I did my part today

I rescued things. Saved some space in the landfill. Added to my growing inventory of potential projects.

I justified my junking habit by concealing it in Earth Day. It worked for me.

Urbandale is a gold mine. You should see my garage. And sweet Joel, you didn't say a thing. You didn't even grit your teeth. Thank you.

Here's the rundown:

• 2 old white painted windows, couldn't help it, but I need to stop with the windows for awhile
• chest of drawers, probably 1930's, in very rough shape, but beautiful lines and no mouse droppings
• Singer sewing machine and table, I'm thinking 1940's
• Underwood typewriter, currently diassembling it for parts; I think I need a degree in engineering to extract the myriad pieces
• peach crate complete with vintage labels
• train case
• Adirondack rocking loveseat, in serious need of TLC, but going to be awfully cute on the flagstone half-patio it's inspired me to carve out by the front porch
• rolling metal cart
• bed posts, which are going to be holding up something cool one of these days, I just know it, maybe something to do with my salvaged chair springs
• metal portable file box
• corkboard, TONS of corkboard
• metal planter
• rusty old white wire hanging basket
• HUGE discarded artist canvas, perfect for a huge collage, and since it was free, I feel total freedom in collaging it...I'm thinking some sort of funky family tree
• shutters, shutters and more shutters, good for noteholders
• frames, big and small, no glass
• large shadow box with handle and hinges
• Scandinavian butcher block, since my kitchen is taking on this Scandinavian thing now...after all, I AM Norwegian. By marriage.
• tramp art frame (why someone would toss out something like this, I just don't know, but THANK YOU!)
• rails from a Jenny Lind crib, solely for the spindles
• an ungodly blue and white Home Interiors nightmare of a picture frame, flanked in, yes, SHUTTERS, that I think only needs a piece of my found corkboard and lots and lots of creative painting to become an adorable message center

Thank God we have a big garage.

Not big enough for Joel's lack of patience for my junking habit, but I'm actually working on my projects, so I can hold off his disdain for a few more days. I hope.

I stocked up on all grades of steel wool, dusted off my canister of Durham's Water Putty, whipped out the Dremel, and I'm ready to go. The next few days promise to be very nice, weather-wise, so I've got to set aside a few minutes here and there for some fun.

Clive? You're up next weekend. But only if I clear out this round of creativity!

And is this weird? We still have the crib in which our three little ones each slept for a few years of their little lives. I have a VERY difficult time parting with baby things. I can do it, it just takes time (and a baby who needs it more than I do). OH! I forgot to mention...during our Spring Cleanup here in West Des Moines, we actually DID put many baby things out on the curb. BIG things, like those portable high chairs, the Little Tikes art desk, a major safety gate, etc. And we were fortunate enough to know that these things were going to a family who would really appreciate them. They drove up when Joel was in the process of dragging things out to the curb, and he helped them load up some things into their car. They were very thankful, and it warms my heart to think about it. I hope those things make their little one happy. But most of all, isn't it nice when you can share a human bond with total strangers in this day and age? It's a small moment, but a very memorable one.

In all honesty, though, I'd rather share so many of those that they WOULD seem common and I might not remember them so easily.

OK, back to the crib (which I obviously still have in the basement). I saw LOTS of cribs out there on the curbs of Greater Des Moines, but it got me to thinking. What about using the box spring as some sort of picture hanger? You know, slip mementos between the springs? I don't know. Deep down I know it's just an excuse wrapped in junker jibberish. But maybe it would be cool? Who knows?

P.S. Comets won last night, 3-0, against a team in South Des Moines. I witnessed stunning teamwork, graceful footwork, and plenty of pullbacks. One of the Comets is ADDICTED to pullbacks, but we Sideline Moms gently remind her to JUST DRIBBLE!!!! It's getting more and more entertaining to watch these girls play soccer together after all these years. Things are going to change next year, decisions will need to be made as to which direction each girl wants to take, but hopefully most of the team will stick together just a bit longer.

Sometimes you just have to let it go

Friday. Polk City. Spring Cleanup Day.


I was supposed to be out on a mission for red paint for the front door. And, eventually, I fulfilled that mission. But I went a little out of the way by about, oh, twenty miles, and headed up to Polk City to see what those folks consider junk.


Turns out they throw away lots of good stuff up north. As soon as I pulled into town, I spotted a lovely 1930's vanity, topped with nasty old rugs. I stopped the car, graciously pushed the rugs aside, and although the vanity had a severely damaged top, it was going to be mine.


