Stuck Inside

 When Mother Nature isn't in sync with my preferences, I have to pivot.

In the last week, we went from subtle-but-unmistakable Signs of Spring to Winter on Reboot.  Alas.

Fortunately, there is always Art.  Art doesn't depend on the weather (like hiking) or seasons (like gardening) or holidays (like Turkey Day, Santa celebrations and Cupid extravaganza). Art can be anything, anytime.  

Christmas in a July heatwave. Tulips as leaves fall in October.   Ripe apples instead of February snowstorms.

My day could include loose sketching practice and watercolor giraffe caricatures,

 

followed by floral compositions as well as canine portraits, 

with thoughts on impressionistic landscapes and loose family portraits.

 Why not?!

Art is my creative playtime.  I'm not expecting masterpieces--heck, I'm not even expecting an occasional keeper.  I'm refining new skills, experimenting with new media, learning from new teachers.  

Sometimes failing.

 

Sometimes being surprised by the results.
 

Art is my ultimate coping mechanism when Mother Nature is on her own inscrutable timetable.

That and making lists of all the innumerable tasks any gardener faces as a new growing year approaches.   Ah, but that's a subject for a future post...

(I'm offering my very amateur doodlings in the spirit of real life with no filters. It's me, at this moment in time, knowing that I can only get better.  No living subjects were harmed in the creation of these drawings.)

March Goal, a Month of Posts

Posting each day?? A lofty goal since I've let my blog posts dry up for longer than I even want to know!

Today's word is "tenebrous".  Pretty much the way our skies have looked for the past couple of days as the storms rolled in.  Not today though!

 

Today's March came in with glorious sunshine and relatively warm temperatures considering that the tail end of February brought lavish amounts of snowfall to the Sierra Nevada.  So, I think I'm crediting March with a Lamb entrance even though there's snow piled up everywhere and icicles have made a drippy-droppy appearance.

Tonight the western sky is treating us to the sight of Venus and Jupiter "kissing".  It's a lovely way to end the day.

 

Thoughts from a girl with a leaf rake

I raked leaves today.  The sound a leaf rake makes is characteristic of autumn to me.  A metallic scratchiness as I gathered cherry leaves that fell today onto our brick patio.  Quieter on the lawn as I raked a random collection of leaves into a pile. When I switched from my metal rake to a slim rake with plastic tines as I attempted to clear apple leaves that have begun falling into the raspberry bed, it was so quiet that I could hear other leaves falling in the yard and a few swirls of leaves as the breeze moved them along paths predetermined by physics.  No power needed to fuel my rake beyond a few calories I could easily spare.  No blast of noise to be heard a block away.   

I raked leaves today.  Not for the first time this season.  These leaves are destined to be mulched and added to our compost pile.  All that energy wasn't going into body bags headed into the landfill.  These leaves were my yearly "brown" treasure to balance the "green" contribution to compost. Yeah, there were some bags that went curbside last week when the compost bin seemed full.  But a week and a soaking rainstorm has settled it enough that I can see there's room for more.  These leaves will become a rich, dark, organic addition spread throughout the yard next spring.  Magically, these apparently dead leaves will be transformed into white peonies, pink roses, tender lettuce, tart cherry tomatoes and fried zucchini slices. I don't have to do anything but put them in a pile.  Worms and bacteria will do the rest. 

I raked leaves today.  They weren't as pretty as the glowing orange leaves from the sugar maple so lovely that I took reference photos of them for a future watercolor painting.  The simple forms of the yellow-gold cherry leaves couldn't compete with the huge heart-shaped leaves from the redbud.  But there was one oak leaf easily as large as my footprint that steadfastedly refused to be added to any pile.  It was a nondescript simple unlovely brown escapee that seemed destined to reside in its own world quite separate from the smaller hawthorn and apple leaves. I was good with that.  The simple truth is that there will be more leaves to be raked.  I will have other chances to get every. single. leaf.  But not yet.  My garden looks like autumn, leaves nestling in nooks between rocks that will be challenging to clear, a few late-blooming mums.  And roses! and petunias! and a purple alyssum seedling that chose November in which to bloom. An odd mix of spring, summer and fall jumbled together.  Maybe it's okay to be a little ragged and a tad unkempt and a bit out-of-step as we prepare ourselves for challenges ahead. Maybe it's supposed to be that way.

