Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Wordless Wednesday: Sunrise on the Farm


Monday, August 22, 2016

Makeover Monday: End Table

A couple weeks ago, my friend Theresa picked up one of those old-school two-tiered end tables for me.






It was out at the curb, and she figured I could make one of those Pinterest Lego tables with it.




Or something.

After eyeballing it for a bit, I decided I was too lazy.

I was going to just paint it, but I thought maybe that would be too boring.

I wanted to do something that would make it stand out a bit, and yet still be functional as an all-purpose end table.

I had picked up some maps from a flea market, and after looking through them, I decided to go with an interesting map of Mount Everest.  I loved all the blues and greys, and thought it would go well with the Annie Sloan Paris Grey I used to paint the table.

After decoupaging, I still thought it needed a little something.  Something for the top.

Explore!  

"Explore" with an arrow built into the word would be just the thing.  I painted that in black and was finally pleased.


The only work that remained was to distress it with my orbital sander, and then add a coat of clear wax.

All done.  I like it!




Do you...?



I'm linking this post up with a few blog hops.  See the list in my sidebar.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

I Have a Problem....



This is all the stuff I've bought in the last few days.

Basically, if I see a wooden thing for cheap, I buy it.  I HAVE to.

May I justify?  That long low 70's style dresser in the front?  Ten bucks.

Yep.

The tall dark and handsome dresser?  Twenty.  You heard it here first.

Three solid chairs, $5 each.

Even that cute little petite upholstered chair was only ten dollars.

How can I resist these bargains?

Impossible.

IMPOSSIBLE, I tell you!

Now I just need to get busy.

Reallllllly busy.

Wish me luck!






(Linking up in some blog hops.  See my sidebar for a list!)


Monday, August 8, 2016

Feeling Inspired

I just got back from a Weekend of Magic.

Though it started out in High Stress Mode, setting out at 6am to meet with someone at my Mom's bank to continue slogging through estate matters, then to the funeral home in a vain attempt to correct a numbers error, it ended so beautifully that by the time I was driving back over the Causeway bridge at sunset Sunday evening, I had all but forgotten about all the stress and unrest of the day before.

My Weekend of Magic began with meeting an old friend at her house at the seaside.  Over the last couple of years, she and I have reconnected, and she has taken care of me in my heart-injured state.  She cooks delicious food for me.  She plies me with wine.  She gives me good books to read.  In fact, on Saturday, as she grabbed her board to head out to the waves, she handed me the book she was reading and said to me, "You should read the first chapter of this book, I think you'll like it."

Sarah didn't get the book back the rest of the weekend.
[And PS, one of the funniest books I've ever read in my life, You'll Grow Out of It, by Jessi Klein.]

Anyway.  Next day - if possible - was even more magical. We drove down to my old home Long Beach Island.  Sarah took me to her sister's shop: Mary Tantillo's Swell Colors.

Ah.  Mazing.

The most beautiful stained glass pieces imaginable.  Plus all kinds of other gorgeous artwork from paintings to jewelry and everything in between.  I walked out with a few pieces in a bag, and a smile on my face.



Then we headed to the south end of the island and our next destination: her good friend Sandy Gingras' shop How To Live.

Was I dreaming?


I was dreaming, wasn't I?

Beauty.
Grace.
Timeless elegance.
Vintage, retro, shabby, farmhouse, seashore, chippy, metal, wood, fabrics, tranquil palette....

I wanted to drop to the floor and roll around, like a dog rolling in a dead thing to embrace the stink.

<sound of record screeching>

That didn't sound at all pleasing or even remotely resembling anything positive.

I wanted to....

I don't know, I wanted to BECOME the store.
I wanted to marry the store.
I wanted to have a baby with that store.
No, I wanted to BE the store's baby, so it could hold me and rock me and sing me to sleep while I sucked my thumb.

Am I making any sense?  I don't know if I am.  I still feel a little disconnected, like maybe I had a stroke or something.

Hold on....

OK, I just went to a mirror and stuck my tongue out and it stuck out straight, not all lopsided like they say it does if you've had a stroke, so I guess I'm OK.

Anyway, I bought a few things FOR ME FOR MYSELF that my budget would allow (restraint was exercised), and then we headed a little further south on the island to Sandy's house.

I could barely make it in the door.  At some point during the tour I quite literally dropped to my knees because they got all shaky and stuff.  I have witnesses.

I could best describe her house as Joanna Gaines goes to the seashore, except that this has been Sandy's own personal style since before even Chip heard of Joanna, let alone the rest of the world.

And if possible, the beauty and peace of her space was outshined (outshone??) by the view from every G-D window of her house.  A view of the bay, and marsh grasses, and docks and boats and the blue sky.

It has even been in magazines.

Of course it has been in magazines.

This house has INVENTED magazines.

