Iowa *hearts* art and my heart works...who knew?

As the days of leisurely perusing the morning paper surely wind down, I enjoyed this morning's Iowa Life section my Des Moines Register. They featured a story about Market Street Media Foundry and their upcoming Market Day. I know Des Moines is a terribly creative place. It just has this vibe about it, hard to explain. Maybe it's always been this way but I never noticed until I was interested in art myself. But I keep discovering new art and new artists just about every day lately.

And I think you'll know where to find me on May 30 and every last Saturday of every month through late September.

I'm still organizing my craft acquisitions. I ripped apart the crib railings I picked up for the spindles. As I gave them one whack with my hammer, then one more, and saw the railings fall apart so easily, I thought, "Wow, glad I'm not a baby." I have a whole bucket full of beautiful spindles now, both Jenny Lind and traditional.

I also ripped apart an old Kenmore sewing machine and an Underwood typewriter. Marvels of modern engineering, I have to say. Do you know how many pieces and parts I have now? Beautiful little bits and bobs of metal.

I collected more at Carousel Antique Mall in Story City on Sunday: interesting buttons, wooden casters to replace the missing ones on some of my trash day finds, a very old celluloid album (marked "perfect for collage"), a beat up "Cupid" candy tin, and a cute little aluminum kitchen helper to stow foil wrap, waxed paper and paper towels. I passed up a Remington typewriter, complete with cute workable typekeys and merely $25, but I really need to make things before I acquire any more parts.

Joel is tiling the old wet bar by the backdoor. He can be so funny, going with the flow more often than not, but being such a stickler for details in home improvement projects. Not that I mind! I just worry that the old wet bar is going to outshine the rest of the first floor and Joel will be assigned to resurface the entire kitchen.

The kids spent most of the weekend outdoors, which is a big deal for them. Mom and Dad are grateful for pleasant weather. Our neighbors have a trampoline, a treehouse and a zip line, so the kids spend most of their playtime begging to go next door while our Rainbow playset sits unnoticed out the family room window. It gets some play, just not as much as we thought it would. Joel and I were thinking like kids of the 80's, back when iPods were about as conceivable as flying cars. It doesn't take much to impress us. Unfortunately, kids just keep getting more and more sophisticated. And Joel and I keep sounding more and more like old fuddy-duddies, starting most sentences with, "Back in MY day...".

If I hide this here, in the middle of this post, maybe it won't be so noticeable. My FXB results. Yes, the ten weeks have come and gone. And, no, I didn't win the big $1,000 cash prize.

(And, no, you don't get to see the full-body before-and-after shots. I just don't think it's appropriate to splash my half-naked body over the Internet. Even though, had I won the $1,000 cash prize, my half-naked body would have been splashed over the Internet...)

About 70% of the people who started in March finished the program, so I feel pretty good being in that group. Here are my results:

TEST RESULTS	PRE-TEST	5-WEEK	FINAL TEST
Sit & Reach	21	21 3/4	20 3/4
Push-ups	5	36	42
Sit-ups	5	24	32
Body Weight	137	141	140
Body Fat %	26.8	27.2	26.2
Run Time	11:59	10:12	9:41

BODY MEASUREMENTS	PRE-TEST	5-WEEK	FINAL TEST
Arm	11	10 1/2	10
Chest	36	35	34 1/2
Waist/Middle	33 1/4	32	30 1/2
Hips	40 1/2	39 1/2	39
Thigh	21 3/4	21	19 3/4

So, no, I didn't lose much weight. I'm cool with that. And you can say I didn't lose much fat, either, but SOMETHING happened. I did get leaner. I had LOVE HANDLES! YIKES! I didn't even realize it! Now I can see my belly button. I feel stronger. Joel marvels at my biceps. That run time? That's for a one-mile run. Not fast, but I actually RAN the entire way for the final test. About halfway through I realized I felt somewhat euphoric and was telling myself I should do this more often. I know. CRAZY TALK!

I earned a blue attendance card for the year-long program (well, yeah, and I paid for it with something other than blood, sweat and tears, as in cold hard cash) and attended my first class as a 10-week graduate Monday night. I realized how far I'd come by helping the new group struggle through all the awkward movements we do in kickboxing and the endless push-ups and sit-ups and burnouts.

Joel encouraged me to take a week off and get back into it next Monday, but I couldn't stay away. I need exercise now, much like I need food and water. I felt so blah yesterday, going back and forth about class, until I finally walked in and felt the glorious rush that comes with kicking and punching things.

I'm hooked.

