Sometime shortly after we moved home last November I started noticing that Hazel played with her toys more if they were organized. I couldn’t just keep everything jumbled in a couple of open bins – she would ignore them unless all the blocks were together, yada yada (surely this is surprising no one – she is my child in SOME ways.) I started scouring goodwill and other places for some low shelves that were deep enough to work well for toys and found nothing. I suppose I could have built something but I would have just gotten very angry in the process, which was not a good thing to do during Shining Time up on this mountain. So after christmas when things were way on sale, I bought a set of these shelves in white and some fabric bins for them on the cheap.

I don’t even know how long I stood in target looking at them and feeling disgusted with what I was about to do, both because I was buying something I knew I could probably EVENTUALLY find used or make with some effort, AND they were boring. But whatever – I bought them.

And then I bought some spraypaint. And scrapbooking paper. And these wee adorable frames from the dollar bins and Michael’s. And ribbon. And I spent way too long obsessing over all of it. And I went home joyful about my big box-store purchases.

A week later we had an astounding thaw, and so one night after dark I put the garage door up, assembled the shelves, and started spraypainting them right at the edge of the rain pouring from the sky. The light was pitiful down there, and I didn’t even think about it, I just went to town with my petrol blue destashed from Erin, and had another new can waiting on deck. After about ten minutes of bliss I realized that some of the paint was beading up. I almost lost my mind. I left the whole thing in the garage and didn’t touch it again until… two days ago.

In the meantime I picked up a can of plastic primer for the cheap plastic-ey veneer – totally ingenious – and sanded off all of the bad paint. (Dear mouse sander, I love you forever.) Second paint attempt went on like a dream, I wrapped some ribbon around the bins, drew some labels and covered them in contact paper, then popped the (painted-to-match) mini frames on top. After the spraypaint was dry I cut the scrapbooking paper to fit the four cube openings that had backs, and after Hazel went to bed… I organized. Organizing might be more fun than spray painting. I just don’t know.

Either way – Hazel’s boring target toy shelves are no longer boring. And I only had one fit of anger.

That’s right, friends. I refinished these dressers one.year.ago. and now I’m blogging about them. I knew we’d get rid of all of our cheap Ikea furniture when we left Canada, simply to have less stuff to drag back across the border, so last summer I pilfered these from my parents (thanks, parents). I refinished them during visits home and left them in storage at their house (thanks, parents) until we moved to the 433 in November, when they brought them over to us (…thanks…parents).

I’ve been telling myself since November that eventually I’ll have a day of good light in our cornerofthehouse bedroom for photographing, but it ain’t going to happen. So, here you go:

My dresser, which is actually currently being shared with Mikey. THIS is why I keep getting rid of clothes.

Hazel’s dresser, formerly my mom’s dresser, formerly my grandma’s dresser – I had to strip a LOT of layers of paint off of this cutie. Somewhere, I can’t even begin to remember where, I blogged about my longing for these mint-green glass drawer pulls from Anthropologie to add the finishing touch to her pretty red paint. Shortly afterwards they were gifted to Hazel by sweet sweet sweet Molly. They are delicious and I love them and I love Molly.

Old news. The end.

I took the lint shaver to Andy today. She’s as smooth as new. But still… pretty dirty. I have vowed to hold off on a bath until after we go camping for a week.

After months of scouring the ReStore, every Goodwill in my path, various other thrift shops, no less than 50 yardsales and innumerable trash drivebys, I finally found the perfect piece of furniture to revamp into a tiny kitchen for Hazel’s second birthday in October. A tiny kitchen that I’m hoping will be almost entirely thrifted/repurposed/handmade, with some ideas stolen from this retro pottery barn kitchen and a few other places (I hate it when a company like pottery barn gets something so damn perfect!) I have been finding little details for months, I have fabrics picked out and felt food planned (and crocheted food hopes using this book from VD), I have a piece of furniture to make into a tiny fridge, but I’ve been missing the main component – the sink and stove. I looked at this piece at least three times before realizing how perfect it actually is. As soon as the lightbulb came on (while standing in line at the post office) I drove back to the ReStore, strapped Hazel onto my back, wrestled this puppy into the front seat of my car and brought it home. And then spread out a few of my favorite little details to photograph and feel like I’m actually accomplishing something other than spending money and shoving things in a box and daydreaming.

nightstand = $15.00 @ the Habitat for Humanity ReStore
faucet = $5.00 @ the ReStore
mixing bowls = $.50 each at Goodwill
tiny bamboo utensils = $.25 each in chinatown
tiny wooden mixing spoon = $.25 in chinatown
egg whisk = $1.00 at a yardsale
most perfect plates = $.99 each at Target (and I kind of want four more, but even though this line of picnicey stuff is still out the tiny polkadotted plates are gone in every store I check – please grab some for me if you see them!)