Until further inspection.


I opened one drawer, a drawer with a lovely carved handle, mind you, and do you want to know what I found? Really? Are you sure?


MOUSE POOP!


Immediately disgusted, I ran back to the minivan and drowned myself in hand sanitizer. But as I sped away, I couldn't help but feel sad. That gorgeous piece of furniture, so horribly neglected that it was allowed to become a mouse house. If it weren't for the mouse droppings, all it needed was a new top. It was so pretty, but sometimes, it's just not meant to be.


These folks also threw out a lovely old rocker. But it violated my ban on upholstered junk. I was tempted to take it for the wooden parts (again, carved loveliness), but given the mouse droppings discovery, I wasn't going to even mess with whatever most probably was living in the cushion on that chair.


I did find some sturdy old boards, weathered and white. A few keyhole cuts and I have a place for the sweet old hooks I found at (where else) Found Things last weekend for 50 cents apiece. I also scrounged a pair of iron brackets that were screwed into solid rectangular blocks of wood, perfect for cutting up into squares for who-knows-what. Two potential projects for the (free) price of one! And a coat rack. I'm not quite sure what I plan on doing with that, but it spoke to me. I also found a smaller version of the plastic container I bought at Home Depot last week to make my own version of Michelle Beschen's Rachael Ray Planters. My pots are square, so this will be interesting. At the very least, I figure I'm out $4 of Quickrete and a few squirts of Pam. At most, I'll have really cool cement planters for the front porch.

(Have you gotten the drift that I'm not the kind of girl who enjoys store-boughtedness?)

Ooh, which reminds me: I had an odd thought about other uses for Quickrete when I was bundling up yard waste yesterday afternoon. Why not use old muffin tins and pop out a bunch of personalize-able edgers? The Quickrete I bought sets up in 20-40 minutes, but my kids are fast. I could pop them out of the molds after ten minutes, I figure, then let the kiddoes go to town with the stamps and doodads I acquired with the stepping stone kit I bought when we still lived in Texas. About time to make use of those, don't you think? And since we ripped out the railroad ties (ACK!) the previous owners used to edge the planting areas around the yard, my au naturel method of mounding mulch, effectively making mini berms around all the irises and daylilies and mums all over the yard, just hasn't worked as well as I'd planned.

Urbandale Spring Cleanup starts tomorrow, or tonight, if you're junk obsessed. I hope my eyes will be discerning enough to discover some more great junk, even though I don't have night vision goggles like some of my junking brethren.

I may be serious, but I'm not *that* serious. Good grief!


I've added a few more locally grown blogs to my list of must-reads over there on the right. Check out JB Knacker and Old Crow Farm. I have yet to make the trip to Gilbert to visit the actual JB Knacker store, but I keep planning to do so. Elizabeth and I visited Old Crow Farm last fall during the Covered Bridges Festival. It was on the way to Winterset, and we couldn't help it (well, at least I couldn't help it). I could have stayed there all day, but Elizabeth was bored so we left far too soon. Maybe she'll be game for Spring Fling in May? A mother can hope!

It just feels a bit lonely, thinking I'm the only person in the whole wide world who finds life in inanimate and somewhat disgusting discards. I'm trying to connect with the underworld of junkers that I just know are out there, nearby, creating in earnest.

Five weeks of my life...

...and this is the result:

Sit-ups/minute: 24 (five weeks ago, FIVE)
Push-ups/minute: 36 (five weeks ago, FIVE)
One-mile run: 10:12 (five weeks ago, 11:59, and it was mostly walking, not running)

Oh, we had our measurements taken once again, too, and I've lost an inch from my hips and waist, although I've gained four pounds. Four pounds of pure, lovely muscle.

And we received copies of our "before" pictures in a sealed envelope after our run this morning. I'm very glad they instructed us to open the envelopes at home.

Wow, those photos are depressing. I thought I looked just fine. Well, I didn't. Yuck.

I always intended to finish the entire ten weeks of the program, but I have to admit I was skeptical that I would see or feel any improvement, especially this quickly. I thought I had to convert to some kind of fitness freak. Well, I have become somewhat of a fitness freak. But it pays off.

I'm even crazy enough to enlist in the F.I.T. program after I finish the next five weeks. The schedule's basically the same: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday kickboxing (45 minutes); Tuesday and Thursday resistance training (45 minutes); Saturday kickboxing/resistance training (60 minutes); and rest on Sunday. I caught a bit of the F.I.T. class this morning before testing, and it looked extremely intense. No wonder they hide it from the 10-weekers.