I raked leaves today.  I was cold enough to need my heather-blue knit vest indoors, but I was glowingly warm from a bit of exercise on a mild sunny day outdoors.  Better yet, I felt relaxed and happy.  Mother Nature and I were in harmony.  We'd collaborated.  She dropped the leaves so  I could rake them into piles.  She stopped the photosynthesis so I could enjoy the colors hidden in the leaves since springtime.  She offered lessons on change, on mindfulness, on responsibility and I absorbed them.  

I raked leaves today.  It was a good day.

Dose Dos--Remember When

I never finished writing this post originally so I never published it.  I was gonna delete it, but then figured that this was a record of the change from a very challenging time to one filled with hope.  I wanted to keep this memory.  Sometimes a blog can be less of a communication tool and more of a personal journal.  This is one of those times.

March 29, 2021.  We got up this morning and headed off for our second Pfizer vaccination. I might have been a little anxious since I had a nightmare that involved a low-speed car crash right into a small tree.  But we were up in time, had no auto incidents on the way, and were at the pharmacy in plenty of time!

What a difference three weeks can make.  There was no hour-long queue to wait in while cringing away from other people who somehow, even after nine months of Covid19 warnings, still didn't know how to properly social distance.  Heck, there was no line at all.  We walked right up to the check-in desk, handed in our paperwork, had our temperatures taken, sat down waiting for our names to be called and had our shots in less than five minutes.  It took longer to sit in the waiting area afterward than it did to walk up and get our jabs!

Since then, we had Easter dinner with a vaccinated family and I got to hug my mom for the first time in a year. Last week I took her to one of our local nursery/gift shops just because we didn't feel totally vulnerable and at risk.  

We are still very cautious in public, knowing that there are no one hundred percent guarantees and cognizant of the new variants swirling around.  I won't be eating in a restaurant or enjoying a movie theater anytime soon.  But I'm gaining confidence outdoors and not totally freaking out when there are more people in one place than I'm used to.  We do masks and social distancing and keep tabs on family, friends and co-workers who are getting vaccinated so we know when we can relax and enjoy their company.

I may be safer, but I'm still keeping up on the latest science.  I won't be getting cocky anytime soon.  I've seen the statistics on B.1.1.7 and they are scary.  My neighbor had a scan recently and asked if they could include his lungs since they were "in the vicinity" and his radiologist agreed since he knew why he asked (he caught Covid19 during a chemo infusion). My neighbor's lungs are thakfully clear and healthy.  But the radiologist shared that he'd just seen the lungs of someone who had a mild case of the coronavirus and he called them coal miner lungs.  Why one guy and not the other? This virus can affect vital organs in ways that we are still learning about.   

There is no downside to getting the vaccine.  Still a happy camper here...ready for springtime, outdoor activities, visiting with neighbors (all of us vaccinated), and lots and lots of gardening!

 

Liberation Day (sort of, almost, kinda)

Today marks two weeks since we received our second dose of the Pfizer Covid19 vaccine. 

Theoretically, I had planned to go out and do something normal again for the first time in a year.  Like shopping for a decorative item that I could live without at T.J. Maxx.  Or browsing doll accessories at Target for Rosebud's birthday.  Or strolling through the SPCA thrift store in search of treasures like picture frames for my watercolors or a book by a favorite author. Or spending the last of my birthday money on some tubes of Winsor & Newton watercolors at our local fine arts store.

Instead, I've cleaned up my desk.  I have a wastebasket filled with paper, a to-do checklist for the spring and an organized deferred-project inventory.  Most importantly, I managed to unearth my Covid19 immunization card.  It's now photographed, uploaded to the cloud and pinned to my corkboard--I think I've made it impossible for me to misplace every again.  

Three reasons why I haven't gone out and celebrated wildly today.

