The Patience of Upholstering

About 9 months ago, I decided I was going to learn how to sew.  I convinced my always supportive husband that we needed to get a sewing machine, and excitedly signed up for Sewing 101 at Joann Fabric.  The class was fantastic.  If anyone is looking to get a beginner's lesson in anything from sewing to cake decorating to jewelry making, I highly recommend going there first.  I left the class feeling empowered and ready to be the best crafty housewife I could be.

Let me back this up a little bit, the reason I decided I wanted to learn how to sew was because I had ripped the upholstery off of my favorite reading chair without even buying it a drink first.  I started with great gusto, immediately reupholstering the ottoman by wrapping it up like a lovely Christmas present.  After looking at the construction and old upholstery, I realized that the only way to finish her off and make her look like a classy lady was to learn how to sew.

Before: Dirty on  the outside, but gloriously comfortable on the inside.

Flash forward to 5 months after she was ripped of her dignity and 4 months after my Sewing 101 class.  There she sat, naked on my back patio, untouched.  The patient husband had been quietly (and sometimes not so patiently) trying to get me to straighten my act up and bring her back to full lady status, but I had lost momentum and knew I would never get the chair done.  I did not take any pictures of her in her compromised state on the back patio.  No lady should have pictures on the internet looking like that.

Here is one of those moments where all I can say is "Wow, I really got a good one."  I went to visit my grandma up in the Great Northland for Fourth of July (everyone "aw" at what a great grandchild I am), and the patient husband took matters into his own hands.  When he leaves me alone for a week, I sit around and eat junk food.  When I leave for a weekend, he spends 3 straight days sewing and reupholstering my naked arm chair.  Hero cape, anyone?

After!  Isn't she pretty?

I love her.  I love my husband.  I'm spoiled.  He opted not to add a skirt because it would have been too difficult and he just wanted to get the chair done.  No complaints from me.

Chair   $0 (hand-me-down from my great grandma)
Fabric   $6/yard  (a steal at a shop that was closing)  We bought 9 yards, which gave us a lot of leftovers
Staple gun & staples    $20
Blood, sweat, and tears    Priceless

As usual, it isn't perfect (the patient husband may have sewn the zipper to the outside of the cushion case), but it was far less costly and a much better story than if we had paid someone hundreds of dollars.  She's a classy lady again!

I have been working on my sewing skills, and a post will follow to show off my pillow case making skills.

iPad Adventures

A friend and I were just discussing new music videos (something we do on a pretty regular basis) and we came across the new Jason Derulo song. I happen to seriously enjoy this song and turn it up much louder than necessary when I'm driving (just ask my husband). I hadn't seen the video until today. I posted it below for your viewing pleasure.




What I came to my blog to discuss today came up during our chat about this video. My friend asked me "Who brings their iPad to the club?" I thought it was an excellent query. This then got me thinking, if I were to own an iPad where else would I bring it besides out clubbin? Below I've listed a few of the options:

• Toilet -Who doesn't already surf the web while using the facilities on their smart phone or laptop?
• Opera - Quick translations!
  
• Alligator hunting - The iPad is crucial to the sport of gator hunting. You never know when you'll need to read up on gator facts or play the gators a soothing tune to trick them into coming to the surface. And, if it comes to it, bash the gators' heads in with the iPad as they swarm your boat. (Just think how happy the people from Lake Placid would be if they had iPads to battle the giant gator!)
  
• Operating heavy machinery - A woman needs her reading materials to help the time pass while operating the crane that's about to smash -- oh, wrong building...
• Walking on the moon - AT&T 3G coverage makes it out there, right?
  

Serpentine, Shadow! Serpentine!
I also got my degree at RISD for Drawing with a minor in Finger Painting, can't you tell?

First Kiss Fail

I'm sitting at my desk attempting to write up wall notes for the museum's upcoming exhibit on WWI, but am happily sidetracked by this link from Cute Overload in my RSS feed:

Awkward First Kiss

It brings back memories of my first kiss. I will admit to the world here that it was horribly awkward and I was the only one to blame. I had seen plenty of kissing scenes in movies, on tv, and witnessed a few pecks in real life, so one would think I would have been prepared for the big moment. Hardly. (Warning: Serious embarrassment ahead!)

He was an experienced, older boy, while I was new to the world of kissing. We were sitting on a couch in my parents' basement and, if memory serves, we had just finished watching Seven. Horror films are supposed to be great first date movies because they get your adrenaline going and the fear makes you want to be closer to someone. I don't recall the exact details that led to the kiss, but, boy, do I remember the kiss.