I treat myself to Coke on Saturday, my "free" day, along with McDonald's. But I've essentially kicked my Dr. Pepper habit. That's pretty amazing to me, considering I didn't think I could make it through a day without caffiene. But it hasn't been the slightest struggle. I have a new affinity for Zone bars, and although I pay attention to what I eat, I don't fret and fawn over it. It was kind of funny last week when Joel was craving junk food: "Don't we have anything bad to eat in this house?", he asked. Well, no, actually, we don't have any junk food in this house. Sorry, Charlie. We weren't poor eaters before this all began, but we focus on the good stuff even more. I don't feel deprived. If anything, I feel more responsible for making sure I feed myself the fuel I'll need to make it through workouts (especially those Friday workouts!).

I celebrated my numbers by adding to my new workout wardrobe: 2 pairs of Nike trim-fitting pants. Just like the ones the F.I.T. girls wear. The same ones that would have accentuated every lame dimple in my backside just five short weeks ago. I've earned these pants, and I'll wear them proudly. I actually don't feel like a poser shopping at Scheel's. I'll actually use these clothes as intended, not just for lounging around the house. Although they are quite suitable for that, too.

The hardest part is getting started. Shutting out all of those voices in your head (I'm not the only one who hears voices, am I?!?!?!?!?!?) that tell you you're too old, too busy, too tired, too uncoordinated, too WHATEVER. I've tried to find something like this my entire life, thinking I could do it on my own. Well, I need a little push, and that's OK. Especially since I'm now more awake, alert, and alive.

Take it from this convert: life is even sweeter when you can endure it and be engaged in it! Go out there and do something for yourself, however you need to get it done. And give yourself time. I always gave up too easily.

Not anymore.

Dremel those blues away

I highly suggest it, as often as necessary. Too bad there aren't a few more things to destroy with Cutting Wheel #4 in this house. Destroy for good purpose. Five years ago, I hung a wire shelf under the chute in the laundry room, thinking that if I positioned a big basket under the chute I could safely manage my washables. I chopped off two feet of the shelf this morning with my Dremel and a hacksaw. Oddly cathartic. And now the hope of a manageable basket of dirty clothes that I could tote from chute to machine has become a doable hamper settled on the floor, a few feet further from the hole in the ceiling. No more attacks from falling socks. Dirty falling socks. Gross.

It was a dumb idea in the first place. I tried to solve a problem and created a new one, then sat stuck with it for five years because I was afraid of what life would be like without the comfort of my mistake.

Must be a transition period in my ten-week boot camp or something, because lately I've been feeling rather existential.

Obviously.

On the other hand, I'd forgotten how much I cherish my safety glasses. They're pretty stylish, and, well, safe.

And now my colors, whites and linens are neatly sorted in individual hampers, waiting to be fed into the monster LG and tossed gently with tepid water, lavender biodegradable detergent and steam. Sweet blessed steam.

Steam solves all the world's problems. Or at least that's what it says in the LG Owner's Manual.

Art is helpful, too. After many months of neglect, always doing something else, I rifled through my feeds this morning and stumbled upon ;) Things With Wings and Other Things. Elizabeth and I spent an inordinate amount of time in their booth at the Valley Junction Art Market last spring. It's very happy stuff. Good for the soul!

Up way too late...

...but sleep's for chumps, right? Actually, I need to have one of these late night solitude things every once in awhile to clear my head. The older I get, the loss of sleep isn't worth the clarity of mind, but I live dangerously.

It's been a frustrating day. I hate to say it like the entire day was a loss, because that's not it. It's just it would have been another perfect day, minus the frustration. The sprinkler service stopped by this morning to officially initiate spring and its water bills, but after two hours of waiting for him to finish doing whatever it was he had to do to make the water run, the morning was over. I think he was new...

I was expecting Mom and Dad around lunchtime, so I called to make sure their arrival was still pending before heading over to Home Depot with Ben. Just random things, like T-cranks to replace the traditional eye-pokers on Ben's windows and some picture hangers. Hung up the cute little wooden plate painted bright red, blue and yellow and decorated with the phrase "tack så mycket". I had a hunch that might be Norwegian for something, so not only would my find look cute hanging by the backdoor, but it would allude to Joel's Norwegian heritage. Too bad he's not Swedish. It turns out "tack så mycket" translates to "thanks so much" in Swedish.