First, we've been so careful and cautious for so very long (since mid-February 2020 when my intuition and a healthy dose of scientific reading told me that the new coronavirus was going to be a pandemic and inspired me to stock up on every necessity that I could think of and start to bunker down) that the realization that we can relax a bit now seems unlikely and unreal.  I guess it's going to take me more than two weeks to fully process our new reality and venture out willingly.  Isn't it strange that the new antibody minions running freely through my body are adjusting more quickly than I am?!

Second, some recent variants scare me with their increased infection and severity rate, which we are seeing in an uptick in cases locally.  I have friends who still have not been vaccinated, intentionally.  I really want herd immunity so we can stop those variants in their tracks.  I'm making sure I pass on the scientific news that should scare them into doing the right thing.  There is just no downside to getting the vaccine.  None.  

Third, we only have one car and the love of my life decided to use it to run work errands this afternoon.  What was he thinking?!   

The good news is that I'll be equally protected by the vaccine tomorrow and the day after and the week after.  So I'll get out there...masked, socially distanced and with my trusty hand sanitizer dangling from my purse.  Just not today.

I plan to take photos of Life Outside My House!

 

One Week In, Two To Go

It might be spring if yesterday was too chilly to be outdoors and today is balmy.  If yesterday was gray and dour, and today is blissfully sunshiny.  If yesterday felt like a good day to cocoon and hibernate and today is an outdoorsy invitation.         

My garden is in no doubt that spring has just about sprung.  The yearly parade of intensely purple mini iris, tete a tete daffodils and crocuses (croci?) by the hundreds has been flaunting their blossoms regardless of snow flurries or shivery breezes.  Thank heavens for bulbs and perennials like primroses that lift my spirits each year.  

My vast collection of bunnies are lurking behind an abundance of green clad leprechauns and shamrocks, waiting for their turn in the seasonal spotlight.  Can lambs and peonies be far behind?  

I know that changing out holiday decorations is just too much trouble for most people nowadays.  I can't help embracing the changing seasons though.  A changing gallery of holiday reminders is just a small delight that makes my life a tad richer.

Plus, I get bored easily.  Eye candy is nice.

Time is a funny thing.  It hardly seems like it was only a week ago that we received our first covid vaccine.  The second dose scheduled for the twenty-ninth seems like an eternity away.  

I'm mulling how to celebrate being (relatively) street legal again.  There are some errands and projects that have been on the back burner.  Things I want to accomplish but have not been willing to risk the possible exposure, like a trip to a big box store to have a gallon of paint mixed for the family room or BB&B for a digital kitchen scale. The idea of going out without weighing risk factors and deciding on discretion is going to take some getting used to.  We are fortunate to live in an area where most people are mask compliant.  Still, those new variants popping up are not only more transmissible but also cause more serious infections.  I'll dream about paint and scales, but till probably resist the temptation until more of our population has access to the vaccines.  Better safe than sorry!

1

I Spell Relief "V-A-C-C-I-N-E"

After the stress and difficulty of trying to find available vaccine and then trying to get an appointment, the relief I feel after receiving my first Covid19 shot is just off the charts.

I saw another blogger mention vaccinefinder.org site as a useful place to find one's local vaccine possibilities and it worked great for Nevada although I was less successful in helping family in Oregon.  I was able to choose a location, a time and even which vaccine I preferred.  

The pharmacy could have organized the wait line better, but the actual facility was well organized.  I know we spent less time filling out paperwork, getting our shot and waiting the requisite fifteen minutes of monitoring than we did waiting in a very unorganized and definitely not socially-distanced line. But it was worth it!

I could picture little yellow minions running up to the mRNA bits circulating in my arm, chattering to each other in alarm and then getting down to business dealing with the new invader.  I can hardly wait until they meet the enemy on the 29th when we are scheduled to receive our second dose!  

Our side effects?  So minimal that they are almost not worth mentioning!  The mild soreness at the injection site didn't stop me from completing my upper body weightlifting routine or interfere with a good night's sleep.  

I don't know how we'll feel after the second injection, but knowing that we are one step closer to visiting the grand-daughters and the great-grandson will be worth any discomfort.  