They pulled me screaming and crying from the haven of her abode We all willingly and calmly left the house and walked a block to the beach to spend an hour or so enjoying sand and surf.  Once back at  The Most Beautiful Place On Earth, Sarah and I went out on her little Sunfish sailboat where the wind actually pushed our little craft around on the water!  No paddles, no motors, just wind, how cool is that?  And Sarah would say things to me like,
"Be prepared, in a minute the fliibbertjibbit" (or something like that) "will swing around and you might need to

DUCK!!!!!DUCK NOW!!!!!!"

And to prevent myself from getting beheaded, I would lickety-split prostrate myself on her boat in a very contorted position for an overweight 51 year old that doesn't even take yoga.

When we returned to the house, Sarah decided to clean off her boat because she had discovered some aliens growing on the bottom.

We flipped it over to discover millions of ( Idon't even know what to call them. Aliens.) all over the nether regions of her craft.  Imagine coating a 50 gallon barrel-ful of clear black-eyed peas in an equally clear Jello, then gluing this mass to the bottom of a boat, then getting the Snuffleupagus and 30 of his closest friends to sneeze all over it.
Add to that that there were also little spider-like creatures crawling over this mass.
Add to that that when one tried to scrape these snotty blobs off the boat with a clamshell, one got squirted in God-knows-what by a million little pissed-off.... things.

I couldn't do it.  I tried, honest to God, Sarah, I tried, but I couldn't do it!  I have dealt with the testicles and placentas, poop and pee, worms and burs, and fleas and ticks of my animals.  For the love of all that's holy, I have even surgically amputated the talons of one of my chickens.  I have, right in my kitchen, I swear to you!  But on this occasion, I had to walk away.

<bowing head in shame>

I took a hot shower.  I scrubbed off the unimaginable filth.  I will never truly feel clean again, but I scrubbed to save my soul.

Then I went and talked to Sandy for a bit, within earshot - but trying not to notice - of Sarah engaged in her Alien-Scraping.

But the more Sandy talked, the less I sensed what was going on a mere five yards from where Sandy and I stood.

Sandy -- beautful, quiet, talented Sandy -- talked to me about her writing, and her artwork, and of her store and her dreams and her home that she has built in this alien-infested heavenly spot on the water.

And so, as the title of this post implies, I am feeling inspired.

Inspired to write.
Inspired to create more pieces.
Inspired to try my hand at painting pictures, and writing poetry, and just writing more in general.

Because why wait for that elusive time of "Someday When Things Are More Settled"?

You never know when the aliens will take over....


Friday, August 5, 2016

First First Friday

It's First Friday, everyone!
What does that mean?
It means that my little hometown of Oxford, like a lot of towns, holds a community celebration of sorts on the first Friday of every month.
In Oxford's case, they close down the main streets to auto traffic so folks can meander and wander in and out of shops, take advantage of give-aways and discounts, and in general just enjoy mingling with the folks of their community.
Many vendors - Oxford Odds and Ends included - participate in special discounts on this night. For my own shop space within OOE, I will be offering 20% off on all glass and ceramic items in my shop.  
Unique coffee mugs? 20% off.
Interesting little glass vases and bottles and jars? All 20% off.
Since I only just moved into this little space less than a week ago, this will be my FIRST First Friday as a vendor. I'm excited!
Click on this link to see what our town put together for tonight. Looks like fun!


Hope to see you there!


Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Toilet Talk. #FeelingProud.

This post has nothing to do with DIY decor, or furniture refinishing, or how to mix up your own chalk paint.

It has everything to do with feeling proud of myself and wanting to share that feeling. Especially with any others out there that have found themselves on their own and trying to learn to be more independent and self-sufficient.

The downstairs terlet has been broken for a couple of days. I finally had a chance today to go out to see if I could find a replacement part for the piece that was missing. I had no idea what I was even looking for, but was not afraid to ask for help. By the time I left the store I felt like an expert. When I got home, I found the missing piece under the "tower" (toilet lingo. Don't even worry about it) as I had been advised to lift it up to see if it had gotten stuck underneath.

I was delighted. I probably wouldn't even need to use the new piece I had bought. However, when I replaced the part, and gave it a trial flush, it popped right off again because one of the flanges was broken. So I got the new piece out of the package and figured it out. I replaced the old hose with the new one, clipped the new piece in place, waited with baited breath for the tank to fill, and gave her a flush.

Voila! The toilet flushed. The new piece held. The hose held. Everything remained in its proper place and the tank refilled again.

For $2.97, plus the confidence to talk to the plumber guy at my local hardware store and put aside my fear of looking like a moron, I was able to fix my toilet all by my lonesome.

I am woman.

Hear me flush.


Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Wordless Wednesday: Charming Chair

Cute little yard sale chair I bought for $1 and painted.

Likey?


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