Can we find a better word than 'staycation,' please?

I've never been that crazy about portmanteau words, and out of all of them, 'staycation' is one of the most annoying. I mean, for most people, if you are not at work, aren't you on vacation?

I took a week and half of vacation, but stayed in town. Current family finances are tight, so it seemed better to stay home than to make thing more stressful by adding travel expenses to the equation. Instead we hosted some of our kids over the Independence Day holiday/weekend, and then I spent a week doing nothing much really.

I don't feel the least bit sorry for myself. It was the first time since I was in junior high, when I was too old to be babysat and too young to have a job, that I had something like those long and lazy summer vacation days. I got caught up on my sleep and my laundry. I picked berries and made pies. I walked at the local botanical center, and around my neighborhood, and at parks.

It is high summer on the prairie. It's one of the most beautiful things about living in Iowa.

I also worked in my own garden. We expanded the front yard perennial beds a bit, and I spent a day transplanting hostas, mulching, adding pavers and river rock, and building a very short retaining wall.  That deck you see in the background in the photo below is on the short list for next projects around here, but we'll wait until at least fall to start. 

Together, Tom and I cooked up an idea for a discarded floor lamp he found. It's out in the backyard right now, scaring the bunnies and amusing the neighbors. It's intended to be yard art, but it's not quite done yet. I'll write more about it later when we've arrived at its final state. It's still in the middle of the creative process. And there tends to be a lot of middle to my creative processes. Messy middles. We'll see what happens. 

One of the fortunate things about my job is a very generous vacation policy, but for the most part I haven't always taken advantage of that. When I do, it's because family is visiting for the holidays, or we're leaving town for a destination trip of some sort or another. What vacation time I do take, I tend to spend on engagement. 

Engagement is great. It's how you meet new people, discover new places and experiences, embrace the breadth and depth of your relationships both local and distant. I love that part of vacation. 

This, however, was a vacation of disengagement. I stayed home. I slept in. I read books and let my bare feet get dirty in the vegetable garden and I didn't always comb my hair. I took walks alone. I thought about people in my life, some of them pretty hard, and I wrote some, too. 

All of this was deeply calming in a way I didn't expect, but suspect I deeply needed. Vacation so often implies the expectation of a strong "woo-hoo!" factor, knocking things off the bucket list, fulfilling a dream itinerary in a dream location, seizing that day or weekend or week and stuffing every last bit you can into it. 

Instead, this vacation seemed more like an act of self-care, of stepping off to the side of life for a bit to let my own thoughts bubble up to the surface. I'm surprised how long and calm and beautiful the vacation seemed, and yet I have very little to report from the experience. No woo-hoo, anyway. Maybe more along the lines of a-ha. We'll see what comes out of that messy creative middle, as well. 

I still don't have any better word to replace the annoying "staycation." I just know I'd enjoy more of them, more often. 

Wrapping Up More Home Organization

I think of myself as an artistic sort of person. Most of the time when I say that, I mean writing; but I dabble in other things. I sew, cook, enjoy garden design, and other things people would consider to be artistic in one sense or another. Or at least crafty.

Which is why this truth about me makes me cranky:

I cannot wrap gifts.

There, I said it. I'm pretty clumsy at it, and packages from me look like they may have been scotch-taped together by a drunk raccoon. All my crafty efforts in other areas seem to make no difference when I'm confronted by a roll of paper and a gift box. It makes me highly, childishly irritable.

Over time, it's dawned on me that part of my problem with gift-wrapping is that it was such a big production in this house. I had two places where I stored some of the supplies. Tissue paper was scattered in multiple places too. And then I had to run down the tape and scissors from wherever the kids had squirreled it away.

By the time I got to the actual wrapping, I was already annoyed. Not a good way to go into anything crafty, or what's supposed to be an act of generosity. So it made sense to have a dedicated place to do this: a gift-wrapping center.

I actually resisted that idea for a long time. Because gift-wrapping centers smack of all the things I dislike about the Land of Lifestyle Magazine Make-believe-- that everyone's got loads of space in a blank slate of a suburban house and all the money in the world to customize it for a single-purpose use. And all the stuff on the shelves is color-coordinated with everything else and the room itself.

I am not saying that I wasn't attracted to the idea of that. This layout from Country Living is relatively simple and sweet and entirely doable:

Photo Source: County Living

But even doing something like that added a lot of time, effort, and costs to a household that already has several projects ahead of it in priority.

I did decide that finding a dedicated space for gift-wrapping was worthwhile. It just wasn't going to be beautiful.

This was a few hours of effort, with mostly existing stuff, in the corner of the furnace room in the basement. The table is a surplused metal lab/study table from the local university that I moved from another area. The shelves and pegboard were already hanging there. The boxes and basket I already owned, and they hold bows and gift tags.