A week of sewing: five pairs of shorts for Hazel, a mei tai for she and Alice, and three toddler art aprons for three kids just entering toddlerdom. Well, almost three. I need about five more inches of brown thread – the third will get finished up after next week, since I’m vacating this house on Friday afternoon so Mikey can write his second comprehensive exam in peace and then take off in our car to a few-day conference.

(New year’s resolution week 20: these are upcycled from goodwill-bound pants of Maggie’s and a shirt of mine.)

I also picked up the first component of Hazel’s kitchen today. By “picked up” I mean it’s in Walt’s van, waiting for Mikey to go get it when Hazel’s carseat has been relocated to my mom’s car and there’s space in the back seat. Excitement: barely contained. Barely.

Listening: The Freight Hoppers
(I am) Reading: The Poisonwood Bible
(Hazel is) Reading: Fox in Socks (More like I’m reading it, forty times a day – when the beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles and the bottle’s on a poodle and the poodle’s eating noodles… <— I think I mutter this in my sleep.)
Working on: wedding jewelry; baptism gifts

Ever found yourself standing over your trash can holding something you’re about to toss and think to yourself, “surely SOMEONE can make something out of this”?

Put it here ——————> Trash it Forward. New blog, brainchild of the Etsy forums. A little more reliable than craigslist or freecycle because things are offered up with crafters in mind, a little more fun than the landfill, and a good way to get rid of things if you’re from a small place with no established upcycling programs. It also keeps us from angering people who sell bottle caps and Altoids tins and stuff like that on Etsy by listing our trash for pennies because we really just want to give it all away.

We make trash, you pay postage for us to mail it to you, you make stuff out of it. Good, right?

There is a very short list of things that I’m quite certain would make me happy even if everything in my life was falling apart. Among them: if you walk through my door and hold out your hands, offer up some random little piece of debris from your life and say, “can you make something out of this?”… I will always go weak in the knees. Always. Doesn’t matter what it is. Thinking about someone I know standing in their house and looking at something before they throw it away or put it back in a box and wondering what I could do with it means more to me than a billion dollars in profit from selling my stuff. Maggie and I have been doing this to each other practically our whole lives. This is why we are friends. Manda has mailed me packages full of her broken jewelry. This is why we are friends. My father in law destashes his abandoned projects into my life – darkroom supplies, woodcutting tools, stained glass supplies – this is why we are friends. Last Wednesday Walt showed up at hour house with one of these in his pocket:

And the ever-magical, “can you make something out of this? Like… jewelry? Earrings? I have lots more.” Look at those boxes, man!! Drool. Amp tubes. I never would’ve thought.

Since then it has sat on the island in our kitchen, suffering many inspections per day. Fiddling, walking around holding it in my hand, rolling it between my palms, pressing it to my lips (why do I do this? Hazel does this too – is she mimicing me or is there a reason that we do this?) I’ve lost sleep at night trying to figure out how to get it to hang horizontally. Because of course I wanted it to be part of a necklace.

Yesterday immediately after supper I retreated to the garage to give some ideas a try. First idea: solder jump rings to each end – one to the prongs and one to some copper tape wrapped around the glass tip – fail. Some curses. Second idea: wire wrap a band around each end of the main body and attach a jump ring to that – fail. Many curses. Third idea: solder a thin band around each end of the main body and attach a jump ring to that. Call Walt first. How much heat can these things stand? Is it going to blow up in my face if it gets too hot? A lot, he says. They have a heat resistant coating so that’s probably why my soldering ideas are not working – the copper tape won’t stick to it, he says. He reminds me that since it’s a vacuum tube, it would only crack if it got too hot. He’s smart, this guy. It’s not going to blow up in your face. But… you’re wearing glasses, right?

I am.

He says it probably won’t work. Try it anyway. Many more curses. Of course he’s right. Almost crying now – very mad and I’ve burned myself. What time does Lowe’s close? It’s 8:00 p.m. – I wish they made cable ties in metal. That’s exactly what I need – thin metal bands to which I can attach a jump ring. I get in the car, very angry and with the music very loud. Immediately I am not mad anymore because the CD that plays when I start the car is Chris Coole, and he is the opposite of music that could sustain craft-induced fury. I start to calm down. Drive to Lowe’s calmly. Thanks, Chris. Maybe I can find some tiny little hose clamps that will work.

