will order two and see if I like it and then stalk the site for clearance sale? Once they go on super sale, it's all final sale/no returns. And who can buy curtains final sale? Not me. I need to see them in place, first. And, it seems, sometimes live with them for 4 years before I decide they are not quite right. Sigh.

You may have noticed.

If you are OCD, like me, you may have noticed that something else looked different in our tub.

The drain you see here is not the one I posed about here.

Why not? Because that repair that I crowed about was pretty short lived. It stuck for maybe 9 months. And then I shelled out my good hard-earned cash to Kohler for a whole new drain flap thingy. Yeah. And paid a plumber to install it. 

And then, in round 2 of our plumbing woes, see here and here, the guy just recommeneded we replace the entire, wonky, weird, clog-loving drain apparatus with the standard issue kind. I was so tired of plumbing issues I said "fine, just do it." And for like 60 bucks it was over. Just over. It's not all sleek and inset and such, but you know what? It holds water when closed! It drains water when open! These things are not to be underrated!

 

 

The story of the dotty shirt.

As promised yesterday. Here is the story of the dotty shirt. You are are actually part of the story, since it was with you that I shared my initial love of the shirt. Here it is again:

 

Ah. So pretty.

And, then, I even shared when I took initial blame for the loss of the shirt (actually, I was talking about a skirt, I had not yet noticed the loss of the shirt). See, I thought I was going all soft in the head. But nooo. Not me! The dry cleaners! They lost my clothes! After the skirt failed to reappear and then other things failed to re-appear...well, I finally put it together and called the dry cleaner. Did you know that they have a record of every item they pick up from you, by color, fabric and brand? (We get pick up and delivery, possibly the only good thing about suburban living.) Anyway, by the time I called, I had something like 9 missing items. Nine. Fuckers.

Lucky for them, they found all but three items (the skirt, a sweater and the dotty shirt). And for those they sent me a check. Small harm/minor foul.

But, picture this if you will: A few weeks after all this losing and reimbursing goes down, JWH and I pull into the garage and I remark, "oh, there's neighbor C wearing a shirt just like the one those fuckers lost." Oh, hahahaha. We laugh.

Fast forward another month or so and I get an email from neighbor C saying she had just dropped over a bag of JWH shirts that the dry cleaner left with them by mistake. "Oh, sorry," I say, "we have had a lot of trouble with them lately, they actually lost a bunch of my stuff in June." Oh, rly, she says. "By chance a striped sweater and a dotty shirt?"

No shit. 

Two days later the items arrive on my porch. Stripey sweater is in original dry-cleaned condition on hanger with tags, etc. Dotty shirt???? Oh. My. God. There is no way to adequately explain to you the vision of my $88, worn once, silk blouse hanging on a non-dry cleaner hanger - filthy, absolutely filthy. Like worn to weed the garden filthy. Worn a dozen times filthy. Worn by my neighbor. Returned by my neighbor. Filthy.

Who does that?!?!

 

People are crazy.

That's the refrain around here these days. And, oh, have I got evidence*, but really, that's not what this is about. It's about just getting over the fact that people are crazy, or stupid, or annoying and just dealing with it. Move along, folks, and get your shit done. Stopping and chatting about the failings of others is just a waste of my damned time.

And, lord knows, I have no damned time.

And, yet, here I am, sitting here typing to you when I could be at the gym or at home, or at least in the car on the way home, if not actually, realistically home. See, that's how my days go: I get up late, shower quickly, wake the kid, feed the kid, dress the kid, dress myself, drive to school, drop the kid, chat with some mommieghs, drive to work, manage the mutha-fuckin' shit out of some projects, hit the treadmill for 30 minutes, drive home, play with kid, make kid's lunch, read to kid, fall asleep next to kid, (fail to eat dinner), shower, and go to bed. 

And you wonder why I have been out of touch. Yeah. That.

But, you say, before you had time to look at pretty things on the internets and tell us repeatedly of your hatred of poorly hung curtains.

I know.