See? I always knew my obsessive-compulsive nature would eventually reveal its practical side.

Pet ownership world record

Three days. That's all we could handle of little Cosmo.

Or that's all Cosmo could handle of us.

He's a great dog, but the kids aren't ready for a pet in the house, and now that Cosmo is back on the farm, it seems Joel and I weren't ready to be parents once again. Even if our new baby was of the furry variety.

We brought Cosmo home a week ago Friday. Then we introduced the kids to him after school. Sam flinched and hopped and otherwise avoided Cosmo at all costs, spending most of the weekend on top of a pile of pillows on the couch, out of Cosmo's leap.

After a very long few days struggling to acquaint ourselves with Cosmo, we came to the very tearful decision of returning him to Eddyville.

I got to take him home last Tuesday. The best thing that could have happened, though, happened. He leapt out of the car and could barely contain his happy wiggles once I unhooked his leash and set him free. He was happy to be home. I lost it while handing over his toys and food, items it made no sense for us to keep when the breeders could certainly make use of them. I lost it as I drove away, even with Cosmo still wiggling all over with the joy of being free from his leash and the suburbs.

But it was the best thing for now.

Happy Mother's Day!

How do you celebrate? Around here, it seems the baby gets sick and pukes on upholstery and bedding. Usually, this is just what happens. The kids get sick for the morning, then they're up and at 'em by dinner time. Crossing my fingers! But keeping my Steam Vac handy.

Elizabeth and I went junking in Clive Friday night, but we were outnumbered by more enthusiastic Dumpster-divers. I did manage to snag a free Xerox copier. The note attached promised, "It works, just needs toner". It will be the perfect addition to my workshop for doing some hardcore image transfer (the images aren't hardcore, you filthy mind, but the transfer involves chemicals and requires toner to work!). Toner is pricey, but not quite as pricey as a new Xerox copier or a new laser printer, for that matter. I'm game.

While Ben and I were in Southeast Iowa Friday meeting Cosmo and his family, I couldn't help but stop to check out some local thrift. I found the aptly named Antique Shop on the square in Oskaloosa. (The locals affectionately call their town "Osky". Just thought it was cute!) I found an antique blue notepad and a tattered lotto game with all the card and numbers as well some glass chips which kind of remind me of Tiddly Winks. The grand total? Five dollars. Gotta love that. And the nice ladies who own the shop appreciated that Ben didn't break anything and let him choose a toy from their stash. He picked a stuffed Blue Jay, so Ben walked out of there happy, too!

Joel just called Three Rivers Farm, and Cosmo is all set to come home with us Friday morning. He'll be bringing a Puppy Pack of essentials to start with, and we're buying a crate, collar and leash this week. The kids are each choosing a toy for him, too. We live in your typical Des Moines two-story, which means our master bedrooom closet extends the width of the garage on the floor below. It even has a large window on the far end. It's really quite nice, I must say, even though I'm no clothes horse. So, instead of housing my non-existant career wardrobe and ballgown collection, our closet will now serve a higher purpose as Cosmo's den!

I can't help but feel mothering instincts kicking in for this little lab! I just cruised around Petco.com, shopping for a crate, and actually got a little emotional thinking about having the pitter patter of four furry feet in the house. (And I have to add, being the coupon whore that I am, I snagged a 42" Midwest LifeStages crate, the one I've found to be most recommended for Labs, for 10% off with free shipping to boot! YAY for never paying retail!) I think Cosmo will make a wonderful addition to our family. Added bonus? No stretch marks! :)

Elizabeth and I biked to the Des Moines Menace soccer game last night. It was the first time she's witnessed "grown-up" soccer live, and she LOVED it! They handed out carnations for mothers last night and cowbells for noisemakers. Hilarious. It was a really fun time, and it didn't hurt that the Menace beat the Rochester Thunder 2-1. E was fixed on the game the entire time, picking up "cool moves" for her next game.

And while the ride TO Valley Stadium was pleasant, the ride HOME was almost bitterly cold in comparison. We rode a little faster just to keep warm!

Ben recovered, as expected, by mid-afternoon. Whew! I pushed him on the swings for a little while, but then he turned an odd greenish color so I switched to snuggling. It was beautiful outside today, so I unfurled a beach blanket next to the lilac bush in the backyard (well, the lilac bush in my neighbor's backyard, but it's close enough!) and read all about Labs. Ben was a little peeved he couldn't tag along with E and Sam and Dad to Petco, but he was happy to see all the toys they chose for Cosmo!

Meet Eddy Cosmo!