Still, the plate's cute. And I'm still jealous of Joel's Norwegian-icity. Being generally German is sorta dull.

Then computer stuff came raining down just before Mom and Dad appeared. But I was determined to spend my time with them and away from the blasted computer. The last time I visited them at Thanksgiving (YIKES...someone's ungrateful daughter needs to do the driving more often!), I spent much of it on their computer. Same for Christmas here at the homestead. I vowed (and they strongly encouraged) to never let that happen again. So I didn't. And it disappointed people who are not Mom and Dad.

But I don't regret it. Too much. I am, after all, sleepless at this point. What the heck for? It's a thing I love and hate about me, all at the same time. I want everyone to be happy, I feel I have the capacity to do it, but I know I don't have a bit of influence over anybody's happiness but my own. Still, when I feel I've got something worth sharing and someone finds value in it, I tend to overdo it. I need to draw a line somewhere between jerk and pushover.

Anybody got a Sharpie?

I felt INCREDIBLE on Monday, grooving with my garbage. While Sprinkler Man was here this morning, Ben and I mixed up vinegar, water and dish soap, grabbed a squeegee, and polished our windows to the best of our ladder-less ability. It felt GOOD to take care of things immediate to me and see instant results. It felt GOOD to spend time with Ben, not stressing over what I need to get done. It felt FREE. It felt like I should have pulled out the ladder and cleaned every single window on the house, but then it felt like I should wait for my weekend backup (Joel, that's you, honey).

And, selfishly, I want more FREE. Especially over the summer. Now that the kids are all old enough, I plan on taking little mini-adventures with them. Elizabeth and I thought that the kids could point at a place on the map, close to Des Moines, we'll learn what we can about that place and then go and visit, cameras in hand. Iowa has so many offbeat places that we need to take the time to experience. So that's what we'll do. I don't think the kids share my creepy yet genealogical fascination with cemeteries, but we'll have to hit some of those on our way, too, for historical purposes.

I inherited a bit of wanderlust, just the slightest, from my Grandpa Ross, I like to think. He would hop in the car and ask whichever offspring was nearby, "Hey, you wanna go for a ride?" And before you know it, they would be in Oklahoma City or Davenport or some various locale hundreds of miles from home to visit obscure relatives. If I were around, and if I were wise enough to figure out his game, I'd have made sure I was always the Rice kid closest to the car when he made his appearance.

One last salvage item: I repurposed one of my windows and set up a new gallery display in the living room yesterday. I basically just scrubbed one of my heavily painted white windows and screwed on a cute little iron bird's nest doodad I picked up at Jo-Ann's this weekend. I hung it by the front door. The iron doodad has three hooks on it and the nest itself, so I need to hang and stash things there, but what? And I plan on prying the Dremel, the tool I just had to have so many years ago, out of it's nearly intact box and etching something on the glass. I think I want to see a little Bible inspiration when I come downstairs in the morning, so I'm leaning towards Psalm 118:24. Check it out. You'll recognize it. Wouldn't that be a good thing to read when you start your day?

And "gallery display" sounds so high-falutin'. But it's basically a triple frame of each kiddo's newborn portrait with a matching triple frame hung above that containing more recent photos in the same order. Right now, the recent photos are all from a trip to Dairy Queen when Futsal season ended in early March. (Reminder: take more pictures of your kids, you sorry excuse for a mother!) I flanked the two triple frames with portraits of the kids' great-great-great-great-great grandparents. Totally random, but I love those pictures of Hugh and Sarah McGee, Sarah looking all business and Hugh looking all henpecked. I moved my little thrifted sewing table under the frames and placed the double frame of Mom and Grandma Mary on top. And I finally found a place for my Grandma Mary collage. I made an easel out of an old fork, believe it or not, and it's completely appropriate. Even Joel thinks it's cool, so I've really hit on something. Literally. With, like, a hammer and stuff.

Joel says I have to get rid of the bookcase in the living room since it's the only piece of purchased case goods there. Note "case goods". I mentioned before, and it's worth mentioning again: I DO NOT, as a rule, thrift upholstery. I saw something on "Dateline NBC" about the resurgence of bedbugs, and I don't want to send out an invitation.

Bedbugs would most certainly make a day most frustrating, I imagine. I'll stick to bugs of the technical kind and leave the blood-sucking ones on someone else's sofa.