It's completely amazing to me that Pfizer and Moderna both completely prevented any deaths in the clinical trials.  And that hospitalizations due to severe symptoms were non-existent.  I have so much respect and admiration for the scientists who worked on vaccine research that I can't even put it into words.  

It feels like a whole new world of possibilities has opened up.  Visiting with elderly relatives maskless!  Eventually travelling to hug our favorite kidlets!  Buying groceries knowing that I won't die or require hospitalization.  Might even chance some retail therapy to buy something that I don't need, on a whim.

Thank heavens I've lived in a time when polio and smallpox were conquered, when my children were protected from whooping cough and chicken pox (we have an extensive family history of shingles that I'm thrilled they won't have to suffer), and now we are fortunate to be rescued from the novel coronavirus. A safe vaccine that was created in less than a year, thanks to previous experience with SARS and cancer therapies. 

So, if you are on the fence, jump off and join me!  The grass really IS greener on this side!

Stay safe and healthy, friends.  Be kind and be thoughtful.

Farewell to the Year That None Of Us Wanted

Ah, yes, 2020.  As this year wanes, I'm sure I'm not the only one looking back on it for the lessons it holds and making plans to improve the year to come.

There were bright spots. 

Babies whose arrival brightened our lives and made us more determined to shape our world into a space where they could be safe and healthy.  A baby girl born on Leap Day and many discussions on how one celebrates birthdays.  A baby boy born to a couple who've been hoping for a decade.  A baby girl and the miracle of IVF. Each of them deserves clean air and fresh water, opportunity to learn and grow to their full abilities, ideals to live up to and a hopeful future.

A sparkly ring finger this December.  Because nothing could be better than knowing your child has found happiness and commitment in life and loving the one he chose.

Gratitude as I discovered the difference between need and want, between essential and optional. I realized how truly fortunate I am.  I value people more than acquisitions, simple pleasures more than elaborate plans.  Give me a needle and thread, seeds and sunshine, a neighbor's smile over the back fence. 

I've managed to foster some good habits.  Planning a dinner menu is now something I anticipate rather than a chore to dread.  I have my composting system dialed in.  I wake up to a kitchen with all the pots and pans cleaned and put away.  I have finished many a long-term project.  I am less a procrastinator and more a planner.

Gratitude, again, that I've spent a lifetime acquiring some very useful skills.  I can cut hair, cook from scratch, bake with confidence, sew cute and well-fitting masks for family and friends, grow a productive garden, give a good massage, mend and make alterations fearlessly, triage medical conditions, paint birthday cards, raise healthy hens, build a chicken coop, read for pleasure and escape as well as to learn and grow, tackle any frustrating internet app until it has bent to my will and also let science be my guide in confusing times. To these, I've added the ability to French braid my own hair, make a reliable loaf of sourdough, and match my pajama selection to the sheet set of the week. This was a good year to be fairly self-sufficient.

 

I'm content to stay in my little home, with the love of my life and my heart dog, and dream of better days ahead while I strive to make our current life delight-full.

So, 2020 might not have been the year I was looking forward to, filled with family and friends and all the cherished yearly events and holidays.  I can't change the past but I can foster the future.

A happy new year to us, each and every one. Stay safe, stay healthy, stay positive, stay kind. Be thoughtful, be open, be critical, be idealistic.

My All-Time Very Favorite Wondrous Christmas Ornament

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I always refer to it as the Soap Bubble.

 

There's nothing better than sitting together on the loveseat and seeing all the magic and beauty of Christmas condensed into one perfect sphere. 

 

It reflects the special ornaments made by little hands, the cross-stitch beauties made by family, the Shiny Brites from my childhood, the elves from our first married Christmas, the satin ornaments we bought for our first tree, the spun-glass icicles, the wooden European ornaments, the teensy-tiny ornaments that glisten high up on the most delicate branches as well as each colorful lightbulb.

 

16 for 2016. Well, almost.

Oh golly, it's been so long since I've posted that I'm having a hard time actually writing something, anything, without editing it before I've even finished a sentence!  But, hey, that now that I've finished one whole sentence the rest should be easy, right?