I purchased the dish organizer on the shelf to hold folded gift bags, and I bought the small metal trash cans to hold the giftwrap. Um, about that. I have an embarrassing amount of giftwrap, I know. I am of the opinion that about 5 rolls at a time are plenty. But my mom gave me her stash, and I got carried away at a sale, and here I am with two buckets of gift wrap. On the upside I should be good for giftwrap for the next 5 years, and I hope to empty out one of those cans for another use down the road.

The window a/c units under the table, which I use in the upstairs bedroom windows during the summer, were already there and I didn't have the gumption to move them just for this picture. They'll be stored elsewhere next season, and I might hang some curtains under the table to store extra shipping boxes out of sight. I also haven't really done anything with the pegboard, but that can also come at a later time.

One other small expenditure: this tape dispenser.

It's a double dispenser, with a small reel for adhesive tape and a larger one for box tape. It has a cubby for scissors and pens. It's also hard to walk off with.

I need to stock up on tape and fill the dispenser, and I'll be ready to go the for the next round of birthdays, or Christmas. I cannot promise that my gifts won't still be looking drunk-raccoon-esque, but at least getting the job done will be less of an ordeal.

As a bonus, the area is not completely dedicated to gift wrapping alone; it will be multi-tasking, and soon. But that is another blog post.

What organizing projects are you up to in your home? What's working for you?

A Half Post About a Half Lampshade Project

I didn't start out intending to break a simple post about a simple lamp shade upgrade into two parts. It's really not that big of a deal. It was getting to it that was the hard part. One of those weeks where I find myself washing dishes at midnight, still wearing office clothes.

My living room is the least offensive room in the house in terms of what the previous owners did to it. That said, it still needs paint, curtains, some electrical, and art hung on the walls. But it's good enough, and has taken a back seat to rooms in worse shape.

I'm in pretty good shape with living room furniture, and that is the positive that earned this room back seat status. I have a good leather sofa, some vintage tables and credenza, and three vintage lamps. This genie style green lamp is probably my favorite of all the lighting I own.

I am smitten by its green glaze and curvy shape:

It's pretty tall, so finding a shade that worked with it was nearly impossible. I found a shape that worked but that was covered in those fussy grandma's house mini-pleats. I bought it anyway and cut the mini-pleats off. That left me with a plain white shade. Some spray adhesive and some cussing later, I had covered it with an unbleached muslin that had brown flecks in the weave:

I thought the natural, slightly rustic fabric was more in keeping with the lamp's era than a plain white tailored (or pleated) shade. That was about 2 years ago. But I always thought it looked a bit plain.

It needed braid trim, but nothing new looked right. So I waited. Then I happened upon just the right thing in enough yardage from Etsy.

The package was beautifully wrapped, but the inner six-year-old me got ahead of the camera-wielding blogger me:

Trust me, it was gorgeous. Bad, greedy, girl.

It's from a Bristol, England Etsy shop called Pouch, and you can hook up with the link right here. Pouch sells bags, pillows, adorable little stuffed animals, and vintage trims. While there were others trims that made me feel all crafty and want to order more, this was the one perfect for my lamp. Yes, restraint is hard:

......And this is where your half post ends, my blog friends. I am sorry. My durings and afters just didn't get shot. We are predicted to have a gorgeous weekend, which means lots of good lighting for photography projects. I'll be back on Monday with the afters.

In the meantime, I offer the consolation of spring, which has finally arrived in the Midwest (I think). Or at least in my front yard.

Have a great weekend!

Whoops, There Goes Another One

There goes another week, that is. I'm convinced time is actually relative rather than ordered. When did it get to be December? Only two seconds ago, and yet the first week is almost in the bag.

True to my-life-is-nuts form, I promised a regular feature on the first Mondays of the month and blew it right away. Why?

Christmas.

I'll be the first to admit I struggle with Christmas. First, because I get grumpy when I see the first Christmas decor come out BEFORE Halloween at the local Stuff Mart. There oughta be a law. Second, because I prefer Thanksgiving, though that's probably because I prefer pie to cookies, and Thanksgiving just plain OWNS the pie category for holidays. Thirdly, I'm turned off by celebrations of overt consumption. Though I'm a fallen Lutheran (I turned in my casserole dish years ago), I still would rather have a Christmas that concentrates more on the meaningful aspects than the mandatory decking of halls and enforced donning of gay apparel.

Fa-la-la-la-la bawk bawk bawk BAWK!

Last weekend I got the tree put together and managed not to swear or break anything. We have a fake tree, which is a new development since I bought the house. We used to live in Michigan, which has acres of lovely and lush Christmas tree farms, and we had some real beauties when I lived there. In the particular corner of the Midwest that I now live, no one would dare give up a square inch of row crop land for trees, and real trees are shipped from Minnesota, two weeks old, already dry as tinder. It's sad and expensive and fake seemed the lesser evil. I will say it's nice not to have to remember to water, and nice not to have to untangle strands of lights every year.