Trash to treasure

As promised to some of my online acquaintances, here is an example of what can happen when you go out for morning errands and it just happens to be Spring Cleanup day. People throw away cool junk:

There it was, all forlorn and sitting by the curb near Sacred Heart Church. This little solid oak piece is stamped on the back, "MALLARD, IA". It is missing a mirror as there are gaps between the tabletop and the back of the chest. It use to have a door on the front opposite the drawers, which were all missing. The tabletop was split along the curve in the front, but nothing a little carpenter's glue and clamps couldn't fix.

And it was very dirty, of course, since it was intended for the trash collector. I vacuumed out all of the fluffy stuff. I used some old rags and my secret weapon, Howard's Restor-A-Finish. Yes, and some good ventilation. That stuff does the work, but it's so good it's majorly toxic. Consider yourself warned. I followed up with more old rags and Howard's Feed-N-Wax, let the wax soak in for a good twenty minutes, then buffed up to what I consider a dramatic shiny change.

Since the innards were all gone, someone had tried to salvage this before and stapled luan dust shields into the missing spaces. Tile to the rescue here. I just happened to have three pieces left over from a tiling project, and they fit perfectly into the spaces formerly occupied by that nasty luan. Beautiful.

As luck would have it, I had drawer pulls to fit perfectly where the originals were missing. I thrifted the pulls, too, of course, at Habitat for Humanity ReStore; if I recall, I paid something like ten cents for three. Absolutely charming, and I'm so glad I finally get to use two of them on a project.

I laid that monster of a doily I crocheted on the top, then a thrifted lamp on top of that. I placed a small number of my antique book problem, I mean, collection, inside. I used a wicker basket to fill up the space formerly covered by a door. Those three little doodads on the top shelf are rusty old finials I found at The Majestic Lion.

My new old piece of furniture cost about a dollar, including labor. (I work cheap.) All in less than an hour, to boot.

Another man's trash truly is another man's treasure.

Now on to the other ongoing projects in my workshop. I think the windows are my next victims. More later! I have to go play!

Go Comets!

The first soccer game of the season went down last night. Sam and Ben and I had to shuffle to baseball practice on the other side of town, so all I have is the second-hand play-by-play. But the final score was 4 to 1, a loss for the Comets (I still like Atomic Flounders, but it seems E and I are the only ones partial to that team name!). This is the fifth season the girls have spent together. I can't believe how much they've grown since Cubs!






And I can't believe how snarky they've become, either. Joel told me that during a time-out, he asked the girls why the other team was able to score goals on them. One of the girls shouted out, "Because we SUCK!" Not exactly (they WERE playing against a team of farm kids who may or may not have been in the 9 to 10 age group).





This is probably the last year Joel will be coaching "his girls". They'll be moving up to the competitive league soon. It's bittersweet. He enjoys coaching so much, but he insists he knows too little about soccer to actually do the girls any good. We both know, though, that the depth of his soccer knowledge doesn't really matter. I'm pretty sure all of the girls will remember Coach Joel for the rest of their lives. Good role models tend to stick with you in your memories.





The Easter Bunny spent the morning at Michael's with a hot little 30% off everything coupon in her hand. The Easter Bunny is not a very fun Easter Bunny, in a traditional sense. The LeMar kids get one chocolate bunny each, but the rest of their basket will be filled with art supplies. The Easter Bunny pilfered the Crayola aisle, of course, but also snagged some fun paintbrushes, sketch books, five big bottles of glitter-infused tempera paint, and naked wooden picture frames. Stickers, too, of course. And she has a few other things up her sleeve for Sunday morning, including mixing cement and creating some garden stones for the backyard.

I also stopped in to Jo-Ann. Fifty-percent off all notions, and this girl uses lots of notions. I prefer glass-head pins, and for three little reasons (Sam, Ben, and Elizabeth), they seem to disappear. Poof. Just like that. So I needed more of those. And I treated myself to this while I was at it:

Those Stampington people. Crazy creative. I'm treating myself to a good read after class tonight. And Papa Murphy's (it's my "free time", these next 12 hours, and although I don't go as hog wild as some, I do allow a little craziness with the food).

Ben and I raked through the garden this afternoon. Now, the rake is about five times as large as my little fella, but he wanted to help Mom, so I let him try. He went back to his spade, though, and worked diligently to move scoops of dirt from one side of the yard to the other. My hyacinths and vinca are blooming. And we even dug up a few earthworms. Tiny ones, but fascinating nonetheless. All of my piles of garden rubbish are built up around the plantings right now, and I'm hoping that Grandpa Jerry owns a woodchipper that he wouldn't mind lending to an in-law in need. I could seriously run a mulch manufacturing outfit from my backyard, and that's only counting the branches dropped from my neighbor's rather bountiful (and quite dying) walnut trees.

