One little project deserved a bigger one…

My little two-hour sewing project and little purse made yesterday afternoon, proved I can’t leave well enough alone.

I made myself a diaper bag last night. Because I can’t just sew something small and quit while my back is still fully functioning. No, I must find something else to make, dig through scraps until I find enough fabric, and sew until I can’t sit up straight or move without pain. I’ve always wished for a sewing room. Turns out, that might be a bad idea. I’d be forever sewing instead of leaving the machine tucked away because it’s too much work to haul everything down the stairs to a big enough work space.

But, on the bright side, I now have an extra-large ultra-colorful diaper bag with lots of pockets for when baby’s born! Since I have all the baby clothes, bed, blankets, diapers, and everything else I need for a newborn kept from the others, it was kind of fun to do something new for the new baby – you know, the one that won’t be born, Lord willing, for another five months. I might have to find an excuse to use it before then.

Projects while the sickie sleeps.

Pierce has been sick this weekend. It started Friday night. About the time he was sent to bed, he started crying. And crying. And 16 hours later, he finally quit crying and fell into an exhausted sleep. Ibuprofen didn’t even slow him down. Teething tablets did nothing. Discussions were made as to whether to take him to the doctor, not having a clue why he was crying and he refused to talk or point what hurt or anything to indicate what the problem was, but in the end, we stayed home. Hard decisions. He’s recovering, sleeping a ton, mostly on me, and now says his teeth hurt. Hello, am I glad I didn’t take him to Urgent Care over teething. “Yeah, we have a mom of six here who can’t figure out her son is getting a new tooth. You’d think she’d have figured this one out by now.” Nope. Not a clue.

But, on that note, I stayed home from church today. Blaine teaches Sunday school, so there’s not much choice. I’m the dispensable one. So, while Pierce slept, I sewed. Rough morning, to be sure. I made this:

While I had visions of it being, oh, about twice as big, (It’s 8”x10” finished.) I made one true to pattern and now, I’ll attempt to double it, I think. I used fabric leftover from other projects (a few slings contain these fabrics) so it cost me nothing. Kinda fun. I went to a popular bag company party a few weeks ago and found myself looking at the catalog thinking, “I could so make that – and it wouldn’t cost me $65.” I walked away feeling horrible for buying nothing, but inspired to get out my sewing machine. Fun.

Oh, for cute.

Four new circle skirts

made from this pattern

slightly edited on the waistband for ease of knowing where the back is (and covering my sewing machine’s hatred for sewing two piece of elastic together)

and four new necklaces, made from matching fabric from this pattern,

made four very happy girls. Four very cute very happy girls.

With skirts that spin out like every little girl’s dream,

it makes my shorts/leggings under every dress/skirt rule very, very important!

Organize the big-family van.

Or organize your smaller-family car. You pick. Either way, these things have really helped me:

• I put bowls (because plates and cars don’t get along) and cups and spoons in the van, to stay there. Everyone has one, their name is on it, and we keep them out there. We don’t eat in the van all that much, but when we do, messes are made. This makes messes so much less, and the Sharpie-marker labels let me know who didn’t return their bowl when I gather them back up.
• Bibs. I’ve gotten too many places and found our children, having eaten cereal bars on the way to our morning appointments, are sticky and dirty. Pocket bibs will save their clothes and quite possibly their car seat straps. Ours hang on the door’s big pull handle.
• Wipes. Because bibs won’t save the face or the hands. Unfortunately.
• Sunglasses. I finally found a home for them, and it’s working. They stay in the van, in an appropriately sized tote with clamp-style lid. I’ve been tempted to do the same with sun hats too this summer.
• Totes with lids. We have one for garbage, one for sunglasses, one for plastic ware, and one for the tire-repair kit.
• All of the above is in a box that slides under the seat. No more sliding items from one end of the vehicle to the other.
• A milk crate for the incidentals. Extra pants for Pierce, Kleenexes, the bucket of honey-wheat pretzels that stays in the car when we’re starving and not home yet, coupons for drive-through places, sunscreen and an extra sippy cup all stay in the milk crate, which also slides under the seat. (A different seat. They aren’t that big!)
• A gallon of water. If I’m really doing well, it’s freshly filled and kept in a cooler bag in the summertime. But, wet is wet, and when desperate, even hot water will quench an awful thirst.
• The potty chair. If your kids are under the age of six, particularly girls, this may just save you. A few shopping bags to line the seat and gather the unfortunate #2 to easily throw away bag and contents so the entire vehicle’s passengers don’t have to smell said potty chair contents will make you their hero.
• Hand sanitizer. Enough said.
• A garbage. See point 5 above, but it will make a big leap in keeping the whole place cleaner. I’m contemplating a garbage for each row.
• I found half-size milk crates. They slide under the edges of my bench seats in my Ford E350 quite well, and store eight water bottles without complaint. Since we all use metal water bottles, they were known to make quite the racket when we stopped or took a sharp curve. Now, they are under the seat, within reach of one of the older girls, so they can hand them out if need be without having them as flying missiles when we come to an abrupt stop.

