My Big Life in a Small Town

Miss Thing gets a Makeover

2010-04-13T22:04:00.013-04:00

What a difference a week makes and "Miss Thing" definitely had a good week!

After all of the comments came in here and from my guest post over at The Country Chic Cottage for What Would You Do With It Wednesday, the majority of you said that you would make Miss Thing into a bead or button sorter. There were some other really creative ideas too, but this one really intrigued me and was more what I had in mind when I bought her.

As a reminder, this is what Miss Thing looked like when I brought her home.

After sitting down with some paint and craft supplies, she began to take on a whole new look.

First, I applied a couple of coats of Heirloom White spray paint to the base. I didn't take photos of this process, but suffice it to say the base went from a light woodgrain to Heirloom White. It was like magic, I tell ya!

I set that aside to dry and started to work on the individual vials.

I tore out sixteen pages from a vintage French print book that I have. Now, I can hear you gasping, but don't freak out about me tearing up a vintage French print book. It is a simple paperback called "Teach Yourself French", not a classic tale by any means!

I used distressing ink on the pages to darken the torn edges, but they already have a great aged patina look to the pages because the book was printed in 1964. Yummy!

Then I applied a line of glue along one edge of the page so that it would adhere to the vial.

Then I simply rolled them around the vial in various directions. Some wrapped directly around, some wrapped on an angle, because everyone loves a variety, right?

When finished, I sat them back in the base which was now dry.

Then I went diggin' in my bottomless stash of ephemera. This is where the fun began!

One at a time, each vial took on a personality of their own as I added baubles and trinkets and ribbons, oh my!

Then I stood back and looked at the entire piece and the base just appeared to be way too stark white to go with the vintage look items that had been applied to the vials. I got out one of my all time favorite rubber stamps and randomly stamped the base with French Script words in all directions.

Then, using my paint brush, I randomly dry brushed some ink smudges and smears around on the base to shabby it up a bit. Perfect!

Then I set about filling it with the vials. The following photos need no explaination, but they sure are pretty eye candy!

You likey? If so, it can be yours! It's listed on Ebay this week and you can see even more photos of the rest of the piece by following this link to my Ebay listings.

I will be linking up this week to a bunch of fun party links too, be sure to check them out for more great home decor and craft ideas!

DIY Day at A Soft Place to Land

Trash to Treasure Tuesday at Reinvented

Market Yourself at Sumos Sweet Stuff

Motivate Me Monday at Keep it Simple

Met Monday at Between Naps on the Porch

Just Something I Whipped Up at The Girl Creative

Toot Your Horn Tuesday at A Silly Little Sparrow

Second Time Around at A Picture is Worth 1000 Words

Penny Pinching Party at The Thrifty Home
Show and Tell at Blue Cricket Design
Spotlight Yourself at It's so Very Cheri
Works for Me Wednesday at We are That Family
Look what I Made at Creations by Kara
Whatever Goes Wednesday at Someday Crafts
Show off your Stuff at Fireflies and Jellybeans
Thrifty Thursday at Tales from Bloggeritaville
Strut Your Stuff Thursday at Somewhat Simple
Transformation Thursday at The Shabby Chic Cottage
Under $100 at Beyond the Picket Fence
Get Your Craft on Thursday at Life as Lori
Show and Tell Friday at My Romantic Home
Inspired By at the Inspired Room
Feature Yourself Friday at Fingerprints on the Fridge
Frugalicious Friday at Finding Fabulous
Saturday Nite Special at Funky Junk Interiors
Metamorphoisis Monday at BNOTP

Til next time!

Lisa

Me and Miss Thing

2010-04-06T19:26:00.000-04:00

Hi Everyone!

I have some exciting news! Wednesday, I am going to be the feature on this week's What Would You Do With It Wednesday, over at The Country Chic Cottage! I was totally excited! First, because it is my first feature, EVER!!! Second, because I have the perfect piece to ask "What would YOU do with it???"

I was shopping at a local Goodwill a while back and was coming across all kinds of goodies that were catching my eye and jumping into my cart. I was having a wonderful day with what I like to call My Little Pretties. I rounded a corner and suddenly saw this strange thing sitting there on the shelf looking back at me.

I managed to get out of the store that day with out her, but a few weeks later, I went back to the Goodwill (What can I say? I am a chronic junker and thrift store addict) and the first thing I saw when I walked in, there on the shelves of doom sat this strange little thing, staring at me, almost daring me to buy her. I hadn't given her a second thought, but when I saw her sitting there staring at me again, what was I to do? I had visions of a science project gone wrong, the base kinda reminded me of a mushroom, but I was totally intrigued by her.

I walked over to the shelves of doom and went to pick her up, when I noticed she spun. Oh even better! A spinning mushroom science lab! The entire base sits on a lazy susan of sorts. For some reason, the fact that she spun intrigued me and I just knew I could do something really fun with her. But what? Never one to back down from a challenge, I said "Okay Miss Thing, you are coming home with me." She has been affectionately known as Miss Thing ever since. And for the price, I figured I couldn't go wrong. The tag read $1.50, but it was 50% off day, so I got her for 75 cents.

So, now she had a home, but I had no idea why. I still don't. That is why I am so thrilled to be here today asking all you lovely readers "What would you do with it?" So bring on your witty comments, oh crafty readers of blogland! I can't wait to be inspired by you all! Just leave a comment below or head over to Angie's blog to leave a comment there. Then tune in next Wednesday where I will be showing off what Miss Thing ultimately becomes. I am sure she will be something just fabulous!

Til next time!
Lisa

Everything's Coming Up Roses

2010-03-25T06:56:00.005-04:00

A couple of weeks ago while reading Living With Lindsay, one of the blogs I follow, I was intrigued by an event that she was hosting.

The event, The $5 Challenge, is a challenge to shop for the supplies to make a spring decor item while spending less than $5 total for the item. I like spring, I like home decor projects, heck, I even had five bucks. Always up for a challenge, I decided to give it a whirl.

Well, naturally, when I think spring, I think flowers. When I think $5 or less, I think dollar stores. When I think dollar stores, I think of my favorite, The Dollar Tree. So off I went, with my $5 in hand to see what kind of trouble I could stir up.

I went up and down the aisles, pondering possibilities, picking stuff up, putting stuff back. I started out with this little guy in my hand.

I then found this fun bag and thought okay, Easter theme.

I just wasn't feeling it. Then I rounded a corner and inspiration struck me when I saw the most beautiful roses, blooming right there on the end of the Dollar Tree aisle.

I picked out my $5 worth of items and headed for the checkout. Oh, the Easter bag and the little clown dude managed to come home with me too. More about them later.

For the record, I love the shabby cottage look. Shabby cottage with roses, even better! So, it came as no suprise that when I sat down to work on this challenge, I was having no trouble whatsoever getting into my project. This time, I think the project may have also been getting into me. Into my hair, under my nails, on my clothes... yeah, things were happenin' ...

But in the end, it was oh, so worth it!

I ended up with a Shabby French Bulletin Board, a Trinket Box, and six notecards made from a gift bag and paper I had on hand. I then paired them with the three file folders and a set of sticky notes I had purchased, that didn't end up being part of my projects, just matching accessories that make for one stinkin' cute shabby chic desk set, right?

But wait, there's more!

(I always did want to be my own info-mercial)

Part of the challenge was to provide a tutorial on the projects that I did. So... without further adieu, let's get our craft on!

I started out with paint. Two coats of off white acrylic paint on the trinket box and the frame of the bulletin board.

The trinket box took a little longer to dry, so I set it aside and started on the bulletin board. Using a small dot of glue in the corner, I started to glue down the beaded trim in a diamond pattern.

Where the trim crosses itself, I added a small dot of glue to hold it in place. It wasn't rocket science, I just criss crossed the trim to make diamonds and cut it off where it reached the edge of the frame. I noticed that the cork was flexible enough to lift it up a tad so I cut it a bit longer than needed and tucked the edge under the frame for a nice finished look.

Then, cause it ain't shabby unless it's chipped, I took my handy dandy nail file to the edges and chipped em' up good and shabby.

The end result:

So I set the board aside and tackled the trinket box. I gave it the same treatment with the nail file on the edges of the box.

I noticed that the wood was really light in comparison with the bulletin board and wanted to make the set match, so I went and got some wood stain that I had left over from another project. Yeah, I never said I wasn't a messy crafter. Don't judge.

I dabbed some on the raw wood to darken it a bit.

Let it set for about thirty seconds to soak up that Golden Oak goodness (???)

Then I wiped it off with a paper towel. Worked like I planned it that way. Next, I had to focus on the inside of the box. I cut two pieces of the gift bag to fit inside the lid and bottom of the box.

Using Mod Podge, I glued them in place.

I wanted to make the box lid functional as well, so I added a piece of the trim to it and glued both ends in place but left the middle part unglued so that stamps or small mementos can be tucked in behind it. Neat huh?

Then I decided that it needed something extra. Oh, who am I kidding? One of the dang beads fell off and I had to think fast. I raided my button stash and glued on a cool button to make it look like it was part of the plan all along. Cause I am good at thinking under pressure and stuff. Uhem...

Next I started to work on the outside of the box. First, I added another piece of the bag to the top of the lid.

I coated the lid with Mod Podge, set the paper in place, then did another layer of Mod Podge on top to seal it. This helps make the outside stand up to handling and easy to dust. Not that I dust, but one could if one were so inclined...

It dries clear and to a matte finish. Suddenly this tutorial is a lot like watching paint dry, right? Huh. While the Mod Podge was drying, I cut out three flowers from the bag and made these springy doo-dads.

You might be wondering what a springy doo-dad is for. Or you might not. Either way, I'm gonna tell ya. Just hold yer horses and don't get ahead of me. I took the first of the cut out flowers and glued it to the lid of the box.

Then, the other two get what I can only describe as the knuckle treatment. I put the flower in my hand face down and rubbed it with my knuckle to round the paper. This gives them a curve and when you glue them onto the box they will pop up and be all nice and dimensional for you. Here is the process in pictures.

Okay, now for the springy doo-dad. I bet the suspense was killing you, right?

I fan folded a strip of paper and added glue to one side of it.

Squish it back together so the folds get glued into a small block.

Yeah, it's messy, but what fun is crafting if you don't get messy? Notice the paint on my thumb.

This little springy doo-dad will give the flower added dimension and support as you build your flower pop up on the box. And for those of you out there screaming "Doesn't she know about those foam dots?" First of all, stop screaming, it's rude. And second, yes, I know about them, but this was a $5 budget and I didn't want to add to my costs. Geesh!

I added a bit more glue, squished the flower to the doo-dad, then glued the entire thing on top of the first flower which was now dried on the box lid.

I then cut out three random leaf shapes from the bag, gave them the knuckle treatment and added them to the lid by gluing them under the layers of flower petals.

Now for the big finish. I laid out a line of glue all around the box and glued on more of the beaded trim to finish off the lid. One problem, right smack dab in the front of the lid, the trim had a flaw in it. Back to my button stash and presto change-o, another button saved the day.

Now what good would a bulletin board be without some cute little matching custom made push pins? That's what I thought too! Back to the button tin (thank you Grandma, your button tin is a treasure trove of vintage buttony goodness!) and a fun selection of buttons to work with.

Flat backed ones work best, but I had one that had a loop on the back.

I used a pair of wire cutters to cut off the plastic loop and made it as flat as I could.

Then I applied a dot of glue onto each push pin and added the buttons.

These got added to the bulletin board for a fun, finished and totally coordinated look.

So then I set about cutting up the rest of the gift bag into pieces to layer onto cardstock to make cards to go with the desk set. They are shown below with the finished items.

So there you have it, my first $5 challenge. All total I only spent $3.50 on the Dollar Tree items, as I had half the gift bag left over, so I am waaaaaay under budget here, folks. That never happens! Here's another peek at the entire desk set, all blinged out with her accessories.

Not too shabby, huh? Sorry, couldn't help myself.

I'll be linking up to some of my favorite parties through out the week:

Funky Junk Interior's Saturday Night Special

My Romantic Home's Show and Tell

Between Naps on the Porch for Metamorphosis Monday

A Soft Place to Land for DIY Day

So let me know what you think with some bloggy comment love.

Til next time,

Lisa

Mammogram + Retail Therapy = 50% off

2010-03-18T17:30:00.002-04:00

I never was any good at Algebra, but bear with me, because I think I got this equation right.

Today I got to partake in the experience of my first mammogram. I am convinced that the whole process was invented by a man. It had to be. No woman would ever invent such a monstrocity of a machine with the intention of voluntarily sticking her own tender body parts in it only to smash them beyond recognition. He knew, I tell ya, he knew that as long as it was for body parts he didn't have, that it would never come back to haunt him. I now think that there should be a machine of equal torture for men and I intend to get started on inventing it as soon as this aching subsides and I can think straight once again. And, for the record, I don't think they will ever be the same. I am hoping that someday they will forgive me. I am also swearing off pancakes for the time being.

So, as I was ~~running and screaming~~ walking out the door of the Women's Health Center, the sunshine was streaming down through the awning overhead and I suddenly realized how beautiful the day was turning out to be, even with the rather rough start I had just had. I had no plans for the rest of the afternoon because, frankly I didn't know what to expect. My thoughts going into this experience ranged from leaving the appointment whistling a tune to crawling on my hands and knees begging for someone to get me an icepack. It was somewhere in between the two. I didn't need an ice pack. I needed therapy. Retail therapy.

I headed for my car and after settling into the seat and very gently buckling into my seat belt, I headed for the best therapy I could think of: Value World!

I was driving along, enjoying the sunshine, listening to my favorite tunes and wondering what kind of goodies I was about to find at one of my favorite thrift stores. I have a notebook that I keep in my tote bag which has a list of ongoing searches for specific items I am hunting for. Having just returned from Florida and doing some great thrifting there, I hadn't taken the time to update my list. So, I decided when I pulled into the parking lot that I would wing it and left my list in the car. That's living dangerously, no?

I walked in and the place was HOPPIN! I have never seen so many people in the store at one time, so I knew something was up, but I didn't have a clue what was going on.

I wrestled for what felt like an eternity with the shopping cart from Hades. I managed to get it out of the cart corral with only a few odd looks from other customers. Okay, so I was a bit cranky, but if they only knew how my day had started, they might be more understanding. Whatever. Deal with it people. On with the hunt.

When I shop at Value World, I usually head right for the back of the store and make a sharp right hand turn to the left, head all the way down the aisle and turn back around, perusing the items on what I call the "shelves of doom". There are two stores I shop at that have these shelves, Value World, and a local Goodwill Store. The shelves in both places are one in the same. Crammed as full as possible with the oddest of combinations of items you ever saw. Today was no exception.

I started my journey through the shelves of doom and quickly came upon my first find.

A few weeks ago, I was reading blogs and came across a fellow thrifty blogger that had fallen head over heals in love with a finial in the Pottery Barn catalog. But like the rest of us, she hadn't fallen in love with the $19 and $39 price tags and she made the neatest version of her own finial.