Costco has a big ugly Eco-Composter on sale next week, and I might actually spring for it if I can find a place to conceal it (Jodie would be so proud of me!). The Habitat For Humanity Re-Store also carries Earth Machine composters, which aren't quite as ugly and whose purchase benefits more than my Costco account. Here in West Des Moines, yard waste must be placed in bio-degradable bags. You buy them in bundles of five at the supermarkets. If they aren't Metro Waste Authority bags, then you have to buy Compost It! stickers for the store brand bags. Gail calls them "extortion stickers". I couldn't agree more.

This summer, though, West Des Moines actually has a new program: buy a container for $100 and a season pass for $100 more, and you can just forgo the bags and stickers.

What. A deal.

Although I totally understand the reasoning behind keeping yard waste separate from recyclables and regular trash, it's almost too much to keep up with all the rules. Why not chuck it all into a big black bug-looking contraption and make my own dirt? Could be fun, right?

Off to order my sinful pizza and then off to be beaten into shape by the "Fitness Nazi". She's this spunky little sadist in charge of Friday Fitness Kickboxing. She looks so sweet and charming. Until she starts barking orders. When she's in charge, I nearly pass out by the end of class. But you know what? I rather like that feeling. Once I make it home and reflect on it while soaking in a bath hot enough to numb my poor body into a muscle coma, that is.

I complain, but it's all in jest. I'm loving this. Next Saturday is our Five-Week Assessment. I already know I can perform in the sit-ups. Now it's just a matter of running that mile, running it the entire distance, and shutting out the thought that I have to walk somewhere along the route or I will surely die. That's the hardest thing for me, and I'm sort of excited to see if I can actually make it happen when it counts.

I just wish I could exchange the run for a 30-mile bike ride. Even 100 miles, I hate running so much. But apparently they don't allow exchanges.

Dang it.

Junk solution FOUND

Leave it to local creative diva, Michele Beschen. She's been making regular appearances on the Rachael Ray show, and it seems I missed the most recent episode (or maybe it hasn't aired yet? I am a clueless one.). However, the web rescues me again:

Window Shelves

I rescued a few more windows during our recent Spring Cleanup, two HUGE square double panes painted a lovely shade of mint green and two rectangle single panes painted white about a hundred and two times. I was thinking of them as painting surfaces, but I really like the shelf idea so much better. I know I have some brackets around here somewhere, but I know I can figure something out. Maybe some pretty chain and a DROPDOWN shelf, hmmmmm? All I know is I really have to finish my not-so-little website redesign project so I can get to work with all of my new old treasures. It's killing me to keep away from the workshop!

And it's pathetic how many in-progress projects I have in this house. My walls are pitifully bare. They need some art.

P.S. Who knew about those jewelry armoires? Repurposed for the kitchen AND the garage? LOVE IT!

P.S.S. Now if I can just find a really cool idea for the springs I mentioned the other day. They're about five inches in diameter, taper toward the middle, then expand to about three inches in diameter at the top. Quite unique. Right now, I'm thinking art dolls of my family. But I'm sure if I avoid work a bit longer and waste more time on Google, I can find something much more inspiring.

P.S.S.S.S.S.S. My Mom is totally dying over there. How could she have raised a kid who plays with garbage?

DIY Walnut Ink

This stuff is all the rage in altered art, and Tim Holtz has a lock on the market. But our neighbor has a huge walnut tree along our fence line, so it makes no sense for me to buy walnut ink. What's a DIY girl to do? Make it herself! DUH!

I actually found this recipe in an American Girl book at the IRLC book sale a few weeks ago, and even though the book was only a dollar, I couldn't justify bringing yet another book into the house just for a walnut ink recipe. Hooray for the World Wide Web! I found the following recipe on Historic New England:

Walnut Ink

Materials
Shells from 8 walnuts
Small strainer
Kitchen towel
Small bowl
Hammer
Small saucepan
½ tsp vinegar
½ tsp salt
1 cup water
Small jar with lid

Instructions

1. Fold the towel in half and place the walnut shells into the center of the folded towel. Use the hammer to crush the shells in the towel.
   
2. Place the crushed shells into the small saucepan. Add the water.
   
3. Heat the walnuts and water on a stove until the mixture boils. Lower the heat and continue to gently boil (simmer) the mixture for 45 minutes. The water will turn dark brown.
   