Get to Lowe’s. Am asked many times if I need help. Am the recipient of many confused stares that I’m all too familiar with (I was an art student, after all) when I respond “I don’t really know what I’m looking for….” and I don’t bother to explain what I have in mind. Locate properly-sized hose clamps. They are too bulky, but they are ninety-seven cents for a pair so I dejectedly make my way to the checkout with them anyway, knowing that before I even get there I’ll turn around and put them back because I’m not going to put a ninety-seven cent thing on my debit card. Swerve into the electrical aisle. Glimmer of hope. Spy the boxes of cable ties, and start wondering if I could spray paint plastic ones with metaillic spraypaint. And… what’s that?

Stainless steel cable ties???

Will wonders never cease? I grab a pack of ten. I run back to the plumbing and fling the cute little hose clamps back into their box. I feel elated and speed the whole way home. I put Hazel to bed (she conks out in about four minutes and stays that way for the rest of the evening, the dear child) and go back to the garage. Send Walt a jubilant text message. Fifteen minutes later I have tears in my eyes because it won’t work. I can’t get them pulled tight enough to stay securely on the tube. I have glue all over me. I use bad curse words that are reserved for crafting. Send Walt angry text message – maybe he’ll have suggestions.

Two minutes later – I’ve got it figured out. So easy. Win. No glue needed. Add a couple of jump rings and solder them closed. Burned again. Don’t care now. It’s 11:00. Run upstairs to my beads – surely this kid is going to wake up any time now, because she’s only been sleeping for an hour before waking since we got back from Toronto and when she does wake up she makes me come to bed with her. Miraculously, she sleeps all night. By 12:30 I’ve constructed one necklace and not liked it and taken it apart and made another. I like this one. I’ll keep this one. I’ll make a few more and see if they sell in my Etsy shop to nerdy girls or wives/girlfriends of nerdy guys.

And if they don’t, I really don’t care, because all I really wanted was to beat this thing into submission without it breaking. I win. You’re pretty now, you wily little bastard.

Listening: Rilo Kiley
(I am) Reading: The Last Child in the Woods
(Hazel is) Reading:: 123
Working on: getting back to crafting that I’m actually getting paid to do for the rest of the day

Since Mikey and I still have some time before we have to decide what kind of “precedent” we’ll set in regards to an “Easter basket” for our children, and since Hazel’s first two Easters have come at a time of great discovery in her short little life, we’ve used it as an excuse to buy and make her things both years (i.e., totally spoil her with stuff, which we normally don’t do). Last year she had really just started playing with toys hardcore so she got a basket full of board books and little toys and her beloved silks. This year she is all of a sudden pretending and doing lots of outdoor things, so we filled her spring basket with outdoor toys and books and things for pretend. (Don’t worry, she’s not deprived of candy – she has lots of grandparents.)

I have had my eye on these eggs by Imagination Kids for awhile. I had a feeling she’d really like them. Whoa mama, did she like them. I didn’t think she’d ever get around to looking at the rest of what was in her basket. Can you tell she’s oozing excitement?

I made this little trio of bunnies from this free pattern on wee wonderfuls. They are made from fat quarters I received as part of a fabric exchange with friends, a remnant of fleece, and they are stuffed with bits of chopped up old tshirts (thus making them my new year’s resolution for the week, which I realize I’m WAY behind on). I’ll tell you, using a rotary cutter to, um, savagely destory several old tshirts was a very good release after WVU’s loss to Duke on Saturday night. My hands did not stop shaking the whole game so her bunnies are overall a little lumpy and imperfect, but the tshirt chopping – THAT I did very, very well. I love the weight the filling gives to them, too.

So, since I was getting caught up on resolutions, the other day it occurred to me to photograph this thing we do as I assembled one after putting away dry things from the kitchen drain basket. We got the idea from friends in Canada: we chop the tops off of soymilk / juice cartons as shown, scrub them out really well and then slide two together. They make perfect giant blocks like these, but not pretty. Hazel totally does not care that they aren’t pretty. I suppose someday she’ll make them pretty. You would not believe how sturdy these things are.

I get excited when I have a good repurposing resolution. I need to keep those going. I think that gets me caught up to the week before last. This whole week I’m playing catch-up with all kinds of stuff, so I’ll try to bring myself current. I do have a goodwill bag going but I haven’t dropped it off yet so it doesn’t count.