He leaned in, ready for the kill. I froze. Literally, froze. Mouth open. Eyes open. Breathing stopped.

We might as well have been twins.

After a solid attempt on his part to involve me in this event, he pulled away. There was no beautiful moment of looking into each other's eyes with a slow smile of satisfaction curling on our mouths. No, I just gasped for oxygen. Heaving gasps of desperation. Why he decided to date me for another couple of years is beyond me.

I haven't had any complaints since that horrendous first attempt. I'd like to think that I improved tremendously since that fated evening in my parents' basement. You'll have to ask one of the poor men with whom I had lip-locking sessions with. Or ask my husband, who will be beaten if anything other than "amazing" or "perfect" escape from his mouth.

List Love

I have created a list of things that have made me happy in the past few weeks. I thought I'd share not only this list, but my love of lists with the world.

• My husband - He keeps me sane in an insane world.
  
• My dog - Shadow is a cozy cuddler and a constant cache of cuteness. (I adore alliteration.)
  
• Rain storms -A sudden deluge of cleansing water and a glorious concert of light and sound.
• Skirts - Easy, breezy, free.
  
• Dog toys - There is nothing more adorable than the full body wiggles that ensue when a new toy is gifted to Shadow.
• Air conditioning - Too hot. Too humid.
• Museums - Being surrounded by history reminds me that someone came before me and someone will always follow.
  

Those who know me know I love lists and organizing. It's very therapeutic to have a better idea of what's in your life or missing from your life in that moment. You can remind yourself of those things that make you smile or release tension by finally admitting to what's bothering you. To do lists help you remember what needs to get done so you can keep things in working order and help you prevent your life from imploding on you. When in doubt, make a list!

Blackwater Babblings

My husband, our good friend, and I went on a canoe trip down the Blackwater River yesterday. I was excited to go and to bring our puppy, Shadow, as well. If you know me, you know I don't do well in nature (nature being anything more than 15 feet from a house or paved road), so my husband was pretty excited that I even suggested we go canoeing.

The Blackwater River National Park holds the only white sand river in the whole United States and it's beautiful. The water is too cold for alligators, which would have been a large deterrent in my willingness to go. The river was rarely too deep to stand in and you could easily see to the bottom. Our friend enjoyed repeatedly telling me that there were tree snakes and snapping turtles, but as long as I could see danger a-coming, I knew I'd be okay.

Oh, and, J.Lo let me borrow her rifle.

This was Shadow's first foray into the wide world of boating. She didn't quite grasp the idea of weight distribution or oars. As I perched on our cooler full of Gatorade, Shadow hopped back and forth in utter rapture of every partially submerged tree stump or plunge of the bright red oar. She had me convinced we were going to flip every 5 minutes, which required a shriek that I'm sure my canoe buddies truly appreciated. Shadow also found it completely unacceptable that we did not stop at every single beach so that she could explore. Her whines could be heard for miles. When we did stop, she decided it was no longer time to listen to us, and sprinted from one end of the beach to the other.

Photo evidence of Shadow corraling.

I'd say that everyone had a pretty good time. The only sunburnt part of my is my poor scalp (someone remind me to sunscreen my head next time I put it back in braids before sitting in direct sunlight for 4 hours). If you're ever in the area of Blackwater and you've got a day to spend floating down the river, I highly suggest it! There's a rental company that offers canoes, tubes, and plenty of other water sport items to maximize your river enjoyment.

Top of the Box, to ya!

Good morning to all!

As I was eating my cereal this morning, I had a delightful moment of happiness. This moment was the result of having perfectly shaped, uncrumbed squares of cereal. It seems so simple and trivial, but it's a great way to start out the day. I felt like I was in a Life cereal commercial with picture perfect squares. All I needed was the milk to crash gloriously into the pile of deliciousness. Mikey would have been proud.

When you wake up and, in a sleepy haze, don't notice the lightness of the box as you pour it and your bowl of cereal is simply a mound of crumbs and sugar bits,your day has started off at a 3 rather than an 8. Maybe my dislike of the bottom half of the box is a manifestation of my (self-diagnosed) OCD. It's still technically the same thing as the top half, it's just so...messy. They might as well be tricking me into eating mulch (right). Where have my perfect little squares gone? They couldn't possibly be composed of this much sugar, could they?

Well, in a few days I will meet the bottom of the box, once again. I cannot toss the remnants in the trash without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt for "the starving children in countries" as a high school friend once put it. (I'm sure she has no recollection of this statement, but I sure do) Maybe I can trick my unsuspecting husband into finishing off the crumbles.