4. After 45 minutes, turn off the heat and let the mixture cool for 15 minutes.
   
5. With an adult helping, pour the mixture through the strainer into the small bowl.
   
6. Add the vinegar and salt to the mixture and stir until the salt is dissolved.
   
7. Pour your walnut ink into a small jar. This ink dries very quickly, so keep the ink jar tightly covered when you are not using it. Note: Walnut ink stains fingers and cloth, please be careful when you use it.

How fun is that? No more trips to Michael's when I need a fix of vintage color. Just a quick trip to my backyard. And I don't even need an adult's help...I AM the adult in this recipe.

Ben and I went to Jordan Creek Mall this morning for some playtime. We arrived before the rest of the crowd, and we were one of three families there at 9:00 am. Three families, but NINE CHILDREN. Yes, that's right, NINE CHILDREN! A couple pulled in with a five-seater stroller, two sets of twins and three singles, the oldest not even in kindergarten. It made me tired just to see them. Furthermore, the parents emitted this happy vibe that was just contagious. They obviously enjoy parenthood. I wanted to give them a high-five or something, but (a) I'm sure they get that all the time, and (b) I'm Iowan again, and I realize how little Iowans like to have their personal space violated. When they were leaving, though, a mall-walker did stop them, her jaw practically on the floor from seeing all of those babies, and the father stopped to chat while the mother, very purposefully and nearly oblivious to adult human contact, steered that tremendous stroller towards the parking lot.

I was so proud of Ben, too. SOOOO many babies crawling around that play area within a half hour after we arrived, and my dear Ben made sure he didn't frighten or stomp on any of them. He looked down before going down any slide, making sure the coast was clear.

What a sweetie-pie. :)

Elizabeth is absolutely on Cloud Nine because Coach Chapman is in charge of soccer practice next Tuesday. Joel called me from work to tell me that he'd just set it up. Coach Chapman told E in P.E. today, and I'm not sure how we're going to make it to next week! Rob Chapman is the coach of the West Des Moines Valley High girls' soccer team, the same team that's reigned as state champions for the past five years. He's a big deal to little soccer players hoping to someday be a part of that team, too. E even took her new soccer ball to school last week for Coach Chapman's autograph.

Sam is keeping Ben company with a mega art project in the family room. It involves tons of paper (we kill many trees around here). But it's sweet to see how he takes care of his little brother. It's rare behavior, but all the more precious when you see it happening.

Went to the early FXB resistance training session today, sore as ever since I'm "moving up bands", as required. We use Spri Xertubes in class, yellow being for beginners, purple for advanced. I'm in the green/red/blue range right now, and I'm good with that. Lower body isn't as rough as upper body for me. I thought I was much stronger in my arms from toting around toddlers all these years, but those folks at Farrell's introduce you to muscles that you didn't know existed on your person. Today was lower body, so although I won't be able to walk up the stairs to bed tonight without physically lifting each of my legs onto each step, it will eventually all pay off.

Don't be too impressed, but I ride my bike to the gym, too. Why not be impressed? Because the gym is less than five blocks away from my house. It takes longer to get in my car, drive, and park. Plus, you know how I'm practically as green as Al Gore. OK, maybe not *that* green...after all, I don't currently have access to a chauffeured limousine that I leave idling in the middle of summer to maintain a comfortable air-conditioned temperature while I'm inside the U.N. telling the rest of the world to conserve energy, but I'm trying. I really am trying...

More junk

(Shhh...don't tell Joel. He thinks it's a bad habit.)

It's a rare quiet moment. Joel took the kids to Sam's baseball practice, and in fifteen minutes I hit Farrell's for my Monday dose of kickboxing. I'm playing catch-up with my water before class because today I've been neglectful of my hydration. Too busy deconstructing my junk!

I've had this gorgeous little oak chair sitting in the basement for about two years now. It's very fragile, and I'd already ripped out the seat and cushion. Now, normally, I don't thrift anything upholstered, but this chair was just too special. It looks like it may actually have been handcarved. I just couldn't bear to NOT buy it. It's rather old because the seat was stuffed with kapok, and you just don't see that much anymore. Hundreds of tacks are testament to the fact that someone tried to rescue it several times over the years.

Plus, it has cute little wooden wheels on the legs. A very nice old-time feature for which I am a complete and total sucker.