I've been crafting my own personal bucket list for the year and naturally I got a wild hare to have sixteen items.  Because Twenty Sixteen!

So far though, I only have twelve thingies on it.  Which is great because now I have room to add great ideas as they occur to me.

Some goals were no-brainers...like realizing that I am determined to meet my cousin Linda who loves thrifting as much as I do (even if she is a genius at seeing and snapping up great buys) and attend either the Alameda Flea Market or the one on Treasure Island with her. We've been trying to get there for a few years without notable success so I've moved it way high on my priority list.

Other easy-peasy ones:  camping (because that's on my list every year) and finishing my Irish Chain quilt (the top is one hundred percent pieced so backing, batting and quilting are next).

Some are from the To-Do list, which shouldn't really be part of a bucket list, BUT...checking them off would make my life so much nicer.  It would be great if our master bath toilet actually flushed reliably on the first try.  Equally lovely would be a garage door opener that closed.  Currently I hold the button down for eighteen seconds while it closes and then depart the garage via the small garage door.  I'm grateful that it opens without incident, but holding that button down is getting old, old, old.

I even surprised myself by realizing that I want to volunteer by either using my DIY skills for Habitat or exercising my bent for all things vintage (history major here) by linking up with the historical society.  Leading a walking tour of our historical districts would suit me just fine.

Also, I plan to polish up my hostessing skills and revive Game Night for the neighborhood.  Time to make plans and send invitations.  (Right after I embark on a major house cleaning. Yeah, I know the neighbors would enjoy themselves in a slightly-cluttered house as much as a nice tidy one, but otherwise my sweetie will drive me insane with last-minute cleaning just when I need to focus on final party prep.  Truthfully, it wouldn't hurt me one little bit to organize myself enough to have a company-ready home most the time.  In fact, it would probably make me feel pretty good.)  But I digress.

You may have noticed these don't add up to twelve.  Could be you'll hear about the other ideas on the 2016 list when they become reality.  Wish me luck!

I'm now hitting the Publish button.  (Not waiting on photos.  Not going over it and over it with endless edits.  Otherwise this will join the other one hundred-fifty posts in my Drafts folder.)


Stay shiny, be inspired, focus on the good, enjoy life,
 

I've Reclaimed My Guest Room

'Way back in the summer of 2012, I worked tirelessly to transform this half-baked attempt at a guest room into a welcoming haven.

My son had moved out, my husband's chemo was over and I had the summer off.  Was I ever busy!

I sewed a dust ruffle to complement the Waverly floral duvet cover I'd made years before.  I had just been pulling the duvet long enough on one side to cover the box spring as you can see above.  Hey, the other edge was pushed up against the wall where no one ever saw it, and it was better than looking at the boxspring and frame.  Or so I told myself.

I envisioned a ticking striped fabric but found a cute botanical/alphabet print.  It was the perfect pink and the price was unbeatable.  Sold!

I painted a resin ORB yard-sale wall lamp in my favorite white ( Behr Sleepy Eyes), recovered a vintage lampshade frame with chenille (this is not it btw), rewired with white cord, then stood back and admired my handiwork with glee.

With a little ingenuity and an electric drill, I even figured out how to hang the lamp despite missing hardware.  The challenges of upcycling!

We had also been using this spare room for storage and it has a high decorative ledge that's perfect for hiding boxes behind paintings and other decor. I'm a packrat ("this might come in handy someday") and a sentimental mommy (toy trains, models, teenage odds and ends)--not a good combo.

I barely survived some hard-hearted purging and a couple trips to the Goodwill donation center but it felt good to be organized and have kept only a few choice items.  I look back at this pile and think "Yikes!"  No watermark on this photo for some reason but feel free to Pin it if you have a "Hot Mess" board!

While I was clearing the ledge, I even scraped some popcorn off one small part of the pitched ceiling and painted it--just to see what it looked like.

This was before I repainted it.  Even without any texture, it's such a nice clean difference.