Listening: dog-scratching; husband-typing; CCR in my head; THUNDER!!! in my sky
(I am) Reading: The Poisonwood Bible
(Hazel is) Reading: Pond Circle
(Thinking about) working on: Hazel’s summer clothes – I should do this soon, right? All I’ve made are pajamas. She is living in skirts and capris from last year.

I hesitate to post this for fear of bringing on more snow, but I think… I think… it’s over. Now, I’m not forgetting the year that we got hit with a massive, incapacitating blizzard in March, but that melted off (and flooded everything) quickly because… it was March. These blizzards we’ve had over the past two months are still hanging around to the tune of a little bit less than two feet of snow and a driveway that we still can’t use for anything other than walking, but I am hopeful. Ice is sliding off of the roof in avalanche-like quantities. Our friend Big Damn Snow Bank On The Ramp has died an ugly death. Water is pouring through the gutters. The road is totally clear. There are 54-degree days in the forecast.

That big one is the size of my leg.

Darla and Trevor were home for a few days this week and said they’ve never seen this much snow up here in 20 years, which was a huge comfort and made us feel less INSANE. They asked how we weathered the cabin fever, and all I could think to reply was “well, we’re still married.” I really have felt like that… that if we were still friends by the time winter ended I would be satisfied.

While they were here we spent a few days with Mikey’s mom so they could have the run of their own house, so Mikey could still get some school work done (Kelly and the kids were here too – full, noisy house), and so Jan could spend some time with Hazel, who has barely seen her grandmas and grandpas any more than when we lived in Canada since we’ve been stuck up on this hill so much since we moved here. It felt strange to be in civilization again. Hazel needs new sneakers for running around outside (!)… so I just went out shopping (didn’t find anything). I went to the craft store and forgot something so I just… went back the next day. Amazing.

I feel like I can breathe again. I have motivation again. I finally started five Christmas presents that I had given IOUs for… I just didn’t have the time with the move and holidays immediately after so I let myself off the hook instead of spontaneously combusting from the stress, and then when I did have the time after Christmas I was stuck in the house all the time and there was no sunshine and the thought of making five of the same, very time consuming thing made me panic a little. So… they will be March presents.

I also finally finished those pajama pants before we left for the ‘burg. Some bib-to-be-fabric that never made it, a goodwill-ed pillowcase, and an old brown tshirt of Mikey’s:

Hazel is napping. The sun is out. The house is clean. Mikey is gone. I don’t even know what to do with myself. Edit all those Etsy photos I took last week, I suppose.

Oh yeah, I ripped out this scarf. I got about a third of the way in and realized I can make the cables look way better now that I know how to do it. Plus… it has served its purpose – knitting scarves makes snow go away. Now that I see the yarn made into something I rather think it would make a very nice tiny sweater. Anyone have faith that I could actually learn how to knit a sweater? I’m not so sure.

Listening: drip, drip, drip
(I am) Reading: The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (yep, I’ve now swaptree-ed almost everything she’s written)
(Hazel is) Reading: Welcome Spring (thanks Grandma & Gabe’s!)
Working on: Christmas presents for 2009 AND 2010 – only in my crafting universe does this happen; not giving up on the blue & gold blanket being done this winter; some custom necklaces

Hazel loves her Valentine’s Day gift! She said, “oooohhhhhhh!!” enough times to melt my heart into a puddle on the floor. She has now moved on to tearing up the giftwrap into tiny bits, but the bean bags were super-fun for about ten minutes. I’m really happy with how they turned out, although depending on how much use they get I may find that I wish I’d stitched them differently. I stitched them wrong sides together, turned and topstitched for more sturdiness, and then closed the opening with a really tight zigzag. As I was doing that I was wishing that I’d just done that for the topstitching instead of a straight stitch. Oh well – they will last awhile, anyway, and I can always repair them if needed.