Joel targeted it for disposal during our Spring Cleanup day last week, but I begged him to let me turn it into something. So, today, I cut out the five huge springs still tied to the seat. They're very sturdy, and I can totally see them as the foundation for some altered project. I lovingly removed every single remaining tack keeping the webbing on the seat and back, and I ripped off the legs. Now I'm left with a curvy carved chair back...I'm thinking some sort of towel rack or other hanger or display. Joel just stared at me and my pieces, saying, "I'm glad you're creative, because I just don't see that."

I also ripped apart a Windsor chair into its spindles. LOTS of spindles on those Windsors. I was flipping through an old copy of Somerset Memories this weekend and spotted a project that used spindles very much like these. The artwork was strung onto them with ribbon. Adorable. Now, totally doable by me for totally no money.

I ripped apart a bunch of silk flowers I've been unable to part with, removing the blooms and leaves from their plastic stems. No use for the stems, although I could have probably stripped off the plastic and used the wire for something, but that just makes me tired thinking of it. I have a box full of pretties now for collage.

My little craft workshop, ahem, STUDIO, is really taking shape. I was sorting some more things out, making room for my new old components, and I wanted so badly to stay there and make things. But I have a website to redo, and I promise myself I can't play until that's finished. April 15 is my deadline. April 15 is always a good deadline, don't you think?

Cleaning, au naturel

I got to escape to one of my favorite places, the Urbandale Library, for a couple of hours Saturday afternoon. Of course, I filled my tote bag to the brim and wound up carrying a few more must-reads in my arms. I'm quite a sight hobbling up to the checkout counter, but at least it's an easier trek now that I'm all buff and such. I picked up several goodies, notably Sweater Surgery(oh so many cute bags and doodads from lowly sweaters...can't wait to give some a try, because many of you know how many desperate sweaters I've rescued from Goodwill) and
Green Up Your Cleanup. I borrowed the latter book last summer, but never really took the time to delve into all of the cleaner recipes. Well, with sloppy snow falling steadily all day today and no incentive to go out this afternoon, I got to play.

I half-heartedly gave the whole natural cleaning thing a try the first time I read this book. But I have to admit that it's rather painful to give up Comet. I have a thing for bleach. One of my fondest childhood memories is climbing into the bathtub, still a little gritty from the Comet cleansing Mom had given it earlier in the day. Knowing my Mom, it was like that nearly every day. She cleaned constantly. And it wasn't lost on her kids!

Some kids grow up to be comfort eaters. I'm a comfort cleaner. Fewer calories, but more carcinogens.

I've had my steam washer and dryer for a few months now, and I rarely find the need to add Clorox to the wash anymore.

Baby steps.

So today, I grabbed one of the large yogurt containers I stash in the basement for craft projects or other various secondary uses. Tossed in a few tablespoons of baking soda, a big squirt of Dr. Bronner's (rose is my favorite), sealed the top and shook up my Comet-substitute. I was skeptical of using this stuff to clean a bathroom, but you know what? Works beautifully! The secret is that you have to wipe the paste all over the surface (countertop, shower, tub, shower door, etc.), wait a few minutes, then spray it all down with vinegar. I don't necessarily enjoy the smell of vinegar, but it does dissipate quickly and you do need this step to break down the baking soda and eliminate grit.

Eliminate my beloved grit. But since this is baking soda grit and not Comet grit, then it's not as traumatic.

And what's the worst thing that can happen to my children if I miss a spot when rinsing down the tub? They'll smell like salad. Much better than growing an arm out of their back. Not that I know anything about that as a child of a Compulsive Cleaner, but I'm just sayin'...

This stuff also works swimmingly on my glass cooktop. Since I haven't yet gotten the timing down on boiling the milk for my oatmeal, this has become a morning ritual.

And one last hint from a Heloise-wannabe: microfiber cloths. Buy LOTS of them. I find the best-quality ones at the auto supply stores. Plus, they come in huge packs of different colors. And yes, I color-code my cleaning cloths. Orange for the kitchen, blue for the bathroom, green for toilets. Even though I have a Sanitary setting on my washing machine and an Anti-Bacterial setting on my dryer, and I use them more than I probably need to, I don't think anyone would want to wash dishes with the same rags they used to clean toilets, right?

Ew.

Toilet-cleaning. I have my secrets, but that's for another day. Let's just say toilet brushes are disgusting, and I don't own one. Me and the toilets go mano-a-mano with the green rags and, yes, Comet (old habits die hard). I wear gloves. That's all you need to know for now.