But there is a difference between physical busy-ness - oh, and that I certainly have got, see above daily timeline - and mental busy-ness. The latter one is the one that kicks your ass. When you don't get to surf the internets for pretty things, or sing songs in the car on the way home, or daydream on the treadmill - when all those times are filled up with making lists, checking things off lists and mentally reviewing the list of lists? Well, that's when you just gotta stop caring about the little shit. The lady next door stole your dry cleaning? Whatever. The asshat in account service wants to blow up the world because 241 of the 12,000 deliverables are 2 days late for an advertising campaign (read: sarcasm, we are not saving lives here). Again, whatever. 

People are dying here. Uncles, fathers-in-law, parents of friends. Suffering abounds. Hours go to sad phone calls and confusing texts. Hours go to Googling medical terms. Hours go to the damned lists.

People are crazy. Yep. Sure. Whatever.

 

*Oh, and I will share the neighbor dry cleaning story. Another time.

Halle-fricking-llujah.

The tile. It's in. No, it's not done. It will be grouted tonight, but then it will be too dark to take pictures, and I will be far to worn out anyway. I'm a bit triple booked, you see, and this tile thing had to be done today or wait until Halloween. I kid you not: the next free day we have is the weekend after Halloween.

Shoot me now.

So, we buckled down. We bought a smaller cold chisel and I got all up in there and got each "hole" perfectly scraped and sized to house a new tile. And, since every tile is a tad different, that meant I needed a system to remember what one went where and how it fit. Hence:

What? Don't all home improvers use a hot pink highlighter? Or is it just those of use with 5 year old assistants who were asked to "bring mama a marker?" JWH, this whole time, was off running 30 miles. 30. You read that right. His midlife crisis involves a 50 mile road race in a few weeks. Yeah. Better than a girlfriend, not as fun as a Porsche.

Anyway, the tiles above were numbered, as were their future homes:

See the little pink "4"? Yeah. So cute.

When JWH finally did get home, and express his sympathy over my mashed finger (ouch!) we hit it with the quick set. And, it was, actually, quick! In about 10 minutes we beheld this glory:

The fit of the tiles was so good in some places that we did not even need spacers, other spots we used them just in case things got a little droopy. And, while is is a bit discouraging to still have the 5 fish tiles, and this:

But, we did the best we could*, this project nearly killed us! I am glad to be rid of the sad sand dollar, the turtle playing volleyball and the 4 others which are slipping from my memory as we speak (see them here, and here), but dear god, do not try this one at home!

 

 

*We had such a hard time chipping out the tiles, and damaged some other, good, blue tiles in the process (one so badly it had to be removed and replaced), that we decided not to risk chipping out the hideous clam near the granite shelf. The spot was just too hard to get at, and the granite too expensive to replace if we damaged it, and the crease along there gets a lot of water pileup, so best not to mess with watever sealant or flashing situation is going on under there. Amiright?

You may have gathered...

From my last few posts, that the bathroom tile job has been a bit of a bear. Yeah, so, ...yeah...

It's been about 2 weeks that we have been trekking down to shower in the Bun's bathroom. It's not a bad shower, but the trek seems to add 10 minutes to my morning ablutions schedule. It's inexplicable, really, as it is only a floor away.

So, this weekend we will try to finish. Really. JWH seems dubious, at best, but since the next weekend we are in town and without commitment is October 27th, we have no choice. It's do or die time. We do have plenty of good and not so god excuses on why this stalled out. On the good: it was my birthday and JWH took me to Bermuda! Yay! On the not so good: JWH's dad had a stroke and we have had to make a few very expensive and tiring trips to the UK* to get him settled. Not that he is settled, mid you, but that has been our goal. 

Not so much hitting goals these days, now are we? Well, so be it. Sometimes life gets in the way of home improvement and blogging and sleep.

 

*The Bun has declared the Jubilee playground at the base of the London Eye as "the best playground in the world." So, if you find yourselves there, check it out. 

The (long awaited) paint job.

AKA, a bright spot on a dim week. You might be aware that my tile project is delayed. Not the typical delay, like we got busy or moved on to something else, but a new kind of delay, where it just takes freaking ages to get it done. 

So, while JWH chips away, quite literally, at the tile, I decided he'd like some mater bath solidarity/company and I painted while he chipped.

The Revere Pewter. 

It's lovely. 