If you want to take a seat out, take out the one directly behind the driver. While it makes it somewhat harder (but not impossible) to reach the kids in the now-first row back there, you somehow have more space for groceries than taking the back seat out, you don’t lose the row of four seats so you have more seating space, and the unloading of children is much, much faster than when all the seats are close to the front. I don’t know exactly why, but I’ve proven it time and again.

Finally, we have a rule. Empty the van of all of your belongings, and be certain your buddy did as well, or you’ve just volunteered yourself and your buddy for inside detailing of the van. Just like that, my van is cleaner – one way or the other.

Bird Accommodations

When we bought our house three years ago, it was immediately obvious that the people who owned it before us really, really liked birds. Really. With a grand total of eight birdhouses on the property, these birds were well cared for. After three years of working more on our own home and less on birds’ homes, the birdhouses were all in a pretty sad state of disrepair. Last Saturday, they all came down. These two were on 15 foot poles, way up in the air. Blaine pulled them out with the pickup for me. One came down with a crash and fell open.



Upon inspection, under all that old nest debris was wallpaper.
Yeah. These people were serious about their bird accommodations.



Wow.

Spring 2013 Projects: Rock Wall

I married a man of many talents. He doesn’t cook or clean if he can worm his way out of it, but he fixes things and builds things and takes fantastic photos. These photos are mine, not his, so photography judgments aside, here’s the latest thing he’s made me.

After my meager attempts to begin a flower bed last year (See lavender and dianthus plans in the background.) Blaine jumped in and made me a real dirt flower bed. I only had to use the pick for one plant. (Near the back, where the dirt got thinner and the rock shelf we live on was arguing with me.) Every single plant I planted last year required the pick and a ridiculous amount of labor. Blaine, compassionate that he is (and lover of outdoor beauty – and me) maneuvered his pickup oh so carefully up the back pasture to get the rocks. If you could have been a fly on the wall during that ride… you’d have splatted against the windshield. It’s ridiculously rough, full of brush, and all uphill. Flooring the pickup and avoiding trees as he bounced up the hill, I gained a new respect for my husband’s driving abilities. And so, the rock wall was built.

After composting all year, we had a nice pile of rock-free dirt. We moved it down to the front of the house and today I planted flowers. Very fun.

The new rock wall looks remarkably like this one, that he built for me last spring:

 

(Don’t mind the perennials. Spring is still working on springing. I should have wrote this post in a month.)

It also looks a lot like this one, built last summer around the non-bearing cherry tree Sterling insisted his Daddy needed for Father’s Day:

We seem to have a theme going on. And a lot of rocks.

Snapshots: photos of Monday

A project in the making…

A boy who found an open can of peanut butter and an open jar of jelly, climbed on up, and helped himself – deciding to skip the bread.

Self-entertaining children. Realizing that the branch sways almost violently when someone swings, they decided to work together. Liberty got a free ride, Ruby swung away, and Sterling gave Liberty an extra bounce to her ride. (And Brady stood guard. Such a good little dog.)

If you give a mouse a cookie…

A good closet cleanout always produces a pile of castoffs.

A pile of castoffs requires a bit of creativity.

Creativity creates a good project.