Pottery Barn

I am sorry now that I don’t remember what blog it was that I saw it on, because she did a bang up job of it. Anyway, when I saw this item, it reminded me of the post and the fact that she had simply spray painted the items to make her own. I can spray paint.

For $2.02 I quickly added this little gem to my cart. And yes, if you crank your head upside down you will see that the tag in the picture does say the original price was $22.95. Score!

Moving along, I came upon my next item of interest. This pretty curtain rod holder. There was only one of them sitting on the shelf, but that was okay by me. I didn’t want it to hold up my curtains. I have plans to use it in my studio to hold lengths of ribbons and vintage lace. I have been looking at these for quite some time and finding them priced really high, like anywhere from $5-10, even at thrift stores. What, are they made of gold or something??? You don’t know how many of them I have passed by, like this one, last week in Cincinnati.

They wanted $10 for it and I just wasn’t going to pay that. Even though it would have matched my theme in my studio better, I am just too cheap.

So, when I saw this one for $3.63 I figured I had better jump on it. Not literally of course…

I kept finding little odds and ends here and there, looking them over and putting most of them back on the shelf. A few items did manage to make it off of the shelves of doom and into my cart. Two darling little saucers that I am pretty sure will go well with two darling little cups I found in Florida, or was it Cincinnati, I don’t remember. They were 30 cents and 40 cents. How could I go wrong?

Though I need another basket like I need another hole in my head, I always stop at the basket bin. It is like some kind of gravitational pull draws me to it. I dig and sort like a dog who has buried a bone and can’t remember where he put it. Usually I can get through clear to the bottom without finding anything I can’t live without, but this time I found these two matching wire planter holders.

I think with a little cleaning and some spray paint, they are going to look awfully cute on my patio steps this summer with some red geraniums in a terra cotta pot. Heck, I may not even paint them, as I kinda like their rusted chippy goodness. Maybe just a clear coat of poly to seal them. I bought them, cobwebs and all. They were 95 cents each.

Immediately following the basket bin is the pillow bin. It has the same weird gravity thing going on as the basket bin. I am sucked in I tell ya. I have never found a pillow at Value World that I couldn’t live without and really felt that it was a waste of my time to look there today. However, because I was already there specifically to waste time, why not just take a look-see? Boy was I ever glad I did!

Again, I am in the midst of redoing my studio and plans are to include a futon/daybed that I intend to line with pillows. I have found three pillows in my thrifting efforts so far, but when I stopped to look today, I was able to add two more to the collection. First, an adorable tiny embroidered pillow with a green ribbon attached to it. At first I thought it might just get lost in the pile of pillows, and I almost tossed it back in the bin, but after thinking about it, I decided it would make a darling door hanger like one that I saw a few weeks ago at JoAnn Fabrics. And for only 80 cents? Poof! Into the cart she went. She was quickly joined by this beauty.

Look at that gorgeous Battenberg Lace! The cover comes off for washing (I had already taken it off when I took this photo) and the insert is super soft and cushy. $2.20!

As I am digging I kept tossing this chair cushion from side to side. It kept coming back to the surface time and again and I was starting to get a bit irritated by the dang thing (remember my delicate condition was affecting my mood) when I finally stopped to look at it.

Hey, those colors would go perfect in my studio, and remember that chair you picked out of the neighbor’s trash heap last fall that you’ve been meaning to paint? What if? Poof! She joined her pillow pals in the bottom of my cart. I wasn’t committing to purchasing the cushion, but I do tend to throw things into the cart while I mull them over. You know, letting the idea of it all marinade in my head while I keep looking.

Did I just admit to the entire blog reading world that I picked a chair out of the neighbors trash heap??? I guess I did. And if this chair turns out half as cute as I have it pictured in my mind’s eye, you’ll be wishing your neighbors would throw out a totally cute chair too.

So I look up and the store is still just jam packed with people. What on earth has this place so busy today? Must be the good weather, people just wanted to be out and about. So I turn my cart to avoid the mass of people in the clothing aisles and wind up in the curtains and bedding aisle. I usually can make it through this area without stopping as I head toward the checkout counter. Today however, something here caught my eye too.

How is it that this fabric I see sticking out from the rack completely coordinates with the seat cushion I just tossed in the cart to think about? It had such a pretty vintage look to it. I pulled it out of the rack it was stuffed in to get a better look and find out that what I thought was sheets or bedding of some sort was actually two large lined curtain panels. Two large lined heavy linen curtain panels. Two large lined heavy linen curtain panels with a tag that read Laura Ashley, Made in Great Britain!!!

Laura Ashley is one of my favorite designers of all things shabby cottage style, the exact look I am going for in my studio. And the price, a mere $4.20 for the pair! Does it surprise you to know that I have two windows in my studio? Didn’t think so. They measure about a foot wider than my windows, so I will be cutting them down the center and making two sets of curtains out of them. They are gorgeous and soft and just the vintage look that my room needed. Grin!

I continued looking through all of the items in the aisle and discovered that along with the sheets and curtains, they had several fabric remnants. I found two pieces that were really nice that I immediately tossed in the cart as well.

A two yard piece of heavy decorator fabric with roses and flourishes in the design.

The other was a huge 6 yard piece of a woven cotton checked pale yellow, green and white. Both pieces were marked $1.80 each. Check out all that fabric!

I then found what I think is a table runner in a blue checkered pattern. I don’t really need a table runner, but thought it might be nice to make a few pillows out of the fabric. For a mere $1.20 I couldn’t go wrong!

Okay, I am suddenly seeing that the theme of the day is most decidedly turning into shabby cottage studio day. I start making my way toward the checkout when again, something catches my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, on the top of the shelf where they have stacked just oodles of bunnies, baskets, eggs and other various Easter enticements, I see them.

Leaned up against a weird looking cross eyed bunny creature, I see this package of “Instant Stencils”. Now, I have never used anything like them, had no clue what they even were, but found myself reaching up to grab them for a closer look, just based on the colors and design alone.

I mean, why wouldn’t I? Look at them!

Now look at the chair cushion again.

and the curtain panels.

Is there any way that these were not destined to come home with me? Didn’t think so. 80 cents. I am thinking there is definitely a chair project in my not so distant future, how about you?

I finally make it to the checkout line. And boy do I mean line. I have never had to stand in such a long line at Value World. Weird. I am standing there, peering into my cart, doing my normal thing, editing. Trying to decide what I really want/need and what is probably just another project wanna-be that I will never end up completing. Thing is, I hadn’t added anything to the cart today that I didn’t really want. So as I am standing there, fumbling through my cart full of goodies, a voice from behind me, which was actually the lady in line ahead of me, says “Do you have a coupon?” Huh?

I turned to look at her and she asked me again, “Do you have a coupon? You know, for the sale?” I must have had a confused look on my face that said I didn’t have said coupon, because she immediately started fumbling through her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper with an online coupon printed on it. She handed it to me and when I looked down at it, I couldn’t believe what I saw!

Oh. My. Goodness! I had no idea that this sale was taking place! That explains the crowd! I had no idea Value World had a website! I also had no idea that there were 13 of them in the state of Michigan alone! I have been shopping at this store for at least 8 years and thought all along that it was a one of a kind thrift store. I got home today to find out on the website that they are in three states: Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio.

I thanked the sweet lady profusely and inside I was jumping for joy. Outside, there would be no jumping today, nothing even remotely close to jumping or jostling of any sort. Uhem.

As I unloaded my treasures onto the checkout counter, the clerk added up my total. What I thought was going to be a rather sizeable purchase turned out to be less than a $20 bill! I had even added a few items from the jewelry counter while standing in line (they get me every time on that one!)

On the drive home, I wished there was something that I could have done for the sweet lady that gave me the coupon to return her kindness, when it dawned on me. Pay it forward. So, for all of you who are lucky enough to be in my state or neighboring states, here’s the link to Value World’s website, where you can download your own coupon, good til the end of March. Print two. One for you, and one for the frazzled lady in line behind you who may or may not have had her bits squashed earlier that day. Enjoy!

Linking up to Southern Hospitality's Today's Thrifty Treasures and Nifty Thrifty Tuesday at Coastal Charm.

Til next time!
Lisa

A Security Guard, A Seashell and a Goodwill in Cincinnati

2010-03-14T19:52:00.001-04:00

I haven't been blogging for a few weeks but I have a good excuse. We took a spur of the moment vacation to Florida!

We had planned to go later in March, but Mountain Man had a business trip come up. He called home from work one day earler this month and said he thought being he already had to drive 4.5 hours south to Cincinnati, did I want to come along and then continue south to Florida? Then he suggested we could drive the new car on her first road trip to visit our parents. Did I? Did I??? I think I started packing before I hung up the phone.

We left early last Wednesday, spent two nights in Cincinnati, and then left Friday for Florida. We drove all night and arrived at my in-laws at 4:30 in the morning. I only until about 9am and then I was just too hyped up to get vacation started, so after only four and a half hours of sleep, I was ready to get things underway. My 19 year old niece, Hannah, was flying into Tampa that afternoon, and I had volunteered to drive my mother in law to the airport to pick her up. Yes, after spending 14+ hours in the car, and sleeping only 4.5 hours, I volunteered to pick her up. You see, I had a hidden agenda.

I wanted to cross the Sunshine Skyway bridge. It's on my bucket list. Do you have a bucket list? If not, I highly encourage all of you to make one. I pretty much live by mine nowadays.

The bridge has a story. In case you haven't heard of it, I copied this from Wikipedia:

The southbound span of the original bridge (built in 1969) was destroyed on May 9, 1980, when the freighter MV Summit Venture collided with a pier (support column) during a storm, sending over 1200 feet of the bridge plummeting into Tampa Bay. The collision caused six automobiles and a Greyhound bus to fall 150 feet, killing 35 people.

One man, Wesley MacIntire, survived the fall when his Ford pickup truck landed on the deck of the Summit Venture before falling into the bay. He sued the company that owned the ship, and settled for $175,000 in 1984. For the remaining nine years of his life until he died in 1989, MacIntire was haunted by the fact that he was the only one to survive the fall from the collapsing bridge.

The collapsed original bridge on May 9, 1980 after the Summit Venture collision.

Photo by St. Petersburg Times.

The pilot of the ship, John Lerro, was cleared of wrongdoing by both a state grand jury and a Coast Guard investigation.

After the Summit Venture disaster, the northbound span carried one lane in either direction until the current bridge opened. Before the old bridge was demolished and hauled away in barges, MacIntire (the sole survivor of the collapse) was the last person permitted to drive over it. He was accompanied by his wife, and when they reached the top of the bridge, they dropped 35 white carnations into the water, one for each person who lost a life in the disaster. The main span of the northbound bridge was demolished in 1993 and the approaches for both old spans were made into the Skyway Fishing Pier State Park. These approaches sit 1/2 mile to the south and west of the current bridge.

I have sailed under the bridge before on a cruise ship, as it is the gateway from Tampa Bay out into the ocean on the gulf side, but I had never crossed the bridge before.

Ever since my illness, things that have a story like this bridge does, intrigue me. I don't have any explanation as to why I have to do them, but I simply call them God Moments. I know that if I listen to my heart when it tells me this is something you need to do, that I will be blessed in some way, it never fails.

So with that in mind, I took off to the airport with my mother in law to pick up Hannah, and had told her that on the way home I wanted to make a large loop over the causeway to St. Petersburg and south to the Sunshine Skyway bridge. She never hesitated once after I told her of my plan, and we were off to the airport.

We picked up Hannah, told her the plan on the way and she was giddy about it! So the three of us took off on a mini adventure, with me looking for my next God Moment. I wasn't disappointed.

Before I left for Florida, I had made a list of things I wanted to do/see/find while I was there. My mother in law knows that I am an avid junker and had planned several days of thrift store and flea market shopping in our agenda, so I figured I needed to bring my list. I had on my list to find a big spiraled Lightning Whelk seashell or a Conch shell, a Starfish, and a Sand Dollar. I wanted to do a display with them on my bookshelves and I was hoping to go beach combing and find these items.

We were planning to go to Sanibel Island with my parents while down there, but when we looked at a map, we found out it was 3.5 hours each way and we just didn't want to spend our time with my parents staring at the back of our heads for 7 hours. So, before we even left home, we opted not to go to Sanibel Island. I figured that the seashell hunt would have to happen on another trip when we had more time. But, even though the odds of going someplace where I would find those items were slim, I still had them on my list.

A few days earlier, while in Cincinnati, I went to a thrift store while Mountain Man was at the plant taking care of business. Low and behold, there sitting on the shelf of the thrift store I stumbled across this beauty:

Yup! A perfectly beautiful specimen of a starfish that I could never have dreamed I would find on a beach in Florida, let alone sitting on a shelf in a thrift store in Cincinnati, Ohio! This beauty was wrapped in bubble wrap and a plastic bag like it knew it was headed on a trip somewhere (to Michigan by way of Florida, maybe?) and for only four bucks! Mine!

Now, to show you just how grand a specimen it is, here is another photo, with a nickel sitting by it for comparison:

So, fast forward back to the bridge. We were coming in from the St. Petersburg side, from the north. We had stopped to get some food cause my niece hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was going on 4 o'clock. Well, when you eat, you get drinks, and when you drink you eventually will have to use a rest area. We stopped at the toll booth, paid our toll, and were on the approach to the bridge when we spotted the rest area. Hallelujah!

We went in, did our business, and on the way out a security guard approached me. At first I was worried that I had done something wrong. Turns out, he wanted to talk to me about my car! He was an avid fan of the Dodge Charger and came over to tell me that he liked my car. You wouldn't believe how many times this has happened to me since the purchase of the Charger. That is another story in and of itself.

He then commenced to showing me pictures on his cell phone of his 1966 Dodge Charger that he had restored. In the midst of our conversation about cars, motors, 20" tires, and such (when did I become a car officinado???) I happened to ask him where the best place to take photos of the bridge might be. He directed us to a road that ran along side of the bridge at ground level and led to a lookout point.

After a quick wave out the sunroof to the nice security guard car guy, off we went under the highway, turned left as per his instructions, and sure enough, about a block back from the direction we had just came from, was a point that jutted out into the water.

As we approached the point I couldn't believe my eyes! People were out on the point in their cars, taking pictures, fishing, having picnics, etc. My heart skipped a beat as we approached the driveway. I was going to get to drive my car on the beach!

That was never part of my plan, but I recognized it right away as a God Moment! We all got out, took pictures of the bridge, walked in the sand, basked in the sunlight, let the ocean breeze blow through our hair, and oh, did I mention? I already had my flip flops on!

I quickly took a picture of my Jemma sitting there in all her glory, beautiful "muscle car" that she is, sitting on the sandy point. Mountain Man would have never believed it unless I had photographic proof, even if I did have his mother riding shotgun. We felt like a couple of teenagers right then and there. Well, technically, Hannah still IS a teenager, but I am sure at that moment, she thought I was the coolest aunt on the planet. Well, it's my blog and I tell it like I see it...

After our all too brief moment on the beach, we piled back into the car and headed on our way. On the way back out to the road, I looked over to my left and saw a cooler sitting on the ground behind an older model pickup truck. On top of the cooler was a collection of seashells! I did a double take. Not just seashells, but the exact kind that was on my list! They were Florida Lightning Whelks!