Well, at least that's what I think we should call him, since he was born in Eddyville.

(EDIT: Mom was out-voted, 3-to-1! Ben voted for "Robby", I was stuck on "Eddy", but everyone else loved "Cosmo" at McDonald's this afternoon, so Cosmo it is!)

He needs one more week with his mama, and then we can bring him home. He lives on a small farm now, with cattle right across the one-lane dirt road.

The suburbs will be shocking!

We do have a veterinarian within walking distance, and West Des Moines even has hours set aside at the local pools for dog swimming. Really! So, it won't be like a farm, but I'm pretty sure Eddy Cosmo will adjust smoothly.

We met mama and papa. Papa is 110 pounds, with mama not far behind. They are both four years old. And just like any other four-year-olds, they were very curious about Ben. Papa gave Ben quite a fright trying to kiss him, since Ben is a wee bit shorter than the dog! Ben started crying, and both mama and papa backed off and looked up at me with the sorriest little faces I've ever seen, as if they wanted to say, "Gee, we're sorry! We just wanted to make friends! We didn't mean to scare the poor kid! HONEST!"

(I'll post pictures of the whole family next week when we add Eddy Cosmo to ours.)

Seeing those two huge dogs act so sweet and kind, given their enormous size? I'm sold.

And, oh boy, are those little puppies soft. Eddy Cosmo has two brothers and three sisters. The sisters are all yellow labs (they got that from their father, whose grandfather was a yellow lab), and the brothers are all chocolate labs like Eddy.

See, doesn't it just sound nice? EDDY? :) (Yeah, until you get overruled!)

I should have been doing this already, but today I'm stocking up on books regarding labrador care. We have a week to prepare and accumulate supplies. A metric ton of food, too, I understand.

Spray paint solves all the world's problems

Really, it does! Cover up the ugly with the color of your choice (Rustoleum's Regal Red is a good one) and watch the old become new again. I coated two of my found shutters and my formerly Army green organizer a happy new shade of red.

I'm not sure what I want to do with the shutters, but right now I'm thinking of them as a place to display Christmas cards during the season. I can just prop them up against a wall. Joel, my dear sweet supportive husband, even suggested using them to display photos. See? He's coming around!

We have a really not-our-cup-of-tea wet bar by the family room, and you see it right as you come through the garage door. This is where the organizer needs to go. It looks like a bunch of magazine holders nailed together, but tidier. (Note to self: post picture 'cause you stink at describing this thing!) So, in preparation, I ripped out the wet bar sink and it's annoyingly tall faucet yesterday. Now we have a clear landing area for all the things we haul through the door when we first enter the house. A clear landing area with a big hole in it where the sink used to be. But wandering around Menard's this morning, I spotted a kitchen display with tiled countertops. We have backer board leftover from tiling the kids' bathroom. We have grout. And we'd only need a box of tile, six feet of bullnose and one corner piece. Oh, and a borrowed tile saw (thankfully, Joel's dad and brother each own the heavy duty tools). I've got myself a project! And I've gained a ton of storage space by cutting off the water pipes and drain inside the lower cabinets. I envision making this whole thing look more built-in and not so pre-fab. I think I'll practice my cabinet painting skills over here, where you don't necessarily expect the cabinets to match the kitchen cabinets. I'm sneaky like that.

And I almost forgot! I neglected to mention that I picked up the treadle-part of a New Home treadle sewing machine in Norwalk's garbage on Tuesday. I've ALWAYS wanted one of those, what with the fancy wrought-iron and all. It was pretty rusty, but nothing a jar of Naval Jelly (that conjures up some weird images) and spray sealer won't cure. The "New Home" is stamped out in brass letters on each side of the treadle, so while I'm entertaining the idea of covering all the rust-damaged patina with flat black, I'm more inclined to just leave it as is. Fabulous.

I'm going to Eddyville tomorrow morning to meet who is likely to become our family pet, the cute little chocolate lab I posted about yesterday. He'll be weaned in two weeks, and then he can come home with us. But, being my anal self, I have to go check out the farm and meet the breeders and feel comfortable about all of this. The kids have already created a list of chores, divvying up duties by their initials. "Poop" is at the top of the list, and "S B E" are each responsible for cleaning up. "S B E" are thinking about names, too, while thinking about chores. "Cocoa" was in the running, but when we found out that only one male remained from the litter, we started leaning towards "Scout". I think it'll be like naming a baby; you just don't know what to call him until you meet him.