The past few days it has dawned on us that, all of a sudden, we have a toddler on our hands. So far she doesn’t appear to be possessed by demons, but she’s definitely fiercely opinionated and will go into a rage over a small thing if she’s tired. Last night she spied a stack of six rainbow colored cups on a shelf and Wanted Them Right Then Please And Thank You. I gave them to her and she promptly turned the stack upside down and five of the six scattered across the floor, leaving the one she was holding in her hand. She SCREAMED. We suppressed giggles and Mikey helped her nest them back together. She promptly turned the stack the wrong way and they all scattered again. More screaming. I AM PISSED OFF, MAMA. HELP ME NOW. I helped her gather them up from the various corners into which they had rolled, and she sat on the floor, diligently stacking and unstacking them and Figuring It All Out. Once she was satisfied that she could keep them together, she picked up the pile and wandered towards the livingroom to show her Papa her accomplishment. Halfway there… she tipped the stack and they scattered. Her mouth flew open (but nothing came out), huge tears poured from her eyes, her arms stiffened at her sides (one still clutching a pink cup in a tiny white-knuckled-hand) and shook with rage, and she went beet red in a matter of about four seconds. And then out it came – a devilish scream that proclaimed to all of Snake Hill (and probably the Cheat River Valley, too): I CANNOT KEEP MY F%$#@!G CUPS TOGETHER!!!

It’s okay, baby girl. Grownups usually can’t keep our f%$#@!g cups together long enough to make it from point A to point B, either.

After unwrapping her new book she screamed because she couldn’t get the paper back ON the book… but the bomb was quickly diffused (because she was not tired or cranky) by handing her her sack of bean bags.

I suppose this is only the beginning.

Listening: Dave Rawlings Machine (happy V-day, Michael John!)
(I am) Reading: Steady Days (happy V-day, me!)
(Hazel is) Reading: The Family Book
Working on: blue & gold blanket; Etsy mailers

During one of my college summers working for this Americorps program, I had this kid. This. Awful. Kid. By “awful” I really mean that he was charming, energetic, smart, great at reading with his counterparts who could not, witty enough to do some severe laughter-damage to my ribs, and as adorable as all get-out. But as much as I loved him – he was not creative. And I don’t mean that in a way that a lot of my friends say “oh, I’m not creative”, yet they can decorate a room or take beautiful photos or solve problems well – they just mean they can’t draw. I mean we had an entire table full of art supplies and he never knew what to do with it. Huge, deep boxes of found materials just waiting to be pawed through and put to use. Empty boxes waiting to be made into towns. He couldn’t come up with something to draw that was not copied from a picture book or a television character conjured from his brain. If you’d take him outside to play, he’d complain that it was too hot and he wanted to go home to his air conditioning and play video games – he could not creatively amuse himself with some basic sports equipment. He knew every single basketball, baseball, and football rule and could play them all well, but couldn’t play in an open-ended way. He whined several times a day about wanting to go home and play videogames or watch TV. All of his play was centered around videogames and TV. He was five years old and had already forgotten how to play. I became terrified that I would have kids like that and swore they wouldn’t have any screen time, if any, and not play videogames until… I couldn’t even fathom when. Of course it all had to do with his quantity of screen-time I’m sure, but the idea of ANY became scary to me nonetheless. Obviously I’ve loosened up a bit, because my life is full of video-game-playing, TV-watching kids who are awesomely creative :)

Three things could entice my little king of Grand Theft Auto and Spongebob Squarepants: baking projects, water balloons, and bean bags. Each classroom had a set of 26 beanbags stitched with the letters of the alphabet. They always seemed like a simple thing, but I could get my little brood of five and six year olds to do ANYTHING if we were using those beanbags – word games, physical activity, making up stories, sitting through a long storybook while squishing them around, calmed down by the feel of beans trickling through the fabric in their fingers – Any. Thing. Inevitably I would have to take them away because they’d morphed from beanbags into grenades and landmines (yes, landmines), but it was always fun while it lasted.

I was cleaning out some EE stuff at my parents’ house last summer and filed away in my brain the idea of making a set of alphabet beanbags for Hazel when she is older. When I was fondling this red and white polkadotted fabric in JoAnn’s a month or so ago, I was trying to come up with something for her for Valentine’s day involving little fabric hearts. Little soft hearts numbered 1 – 10? Spelling out her name? She’s not really into soft toys and never has been, so I decided to make her some beanbags instead. I still wasn’t sure what to put on them, and then coming across a letter-stamping project in Handmade Home made me decide to simply stamp a few patches (made from an old white tshirt) with some of her loves and stitch them to the hearts. I decided on six and have been working on them, and a drawstring bag to hold them, for most of the afternoon: Mama, Papa, Pears, Dogs, Music & Books. My bobbin ran out 3/4 of the way through topstitching the last heart, which was my cue to take a break and blog the progress. Tonight I’ll fill them with beans and stitch up the holes.

I think they are going to be super-cute and I hope she likes them. I also hope that at age five she doesn’t even know what a landmine is. Just sayin’.