There sat about a dozen of those beautiful spiral striped ones in various sizes! I had been looking at shells online before we left home and was finding some really pretty large specimen type ones for around $25, not including shipping. I had been hoping to find one in Florida for free, or at least get one from a shop there and not have to pay shipping.

I stopped the car. I didn't even pull into a parking spot, just stopped it right at the cooler. I grabbed my wallet and started counting my cash. I hadn't had a chance to stop at an ATM machine. Who knew I would be on the beach, let alone shopping on the beach? I had exactly $13 on me. Drat! I knew the prices of the shells I had seen online. Maybe I could get a small one. Maybe.

As I stood there looking at the shells, a man came walking out from behind the pickup truck. I was still looking at the shells when he said "Hello." Without looking up, I asked him if the shells were for sale and he said "Yes." I asked him how much they were. He reached down and picked up the most beautiful one on the cooler. The one that had caught my eye from the car. The one that made me stop the car.

It was then that I noticed his hands. They were very rough, dirty, and as he turned the shell over in his hand, I noticed that he was missing part of his thumb. I then looked up to see the kind face of a very time worn man. He told me that he was asking $10 for the large shells, and $5 for the small ones. I couldn't believe my ears. $10? I told him that I liked the one he was holding and he handed it to me, he told me that it was an excellent choice, that it was a true beauty, by far the prettiest one in his cooler top collection. I gave him the $10 and was returning to my car when my niece decided that she wanted to look at them also.

I put the shell in the back seat and turned back around toward them. It was then that I noticed that the beat up truck topper and tailgate was open and filled with what appeared to be this man's earthly possessions. I saw clothes, dishes, a pot and frying pan, a small bundle of firewood, and various other items. He had a small dog in the cab of the truck with him and he was telling my niece that his dog helps him find the shells early in the morning on the beach. I couldn't help but wonder if this truck was his home and that the reason he was on the beach so early was because that is where he and his dog slept. For all appearances sake, this man seemed to be homeless and living in his truck.

My niece picked out one of the smaller shells, gave him $5 and then as we were getting set to leave, he asked me "Do you know how much these shells go for?"

I thought he was asking me if I knew what a deal I was getting, and I said, "Yes, you have a very good price on them." And then he said, "No, ma'am, what I mean is, do you know how much people are selling them for? I don't know, and wondered if you could tell me if I am charging a fair price?" I then told him that from what I saw online that he could charge an additional $5-$10 more for the larger ones and probably still sell them like hotcakes. Then he thanked me. He thanked me. Like I did him some kind favor.

We thanked him again, loaded up in the car, and as I drove away I felt both humbled and blessed at the same time. I only wish I had taken his picture, but I couldn't find the words to ask him that would make sense as to why I wanted to take his picture. I won't be forgetting his face anytime soon though.

We continued back down the road in the direction of the rest area, passed under the highway and onto the southbound ramp, the one that was struck in the accident. We were climbing higher and higher and suddenly we came upon the beautiful sunny yellow cables that make the twin spires of Sunshine Skyway Bridge.

I was there. I was crossing the bridge! I had my niece busy with her camera in the backseat taking photos and I grabbed my cell phone to take a shot of the bridge just as we reached the pinnacle.

It is probably not the best thing in the world to have your eyes fill with tears while trying to drive in traffic across a humongous bridge, but nevertheless, this was the case. I was thinking of the 35 lives that were lost in the accident when the bridge collapsed, I was thinking how blessed I was to be alive on such a gorgeous day, and I was thinking of how happy I was that I was able to cross this item off of my bucket list.

Here's another great shot that Hannah took from the back window. What a beautiful bridge. What a beautiful day!

On our ride back home, while my mother in law and Hannah chatted, my mind was busy thinking of what had happened that day. I couldn't help but wonder why the security guard was a car guy who loved Chargers who would randomly strike up a conversation with me. Or that he would lead us to the beach on the point to take pictures instead of from the pier where most everyone else seemed to be headed. Or that there would be a wayward soul there on the beach, selling the exact kind of shells I was looking for. I didn't need to wonder. I knew. I call them God Moments. They can happen anywhere and everywhere. They never cease to take my breath away. At a rest area, on the beach, and yes, even on the shelves of a Goodwill in Cincinnati, Ohio.

I'm linking up to Nifty Thrifty Tuesdays at Coastal Charm, Today's Thrifty Treasures at Southern Hospitality, and Second Time Around Tuesday at A Picture is Worth a 1000 Words. Check them all out for more great thrift store finds!

Til next time!
Lisa

The Hawk, the Hemi, and a Side of Fries

2010-02-23T12:21:00.000-05:00

Wow, I haven't blogged in quite a while. Didn't realize it until my mother in law brought it up on the phone to me tonite. I didn't know she liked my babbling so much.

This story I am about to share has nothing to do with home decor, nothing to do with thrift store shopping, or any of the other things I have been sharing here with you all. Matter of fact, it is about a rather manly topic. It will, however, give you a little more insight into who I am, so I hope that you will enjoy reading it just the same.

As the one year anniversary of my illness is quickly approaching, I find myself reflecting on a lot of memories and seeing different ways that God has brought me through the past year. It amazes me to be able to look back on things and see how far I have come, and this is just another awesome example of His healing ways and how He chooses to show up in our lives. It is a long post, but I really didn't see any way that I could edit it and not leave out a crucial detail, so forgive me in advance. You might want to grab a favorite beverage and get comfy...

Last February, I suffered knee injury while on vacation. A month later, as a result of the injury, I suffered a pulmonary embolism (a blood clot) that traveled into both of my lungs. On March 31st, I had open heart surgery to remove them. My heart stopped while on the operating table and my cardiac surgeon kept it beating with his hands while the surgical team rushed to get me hooked up to the bypass equipment. The next morning, just hours after having surgery, on April 1st I had another cardiac arrest and was revived once again by two nurses in the SICU ward. I spent 21 days on a respirator in a sedated drug induced coma, during which I battled everything from suspected kidney failure and heart damage to pnemonia and bladder infections. To say that I was battling many circumstances at the same time is a huge understatement.

After 30 days, I was released from the hospital. I was cleared to drive only six weeks after my open heart surgery, but I didn't get behind the wheel of a car for over six months. I just wasn't strong enough. I struggled to even get into our vehicle. It is a 4WD Dodge Durango and it sits up nice and high.

For the first month after coming home, the whole process of getting out of the house to a vehicle began with a walker. I needed it to stand up, I needed it to walk, I needed it to get up and down stairs, and I needed it to get to the car.

At the car door, I had to have someone stand behind me to steady me. I would then push up off the walker and have help getting up on a little Rubbermaid step stool that my husband bought specifically for this task. I used it to get up onto the running board, where I could position myself for the next step, turning myself so I could sit sideways into the seat. Then I rested before lifting my legs and feet around and facing forward, finally ending up correctly in the seat. It was a four step process.

My assistant of the moment would then buckle me in, shut the door, grab the step stool, fold up the walker, load it and the step stool into the back of the SUV, and then finally get themselves into the vehicle. For a month, it was a long drawn out procedure of about twenty minutes. It was awful. It made me feel so helpless. If getting in exhausted me, driving was out of the question. Something that people so easily take for granted was such an ordeal for me. It drained me both physically and emotionally, just to get in the car.

Those that know me well, know that I am a die hard Nascar fan. I love to watch the races on tv and we live about a half hour from Michigan International Speedway where they host Nascar races twice each summer in June and August. We have been to many races there, have purchased pit passes just to catch a glimpse of Nascar royalty, bought the bling for our favorite drivers, and have had many a tailgate party too. Oh, and another thing, I LOVE to drive.

So, for me to have lost the physical ability to drive for several months, made it an emotional thing too. I am a very independent person normally. It was very humbling to have to NEED someone's help in many different circumstances during my recovery, but the driving issue was especially tough. When it was at it's worst, I felt like I was constantly interrupting someone's schedule with doctor visits, lab work, cardiac tests, diabetes classes, trips to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions, etc.

I cannot even begin to count the number of times that I would hear conversations between my kids, my parents and my husband, trying to figure out who could take me to whatever thing was coming up that week. They were all more than willing to do it, juggling whatever was necessary for me. But just having to hear it, so many, many, many times, began to wear on me.

As time went by, about mid August I was having an easier time of getting into our vehicle. It was then that I was finally able to not need the step stool to get up on the running board. Such a small thing, but such a huge milestone. My husband kept it in the back end of the vehicle, just in case I had a set back, which I did a time or two on bad days, but for the most part, it was out of sight, out of mind. I remember the day I saw him carry it in the house from the vehicle and thinking that it was another small victory on my part.

In late August, I told him that I thought I was ready to attempt to drive again. He wasn't really sure about it, because to get in the car on the driver's side required me to push off on my bad knee. But, being the stubborn person I am, I persisted, and finally convinced him to let me try. Off we went to the Durango to see how I would do. He brought the stool just in case.

After standing there for a good fifteen minutes discussing what the best way to go about this would be, we finally came up with a plan. Then I needed another five minutes after that to convince myself that I really could do this. I was scared, crying, nervous and almost defeated by the thought of re-injuring my knee, but I was also determined to try.

So after I mustered up the courage, I forgot the steps of the carefully devised plan all together and suddenly found myself sitting behind the wheel, not quite sure what I did or how I got there. All I know is that I was there, my knee didn’t hurt and I was elated! Today, I cannot even tell you where we went for my "first drive" but I will never forget the sense of accomplishment I had while taking it. I also remember that we got home and he called his mom to celebrate reaching our latest milestone. That was something he did and continues to do, all through my recovery. I guess it feels good for him to be able to tell her about my "baby steps".

Four weeks later, in early September, we were headed to Las Vegas for my birthday and my in-law’s 50th Anniversary. While we were there, we rented a vehicle to drive and toured Zion National Park and drove to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I did a lot of the driving, and I couldn’t have been happier to. I was pushing myself a bit too hard though, because as the trip came to a close, I suffered a setback with my knee and I ended needing a wheelchair to get through the airport for our flight home. All that getting in and out of the car to see the sights took a big toll on my knee. I took it easy for a few days after we got home, and it seemed to be healed after only a week or so. But I was back! I was driving again!

I don't remember exactly when it was, but a few weeks after our trip, early October some time, I hit another milestone. My husband had just arrived home from work one day and I told him that I had called in a prescription that needed picked up from the pharmacy. They closed in less than an hour and we were also out of milk. He was really tired, had school work to do, and was less than thrilled about getting back in the car after just walking in the door. So, I told him not to worry, to just stay put and I would go get it. It is just two minutes from our house, a quick trip. He looked at me without saying a word, but I could read his mind and it was screaming "By yourself????"

I grabbed my purse, cell phone and keys, and off I went to the pharmacy. I had only been gone about ten minutes when my phone rang. He wanted to know where I was. I told him, finished the call and stepped up to the counter to find it hadn't been filled yet, so I had to wait. About ten minutes later, I was on my way to get the milk, just one minute further up the road.

Well, you know how you go for milk and $20 later you leave the store? I headed for home and had been gone approximately 30 minutes total. I walked in the door to a slightly irritated man who asked me right away what had taken me so long!

And so it has gone, on and off for about the past 3.5 months. I leave the house to go run an errand, to go thrift store shopping, etc. and he keeps tabs on me and watches me like a hawk. Usually, he volunteers to take me wherever it is I want to go. Partially out of habit, but mostly cause we just enjoy doing stuff together. But sometimes, it is just me, and after all I have been through, it feels so liberating to do it all by myself.

We have been a one car family for almost three years. My kids live in the same town, just minutes away, so we've always done errands for each other or together. It just worked for us.

Lately, however, with work schedules and some conflicts of personal schedules, we have run into a few snags here and there. I mentioned to my hubby a couple of months ago that I think that I might want a car again. After he finished his anxiety attack, we looked at our budget, we talked about other things we had going on, house renovations, the upcoming holidays, and concluded that the timing just wasn't right to add a car payment. He also didn't want to buy a used one for fear I would have car trouble and get stranded somewhere. So, we continued to make due with scheduling and it usually worked itself out. But sometimes it didn't.

In early January I looked into taking a jewelry and metal-smith class. Something to get me out of the house. Cabin fever can make you stir crazy. It was offered as an evening class that would work for us, allowing him time to get home from work and me to go to the class. I even thought that if he wanted, he could drive me there, then go to a coffee shop with wi-fi and do his homework while waiting for me to finish with my jewelry class. Perfect!

Well, I waited too long to register for the class and it filled. The only other day it was offered was during the week in mid afternoon, while he would be at work, ending in the early evening after he would need to be picked up. Not gonna happen. Dang! If only we had a second vehicle.

Every once in a while the subject would come up again and he'd ask what kind of car I wanted. Usually I would be thinking along the lines of another SUV so that I could load my treasures from thrift stores into it, an older model car with a large trunk might do also, but he wouldn't be happy with that answer.

Every once in a while I would tell him that what I really wanted was a black Ford Mustang Convertible, to which he would reply that a convertible isn't practical in Michigan in the winter. So I told him that a sunroof would do the job. Just as long as the sun was involved, I didn't care, it was my "dream car". At least I thought it was, til one day I was out with my daughter and we just happened to stop in at a Ford dealer and commenced to drooling all over their ponies. The drooling stopped the moment I laid eyes on the back seat. Or lack thereof. I was shocked to see how very little space there was and thought that it would be more practical to have made it a two seater with a bigger trunk. No longer my dream car.

So much for tooling down the highway in a sexy hot car with my hair blowing in the wind, stereo booming out my favorite song, driving with no specific destination in mind. And for the record, in every day dream I have ever had about this scenario, the car either was a convertible or had a sunroof. However, it also had a functional back seat.

This past Saturday, we had a ton of errands to run and the hubby and I headed out around 11am to do them. We got no further than ten minutes from home, when we turned to toward town to get some lunch. There is an auto dealership on the corner where we turned and as we came around the corner, my hubby says, "Hey, do you want to go in there and just look around at cars for a while?" I was hungry, and being diabetic, I needed to eat. I said that I would rather just go to lunch, but if he wanted to back track, I'd be happy to come back, or if they were still open when we got our errands done we could come home the same way and stop later. Besides, I was pretty sure “buy a car” wasn’t written anywhere on the to do list.

Before I continue, you have to know something about this man. He doesn't "do" backtrack. Just like he doesn't "do" lay-away's. For some reason, he is a now or never kind of guy. I am not saying he does things spur of the moment, or without thinking things through, because in reality, that’s totally me. If anything, he tends to over think stuff, taking forever to make a decision about the most mundane things. The man cannot help but hyper analyze EVERYTHING. It is how his engineer brain works.

You can play that silly game Pictionary with him and even if you can guess the correct answer after only two grains of sand have fallen through the timer, he will still finish the drawing, every time. He doesn't care if you already guessed it, he is going to finish it and see it through to completion, adding the tiniest of tiny details in the process. Fun game. I used to like it.