I've thrown up my vintage bottle brush trees on the mantel, shown above. The little boys think the name "bottle brush" is just hilarious. I gathered them one by one over the last ten years, but I think they've now become too expensive for my taste. It's a collection that doesn't need to get any bigger though. I mix truly old Christmas stuff freely with stuff I call "oldish" (like the ornaments that are mixed in with the trees), meaning things made to look vintage but really aren't. At Christmas time people seem to hunger for a past maybe even they can't claim, so it's easy to find Christmas decorations that fit in with the genuinely vintage.

Last year I made the kids homemade Christmas ornaments from craft leftovers I had laying around the house:

I'll probably do the same this year, but I may have taxed the limit of my skills. I'm out of ideas. And time. Still, I like the idea better than buying LPC (the family acronym for Little Plastic Crap).

This weekend is for cookies, gift wrapping, and shipping the annual box off to my sister in Atlanta. Probably a little music to get me in the mood too. At Christmas I listen to music of extremes, like the  Missa Puer Natus est Nobis from the 16th century, and something like Otis Redding.

Are you ready for the holidays? Are you a relaxed or rushed holiday partier? A last minute shopper or an all year planner? However you do it and whatever you celebrate, have a great December!

Quick and Easy Wall Art

I found this super simple display idea at Kudzu, the antique and home decor store in Decatur, Georgia. While the vendor kept it simple with the brown office-issue clipboards to complement the colors in the seashell botanical prints, you could go all sorts of directions with this. Vintage clipboards or new ones covered in vintage wallpaper scraps to tie in with the theme of the art, or the colors of the room. Spray-painted in bright colors to complement that ever-rotating display of kid's art. You could display vintage fabric swatches, advertising, old greeting cards, even doll clothes or pieces of lace with this concept. If you're the type of person who likes to change things up a lot, this might be the way to go!

Twin Boys' Room Part II

The goal for Ben and Joe's room was for it to be a play space as well as bedroom space. Our basement level isn't yet ready for habitation, and the sole living room in my 1939 Cape Cod is too small to host the inevitable tide of Lego pieces, Nintendo paraphernalia, books, and Hot Wheels cars associated with not one, but TWO eight-year-old boys.

Luckily, their room, which is on the second floor, is spacious enough for all of that. While it is under the gable and not a complete full ceiling room, I was able to arrange it with the two twin beds under the eaves (enough head space even for adults), and a big floor space in the middle for play.

A made bed? Who's fantasy world is this?

Above you can see a book shelf niche that was built in to the wall, rather badly. One of the things still on the list to do is clean up the trim, and paint both it and the plywood back. The window that defines the full ceiling height (though it's only really 7 feet) is in between the beds.

Monkeys, bats, and fuzzy puppies.

Above is the other side of the window. You can get more of an idea of the ceiling lines of the room in this shot. The quilts are Nautica, and Mom and I got them at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I like them for their 1950s classic boy's room feel even though they are new. How many times can you go through the register line to use up those "one item only" discount coupons? Just ask me. The pillow shams are sewn (by me) of denim recycled from a futon cover. To be perfectly honest with you, they're only there to gussy up the room for company; the boys wouldn't put up with them on a regular basis. And it's not like this is pillow overload even in this photo. There must be something on the male DNA strand that rejects multiples of pillows. Or throws them on the floor.

"We seem to have run a'bureau, Cap'n!"

The dresser is a few years old, and is another piece of Sears, Roebuck mail order furniture, pine, that I saw fit to paint. I did it with my twelve-year-old son's school desk in this post here. It's already got some dings and wear you can see in the photo. It was from the era in my life (which I'm now over. Who wants to do what everyone else is doing?) when I worshiped all things Pottery Barn, and sought Pottery Barn Look for Barn Sale Price. I've got more money in the new hardware than I've got in the piece of furniture. There's a matching dresser/bookcase piece too, but it wouldn't fit along any of the walls in the new home, and is now in the walk-in closet, which I'd like to turn into a reading nook.

The artwork is a collage I put together of patriotic background fabric, an old Life magazine cover that had become separated from the rest of its edition, some vintage post cards, vintage celluloid buttons, and some military themed ribbon and appliques from the fabric store.

Valentine's Day: I Love My Sister

 What's not to love about this?

My sister, the very same sister superhero of my renovation summer, sent me a package that arrived this weekend. I'm terrible at waiting if it isn't Christmas or birthday, so I just went on ahead and tore into it. And you see above, my lovely Valentine's Day gift.

My sister is a painter (I just love saying that. I love bragging on her talented behind). And the little nuthatch on a branch is just what the doctor ordered for my usual mid-February slump (I'm not much on winter). It's a nice perk of sisterhood with Dyan that I get the blessing of her talent. She also paints pet portraits and jewelry: her Etsy Shop is here.