Got an hilarious e-mail from my little brother tonight. Laughed until my face hurt. HURT! He is brilliantly funny. I was trying to read it to Joel, in between laughing spells, but Joel just doesn't get it. My family has a very unique sense of humor, and if you don't get it (Joel), I wish you could! My sister-in-law, Shannon, feels the same as Joel. I never knew how warped we all were until we married people from this planet!

Discarders of Norwalk, I salute you

I've determined, with almost scientific accuracy, that the best junk to be had by far lives in small towns. Norwalk is no exception. They held their annual Spring Cleanup Monday and Tuesday, and I spent yesterday morning perusing the curbs in search of interesting trash.

(I have to add, too, that there is just something about roaming the countryside on a beautiful spring day, with all the windows open. If you are ever down in the dumps, hop in your car and go for a ride off the beaten path. It will pick up your spirits, guaranteed. Bike rides are good, too, but sometimes you just need the kind of wind in your hair that you can only get above 45 miles per hour.)

My Norwalk haul:

• One very interestingly woven bamboo chair, in great shape, just faded. I like faded, and it's sitting on my front porch.


• An old wooden box filled with rusty things, old Prohibition-era brown bottles, blue medicine bottles, and one glass bottle shaped like a fish (scales and all). VERY filthly, but nothing steel wool and soap and water couldn't fix.


• A metal gym basket (love those!)


• A nifty slotted organizer which has motivated me to finally rip out the wet bar sink (we're not the wet bar types) and totally renovate the cabinets by the back door to accommodate our family papers. I'm so sick and tired of all of our ephemera (doesn't junk mail sound better as "ephemera"?) landing far outside of its designated basket. I'm not the athletic one in the family, but my aim is the best in the family, oddly enough. This will involve some basic plumbing and a new countertop, since there will be a sink-sized hole in the existing countertop. The cabinet under the sink is HUGE, and I think it needs some pull-outs to organize the kids' craft supplies.


• Wow, I digress!


• A beveled mirror


• A cathedral-shaped window (absolutely TO-DIE-FOR, and I will be cleaning it up and hanging it over the whirlpool tub, after attaching a little shelf for pretty bath things...you know, the kind you look at but never use?)


• An old tilt-out basement window frame, no glass, but three openings. Three kids, three openings. I sense a photo collage...


• Miniature porcelain Christmas angel ornaments (!)...now, this one made me a little sad. I usually don't dig through boxes, but for some reason I stopped at the curb and saw these spilling out. I grabbed my work gloves and, well, went to work. Found a nesting Santa doll (ala those Russian nesting dolls) and a tole-painted rocking horse ornament, too.


• Filing supplies (letter tabs, etc.) for collage along with two basketball clipboards (the kind that you sketch out plays during a game, but, of course, I'll be using them for some collage adventure instead)


• One side of a crib, just for the spindles. Lovely, lovely, LOVELY spindles.


• An old wooden pencil box with latch, painted orange

I only accumulate to the capacity of the Town & Country's storage area, and then I go home. As far as I know, only two more Spring Cleanup days left for the year: westside of Clive and Ankeny. I need to get cracking on some of my projects, at least the deconstruction, to make room for anything else that may be out there, waiting to be rescued and repurposed.

This gives me the opportunity to accumulate weapons, er, TOOLS, as well. I'm entirely freaked out by a recent spate of home invasions and sexual assaults being perpetrated in Waukee and West Des Moines. This crazy dude busts through windows in the middle of the night and attacks young female occupants of the target residence. Most recently, he attacked a sleeping couple in a townhouse right next to the ballpark where Sam plays Little League. He held the man at bay with a knife while he raped the woman.

"Nightstalker", anyone?

Police just announced yesterday that they've linked the suspect to a March rape in Waukee. They have his DNA, so that's a good start. And they mentioned that the Waukee victim was not chosen randomly, but they "refuse to elaborate". That tells me that they're on to someone, which is nothing but good news.

I inherited my "true crime" thing from my Grandma Mary. I would be a decent detective, I like to think. And in all my research (every single episode of "Cold Case Files" counts, right?), I've noticed that crime victims usually aren't pet owners.

I'm not a gun person. I know some women who sleep with kitchen knives under their pillows, but I doubt I would have enough wherewithal to actually wield a knife upon being startled awake by a crazed lunatic. Same goes for being able to reliably aim pepper spray at an attacker.
I'm rather confident Joel would seriously hurt this creep if he happened to choose our house. Heck, I KICKBOX, for crying out loud. I kickbox like a girl, although I bet I could throw a few Chuck Norris-style in self-defense. But I'm taking no chances.
We're getting a dog.