So even if I did kind of want to look at cars, my hunger, and/or determination to relieve it, and the 26 year old unwritten rule of “no backtracking” won the decision. I didn't give it another thought. I did glance over and see a stunning white sports car sitting at the driveway entrance as we blew by the dealership and headed for lunch, and immediately my thought was that white would be an awful color for a car, showing all the dirt, constantly screaming “wash me“ every time you looked at it. And hadn’t that dream sports car of mine always been a black Mustang? Doesn’t matter, he doesn't backtrack. On with the day.

We drove on, we drove thru, we got our lunch and we were waiting for traffic before pulling back out onto the road. I casually asked if he still wanted to go look at cars while popping a wayward French fry from the bottom of the bag in my mouth, knowing full well what his response would be. We were in the left turn lane, the direction of our errands, waiting for a couple of cars ahead of us to go. I wasn’t paying attention as I started to dig in the bag for our fries, and we were inching ahead, waiting for our turn. While we sat waiting, it suddenly dawned on me that when I was distracted, he had gotten over into the right turn lane. It was right then and there that I realized this was no ordinary day and I was on suddenly on full alert. Whoa, Nelly, he was BACKTRACKING!

As we drove back to the dealership, he asked me what I wanted to look at. He caught me totally off guard. I was hungry and not thinking straight. I didn’t think we were looking at cars today, or anytime in the near future. I certainly never thought in a million years we’d backtrack to do so. So I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. I had looked at some cross over vehicles (half car, half SUV) on their website a few weeks earlier and saw two different models that had some great features that I thought we might like to look at. They might have some on their used car lot too.

As we turned into the dealership from the opposite direction we had just came from, we pulled in the driveway and again I looked over at all the fancy sports cars sitting pretty in a row in the new car lot. And there it was again, that white car, closer this time, and as I looked, I heard a small gasp. Did I just gasp at a car? I can be such a dork.

The driveway pulls in right in the middle of the two lots, the new car lot and the used car lot. As we pulled in, there was a rather large group of people standing around a woman who had a huge hawk on her arm. I gasped again, at the sheer beauty of the bird. We started to head in the direction of the used car lot. I was mesmerized by this bird and trying to figure out why on earth a lady with a hawk on her arm was standing in the middle of a crowd at a car dealership, when suddenly the man stops our car right in the middle of a row of the cross-overs. He parked right in the aisle. Again, something he would normally never do. What is up with this guy? Normally, he and his engineer brain would park in a parking spot, precisely in the middle, so as not to park too close to the left or the right hand lines, but exactly in the middle. But apparently today was not his day to be normal.

We climbed out of our vehicle, which by the way, was totally covered in dirt and road salt that only a Michigan winter can produce. There it sat looking rather disgusting in comparison to all these shining specimens. No matter, we were not buying anything, nor were we trading in our only vehicle, so there it sat in all it’s yuckiness. And for the record, it is Platinum Silver, a very beautiful color, on a sunny summer day, after being freshly washed. But I had to laugh as I looked at it, after having such horrible thoughts about white. I guess any color, once covered with dirt and road salt can look pretty disgusting.

We hadn’t had time to finish our lunch, so he had climbed out with his French fries in hand, and was happily munching away as he started to walk around the shiny vehicles. This, from a man who will take a phone call and let his food get ice cold, rather than try to eat a bite here and there while having a conversation. Now he is walking around peeking in windows and eating fries, when Peter, the salesman, approaches him with his hand extended for a handshake. My husband wipes his salty, greasy fingers on his pants and shakes Peter’s hand while holding a fry box in the other. I am standing there watching this all take place, scratching my tilted head in wonder, trying to figure out who this imposter really is and what he has done with my husband. I was also wishing I had grabbed my fries before we locked them in the dirty vehicle.

Peter, the very polished and knowledgeable salesman, starts with the usual questions. What are you folks looking for today? Would you like to test drive something? Got a trade in? That one almost made me laugh out loud.

I told him that I had seen the cross overs online and we might like to look at one of them. A White Gold Pearl colored one had caught my eye and we headed toward it to take a look. It was very pretty, he told us about all the features then asked if we wanted to drive it. I looked at the man with the fries. He looked at me and hunched his shoulders and with a tilt of his head, said “Why not?” Then he dropped one of his fries.

As Peter left to get the keys and a dealer plate, he says over his shoulder, “Careful with those fries, that hawk might peck your eyes out to get at them.” That kinda scared me, because as I said before, this was no ordinary day and anything could happen. I started looking in the direction of the hawk.

We commenced to opening all the doors, lifting the hood, kickin’ the tires and eventually found ourselves buckled in and heading for the open road with Peter driving and telling us all the wonderful features of this amazing vehicle. He showed us the cool media package with satellite radio, a rear backup camera that shows you what/who you are about to back over/into, DVD player, and a stereo system that uploads 6900 songs so you don’t have to keep a pile of CD’s in your car.

He showed us a drink cooler over the glove box that circulated cool air so that you could keep cans of pop cold while going down the road. He showed us built in storage under the feet in the second row of seats that doubled as a cooler for the rest of the 12 pack of pop. He was good.

It rode like a dream. Huge cargo space in the back end, seats up to seven people. Traction control (which he demonstrated by locking up the brakes and scaring the bleep out of me even though he warned me ahead of time!). It was a really, REALLY nice vehicle. With one exception. It had two toned cloth seats, with a really light colored beige fabric. We have a golden retriever that loves her car rides. She also loves running through mud. Nuff said.

So, French fry guy takes over driving at some point. Peter had gotten into the back seat, I moved to the front passenger seat and we are headed back in the direction of the dealership. Well, this was fun. On with our errands now. Nice vehicle. We will add it to the list of possibles. No really, we are just looking.

Just as we are nearing the dealership, my husband then looks over at me and asks if I wanted to drive it, as we again blow past the driveway, now going in the opposite direction, passing the pretty white car once again. A few miles up the road in the other direction, he pulls over and we do our own personal Chinese fire drill while Peter waits in the back seat of the car. Now I am driving. No purse, no wallet, no driver’s license on hand. Um, okay…

It took me a minute to figure out how to move the seat, the mirrors, and the steering wheel, but once everything was readjusted from 6’1” guy settings to five foot nuttin’ girl settings, we were off again. It took two minutes to get back to the dealership. I pulled in, put the car in reverse and marveled at the rear backup camera as I parked it exactly between the two other shiny sister cars on either side of us. Dang, I’m good.

So as we are gathering our stuff and getting out of the vehicle, Peter starts to tell us all about a special deal on financing and all about the rebates they currently have going on. I stop him mid sentence and say that before we talk all that, I wanted to tell him that that wasn’t the vehicle for us. I just couldn’t do the cloth, beige seats, no matter how cold it kept my Diet Squirt.

Our Durango has leather seats, and the dog messes them up, and sheds all over them, but a damp cloth does wonders to clean them up with ease. Unless they had something there with leather seats, it was a no go. Oh, and also, did they have any models that had a sunroof option???

Enter Mr. Black Gold Pearl. Peter heads in to get the keys. This one had the leather package, no sunroof. While we are waiting, hubby asks me if I liked the cross over and all it’s features. I could really see us in that vehicle. Trips to our cabin, dog in back seat, going out with our adult kids with room for everyone in one vehicle, thrift store finds loaded in the back end, the works.

Peter comes back out, hands me the key to the black one and says to take it for a spin and see what we think. I told him that two minutes behind the wheel wasn’t enough to get a feel for it, that it was kinda like driving a rental car, awkward and unknown at best. He said to go as far as we needed to make a good decision. Suddenly I am thinking warm, southern locations. I am thinking Florida, here we come!

My hubby grabbed our sandwiches out of the grubby mobile, which were stone cold. I am beginning to think he likes his food cold. We headed back out, once again, this time I drove the entire way. Along the way, I start getting this weird feeling. I wasn’t falling in love with this vehicle. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, because everything Peter had showed us about it sounded good. It should have been a good fit. But the more I drove it, the more I was convinced that it wasn’t the one. Those who know me, know that I don’t over think anything. Actually I tend to go with my gut and fly by the seat of my pants. My gut was saying nope.

So, as I am driving along, I start thinking to myself that I am going to blow this golden opportunity and have to tell my hubby that I just didn't like this car. We will head back to the dealership, get back in the grubby mobile and be on with our day. Car shopping will be over, and dang, he even backtracked!

We pulled back onto the lot about thirty minutes later. I gathered our burger wrappers, the bag, drinks, etc. and I started to head for the Durango. I turned to say something to him, and discovered that Mr. Not-Quite-Himself-Today was suddenly nowhere to be seen. He had wandered off, yet again, this time in the direction of some cars. I rolled my eyes and out of sheer curiosity of what lie ahead of me, walked in his direction.

I found him looking at some smaller cars that looked kinda like a tuna fish can on wheels after what we had just driven. Not interested. He pointed out a fun memory of renting a PT Cruiser a couple of years ago while on a business trip in Vegas. Nope, not for me. Then Peter catches up to us and asks what we thought of Mr. Black Gold Pearl. I had to break it to him that I just wasn't feeling it. We started to walk along the rows of cars as I told him about my hesitations and that again, we were really just looking, not buying. We were walking and talking when we reached the end of the row and stopped right behind the pretty white car at the entrance to the driveway. This time I had to know. What the heck is this car?

Turns out, she was a 2010 Stone White Dodge Charger SXT. What the heck is an SXT? Heck if I knew. All I knew was that it was a beauty and I was drawn to her. Peter then says that this is what he drives. I started walking away from Peter to look inside and take a look at the ever dreadful price sticker, when I looked back at him for some unknown reason, and saw him shoot my husband a curious look. It was the look between men that asks if this silly woman knows what she is looking at. Nope.

I stood there looking at the price tag and wanted to throw up my french fries and cold burger. There is no way that this was ever going to be on the list of possibles.

I couldn't hear exactly what was being said between my two male counterparts in this ongoing masqerade that looked a lot like car shopping, but they were doing a lot of what sounded like grunting and groaning. The kind of talk that men do in garages. Think Tim Allen when he was working on his car in the garage on the show "Home Improvement". Get the picture?

Enter Peter, the salesman. He reaches the driver side door and opened it up, commenting that it was odd that it had been left unlocked. I wasn't surprised. This was the car that made me audibly gasp. I expected it to glow with heavenly light when the door opened. I peeked inside. Hmmm. Grey interior, cloth seats, no sun roof. Peter: Wanna drive it?

I shoot a look at my hubby that was really my attempt to see if we were truly leaving this time or if we were going out for yet another pretend-we-want-it test drive and he is nodding his head up and down like a bobble head doll. So once again, Peter leaves to go get the keys and to retrieve the dealer plate from our last rejected test drive. I am standing there still wondering what is an SXT? I was also wondering, what time is it now anyway? It was close to 2pm. We had been "just looking" at cars now for almost two and a half hours.

Okay, I know the routine. Adjust the seats, adjust the mirrors, buckle in, see ya, Pete. Yeah, by now he is our buddy, Pete.

I drove the whole way again. This time, not really paying attention to the car itself, but more formulating a line of questioning that I was going to aim at my husband while I had him confined to this car and his undivided attention. Things like "What are you up to... and What are we still doing here... and I wanna go because this is just cruel to tease me with all these beautiful cars that we just can't buy right now." But, before I could ask my first question, he asked me what I thought of the car. Drat. How can I concentrate on my line of questioning when you are asking me that. I was getting set to let him have a piece of my mind when instead I heard myself say "Oh my gosh, this drives like a dream." Whaaaattt???

I had headed out toward one of my favorite stretches of road in the area when we left this time. I love it because it is curvy and winds through the prettiest scenic countryside called Irish Hills. I went around one of the curves and again found myself blurting out nonsense. "This corners like it is on rails!" a stolen line, right out of the movie Pretty Woman. I think I have watched that movie too many times.

We headed back to the dealership after about fifteen minutes and the entire way, I excitedly chatted about how fun it would be to have a car like this. How we could just go out and go for a Sunday drive. It would be so cool. Someday.

We got back to the lot, and I park the car like I work there. We get out and this time it is me that starts heading to look at the other Chargers. Now the hubby is scratching his head and wondering what he has started. Pete comes walking out and meets us. I stopped behind a really fine looking black version of the Charger, when something catches my eye. If that one was an SXT, then what is an R/T? Again, more grunting and groaning from the two of them and Peter says it is the one he wished he had bought. Why's that Pete? "The seats in this one hug you. It isn't a driver's seat, it is a cockpit." One look inside confirmed everything that Pete was saying. Oh. My. Goodness.

This interior was black leather and looked like Tony Stewart himself had just gotten out of it into victory lane. Then Pete added that the R/T has a Hemi 5.7 liter V-8 engine. Sure enough, it did. It said so right there on the side in bright red letters. I know just enough about cars to know that a Hemi is a large engine that car guys love. I don't know, however, what the 5.7 liter thing is all about. I am going to have to research that one. I looked at my hubby and I swear I saw his eyes water and his bottom lip quivered just a bit. "Wanna drive one?" Mr. Bobble-head was back.

This time, he drove. Did he ever. I smiled at the look on his face every time he accelerated. He was sweet talking about this car like there had never been one ever before it. He drove and he drove. He drove some more. Saying sweet nothings about how throaty it sounded. Is throaty a real word? He joked that this car is the kind that you buy during a mid life crisis.

Then he said something very profound. He said that he felt that we had already survived a midlife crisis with my illness and all that we overcame in the past year. He said that he thought that having my own car was a good idea and that it would be yet another step in my recovery process, to regain some of my independence and to help him to let go of his fear of being too over-protective of me. Then he said that today, he was going to buy me a car and he said he wanted me to pick whichever one I wanted. Then he simply turned around and started back. I felt my eyes glaze over as I stared at the road ahead.

The driveway was starting to feel all too familiar. We pulled in, parked the car and I stood there trying to comprehend all that had taken place in the past few hours. It was now going on 4pm. I glanced over and looked at the gorgeous white model that had started all of this in the first place. Remember when I said she made me gasp?

We were standing there at the back of the car we had just driven, talking to Pete. No, wait. We had just driven a Hemi, he is now simply the P-Man. High fives all around. I asked him, just out of a curiosity that wouldn't die, "Do any of the Chargers you have here on the lot have the leather package, as well as a sunroof?" With that, P-Man looks at French fry guy and says that they didn't but that given the choice, the leather seat package was a far better option than cloth seats and a sunroof, and that we might just want to let that idea of the sunroof go for the better seats and comfort. My hubby then says to P-Man "Today I am buying my wife a car, but she has the final say on what she wants. I think she really wants a sunroof."

As he said this, from somewhere behind me I hear a purring of sorts. I turn around to see another Stone White Charger pulling toward us. As it got closer, I saw that it too was an R/T. I could hear the Hemi, and yes, throaty is a word. The only word to describe what I now could hear. The kid behind the wheel edged it closer and closer to me, as if taunting me, and as I stood there like a deer in the headlights, I gasped. Twice. No, I'm not kidding.