The little ACEO (Art Cards Editions and Originals, if you've always wondered) came in the pocket of an apron, also made by my sister. Aqua floral, crisp white, and red ric rac. How can you go wrong?

The aqua print is from a vintage feed sack that came from the fabric stash of our Great Aunt Elizabeth. Aunt Elizabeth passed away last November, and we miss her. She was a school librarian and band director/music teacher in rural Missouri schools her entire adult life. She was a little prim, but she was smart and good and an enthusiastic follower of all her many great nieces and nephews, since she never had children of her own. It's a gift with the extra sentimental value built into every stitch.

Here's a closer detail of the fabric. It's so cheery and bright:

I hope you had a great Valentine's Day too!

Fabric Finds: Make Your Own

Have you heard of Spoonflower?
Apparently I am late to the party, but I'm so glad I discovered it. It's a website where you can design your own fabric, have it printed, and then order yardage.

Wait, what?

Let's go over that again.

You can design your own fabric, have it printed, and then order yardage.

I KNOW. Isn't that the coolest thing you've ever heard? And LOOK:

Somebody just said: "I'd like a retro print in lime, coral, and aqua, with little TVs and big loopy circles." And that's what they got! This one is called, "Say Goodnight Gracie," which is the best fabric name EVER.

I bumped into Spoonflower accidentally and coincidentally when I was in the middle of some angst about fabric choices concerning curtains. I like to make my own, because then you get something that's made to fit the window, and in the exact design that looks best (within reason. I've yet to do pinch pleats, though I'm considering learning).

I'm very picky. Pattern, color, whatever. It HAS to be just right. And I have this theory that you really have to love the fabric you're sewing with, or you're not going to love your house when you look at those windows. I detest choosing fabric on the "well, this was the best I could find" proposition. ARGH. And where I live, there's a lot of that. Not a lot to choose from.

Right now we're about at the half way mark with my kitchen. The cabinets are completely re-finished and the new appliances and countertop are in.  I guess I should say the most expensive and time consuming things are in (you'll get an update sometime in the future). But at some point in time, paint and curtains are going to come to my 1970s era kitchen built on to my 1930s house.

But the curtains on the sliding glass door are some sad, limp, dirt beige tab tops from Target. They've stayed there for lack of time to address the situation, and a continuing need for some privacy from the backyard neighbors. Here's a photo. Please excuse the quality, but I guess "before" photos are supposed to be bad, right?

I see these every morning, and they make me want to go back to bed.

Let's get this out of the way: I have something against tab top curtains. I've NEVER liked them. They just look like the manufacturer was too cheap to make a proper casing for the curtain panel. I know that's not the point. The point is that it's a stylistic choice but one that, for whatever reason, my eye rebels against every time I see them.

Vintage Fabric Find

From Rubisco, on Etsy

Just a short post to share a vintage fabric find, this time on Etsy. Etsy seller Rubisco has flour-sack fabric, vintage aprons, afghans, and upholstery cloth. Go check her shop out! I loved the Art Deco design and greens and greys of this feed sack design. It was so unusual, compared to the flowery pastels of many other feedsack patterns. With luck you'll be seeing more of it on the blog soon.

The fabric arrived wrapped in a pattern remnant tied with string, and two old lace doilies were thrown in as a gift. What a lovely touch. This is what makes shopping Etsy so great. And oh heck, so addictive.

Craft: Christmas Birdies

It's almost 1 a.m. people. That's how it gets right before Christmas. I spent the evening stitching instead of writing, and this is what happened:

A little bird told her: don't quit your day job.

I quit before starting the fourth one, a little brown job for my oldest son. I'm going to post and go to bed!

If you're going faux....

If you're going to go faux, faux all the way. This is my philosophy on "silk" or "faux" flower arrangements. Like the Christmas wreath I put together for the front door:

Because nothing screams Mother Earth like green rhinestones and glitter.

There's something so "dentist office" about fake flower arrangements that are trying to mimic nature. And while there's a lot of high quality silk flowers made out there, they still never really fool anyone. So I'd rather just go completely over the top with the flowers that never existed in nature, like green velvet leaved poinsettia flowers. Granted, it looks like a Be Dazzler threw up on the whole thing, but isn't that sort of the point of Christmas anyway? If it doesn't light up, throw a strand of bulbs on it. If it doesn't sparkle, throw on some glitter. The grape vine wreath is (ta-DAH!) actually natural, which I guess kinda violates my "faux all the way," but you get the idea, and the twiggy brown-ness grounds all the glitz.

This was thrown together with discounted items from Hobby Lobby in five minutes. This is single working mom Christmas decorating and (repeat after me until you believe it) I am not ashamed. Merry Christmas!