That's right. It's taken uncomfortably close random acts of violence to persuade me that adopting a dog is not such a bad idea after all.

We just started looking, and I'm terrified of puppy mills, so I'm not quite sure where to find a reliable breeder. I really would like to adopt from the Animal Rescue League, and we visited the West Des Moines kennel yesterday. We met Jade, a five-year-old puggle.

When the worker brought him out of his kennel, I got teary-eyed. How cute is that dog?

Joel took the Elizabeth and Sam to meet him yesterday, too. I'm in love with Jade, and the kids would be happy with any dog, no matter what. Joel isn't sold, though. He would like to take the rest of the week to look at other dogs, too. And I can't argue with that.

(Just look at that face, though!)

There's also Trudy, who we haven't met in person, but who is a boxer/husky mix:

Unfortunately, our options at ARL are limited, since most of the dogs are not good with children under the age of seven.

So, the puppy farm. We found a breeder in Eddyville who has chocolate lab puppies available this month:

How could you not love that face? I think Ben and I have a trip to the farm in our near future (like, this morning). My only reservation is how big this cutie-pie will be when she's fully grown. Our neighbors have a golden lab, absolutely precious, but somewhat intimidating. But, hey, isn't that my point entirely? A loving family pet who scares away potential intruders? It's not like it's going to be her lifelong responsibility to ward off danger (we do live in West Des Moines, after all, where the biggest threat to security is usually teenagers throwing toilet paper in your trees).

We're also thinking boxer. Suggestions welcome!

Ho hum-de-dum

I drive up to our house, several times a day, and grimace at the sight of the faded purple front door. Maybe it was smokin' hot red at some point in our home's short history, beaten down by the long afternoons facing west into the hottest sun of the day. But let's face it: it was ugly.

I'm going to pat myself on the back here and announce that my days of procrastination are over. I've reached a point in my life, maybe midlife, hopefully on the longer side of that (!) where I've realized that there is no perfect time, no perfect color, no perfect ANYTHING. I've wanted to paint that cursed front door for as long as we've lived here. That's five years. I've been denying myself that simple gratification for FIVE YEARS. How ridiculous is that?

So I bought a pint of cranberry Rustoleum, busted out the Purdy's, and PAINTED.

(And inhaled copious amounts of toxic fumes. This was enamel we were working with. Even more toxic cleanup with paint thinner. And acetone for the parts I fudged, even with a rather excellent taping-off of the door hardware, if I do say so myself.)

It may have taken five years, but I finally have that red door.

We spend so much of our lives in fear, don't we? Fear that whatever we do won't be good enough. Even when we're talking about paint colors, for crying out loud. Good enough for whom? You? Your neighbors? The occasional stranger who passes by walking their dog? Who cares? It's not like the Paint Police will prevent you from tossing another ten bucks out the window if you change your mind and decide you like green better than red, right? It's not like you can screw up *that much* with paint. Enamel is a bit tricky, you do have to be a bit more careful since you know oil and water (and therefore simple cleanup) don't mix. But if you see something in a magazine that you might like to see in your home, that triggers your taste-o-meter. Follow it.

I even asked Joel to dismantle all four of the pathetically dull builder's grade outdoor light fixtures disgracing the front of the house. Rustoleum makes a wide variety of spray paint these days, so I selected a nice textured dark brown. Scrubbed them all down with steel wool and a little soap and water, painted, and reassembled, complete with lovely amber flame bulbs.

I figure I "saved" Joel at least $400 in new light fixtures.

And those frequent approaches to the front of the house are infinitely more enjoyable. (I'll post pictures tomorrow. And then you can see the large vacant expanse of potential outdoor living space that's been, well, vacantly expansive for two years. With all my preachiness, I myself still have yet to turn on a dime. But I'm working on it. I have ideas. Just need time and inspiration to execute!)

Don't worry. Don't fret. Just do. I've wasted far more time *thinking* about doing than actually *doing*. *DOING* is so much more fun. I highly suggest it.

Which reminds me: I have an entire garage bay full of "to-doing" to do! Next up? That clever hammock I picked up for $2 last summer at a Beaverdale garage sale. Rustoleum to the rescue once again. And I think a can of red will do quite nicely for the frame. The original sling is, well, frankly, disgusting. Covered in mud, ripped in places, forgotten and forlorn. The seller was nearly ashamed to help me to the car with it. But I'm only using it for the pattern.

I look forward to enjoying some lazy afternoons with the kids in that hammock THIS summer.

No more waiting.