P-Man goes up to talk to the kid, who we find out is the car detailer. He had just finished detailing this one because it was going on the showroom floor. As P-Man opened the door to tell the kid something, I noticed the black leather seat package. I could see it really well from where I stood, because the whole interior of the car seemed to be... glowing... as if it were being lit from up above... like the glow of the sun... shining in from a... sunroof?

P-Man sends the kid on his way and I watch as the car pulls away. Dual exhaust tailpipes, singing their throaty song. Beautiful curved spoiler on the trunk. I don't think I can even bear to hear the answer to the question that just rolled off my tongue. "How much is that one?"

"That one" P-Man begins, "is the top of the line. It has all the bells and whistles, including the navigation system." Uh huh. How much? "Your wife has expensive taste" he says to my hubby as he avoids the question. I then said a quote that I have always wanted to use in such a situation. "Champagne taste on a beer budget!" To this P-Man laughed and suggested that we head inside to run some numbers. By the time we got inside, went to the vending machine to get a drink and got seated in P-Man's cubicle, the detailer kid had parked the Charger on the showroom floor. About five feet was all that seperated me from it and the chair I was offered to sit in.

P-Man takes down our information and disappears to "run the numbers" while I keep glancing over at the fine specimen only five feet away from me, trying to act non-chalant, yet straining to see the price sticker. Finally I can't stand it any longer and I get up and go over to her. I walked slowly around her, dragging one finger softly along the front quarter panel as if I expected some kind of a response, like I get from my dog when I rub her tummy.

I hadn't noticed, but my hubby had gotten up and followed me over to take a closer look too. We both met back on the other side where the price sticker was in the back window. Yikes.

About this time P-Man comes back and we head back to our chairs to find out what we had been approved for. He says that we could pretty much choose anything they had on the lot, with maybe the exception of the lime green Viper that sat just across the showroom floor. It was sold already anyway. At this time, we had been hemming and hawing about colors, engine sizes, interior packages, and fifteen gazillion other choices when my hubby says "What do you really want?" and in a moment of sheer lack of self control I said "That!" and pointed to the Charger with all the bells and whistles.

He looks at P-Man and says, "Run us some numbers on that, and let me know what the payment will be." I am suddenly flabberghasted and have no words. P-Man again disappears and we are sitting there in the cubicle as I start imagining the possibles. We discussed what we thought the payment would be, what we needed it to be, and what we wished it could be. While we sat there, the owner stopped by and introduced himself to us. Very nice man. My hubby then proceeds to tell him that we were very impressed with their service department on the three occasions that we had to have work done on our vehicles. That was what brought him here today to purchase a vehicle.

Meanwhile, every man that walked in through the front door immediately was drawn to her. They would walk up and stare at the engine, marvel at the trunk space, and ultimately declare "That's not a driver's seat, it's a cockpit!" Do they pull the boys aside in school and teach them this stuff???

A man with three boys came in and all of them opened doors and piled into the seats of the Charger, opening and closing glove boxes and consoles like they were the latest greatest gadget that they had ever seen. Power seats were humming forward only to buzz backward again. Seats were tilting up and down. Buttons were being pushed. Then they got out and opened the trunk, looking like they were getting set to climb in. Just as I was fixin' to scream "Get away from MY car!" the dad announced it was time to go. Thank goodness! That would have been embarassing... for my hubby.

P-Man came back with the numbers. The payment was in front of us. It didn't look good. It was higher than what we thought it would be. It was way higher than what we wished it would be. And it was slightly higher than what we needed it to be. I sat back in my seat and was getting set to brace for disappointment like I had when P-Man locked up the brakes on our first test drive, when I heard my hubby say "Okay. Let's do this." Somebody pinch me. I just realized that this entire day could be a really detailed drawn out dream sequence.

(yes, that speedometer really says 160 mph. Grin! )

P-Man disappears for the third time and I am looking at my hubby and just shaking my head back and forth. He has this grin on his face like a kid in a candy store. P-Man comes back and says with a heavy sigh, "Sorry folks, we needed to get an approval for part of the paper work and they closed at 5pm. All I am getting is their automated system, so we will have to finalize everything on Monday." No, this isn't a dream, it is now a nightmare! Monday? Monday? That means that we have time to go home and talk ourselves completely out of this crazy idea. Poop. Yes, that was the exact word I said to P-Man.

We headed back out to the lot. Climbed up into the dirty Durango and drove home, seven miles, having not completed even one of our errands on the to do list. It was now 5:30, the day was spent. We walked into the house, I took off my coat and like a robot on auto pilot, and started doing the dishes and staring out the kitchen window. It was getting dark and so was my mood.

I stood there quiet for several minutes when a whole new flood of emotions hit me. How could I justify that car? Was I really healthy enough to think that I can go out and about on my own? Would I just wait for him to get home from work to take me anyway? Was he ready to have me going out and about on my own again? He is awfully overprotective yet. As I was getting set to go find him and hash all this over, he comes walking into the kitchen with the phone to his ear. "Yeah, we can be there in ten minutes. Let me ask her."

It was P-Man on the other end, wanting to know if we wanted to come get the car and drive it for the weekend. Seems the owner had asked him after we left without it if something had gone wrong. When he told him the issue, the owner said he would personally call on Monday and get the issue taken care of and to get ahold of us right away and let us take the car. Oookaaay...

So the next thing you know, we are in the Durango once again, headed to the dealership with my daughter and son in law, who had arrived just moments earlier at our home. We are explaining to them where we have been all day and how we didn't get anything done. We get there and P-Man had the car brought back out from the showroom floor, sitting at the front door. It was idling and warming up for us, right next to his SXT. He was getting ready to head home. He and my hubby go in to his cubicle and I stood there telling my daughter the story of our day. I suddenly noticed there were a small group of men gathered between the two cars, gawking. Doing the man grunt thing they do. I wanted so badly to say "Listen to that Hemi purr. Throaty huh?" Perhaps in time I would get the courage to. I couldn't help but wonder if this would now become an everyday thing?

Next thing you know, they come back out and P-Man says "Congratulations and enjoy your car!" I start to say that technically it isn't mine yet, when my hubby says "I just signed the title." And again, I gasped. P-Man sticks out his hand to shake mine and I grabbed him around the neck and hugged him instead. He laughed as he hugged me back.

I drove it home on cloud nine. My daughter in the passenger seat, kept telling me how much she wanted to drive it. My son in law in the back seat said he wanted to drive it. My hubby was driving the Durango ahead of me and was on his cell phone. He later tells me he was talking to a buddy from work who is a car guy and he probably said he wanted to drive it!

As I pulled it into our driveway, I was overwhelmed with emotion again. I looked out the front window and I saw our steps. Oh, those steps. I suddenly could see the paramedics that transported me down them and into an ambulance just ten short months ago. Then I remembered how nearly impossible four steps were to climb and how the physical therapist told me that my release from the hospital would be only on the condition that I could indeed climb them. I squeezed the steering wheel and recalled the death grip I used to have on his shoulders as my husband would go ahead of me while I fearfully tried to go down those steps with everything I had in me.

I sat there all alone in my car for a good couple minutes trying to come to grips with what had just transpired. I shut my eyes and tipped my head back against the seat to clear my thoughts. When I opened them again, I was looking up at the most lovely sight.

In my rush of emotions and excitement, I had completely forgotten about it! My sunroof! I slid back the inside panel and what little light that was left in the sky at the end of a Michigan winter day suddenly poured inside and lit up the inside of the car. It was a reminder of God's promise of the brighter days I had ahead of me.

Then and there I ultimately decided that my hubby was right. We had survived our midlife crisis. I will love this car. The freedom and independence it will bring, whether real or contrived all in my head, will be another milestone in my recovery. Just you wait and see!

I'll be the one in the Stone White Charger R/T with the sunroof open and the stereo on. Living life to it's fullest. Try to keep up, she's got a Hemi.

Til next time,
Lisa

P.S. Hubby went back Monday to sign the final paper work and P-Man sent me home this awesome hat! I love it! Thanks, Pete!

How Sweet it is to be Loved By You

2010-02-07T04:24:00.004-05:00

Now that I have that tune stuck in your brain, I won't need to put it on a playlist to play here, right? I thought about it, I really did, but then I recalled how many times I go to a blog and suddenly music comes blaring over my speakers and I either A: spit out my drink all over my computer screen or B: jump so high I almost fall out of my chair. Unexpected music gets me good, probably 90% of the time. Maybe I should turn my speakers down a smidge? So anyway, feel free to hum it as you read here or google the song and play it, your choice.

You might be wondering why you need to hum or google at all. Well, remember a while back when I showed you this upcoming box of Valentine's Day goodness?

I have never decorated for Valentine's Day. I really don't know anyone who does, either. I am almost embarassed to admit that in years past, we have all but ignored it's existance. This year, however, I am feeling the love and I wanted to reflect a touch of it to my home. Besides, I wanted to send a little reminder to Mountain Man, that yes, even though I am quirky and can be self absorbed in what ever project is on my plate, I do in fact, love him to pieces. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to have umpteen jars of chocolate in the house. Whatever. Don't judge.

I figured I would decorate in a small, doable way. I limited it to the kitchen. I got busy this past week and decorated all sweet-like for Valentine's Day.

Just in time for Super Bowl Sunday.

Nothing says football like a whole lotta hearts and frou frou, right?

Apparently I am not alone in these thoughts, although they could use some help in making those footballs look heart shaped:

And with that, I bring you The Valentine's Day Sweet Shoppe that suddenly appeared at my home...

It all started with a fun day in blog land when I came across the cutest project idea using thrift and dollar store items to make miniature apothecary jars and candle holders. I have seen these everywhere since before Christmas, and you probably have too, but they are a new project to me. I am just now getting around to making mine, so you have to either put up with reading about them again, or pretend that you have never seen them before and that you think I am very talented and clever. Your choice.

Remember this fancy little lady that I got at Goodwill for a quarter?

And her friends:

Well, I spent some time cleaning out the contents and polishing her up. Then gathered the following items:

I placed a small ring of E-6000 glue to the rim of the candle holder:

Turned the container upside down and placed the candle holder on the container, glue side down. I didn't measure to find the center, I just eyeballed it, cause I'm not that precise, and stuff.

While waiting for the glue to dry, gather together one of each color of M&M's.

Pop them in your mouth.

What??? A girl has to sustain herself while crafting.

Let it dry for a few hours. Maybe overnight to be really set, but again, that is not me.

The glue dries clear, but it does show a little bit, so use a light touch when placing the pieces together. You won't be able to see it when you fill the container with candy though. If you have any left when you are done crafting. If not, use a candle. :)

Using two of my thrift store finds, I was able to make this adorable container for only 50 cents! And I even had M&M's left over at the end to fill her with! I see it as half full.

(I did have issues with that ribbon though, and have since changed it to a much nicer one.)

I was so happy with how that one came out that I went on to make several more.

The filler in these jars came from here.

Put the candle in first, then the sugar and sprinkles will fall around the outside of the candle and you will use less that way.

Then just dress them up with buttons and ribbon.

Or feathers, ooh la la! That one isn't staying in the kitchen... ;)

This one is probably one of my favorites because it is unexpected:

I hit up a few clearance sales and got these huge peppermint sticks for 10 cents a piece. The colors worked for me and who says peppermint sticks are just for Christmas? Candy is candy!

I added a vintage button from my grandma's button tin and a yummy red feather trimmed organdy ribbon and presto chango, what a beauty!

The candle holder base was 25 cents at the thrift store and the top container was a candle holder from the dollar store. Another beautiful creation that cost less than $2 for everything you see here!

I added ribbon to these cute heart shapped suckers (which are really NOT orange, but a watermelon pink, bad pictures!) and stuck them in a votive jar with plain white sugar. Too cute!

Oh, and as a side note, all of the ribbons and buttons were glued on with a hot glue gun, NOT the E-6000. The hot glue can be removed afterward, allowing you to redecorate everything again for the next holiday.

E-6000 glue is permanent!

And here are all my pretties, set up "Candy Shoppe" fashion on top of the hutch. (See? I told you the suckers were not orange!)

Next up was my friend, the overdone wreath. This is her picture the day she came home with me from the thrift store.

I went back to the basics with her and got rid of all that excess frou frou.

Again, I set forth with the glue gun and some of that gorgeous ribbon.

And this is what she looks like all dressed up for Valentine's Day.

(note to self, touch up that irritating screw with some paint.)

I kept her sweet and simple because next month she wants to wear something soft and pastel, to be added to my shabby chic cottage themed guest room. Again, hot glue comes off, making this oh so possible!

I think I saved the best project for last.

Remember me talking about my $12 Goodwill chandelier I rescued from the shelves of doom? I mentioned that I would be sharing her with you all here soon. Well, without further adieu, let me present her "Golden Tassled Goodness" to you.

She came to me as is, a little vintage chippy here and there, but that is what I LOVE about her. And those tassles! They are metal, but they look so much like fringe tassles that people have swatted at them (why do we do that to tassles?) only to find that she kinda swats back, and then swings violently! I secretly love when this happens, just to see the look on their face when they are horrified that they just swatted my chandelier...

I added the red berry wreath for a splash of color in the kitchen. It hides all of her golden tassled goodness though, so I took another photo looking up into the light so you can see the tassles.

There they are! I just LOVE them!

Anyway, so that she didn't feel under-dressed for the upcoming "I Love Football/Valentine's Day" festivities, I decked her out in some bling bling too.

Enter some leftover curling ribbon from Christmas and these adorable heart shapped tree ornaments found on clearance.

I cut the ribbon at varying lengths, some long on purpose so they'd have lots of curl, others short, just because I am. I tied them to the chandelier and just let them dangle there in their loveliness. Ahhhh.

I am so glad I decided to decorate just a smidge for Valentine's Day because have smiled every time I walk into my kitchen for the past few days. It is suddenly a very happy room in my house, and that is saying something!

Now if I could just paint that silly door trim around the closet door. White or black? I can't make up my mind!

Have a happy Valentine's Day and/or Super Bowl party.

I don't like football,

but I never miss the Super Bowl.

I LOVE the commercials.

Now that's a great saying for a shirt.

I'll be linking up to several places this week so be sure to check them out for other great inspirations!

Funky Junk Interiors

Making Lemonade

Between Naps on the Porch

Til next time!

Lisa

A Tale of Two Hunting Trips

2010-02-03T01:53:00.001-05:00

You know how the old saying goes: "If you want to make God laugh, just tell Him what your plans are." Well, I figure He must have been rolling on the floor all week while watching me. You see, I had some mighty big plans.

They say timing is everything. With that in mind, I had the best of intentions to get some serious project time in this week. You see, my Mountain Man works full time as a Plastics Engineering Manager. He also is a full time student persuing his Master's degree in Business Administration, (who is getting straight A's and I might add, I am just a smidge proud of him!). He is a devoted family man, not only to me and our grown children, but to our extended family as well.

Last Monday was the last day of class for him and he had a whole week off of school in which we planned to spend our evenings, getting some projects knocked off of an ever growing list of honey do's.

Monday, I hear his vehicle pull in the driveway, promptly at 5pm. Yay! It's project time!

Now, let me clarify, some of these I can and will do on my own, but each of them also involves him in some way before I can complete it; heavy lifting, hanging shelves, putting together a spice rack, the fact that he is tall, tools he claims will hurt me, etc., etc.