I finally painted the whole room farmhouse yellow.   A warm mellow yellow that existed only in my memory of a wooden chair in my grandmother's California ranch house rather than on any of the hundred yellow paint swatches (too green, too blue, too gray, too orange, too gold) I'd been collecting.  I mixed up my perfect farmhouse yellow from my craft acrylics and then had it color-matched.  I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner, but it is the easiest way to get the paint color you want.  Duh! 

By the end of the summer I'd decorated with old family wedding photos and some of my MIL's original floral art and the room was beginning to look quite welcoming.

 I even created a sewing corner with thread, notions and a bit of Mary Englebreit happiness handy.

Two weeks later my son moved back when he and his roommate parted ways!  Let's pause for a moment of silence.

Sigh.  It was wonderful to have my live-in dog-sitter,hen-watcher and part-time chef back, but...as they always say, every silver lining has a cloud.  

Fast forward two and a half years to last week.

The boomerang kid now has a better job and good prospects for the future, and has moved out.  Again.  Maybe for the final time? I hope so for his sake.  No one should have to move back with their parents if they want to retain their sanity.  I couldn't have!  He seems to have escaped unscathed--perhaps we are just unusually wonderful lenient, understanding, awesome parents?

Once again, I have a lovely empty room that's begging to become the guest room it always wanted to be.  I've moved out almost every lingering vestige that he has yet to transfer to his new home--blackout curtains, extra computer parts, old textbooks, navy comforter, ratty posters--and I feel like I have a bright and welcoming space to play with again.

I have plans.  Oh, do I have plans!

All the decor is still stored away because I'd just love to resume scraping off popcorn.  (It'll never be this empty again, right?)

 

The bed has never had a headboard and I'll be making this Ana White farmhouse version.  Unless I can find an old brass one like this one during my garage sale rounds.

 

Minus the 70's quilt and dark gray carpet, hopefully!

I can just see plantation shutters, crown molding, new baseboards, beefed up trimwork.  My son removed the closet doors and it looks so open and spacious without them--not to mention how much easier it is to access anything inside--that I would like to hang curtains if I can find a fabric I love.

Oh, the possibilities!

I wish I could wave the magical DIY wand that so many bloggers seem to possess.  I would be able to show you a series of perfectly-styled photos by next weekend, right?  Real life just isn't like that. I have a husband and a dog, four new chicks, a job, housework and an awakening garden--all of whom need my attention.

For now, just having a (mostly) empty room is enough.

Stay shiny,
 

Be the Ripple

Loved this so much I just had to share! Watch it all the way through or you won't get the punchline.

It is just me, or does it help to have a hankie too?


 

A simple act of caring creates an endless ripple. 

February seems like the appropriate month in which to make some ripples!

 Definitely stay shiny!
  

Friday Fave -- Christmas in January

The nights are getting shorter and the days longer--although you can't tell if you're not paying attention because you're too busy freezing your bewhondus off.

All the twinkling lights are packed away as are the tartookers, bizilbigs, popcorn and plums. So what's a girl to do to ward off a severe case of the dreaded January Doldrums?  Funny you should ask!

It helps that I've hoarded every post-holiday sale cross-stitch ornament pattern that I've ever seen.  I have kits marked Shopko $.30--and we haven't had Shopko here for a decade, people.  And, oh, how I miss that store!  So I'm loving lots and lots of cheery projects to stitch while I watch George Eliot's Middlemarch on Netflx, with an occasional Marco Polo episode  thrown in to satisfy my sweetie's viewing habits.

It might have taken a few days of digging in various boxes and bins to round up all the kits that have scattered over the years, but I managed to herd them into one corral finally. So maybe the correct embroidery threads aren't with the right kits. Details, details.  Close enough.

I'm just started project number seven!  Which sounds impressive--especially with an exclamation mark thownin--but three of them were already mostly finished (similar to "mostly dead", but in the opposite way) and took just an evening to wind up. 

Don't you just love that little gingerbread house on the green Aida?!  It's my favorite.  Atlhough the little hen with the brown eggs that says Merry Eggsmas on it (not pictured) is darn fun too.  In a chicken-loving way.

I'm not only avoiding the post-holiday letdown but I'm a whole eleven months ahead on next year's Christmas ornaments!  Whoot!