One project requires another.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And pretty soon, that pile of castoffs, combined with raiding Grandma’s for unworn T-shirts, and you find yourself with four little girls in remade t-shirt skirts.

I think I should clean out Blaine’s closet next. You never know, I might find something to make a more masculine project for the boys.

P.s. Can you tell which dear daughter has just a bit more sass than all the others, both in the photos and in her color choices?

Time to make soap.

Yesterday was soap making day. I made a double batch of cold-process soap, and separated it out into three batches: lilac, peppermint, and a men’s soap called Sandalwood Bay.

My house smelled interesting. I’m not sure I’d recommend all three scents together.

Lye water. Fun stuff.

Blaine’s idea. When my stick blender had to go back to the company for repairs, he suggested I use this. I thought he might be onto something. After not reaching trace (a thick pudding-like consistency) for an hour and a half, (something that usually takes less than 15 minutes) I gave up, poured into molds, and thought I’d botched my first batch - and it had to be the one I’d documented with the camera. I’m not sure if it was using the stirrer or personal error, but I’m not so sure this was the best method.

Soap making seems like such a feminine, pioneer, industrious business. You know, this:

Photo Credit

But when you use your husband’s drill with a paint stirrer instead, it feels more like this:

Photo Credit

Instead of feminine and lovely, I felt like I was ought to conquer the soap. But the soap won, at least momentarily.

I was afraid to look this morning, fearful it hadn’t set up since it hadn’t reached trace.

But it did. Whew.

Cut it into bars, set it aside to dry for a month, and we’re in business.

It’s soap.

Because that’s the kind of guy he is.

I have a tree.

 

I’ve had a Ficus tree since college. The thing is kind of old. It needed to be repotted, pruned… it’s looking pretty sad right now. Blaine and I looked at pots, but none caught my eye. I clicked over page after page on Amazon. (Thanks to a Amazon Prime membership, compliments of my sister-in-law, 20 gallon pots ship two-day free. Who would have thought?!)

Nothing. Then Blaine found one locally, bought it for me, and brought it home. He even got me purple. And then the (in)famous words were spoken.

“It’s not self watering. But I’ve been looking online, and I think I can make something.”

I nodded, smiled, and I’m sure my eyes got a little bit glazed over. Couldn’t we just put rocks at the bottom like my mother always did?

Oh, no. Certainly not. Yesterday morning I was called into the garage to see the product of all the bumping and scraping and drilling I’d heard.




I’m quite certain I did not make over the invention nearly so much as he desired. It’s a former goat-watering tub, my friends. Re-purposed. I cannot smell the buck’s eu de billy, so all’s good. But is this really necessary?




It’s a pot. With a pipe sticking out of it. That’s where the water goes, I’m told. He even put a stick in the corner of the bedroom so that I can check the water like I check he checks the oil.



I’ll be the first to admit. It' looks lovely. Ten times better. I still think the rocks at the bottom trick would have worked and been far less work. But then I wouldn't have been able to write this post, and all of you wouldn't understand, on a really small scale, the kind of guy I married.

Who am I kidding? I’m not sure I understand either. We’re opposites, that’s all I know. That, and he makes me look really, really lazy when he does something like this.

Kitchen update.

After painting the cabinets this summer, the whole kitchen slowly underwent a paint overhaul. It’s almost finished – it needs a new window and a new curtain above it, but overall, it’s done. I love how it turned out. I didn’t plan on using these photos for anything other than sharing them with my mom, so you’ll have to excuse Pierce in his pj’s from this morning, but I’m too excited about it all to not share. :) With a few antiques to decorate with and my new-to-me butcher block, it’s become a pretty useable space despite it’s shortcomings.

It’s so fun to say finished.

Christmas prep starts…

What started the day as a pair of ladies socks…

ends the day as a blue-eyed sock money for Mr. P.’s Christmas.

From the reactions I got from everyone, I may be making five more of these. No decent pair of socks will be safe…

*Just for the record, cutting those socks up made me cringe. They were brand new (of course) and significantly nicer than any in my drawer. My hesitation made me laugh – once I realized the ridiculousness of it all!