So he had just pulled in the driveway. That is when "IT" happened. (enter the sound of heavy organ music here for dramatic effect...) Mountain Man comes in the door, head hanging low, dragging his computer bag behind him and looking all forelorn. He dropped his bag and coat, made a beeline for the bed, stopping only to grab a box of tissues and the Vicks. Mountain Man had "cawd uh code. "

Okay, not the scenario that I had played out in my head, but I could deal with this. Maybe we will just start tomorrow when he feels better.

Maybe not.

After calling in sick to work, this is pretty much the most of what I saw of him the rest of the day. (Yes, he loves that I take pictures of him when he is sick, why do you ask?)

The rest of the week seemed to pretty much go the same way. Go to work, come home, go to bed with Vicks and tissues. Sometimes, two boxes of tissues. And some antacids.

You may have noticed that the list shown above was titled "To do this weekend". It originally said To do This Week. I added the "end" when on Wednesday night, I conceded to the fact that Mountain Man wasn't going to be doing any honey do's this week.

So that is when I started making weekend plans. Uh huh. Right. Hear God laughing?

Friday night, Mountain Man comes home from work, says he is feeling better. Yay! Things are looking good for the weekend. Then he reminds me that he made plans with his brother for the weekend and was supposed to be going up north to see him. Then he quickly added that I was more than welcome to join them.

Let's see... Late Janurary in Michigan. Outdoors in the snow. And the cold. Small game hunting. Oh, hold me back. The fun. The excitement. He said he really wanted me to go. Wait. Scratch that. He didn't say it, he whined it. So much for my plans. Good grief.

While I packed a weekend bag (overstuffed with reading material and my laptop to help keep me sane) I overheard him on the phone with his brother saying something about meeting at the hunting spot. My ears perked up when he then said my name followed by "she would like to see if there are any thrift stores in the area, so she might go while we are hunting." Okay, so maybe things were starting to look up.

After a two hour drive and some great conversation (we always have great conversation in the car, why is that?) we arrived at the hunting grounds. Snow covered ground surrounds us. That doesn't stop Mountain Man who plows right into the snowy field. He LOVES to switch the vehicle into four wheel drive. He does it with such gusto.

His brother arrives at the same time, with the same gusto. As soon as we get to the spot, however, we realize that his brother had gotten himself stuck in the snow.

After a few attempts of spinning the tires and digging in further and further, rocking, pushing, kicking the snow (yes, really!) and exhausting all of the typical Michigan winter bag of tricks, Mountain Man decides that he has to "rescue" his brother. I could see his chest beginning to swell. I could also see the thrift store shopping starting to fade into the sunset. We were gonna be here a while.

So, Mountain Man goes to get his trusty rope. I took one look at it and laughed out loud. There was no way that that wimpy looking clothes line kind of rope was going to pull a vehicle. Our golden retriever, Bella, was also concerned with the choice of rope and went to tell Mountain Man so.

I was very glad at this point that I had chosen the cell phone I had, because I was really busy taking pictures of this adventure and the batteries in my camera died. I finished with with the cell phone.

While the rope was being tied to the two vehicles, I could hear Mountain Man and his brother talking about the process about to unfold. His brother was muttering something about bragging rights about getting him out of the snow, when Mountain Man said he would be less concerned about who he was going to brag to and more concerned about where the pictures I was taking were going to end up. What? Who meeee??? I am purely an innocent by-stander. I would never...

So when the pulling commenced, I'll be danged! The darn rope did work! Mountain Man pulled his brother out of the snow, and then kept right on going, and going, and going, and then went a smidge more. Just because he could. Part of that braggin' rights thing I suppose. Men.

After their opening act was over, I decided that there was no way I was going to try to drive out of this place on my own. I wasn't gonna get stuck and need rescued, that was for darn sure. Besides, I wanted to stick around and see what other antics that may be coming up in act two. I was not disappointed. Enter the dogs.

Jess is my brother in law's "hunting" dog, a cute little beagle with big attitude. She had been standing around with Bella, taking in all the action, and decided that she had had enough of waiting in the cold and snow. The second she saw the opportunity, she jumped in our vehicle.

Well, the other one HAD been stuck. Smart dog.

While the hunters were gathering their gear, mounting up for the hunt, and building me a small fire to warm myself by while they were hunting, Jess looked at me as if to say "If they ask, you haven't seen me. I'll be in the back."

So my brother in law commences to looking for his "hunting" dog. At this point I am getting a fit of the giggles like I haven't had in ages. Who knew hunting could be soooo much fun???

Now, to the everyday Joe, that may look like an innocent softball. However, those that know my dog, Bella, know that she never goes outside without it. Ever. Those that know my dog also know to never ever pick it up. They know to not make eye contact with it while in Bella's field of vision. God forbid you ever actually pick it up and throw it, for if you do, you have unknowingly just entered into a mind numbing, never-ending game of "throw the ball". Throw it again. Again. Again. Throw it again. One more. Again. Again. Throw the ball.

Get the picture? Yeah.

My brother in law knows this. He knows this! But... because his "hunting" dog was MIA, out of desperation for something to do, he does the unthinkable... he threw the ball. And so begins the next series of photos that need no explaination:

She did stop long enough to chew some snow out of her paws...

Why do dogs bite the snow? Just wonderin'.

Breathless, yet still wants to play throw the ball.

Look at those tracks in the snow. I tell you, she is relentless!

Wait! What's this?

Snow with no tracks? Throw it again!

And where was Jess, the "hunting" dog, this whole time?

In the car, hiding behind the gloved photographer.

Now, as if this series of events wasn't enough to just make my day complete (I truly enjoyed myself, the sun was shining, I was warm, and I laughed more than I had laughed in ages!), when the "hunting" was over, on the way back home, Mountain Man asked me what I would like to do next.

As we arrived at my brother in law's I went in and immediately went to my computer to start looking up addresses of thrift stores in the area. Yes! I figured if I could go "hunting" with them, they could go "hunting" with me. Fair is fair, right?

So, like the good sports that they are, they agreed. I found 8 stores and wrote down the addresses. It was getting late though, and I didn't figure we would get to all 8, but I was going to give it my best effort. We headed out with my list of addresses, choosing the closest one first. Close, but no cigar. Closed.

Undetered, we headed to the next one. Closed. Dang! Third store, closed. We kept going, though I was starting to see a pattern. It was after 5pm and it wasn't looking good.

Just when things were starting to look dismal, we happened upon Goodwill. Brightly lit, buzzing with activity, Goodwill!

We headed in. The first thing that caught my attention was somewhat of an oddity. I am still not sure if I loved it or hated it. I took a picture so that I could contemplate it. I gotta tell ya, the jury is still out...

In some funky kinda way, it speaks to me, but I would be without a clue as to what to do with it if it ever made it's way home with me.

I was in my element. The guys were not so sure. After a bit of muttering and sputtering, they seemed to accept this new form of hunting, and actually started to enjoy themselves.

I made Mountain Man the designated carrier of my pretties.

Then I saw my brother in law looking very closely at this beauty.

I heard laughing. I heard excited conversation. I heard joking and jesting. I heard Mountain Man say "I gotta take a leak."

And thus ended our hunting session at Goodwill. We headed for the checkout. And while Mountain Man paid for my purchases, I happened to turn and look in the bin behind me. That is where I spotted this fun piece:

I smiled as I read it, thinking I couldn't agree more! And then he carried the bags to the car for me. Love that man!

To do list, go away, I'd rather go "hunting" with Mountain Man.

Til next time!

Lisa

My Little Pretties

2010-01-29T07:44:00.002-05:00

I consider even a bad day thrifting to be a good day, because... well... I am thrifting! It is one of my greatest obsessions. Even if I don't find a thing, I still love the thrill of the hunt. I love to consider the possibilities, the "what ifs" and the "how abouts".

I swear, when I walk into a thrift store, my eyes focus a bit sharper, I hear harp music, my palms start to get clammy, and my heart rate quickens as I escalate into what I call "the mode". And most thrift stores don't even have escalators.

You have to be in "the mode" in order to find the perfect find. What's a perfect find, you might ask? You can read all about it in my first post. There are definitions there for you to understand the perfect find. Yes. I said definitions. Don't worry, there isn't a quiz.

So last Sunday, it was a dreary January day here. Cold, rainy, gray skies. Ick. My daughter called and asked her favorite question. "Whatcha doin' Momma?" Don't ask me why. The girl has asked it since she learned how to talk. Come to think of it, that may have been her first sentence. Sure seems that way. Anywhoooo...

After whining in her ear for a good ten minutes about how cruddy the weather was and how down trodden I was feeling because of said weather, one of the two of us pitched the idea. I don't remember who said it. Doesn't matter. The fact is, it was said. "Wanna go thrifting?"

As fast as a lightning bolt flashes across the sky, my mood went from down trodden to... um... up trodden??? Whatever. I was giddy! As in giddy-up-go!

We had to hurry though, we had a thirty minute drive and it was already 3:00, the store closes at 5 PM. Remember this, it is important.

This was going to be a great day. I could feel it. I wasn't wrong.

Let me introduce you to a great day of thrifting in a little tale that I am calling "My Little Pretties."

One of my favorite hunting spots is a Goodwill store that is in a town about 30 minutes south of here. It is divided into two parts. One part that is set up like a retail store with items placed on shelves and such; the other part is, well... not. Let's just say that the other part is the part where the true sport of hunting comes into the picture.

Some people would immediately be turned off by the mere sight of mounds and mounds of unfolded clothing, items stacked haphazardly on the shelves that line the entire perimeter of the room, and items put with other items that should never be put in the same room together, let alone sit next to each other.

Now, you may be asking why on earth I love to go to this place. Well, let me tell ya why! In that frumpy part of the room, I have never paid more than a dollar for any given item. Wait. Not true. I paid $12 for my chandelier. A cast iron, heavy as heck, be-tassled beauty that I am going to be showing off here soon. But, other than that, I have never paid more than a dollar for any purchase there. Ever. Well, til last Sunday. But I am getting ahead of myself.

So we left home at 3:00 PM, made the thirty minute drive to Goodwill. We walk in. It is 3:45 PM. Okay, we stopped for a snack, sheesh! Eyes start to scan the room, palms getting clammy, harp music, good, good, better grab a cart, I am feeling the mode today. I step onto the escalator and so it begins. Enter character number one.

This little apothecary cutie practically jumped into my cart all by herself. She was jumping up and down on the shelf, screaming "Pick me! Pick me!" like she was a contestant on The Price is Right and I was Bob Barker.

I have big plans for her this weekend.

Oh, did I mention? She was a quarter. Don't hate.

Next up. These may look like two styrofoam balls to the untrained eye. I see the bases for my next two topiaries. Quarter.

These tiny twins are just begging to become something greater. Anyone who's been around the decorating blogs in blog world knows that these are not just candle holders. They stand just about two inches tall and are dying to be the sturdy little base of an adorable creation I am whipping up this weekend. Don't get ahead of me.

This is where the ability to sharpen your focus comes in handy. You are going to have to look deep here. Hidden far beneath all of the "decorative" frou frou, the trained thrifter's eye sees a lovely weathered white heart shaped wreath. Look deep, she's there. Fifty cents, and some frou frou to boot!

I rounded the corner and whoa horsey! The Goodwill has added a new feature. A pillow bin! A pillow bin with a sign. A pillow bin with a sign that reads "All Pillows, $1.00"

Hello!

So I dove in like a kid in a ball pit at Chucky Cheese's and commenced to sortin'. Amongst all of the run-of-the-mill pink and powder blue polyester throw pillows that always seem to have a discolored stain shaped like Italy (or something equally as odd), were two pillows that were very, very frightened. Both of them were sitting together and when they saw me, they begged me to please get them out of there. I was happy to oblige.

This one had a tiny stain on the flower on the left hand side. I figured for a dollar, she was worth trying to save, I mean look at that lovely embroidery work! Can you say vintage? Can you say goes perfectly with the decor I am planning for my studio/guest room makeover? Well? Can you?

As a side note, there is an absolute gem of a stain remover out there called Awesome. No, I am not making it up. I brought this pillow home and sprayed that stain with Awesome, tossed it in the laundry, and poof, stain gone. This stuff has worked on everything I have used it on. No joke. One product that lives up to it's name. Yeah, I know. I should be in commercials.

Do you see a stain? I see a drop dead gorgeous battenburg lace pillow. Yep, that's what I see. And she's cushy as all get out.

Let me introduce you to her friend. A "Vintage Modern Thomas O'Brien" pillow. French Blue twill with shimmery gold embroidery. These sold at Target for $29.99. Oh, did I forget to mention? I got her for a dollar.

There wasn't a thing wrong with her. Other than the fact that she was amongst all the pillows with the Italian stains. That meant that she would have to be washed. For a dollar, I was willing to risk it. So I got her home, only to find this:

A very discreet hidden zipper that only the best designer pillows have. And I knew she was soft, but when I unzipped the cover to wash it, only then did I discover why: She is a goose down pillow! Filled with soft downy goodness. I washed the cover and while it washed, I collected some stray feathers that had come out of the pillow form and transformed my birdnest.

From this:to this:

And the results of the washing?

Perfection! I can't find one single solitary snag or thread out of place. Love.

At this point, I headed over to the shelves of doom. You remember, the shelves where things sit side by side that should never sit side by side. Like, for instance, a crusty old stained telephone with a cord that had more kinks and curls in it than Nicole Kidman's hair (remember Days of Thunder? Wow. Remeber telephone cords? Double wow!). Sitting next to the phone from Joe's Garage (it said so in black magic marker, okay?) was this delicate little beauty. Again, the trained eye.

French Blue. Embossed texture. Made in England. Fifty cents.

Slowly, I walk along the shelves of doom, looking, sorting, inevitably up on my tippy toes at some point because I am vertically challenged (my hubby likes to tell people I am all of five foot nuttin') when hit the brakes, Sally, what do we have here?

Only the most adorable place card holders on the planet!

Now mind you, I don't ever set a table fancy enough to warrent the use of place card holders, but for a dollar, I just might start.

Nah, it would just confuse Mountain Man.

In reality, these beauties will probably work their way into a craft project or six. I think they would make adorable lables for plants, sitting in front of pots of herbs in my kitchen window. If I had pots of herbs in my kitchen window.

Perhaps I will start growing some, in this pretty little pot.

This is where I broke my record of only spending a dollar. She was $1.50. But tell me she isn't worth it! The photo doesn't do her justice. Tiny shards of shiny china and beautiful blue grout lines. Lovely! Again, on the shelves of doom. I know!

No sooner did I sit the pot in my cart, when I looked down on the bottom shelf and sitting there as cute as could be was this adorable little fella.

How could I resist those ears?

That tail?

That price! Twenty. Five. Cents!

Get in my cart!

Now in the next photo, some of you may see a white tray adorned with patriotic goodness.

Patriotic, nautical, Pisces goodness.

Emphasis on the goodness. As in "GOODNESS!" Which happened to be my exact first response when I spotted it.