 

Friday Favorite - Simple Enjoyment

In the "Trying To Be A Better Blogger and Post More Often" category, I've had the idea of featuring one thing that's brought me joy during the week for a while but I never followed through.  I regularly find myself looking at something I'm using and thinking, "Gee, I love this".  They are almost always vintage items I've had for years, but sometimes I discover that things I didn't know I needed are amazing additions to daily life.

So here goes, my first Friday Favorite: My Dish Drainer.  Exciting beyond belief, right?  But honestly, every time I look at my dish drainer recently, I smile.

I have a dishwasher that I could (but don't want) to live without.  Our '50's bungalow didn't have one so I was more than a little excited when we bought a new house With A Dishwasher. 

Although it turned out to be a dishwasher that I'd turn on then leave to grocery shop.  Or go upstairs and use the sewing machine.   Or wander outside to pull weeds.  Noisy, much?   We never started it up when we wanted to have a conversation or watch TV or eat dinner.

There are some things that are not meant to go in dishwashers though--like wooden knives and cutting boards, aluminum measuring cups, melamine bowls--so they get washed by hand.

After twenty-five years of noisily but efficiently cleaning dishes, Dishwasher #1 began having issues (I can relate) and a new quiet model has since been installed (thankfully my husband has not replaced his older and noisy Wife #1). 

Those wooden/aluminum/melamine items still have to be washed individually though.  Hence the dish drainer. The current one is as old as our granite counter tops. Well, not as old as the granite pluton that spawned them originally. 

That would be silly since plastic didn't exist then.  

Neither did humans, now that I think of it. 

When we gleefully demolished our ceramic tile and grody grout a few years back, we bought a clear plastic dish drainer that wouldn't obscure our amazing smooth granite counter.  Years of cradling wet dishes left the rubber with a cloudy residue from unknown minerals in our generally fabulous water straight from Lake Tahoe.  Not pretty 'though still fairly see-through.

New Year, new eyes.  As I dried the dishes recently I actually looked at the drainer, saw the residue and made a change.  Not by buying a new drainer--applying a bit of elbow grease showed how easily the cloudiness could be eliminated.  A baking soda paste and a soft cloth revealed a clear, good-as-new surface.

So humble dish drainer, thanks for making my dishwashing chores a bit more beautiful and satisfying.

And the moral of the story (it occurs to me as I type) is that I have the power to improve life in lots of ways if I just open my eyes and make the effort.  I'm betting it works on people and relationships as well as dish drainers.  Grin.

Stay shiny,

The Best Things About a New Year

I loved the quarter system in college.  Every nine weeks I got to buy new spiral bound notebooks with not a mark in them.  No matter what grades I'd earned in the previous quarter, there was the possibility of straight A's. Unknown professors with different styles of teaching.  Subjects that I'd never considered taking--like design, environmental horticulture, beginning art, veg crops or Chinese history--offered diversity.

I love fresh starts, possibilities uncluttered by baggage, the space to dream large. 

Then too, it's amazing at year's end to look back at what I've accomplished--especially since I frequently astonish myself by the volume I've completed.  Then there are always those high-priority tasks that somehow go begging for years.  I'm both encouraged and motivated.

Although I spend a lot of time during the eight months when I can actually hand's-on play-in-the-dirt in the high desert thinking about plants, it's that slim slice of time every year as I put the garden to bed when I learn the most.  It's enlightening, taking stock of failures and successes, planning for the future. 

So I'm looking backwards at 2014, even while I'm hanging up that new calendar.  I'm rummaging through the drawers and closets, discovering unfinished crafts and ideas and then curling up watching Firefly (for the fifth time) as I quilt, embroider, stitch and hem.

I'm just--just barely--disciplined enough to enjoy the satisfaction of completing a wall-hanging and packing it away until next autumn. But, trust me, my brain is busily and enthusiastically planning an assault on myriad fronts.  Some painting, lots of embroidery, sewing and more sewing.  Definitely planning for next Christmas--it's never too early and sometimes even a year ahead can be a bit too late!  Some big tasks, some itty-bitty ones.  Some for my own satisfaction, some as gifts, some as just a way to work out a challenge.  A visit to the garden store for seeds is in order.  Gift certificates to be redeemed.  Christmas money to be wisely used--membership at the scrapbook store so I can use workshop space and tools throughout the year, perhaps some new tools (because Santa somehow forgot to pack the requested clamps on his sleigh), and let us not forget some new boots to stomp out the cold weather blues.