It's like a grow up person's room all of a sudden. No more pale blue, no more shiny walls (I used Eggshell, the previous paint was semi-gloss, which I totally get in a bathroom as a deterrent to moisture, but it made my eyes itch.)

And, I know you are dying for confirmation on this: I now have a white ceiling. The "where to stop the wall color" debate had many answers, especially over the sink...but we landed here and it feels right. The straight vertical walls are all gray, the slanted walls are white. Over the sink the walls on the sides of the skylight opening are white (although they are straight verticals - call me a rule breaker). 

Let's note here, too, that this was all done without tape. I cut-in like a mutha. That's right. 

Curse you, John Petersik.

Okay, not really, but maaaaannnn has this tile been hard to get out! This is what you get after an hour of chipping with a hammer and chisel. And by "you" I mean JWH. Clearly. I whacked a tile with a hammer and the tile just laughed.

After another half hour of fine work, this is what you get.

So, after 2 hours of chipping and clanging and banging and just utter, utter filth. We are here:

To state the obvious...we have reconsidered the scope of this endeavor. We have scaled down to removing 6 tiles: the 6 most egregious (minus the clam - it stays even though it is most horrible...it's just too close to the granite to risk a chip) and leaving the others. So, goodbye to the sad sand dollar, the turtle playing volleyball, and their pals. Fishies, well, they will remain, but they are not awful, awful. Just awful.

Pretty things that I just might buy.

Curtains. I am notoriously indecisive about curtains. Real ones, made for you, all custom-like, are hella-expensive. And just such a commitment. Ugh. 

But the off the shelf jobbies, of varying quality, that I have hanging around the house. Well, some of them are just bugging me. The family room, and the kid's room, mainly. Not like bugging me so much that I am actively shopping, but back-of-the-head bugging me like I kind of always have half an eye out for an alternative. 

So, for the family room, what say you?

(Crate and Barrel)

Oh, and one more thing I might just buy, should it go further on sale? This:

(Pottery Barn Teen)

Yes, I troll Pottery Barn Teen. It's a good source for stuff that's not so baby-ish as PBKids and not so farmhouse-wannabe as PB regular.

 

 

More action taken!

Oh, yes, I am on a roll. And even though it appears that the folks at Young House love have lead me astray when it comes to how easy it is to remove a few wall tiles...well, I am trusting them again. 

See, they ordered this here rug for their kitchen. And I just ordered it for mine. In green.

(Young House Love)

(Urban Outfitters)

I am about 20% confident it will be okay. Reviews say it's thin...and it's really cheap. But, guh, the Flor tiles that I have never liked are kind of sucking my soul. They are dirty, and dull, and just blah. I need some color. But it is a kitchen, so really, it's not like anything I buy is going to last long term. It's going to be matted and dirty and gross. 

For the record, I did peruse the Dash & Albert cotton rugs. since they seem to be the go-to cotton utility rug among the stylish set (yes, I just put all those words together like that). But, meh, nothing really grabbed me. Too stripey. Too beachy. I did like the Dwell persimmon striped number below, but, too much orange with my lovely Wegners. If it were green I'd be all over that shit.

(dwellstudio)

Well, hello there.

Let's see. It's fall. And the Bun is in Kindy. And I'm not doing any traveling for a bit...well, maybe ONE more small trip, and then Columbus day we've got something cooking...but whatever. What I really mean to say is that we have started doing things again. Hooray for that. 

This past weekend we did what JWH likes to call "opening a can of worms." Yeah, we started a project that was meant to be like 4 steps and ended up being like, well...were not done yet. So, many, many steps. It's the master bath. The fishy tile. 

I'll share some in-progress pics later in the week. Let's just say it's a big 'ol mess. And while JWH chipped (okay, pounded) away at the marine life, I painted the walls as decided. Revere Pewter. It's lovely. I also did the ceiling, in white, and it's a good change. It needs a third coat, but, still, it's all good.

I learned a very important lesson, too. I hate painting ceilings. So the kitchen ceiling will be quoted with a professional. I just do not have that in me.

So, with travel and work and packing a lunch for the kid every night...well, we will call this a slow restart to fall house repair and clean up. But, it's a start all the same. I may even eventually hem those living room curtains...