But upon further contemplation, I started to see a pretty little moss filled picket fence yard for my adorable new bunny to sit and munch carrots in.

Fifty cents. Get in the cart.

Rounding out the tour past the shelves of doom, I found these two familiar friends chatting.

I noticed right away that one was twenty five cents, while the other was thirty and was getting ready to get my barter on, when I suddenly realized that one was a smidge taller than the other. It obviously took more glass to make this one. About five cents more, I'd say. Yeah.

So I finished my rounds on the shelves of doom and went to find my daughter. I found her looking at picture frames in the retail side of the store. She is such a wimp. The shelves of doom scare her. Anyway, she found a frame she loved but had left her wallet in the car.

Being the awesome mom that I am, I put it in my cart. My treat. Fifty cents. Yeah, I always did spoil her with extravagant items.

We headed for the checkout, when all of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye I spotted this little beauty.

I wasn't in love with the contents of the jar, but I was head over heels in love with the fact that it was an egg shaped jar. I picked it up only to discover that the lid was glued on. I sat it back down and headed to the checkout. A little bit sad. I am sure my bottom lip was protruding.

However, I was soon my joyous self again when I got all of my goodies rung up and the grand total was...

Are you ready for this?

A whopping $8.90! Score! Notice the time. 4:11 PM. It's important.

Remember way up there at the top of this story when I said I love the "what ifs" of thrifting? I did. Trust me, you don't have to scroll all the way back up there. Well, I checked out, grabbed my bags of loot, and got just to the door to exit, when a "what if" hit me smack dab in the middle of my forehead.

Now I have been thrifting long enough to know that there is such a thing as "non-buyers remorse". Non-buyers remorse is when you find something that you decide against purchasing, only to get home and wish you had. For me it usually happens when I see a very similar item grace the pages of the Pottery Barn catalog that inevitably awaits me in the mail box on my way home from the thrift store. Or better yet, on a fellow blogger's blog. This is when I commence to banging my head on my keyboard while simultaneously chanting "Why? Why? Why? Stupid girl, stupid, stupid girl" or something just as uplifting.

So I am half way out the door when I get hit by the "what if". What if I could get the lid off? I yell ahead to my daughter, "Hey, take my bags, I will be right back" to which she rolls her eyes and says "Keys." She knows me so well.

I go rushing back to the shelves of doom with the crazed look of a woman who has experienced non-buyers remorse one too many times. Scanning, scanning, ah, there it is! And stop the bus! How did I miss this on my first time through? There, sitting next to the pretty glass egg was this little charmer:

Bright and shiny in her Easter colors, and brand new, still has her original "not recommended blah, blah, blah" sticker on her!

Sooooo, I head back to the same checkout clerk, who didn't even bat an eye that I was back again (do you suppose they see this behavior often???), slapped my coins on the counter, and dashed out the door to my awaiting daughter, who had my vehicle started and my seat warmer turned on. Love that girl!

Notice the time. 4:17 PM. Notice the total of the two receipts. $9.43.

Dang, I'm good!

Til next time!

Lisa

I think I beat the clock!

2010-01-29T03:41:00.002-05:00

After reading through the comments left here, I think most of you actually liked the direction my clock project was headed. Either that, or you were just being kind. I'll take either one.

When we last talked (well, I did most of the talking, you just kinda read it and nodded once in a while), this was the jist of the conversation. I had this clock:

We had some issues. Some bad things were said that I felt terrible about afterward. We didn't even look at each other for a few days while letting the dust settle from our last encounter. I felt like I was trying to help someone that just didn't want to be helped. The last time I saw her, she looked like she was doing better, but she was still really angry:

So, today, I couldn't take it any longer. Do you know how hard it is to live under the same roof and not speak to each other? Today I sat across the table from her and looked her straight in the face. Uhem. Clock/Face. Get it?

We had a heart to heart chat. Okay, what???

I know it's an inanimate object, humor me. I said "Clock (cause that is what she wanted me to call her), we really should try to be friends. I promise that I mean you no harm. I only want to help you. Really. Ever seen Breakfast Club? The scene with Molly Ringwald and Ally Sheedy, where Molly does Ally's makeup? Yeah, that scene. That is basically what I want to do for you, clock. Would that be okay with you?"

She didn't answer right away, but her face looked slightly intrigued. (sorry, couldn't help myself, I heard you groan, by the way.) Then I saw the slightest glimmer of hope when she threw both of her hands open wide (I know, I know!) and she allowed me to ever so tastefully apply the makeup.

I started off really slow, and with a steady hand, I applied this lovely blue color with some French Script flair. She was motionless and silent. The only sound in the room was the ticking of her little second hand. Her face sat watching mine as I slowly lifted the stamp off to reveal what I hoped would be the start of an incredible makeover.

While her makeup was drying, she asked if she could see what else I had in my bag of tricks. I let her lead me and she chose the following items to experiment with:

So I loaded up my brush again and we added a little more French flair with a lovely harlequin pattern in a soft taupe brown.

The true beauty that lay under that peachy former self was finally starting to emerge. You could feel the excitement in the air. I swear her ticker started to tick louder. Really. I wouldn't make this stuff up.

All of a sudden, she truly shocked me! She decided that she wanted a tattoo! My first thought was, "Lord, what have I done?" but I quickly decided that I didn't want to muddy the waters with her again and would do as she wished. We decided to go with a simple gray.

However, as soon as we saw it, we knew it wasn't right. It didn't match her warm taupe and the gold we had put around her lovely face. I quickly dug into my makeup bag and with a careful touchup, we had fixed the issue, and did some beautiful highlighting as well. It really plays off of her features, and now she is sporting some new ink. Well, acrylic, actually.

Then she really started getting into it, even posing for the camera, for some full body shots. Work it... work it... own it.

While we were "fixing" her tattoo, we also added some highlights to her light brown stripes, which we later decided were "over processed" looking, and went back to just the taupe goodness. We discussed gold highlights, but we're gonna sleep on it. We also decided she needed some more gold to bring out her face and cover up some of the dark circles that the 13 years of hunter green makeup had left on her.

There are still some creases and crevices in all the wrong places, but she has aged with beauty and grace, and don't we always say wrinkles add character and help tell your story?

All in all, it was a wonderful day. I ended up with a new friend, a pretty little French diva, who now wants to be known as "Rene" (which means re-born). We have plans tomorrow to do some accessory shopping with a quick stop for a Café au lait. For me. She says they make her jittery and keep her up round the clock. Seriously. 24/7. Poor thing.

So that's it for now. Will be linking up later on this weekend with some great linky parties, starting with Transformation Thursday at The Shabby Chic Cottage. Til then, let me just boggle your mind with what I am going to be working on this coming weekend. My latest Thrift Store finds! Feast your eyes on this haul of goodies.

You won't believe it when I tell you how much ALL of this came to. Stay tuned!

Til next time!

Lisa

Giveaways Galore!

2010-01-27T02:24:00.000-05:00

I have recently found that within the blog kingdom there are literally hundreds of kindhearted people that host giveaways on a regular basis. It boggles my mind how many of them are taking place.

Now, I never win anything, mind you, but I realized today, that it is probably because I say to myself "That would be wonderful to win, but I never win anything" and then I don't enter. Do you think that has something to do with it?

Well, that is about to change, because today I was cruising blogger world and came across some pretty spectacular giveaways that I simply have to try for.

For instance, in a really long shot, I entered the one at The Nesting Place. I am one of over 500 entries, but doggone it, I entered. I mean look at this lovely piece, who wouldn't want a chance at this?

And this one, at one of my new favorite blogs, Sissie's Shabby Cottage. Pardon me while I drool!

And last, but certainly not least, this beautiful bunch of beachy goodness is being given away by Low Tide High Style and if I win that seashell or the plate, I will squeal like a school girl!

What awesome giveaways, yes? I am crossing my fingers and my toes for these prizes. I may even cross my eyes if I thought it would help.

Til next time!

Lisa

Oh! So Rouge!

2010-01-25T07:34:00.006-05:00

Sounds fabulous! Sounds French! Sounds yummy, oui? Um, no.

To those unfamiliar with the word, let me introduce you:

rogue (rōg)
noun
1.a rascal; scoundrel
2. unprincipaled; deceitful; unreliable
3. varying markedly from the standard

transitive verb (roguing)
1. to destroy

adjective

1.acting in defiance of established laws, customs, etc.
2. operating outside of normal or desirable controls
3. destructive, anomalous, unpredictable

Yeah. That about sums up my project.

I present to you The Rouge Clock.

I found this seemingly innocent little clock at a local thrift store a few weeks before Christmas. I wasn't really sure if it worked or what I wanted to do with it, but I knew under all it's peach and hunter green crackle paint goodness, there had to be some potential. I slapped my dollar on the counter and hauled it home. My first thought was to paint it a colonial red and use it in my livingroom.

I decided to put this project on the back burner until after the holidays but before I put it away, I doodled a checked pattern on it with a pencil to see if I liked the idea of a black and white check instead. Seemed reasonable enough. It was while I was doodling, that I turned the clock upside down and discovered that someone named Anne had been the last one to trod this path because there in all the peach and hunter green crackled goodness it said simply "Anne 1997." This clock had it's current decor for 13 years. Good thing I am not superstituous.

So yesterday, at exactly 6:23:43 PM, I entered into a battle of the wills with said clock. After searching both high and low for my paint can opener thingy (yes, that is the official name) and not finding it, I resorted to the next best thing.

Nail clippers. Cause I'm clever like that, and stuff.

I gathered all the essential tools to complete the task, like any good crafter would. An ultra precise mixing cup of just the right custom mixed paint; a screwdriver that was too large to remove the screws from the back of the clock (No worries. I can paint around that part. Famous last words.); and last but not least, my cell phone, in case I needed to call for back up, ever so carefully placed out of harm's way. Uhem.

Okay, so now that all of the "proper" equipment was assembled, I got busy and went at this project with all I had.

I really put my heart and soul and fingers into it. Pay no attention to that small discolored blob to the left of the clock face. Nor the other one that is on the ridge along the top of the clock. Nor the fact that the clock is sitting upside down to dry. Those are none of your concern.

If you will notice in the above picture, the little part that you can see of the clock hand tells us that it is sometime before 11 PM. Go ahead and crank your head around so you can see it. I'll wait. (insert Jeopardy music here.)

I had just finished painting the bottom of the clock and was sitting back to admire my handiwork when I noticed the discolored blobs and freaked out just a wee bit, grabbed the bottom of the clock that I had just painted (!?!?) and attempted to flip it upright so that I could fix the blobs. Did I mention it was almost 11 PM?

In this photo you will notice some of the more technical tools that any good crafter has in his/her stash: emery boards and box cutters; used for removing (say it with me) "discolored blobs!" Very good!

So, after touching up the finger smudges in the paint, I sat the ~~beast~~ clock upright once again, to allow the lovely, soft, French Blue paint to...

That's not French Blue! That's not lovely or soft either. This anomoly looked like it had just finished baking in the hot Jamaican sun. It might be Bahama Breeze, or Barbados Blue, (both lovely colors in their own right) but that is definately not French Blue. See my lovely, soft, ever so delicate tin?

That is French Blue. To quote Tim Gunn : "Egads!"

By the way, it took me all of a minute and fifteen seconds to find and photograph a comparison for you. This project came with a built in time lapse photography upgrade. Who knew?

Okay, insert plan B here. Like I said the other day, I do a lot of Plan B projects around this place. I wasn't aware that I would be predicting my not so distant future. Again, who knew?

Plan B: Whitewash.

Better. Still not great. And why is it always upside down? 11:37 PM. I have now been at this project for 5 hours, 14 minutes, and 27 seconds. My brain is on overload and I need to walk away. I need to gather my thoughts. I need to... hey, we have...

...White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies!!!

Sorry, I got sidetracked. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program, ~~"The Devil's Time Piece."~~ "The Rogue Clock". Same difference.

While ~~scarfing down~~ slowly savoring the very last one of our cookies (a gift from a friend, thanks Audrey!) I came up with the idea of trying yet another application of crackle paint on this clock. I figured, heck, it lasted 13 years on the previous paint job, if you can't beat em' join em'!

Who am I kidding? This clock had so many cracks, crevices and pock marks that crackle paint was the only thing I could come up with to disguise this hot mess of a project. Besides, I HATE sanding. There, I said it.

This is a lot like watching paint dry. Ha! I crack myself up.

Actually, I was trying to get a photo of the crackle paint application, just in case this project actually turned out and I turned it into a fancy schmancy tutorial. Like that's gonna happen.

One thing I can tell you, is that when you work with crackle paint, you have to work fast. The bottle says to not let it dry completely, just until tacky. Plenty of that here on this project. How did they know? Spooky, right?

So after applying the crackle paint, I painted over top of it with vanilla something or other (trust me, you are not going to copy this project, so you don't really need to know the exact color, m'kay?) and let it do it's thang. A little crackle here, a big crackle there, here a crackle, there a crackle, everywhere a crackle, crackle. Yeah. You should see me Hokey Pokey.

On a side note, I would like to ask McDonalds to mind their own bee's wax. Do they really want to know how "we" are doing? I have my phone right here, Ronald, and I am not afraid to use it! What is this, one of those help lines like on a Butterball Turkey??? I think not. The nerve! How are we doing. Hmph!

Now look what you made me do, Ronald! I need a new clean up rag. I left one in the laundry room by the paint I was using the other day...

Well would ya' looky there. My paint can opener thingy. Who would have thought to look for it by the can of paint?

So, as a final attempt at trying to redeem any part of this project, I got out my metallic gold paint and did some dry brushing. At this point, my hands were so covered in paint that I quit taking pictures. There was no way I was ever going to show this project on my blog. Finally, I threw my hands up and shouted Uncle at the ceiling. I put away all my ~~junk~~ highly technical craft supplies and went to upload the pictures.

Then, the strangest thing happened. When I uploaded them, I kinda, sorta, in the smallest of ways, actually liked the last one. The one with the drybrushed gold. Is there maybe an inkling of hope that I could pull this project back from the brink of doom? Could it be rescued from the jaws of death? Could I be any more melodramatic about a craft project gone wrong???

You tell me.

I will leave it up to you my dear readers. All three of you. (Hi, Mom!)

Seriously, I am linking this post up to a bunch of places this week to hopefully get some feedback on whether or not this project deserves any more time wasted on it.

Do I continue on my path? Do I pitch it? Do I sign the bottom of it "Lisa 2010" and return it to the thrift store from whence it came? (I can't help but think that Anne owes me an apology and a dollar.) Be sure to leave me a comment below and let me know your vote. Oh, and if you're so inclined, you could sign up to follow my blog too. Afterall, what harm could it do, you followed me on this adventure and survived, didn't you? Besides, when I get to 50 followers, I am going to be hosting a giveaway. I am thinking about giving away a clock. :)

I can't wait to hear what ya'll have to say. (No, I am not from the south, but I lived in Texas for three years, so I am allowed to say ya'll if I want to). I am serious about the giveaway though (not serious about the clock), so stay tuned! I will be busy gathering my next arsenal, just in case. It involves embroidered trim, rubber stamps and a few other tricks I have up my sleeve. I am already working on Plan C. It happens.