So farewell, old, and welcome, new.  Twenty-fifteen could be the best year ever.  The potential is there.  It's fresh and shiny and just waiting for us!

May some of our dreams come true, may there be more happy than sad, may we choose to grow in wisdom and grace as life teaches us new lessons.

Happy New Year from my cottage to your casa,

Playing With Wood: The Coffee Table

My original plan for my little square table was simple--sand the scarred top and rub on some tung oil and then bring it back inside to hold remotes and prop up our feet as we watch Netflix. That plan didn't last long--little did I know that I was embarking on one of those (cue scary music) Refinishing Projects That Go Bad. 

I should have known right from the git-go when the finish gummed up the sandpaper so quickly that I knew I was gonna be stuck using a chemical stripper. I don't like using strippers--they stink and sting and are messy. But a girl's gotta do whatever's necessary to get ahead. And actually the stripping process went very smoothly. The maple top looked soooo nice after I fine-sanded it.

I wanted to add a bit of color though and reached into my stash of stains. Early American was way too light and didn't add anything. I tried Puritan Pine stain which looks great on my bath tray  but it still wasn't right. So I reached for English Chestnut, the stain I absolutely love on my mid-century black-and-wood desk..

Big mistake. Huge.

The darker color highlighted the fact that the maple top was made of twelve different boards and each took the stain differently. You can't believe how quickly I grabbed the paint thinner hoping to remove as much stain as possible. No luck. So I stripped it again and discovered my stripper was great at taking off the finish but didn't do one single thing to remove stain color.

I figured I had two choices at that point: I could sand it down again. Or I could paint it.  Or a third choice would have been to ignore it, but I'm reserving that for The Desk.

Ordinarily, paint is not going near turned legs (let's just say I had an unfortunate experience involving removing latex paint from our dining table and chairs that I don't ever plan to repeat). And I resist painting pretty hardwoods because I dearly love the look and warmth of wood.

But the truth is that I fished this little table out of my neighbors' garbage pile when they left for North Dakota in the middle of a late November blizzard. Solid maple weighs a ton if you try carrying it on your head--even if it just three houses away--and it's too awkward to carry with your arms.  If I'd paid good money for it I would have sanded it.  But it was free.  FREE, people!

So I took the easy route and grabbed my favorite white paint.

I gotta say...no regrets that I painted it!  I love the way the paint brings out the cute lines of this piece.  And I'm officially educated about a multi-board top vs. a single board.

This coffee table wasn't intended to be a blog post about projects gone wrong or even a roadkill rescue story.  Hence the lack of "before" shots.  It was just another way not to finish that monster of a mid-century modern office desk.  Do you ever have a project that you want to finish but you just can't make yourself dive in?

As long as I'm thinking about said desk, I guess I'll see what I can do to move it forward, even is just a bit.  Because summer vacation is just about over and the classroom is looming.

Progress is good!


Be (INSPIRE)d,
 

Playing With Wood: The White Picket (Chicken) Fence and Gate

My chickens' have a new gate!

It not only looks much better than the predecessor which we hurriedly knocked together before a summer vacation four years ago...

But the gate is now fully functional.  As in, it opens and shuts easily without binding--something the previous gate didn't do.  Simple pleasures!

I transformed those dog-eared cedar fenceboards into white pickets using my jigsaw and leftover trim paint.  I found the classic gothic-style pickets via Pinterest.  I couldn't resist the scalloped tops so I incorporated that too. 

I spray-painted the gate handle turquoise--the jury's still out on that one.  It's not quite right.  It needs something else and I'm still waiting for inspiration to strike.

It's only five feet corraling the hens in our side yard, but our cottage now boasts a white picket fence.  I'm lovin' it!

Be (INSPIRE)d,