Linking up to:

Between Naps on the Porch

Cottage Instincts

Twice Remembered

The Girl Creative

Making the World Cuter

It's So Very Cheri

The Persimmon Perch

Domestically Speaking

Til next time!

Lisa

Feeling the Love

2010-01-22T05:42:00.001-05:00

I cannot imagine a better start to my blogging experience than the one I have been thoroughly enjoying this week! So many have found me and left me comments and sent emails to welcome me to blogging. It was like attending a party and I am definitely feelin' the love!

That picture is a sneak peek at some upcoming Valentine's Day projects that I have in the works and will be sharing some photos with you in the near future. It's a big ol' box of Valentine yumminess. I can't wait to show you what all I am planning! And yes, that little tube of E-6000 glue is supposed to be in the picture. Sort of.

Speaking of Love...

One of the blessings of being "slowed down" by life (many of you don't know that I had a major illness last March, more info on that is coming soon, I promise!) is that in slowing down,

my heart has been turned back toward my home.

At the time I got sick, I was working on building my home based business and working constantly. Like-the-12-14-hours-a-day-kind of constantly. I was working in my home, just not on my home. I had really been lax in this area. I really didn't make the time to care what it looked like, and had become comfortable in my clutter.

With having been pretty housebound for the better part of the summer and early fall, and with my focus on my health instead of my work, my attention on feeling good, I suddenly became more aware of my surroundings and didn't like what I saw. Let's just say I was no longer comfortable with my clutter. My poor hubby, you met him in my last post right? Mountain Man. Yeah, he HATES clutter. With a capital H.A.T.E.S. He is a saint in my eyes, for having put up with my chaos. If there were a contest for Queen of Chaos, I am fairly confident I would be current reigning champion and wearing a crown as I type this to you. Yeah. A big ol' shiny crown. You can't see me, but I am waving "the wave" at you right now. :)

After I got out of the hospital, my mom and dad basically moved in with us (and all of my clutter) for the first six weeks of my recovery, solely to be my care providers so that Mountain Man could return back to work. Mom and Dad, I love you both for the sacrifices you made during this time, and if I haven't told you enough, I am telling you again, thank you from the bottom of my heart. (There's a love theme happening here. Purely unintentional, but I am lovin' it!)

If there were a female version of Mr. Clean, my mom would be her. Except she has hair. Bleach is her weapon of choice and she knows how to use it. It may sound strange to you, but every time I smell the smell of bleach, I think of my mom. And I mean that in a good way. :)

So, couple the fact that my mom is Mrs. Clean and Mountain Man hates clutter. Without me being able to supply a daily dose of clutter, the house didn't stand a chance against the two of them. Seems we constantly had weekly cleaning and organizational projects going on. I wasn't strong enough to help, but they humored me by regularly asking my opinion about things that should be kept, tossed, cleaned, sorted, etc. I was sitting in the midst of dueling white tornadoes, each unknowingly trying to out clean the other on a daily basis. The windows would be flung open in the morning and by noon, the smell of bleach would be wafting throughout the neighborhood. I was both dazed and amazed by this daily process. God slowed me down so that I could take in all of this and learn from it, even at my age. (And you can keep right on wondering what age that might be.) What I was completely unaware of was, that as I kept getting stronger, so was my desire to keep the house looking neat and tidy. I liked having the clutter removed. Who knew?

In our 26 years of marriage, I have always loved to decorate our home. I never stopped liking the decorating process. It was just such a chore to decorate when you first had to empty out so much stuff, then clean where the stuff had been, before any decorating fun could begin. It is much more fun to decorate a clean house than to decorate around the clutter in one. I can remember many a day that I had to find the table before I could set the table, and that led to a lot of dinner's in front of the TV. Nowdays, we get to sit at this pretty table setting and actually talk during dinner.

Now, I am not telling you all of this because I have recently invented the latest greatest cleaning methods (don't make me laugh!) or that I have written a great new organizational book (now that would be hilarious!) but only that we have found a new comfort in our home that we are throughly enjoying. It isn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it is comfortable once again.

I don't recall where I first saw it, but some lovely blogger that I came across out there had the awesome idea of using epsom salts to resemble snow in candle holders and I fell in love with the look. This is my version of it that currently sits on our table. I love the clean, uncluttered feel of it. There's that love word again!

I also love that I was able to use some of the great pieces of blue glass containers that I have recently started to collect at thrift stores!

Such a calm and serene look after all the busy holiday decorations came down. Kinda reminds me of watching snowflakes falling real slow like, onto the ground. We seem to get to do that a lot around here.

Quiet. Restful. Warm. Uncluttered. Feels like home.

With one exception. Reality check coming up.

The day I set this pretty little scene, I turned off all the lights and had just the candles burning and dinner almost ready. Hubby walked in from work without looking up and asked "Why's it so dark in here?" and immediately flipped on the lights, ruining the entire ambiance.

Guess I'll have to break in the Mountain Man slowly.

Once again, I will be linking up to some pretty great Linky parties going on out there. Be sure to check them out for inspiring stories and photos!

I am linking with:

The Inspired Room

Between Naps On the Porch

Thanks again for stopping by!

Have a great weekend!

Lisa

Up and Running...

2010-01-06T15:22:00.035-05:00

Well, I guess the new year is just about the best time I can choose to launch this blog of mine that I have been thinking, worrying, pondering and procrastinating about. So many of my friends and family have been telling me "You really should start a blog," so here I am... blogging. Now what?

I guess the best thing I can do is to just jump in with both feet and get started. I have to tell you though, I am not sure I can ever keep up with some of the amazing people out here in blog land that post daily, sometimes more than once a day, with absolutely incredible stories, projects, and goings on in their lives. It makes me tired and breathe heavy just thinking about trying to keep up with them for a day. Not gonna happen. So, in my little blog, I will share when I can, no promises for daily awesomeness here. My goal is more likely to be little, sporadic doses of awesome. You know, the kind that fly out of left field and knock you on your butt when you aren't looking awesome. That would be me, the Sporadic Awesomeness Blogger. Sounds like I just invented a new super hero.

Yeah, that was my intent...

(This is Bella by the way, my Golden Retriever, and yes, sometimes my super hero.

I am sure you will get a kick out of her antics here as well. Again, more about that later.)

I have been so blessed lately by finding incredible blogs and collecting inspiration and ideas for home decor, recipes, craft projects, stories that make me cry, stories that make me laugh, photos of projects run amuck, etc. I drool over all of the wonderful things I see others doing. They inspire me daily, so I suppose I should just share the inspiration and quit hogging it all for myself, huh? I kinda feel like Gollum in Lord of the Rings. But instead, picture me in a deep, dark cave muttering "My precious, my precious" and sitting in a pile of magazine article clippings, craft supplies, amusing stories and anecdotes, amongst my thrift store finds, clasping a few close to my chest. Mine, mine, mine, me, me, me...

Uhem... Time to share.

I HAVE amassed quite a collection of photos that tell the story of projects that I have worked on. Amazingly enough, some I've even completed. We won't discuss the one's that are still waiting, and if you should ever visit my home, be forewarned, open all closet doors SLOWLY. That's all I'm gonna say about that. I have also been told that I can tell a good story now and then. Perhaps that will be part of my blog as well. The Lord saw to it that I have a story to tell, but it's more like a mini series, so more about that later perhaps.

I guess there is no better time than the present to start sharing. So with that said, I present to you... oh, where to start, where to start... I present to you... aaaaahhhhhggghhhhh... the pressure of making a good first impression... just choose one already... Okay, okay....

The Bench

Have you ever experienced the perfect find? Kindred spirits will know right away what I am talking about. For the rest of you, the perfect find is when you come across something while out in a thrift shop, yard sale, flea market, etc. and it speaks to you. Symptoms of the perfect find may include but are not limited to:

Head to toe chills.
Sudden onset of school-girl giddiness.
Hot or cold sweats.
Heavy breathing.
Grabbing a total stranger by the shoulders and screaming "Isn't it beautiful?"
Jumping up and down and shaking said stranger violently.
Inability to sleep the night you bring said item home due to an overactive imagination that is pondering all of the possibilities that this new treasure is going to bring to your life.
Typing run on sentences when writing about the perfect find.

This is the story of the perfect find.

My daughter and I were out shopping at the Salvation Army Thrift Store (one of my favorite thrift stores in the area, and one of my favorite charities) early this past fall when I came upon this little pretty. She was stuffed in amongst a dozen or so downtrodden dressers. I glanced in her direction (yes, for the record she IS a she) and looked away to the next row when suddenly my neck snapped back in her direction at the speed of light. I swear I heard harps off in the distance. No, really. (Insert head to toe chills here.) Using the utmost caution, I approached her slowly, as to not cause a commotion. I didn't want someone else running up and claiming her as their own, when it was oh so obvious that she was going to go home with me. (sounds kinda like a bad country song, right?) So as I meandered over to the aisle she was in, trying to look uninterested, when in reality my heart was pounding, I rounded the corner to find another lady headed in her direction. Suddenly, out of the blue I am in an all out adult game of musical chairs and the music had just stopped! Let's just say my pace quickened. I got to her and sat down with a jolt, right on the price tag. I do believe it was all in my imagination though, because the lady passed us by without even a glance in our direction. (insert heavy breathing and hot and cold sweats here). Forgive me Lord. I do love this bench.

So, after regaining what little dignity I had left... oh, who am I kidding? My dignity had flown out the window the second I thought someone else was interested in her. That should read: as soon as I could again see straight, I scooched aside, and with one eye tightly shut, the other slightly opened, and with a look that said "Please , Lord, let it be something I can afford" etched into my face, I looked down at the price tag I had been sitting on. "Please?"

Psalm 37:4 says "Delight yourself in the Lord,

and He shall give you the desires of your heart."

My willingness to make a fool of myself must have been highly entertaining to Him, because as I looked down and focused my one squinched eye on the orange price tags that I am way too familiar with, it read $34.99! If you could read my thoughts (technically, you are already doing that...) they would have went something like this: "Oh Joy! Oh Jubilation! Oh my goodness! Today is 25% off wooden furniture day!" I quickly did the math in my head. Twice. Because I know I have been wrong before and probably will be again. The price for this treasured girl was a mere $26.24. (Note to self: I should get a calculator for my purse for such occasions. Nuff said.) In one swift motion, I reached down and tore the orange price tag in half. Don't worry, I wasn't on a rant or anything. You are supposed to do that. That is what let's others know that the piece is already spoken for, should they happen across an item that has already been purchased or is in the process of being sold. As I sat there, my mind racing with the possibilities this girl had in her, I was trying to reason out in my head what had drawn me to her. My hands gently went across the seat, which was in bad shape and needed some TLC. Nope, that wasn't it. I ran my hand across the curve of the sides. Nice, but no. Then I stood up and suddenly realized what it was. The SPINDLES! I loved the style of them, the shape of them, the size. Everything about them is what gave this little bench her personality and charm. I loved them so much that I was running my fingers back and forth on them, making a noise similar to when you stick a baseball card in bicycle spokes, when my daughter interupted my daydream with "Momma, whatcha doin?" Before you go picturing her as a small child in your mind's eye, I need to tell you that she is 22, but yes, she still calls me Momma.

This is my daughter, Meagan, on her wedding day.

Sigh. Love that girl.

In the above mentioned definition of a perfect find, I stated that you could perhaps grab a stranger by the shoulders while shaking them and shouting "Isn't she beautiful?". This works equally as well with family members. In fact, my daughter is used to this behavior coming from me, and well... sometimes she expects it. Especially in thrift stores. (insert sudden onset of school girl giddiness here.) On the way home we stopped off at my friend JoAnn's place ( you may know Joann, Joann Fabrics? Yeah, she has a lot of friends...) I knew exactly what I needed. Grabbed two foam pieces that looked like they would fit and guessed on the fabric amount I would need. I KNOW! I never measure anything. Most of the time it works out. Sometimes it doesn't. I do a lot of Plan B projects around this place.

So, flash forward to my yard. That is where the photos were taken. I knew that this beauty had potential and I wasn't going to waste one minute of daylight in getting started on this project. I brought her home, brushed her off with a whisk broom, got a screwdriver to remove the seat, and started painting. No, I didn't prime. No, I didn't clean her with a wood cleaner. I simply brushed her dust off and took a damp paper towel to the really dusty parts. (If you are looking for the "How to Refinish Furniture Perfectly" blog, then sadly, my new friend, you are at the wrong blog. ) Then I spray painted. Satin finish black spray paint. Sorry, I don't recall the brand name or even where I bought it. I know, bad blogger, bad blogger. I will do better next time. Maybe. Maybe not.

I started spraying at one end and by the time I finished at the other, it was dry already. Thank you Jesus for a nice sunny day! So I gave it a second coat and while that dried, I went in the house to deal with the seat.

I had two of these:

That needed stapled to one of these:

I was so happy to discover that it was such a perfect fit, that I forgot to take pictures of the process of getting the fabric and foam attached to the seat. It went something like this: Place the foam down on the bench seat. Lay fabric over the top of the foam. Flip. Check to make sure they stayed lined up. Nope. Adjust. Fold fabric over the bottom of the bench seat like you are wrapping a big present. Staple. Staple. Staple. Staple again. Again. Staple. Keep stapling. You got the idea? Good.

When I got it done, I realized that the place that the hinges had come out of were now 2 inches below the top of the 3 inch cushion I just added to the bench seat. Ooops. See, there is always an oops in my projects. Never a quitter, I tried and tried to squish the seat cushion out of the way, but I simply wasn't strong enough to do that and hold the drill in place to set the screws. I needed backup. At that very moment, my son Matt came walking in the door from work. "Whatcha doin' Momma?" He also calls me Momma, he's 24.

Sigh. Love that boy.

So, after Matt took over with the drill while I stood on the seat bottom, we managed to squish the foam flat enough to allow us to install the hinges back on the bench. It was soooo worth the effort. Look at my girl in all her glory! Just don't look at the unfinished beadboard walls behind her. We are in the middle of a kitchen redo around these parts.

Here she is posing with some of her new friends:

So there you have it. My seemingly neverending first blog post. Wow. If you stuck around this long, you must a.) think me incredibly funny and charming; b.) need a new hobby or c.) be one of those people I paid to come here. Either way, I am glad to have had your ear for a while. If you are so inclined, leave me a comment to let me know you were here, otherwise, I will feel that I spent all this time talking to the walls. Not that I mind that, they are good listeners. It's just sometimes human interaction can be nice. ;) Speaking of human interaction, the dinner timer just went off and I am going to go have dinner with this man:

My hubby of 26 years, Bob, who I call Mountain Man.

(talk about the Perfect Find! :)

I am linking up to: Between Naps on the Porch A Soft Place to Land Blue Cricket Design Domestically Speaking Somewhat Simple The Shabby Chic Cottage

Be sure to check out all the other great projects!

Thanks for stopping by!

Lisa

P.S. I would do one of those cool signatures that I see on other blogs all the time, but I don't know how. If you do, could you leave a comment about that too? Thanks!