Hall of Mirrors

Last week I had to completely reformat my hard drive. Thanks, Windows 8.1! While I messed around with tech support looking for a way to back up my data before wiping the drive, There was no way to blog, or surf, or anything. I missed you, Gentle Readers! I'll spare you the gory details, but in the end, I prevailed, and all my work is safe once again. Between attempts at data retrieval, I did non-digital things, in an effort not to lose the remainder of my mind.

Ever notice how one project begets another? One part of the Great Laundry Room Adventure I didn't tell you about was Lindsay's book case. Perched in the corner return of our staircase, it had to be completely emptied and moved in order to get washers and dryers in and out. And of course, the only place to stack her book collection was my bedroom floor. Don't ask. 

Once I was done with the laundry room, it was time to reclaim my bedroom floor. Lindsay and her dad bravely sorted and purged her collection; a job which had not been done since around 2006. I think going through the books made Lindsay realize that she's not a little girl anymore. She told me she'd outgrown the old book case, with its white paint (now dented and peeling) and scalloped trim.  For the girl who has trouble parting with so much as a gum wrapper, the idea of jettisoning the old thing was pretty radical. I went along with her, mostly because I agreed that the case, itself, was no longer working. Together we chose and installed some nice new wall-mounted shelving, which fits the space much better, and holds even more books:

I showed Lindsay how to choose straight boards, cut them to size, sand and varnish them. Then we learned all about stud-finding, how much books weigh per linear foot, wall anchors, and how to use a power drill. And then rehearsals for the Spring play kicked into high gear, and I was on my own to shelve the collection. After which, I realized we were going to need book ends. Five of them. With the budget well and truly blown between the laundry room and the new shelves, I had to think fast. Here's what I came up with:

Our very own hall of mirrors! Plain picture frames and metal brackets I found at the craft store (regular metal bookends would work fine too - I just couldn't find any) totaled $15. I took the frames apart and removed the back easels. Then retrieved the leftover mirror paint from the vintage window project. Man, this stuff is awesome.

First I sprayed vinegar on the glass panes, then three coats of mirror paint.

Then I sprayed black over the mirror paint.

Once everything was dry, I reassembled the frames and glued the metal brackets to the backs of the frames.

Poof! $3 bookends. I like the way they add a little sparkle to the ends of the shelves.

And with that project out of the way (and my bedroom floor finally cleared of books), I pronounced the Laundry Room Adventure officially concluded. 

What are your favorite bookend ideas?

Contest! Sheep! Book! Yarn!

Would you like to make some sheep? Who wouldn't!

The fine people at Cascade Yarns have teamed up with my publisher to offer this fabulous prize: A copy of Fun and Fantastical Slippers to Knit, and all the yarn you need to make your very own "Sheepish" felted slippers! CLICK HERE to enter the contest!

And may the Sheepy-est win!

Partners

It has come to my attention that last week's post about our laundry adventure could be construed as "somewhat hostile" in tone, toward my husband. Specifically, the dogs think I was unfair to him in my retelling of the story, and because I lack any other editing staff, I have to honor their opinion. Geez;  you threaten one spouse's life and all hell breaks loose around here.

By way of reparation, I'd like to list some of Phillip's fine qualities. Also, this way, if he suddenly goes missing, maybe I'll seem less guilty.

Fine Quality #1:   The Way He Humors Me

Generally speaking, Phillip is so laid-back that we sometimes have to check for a pulse. Which is a really useful foil for someone like me (for those who haven't personally met me, I routinely reach 11 on the Spaz-O-Meter). So in many cases where other partners would express annoyance ("OW! I sat on another knitting needle!") or even dismay ("No, you may NOT drag me to another sheep and wool festival!"), Phillip is hardly bothered at all. So easy-going is he, that when I walked away from a highly-paid position in Information Technology to become a starving string artist, his response was: "Cool, Baby. We'll make it work".

I could never do the work I love without his support, so if you think I'm doing a good job, you should really thank him. If you've ever wondered who looks after my kids while I go galavanting off to play with the knitters, it's Phillip. And if you think it might be a challenge to live with someone like me, who has an appalling excess of creative energy, you're right: Just ask Phillip.

Fine Quality #2:  The Sort of Dad He Is

Without question, Phillip Huff is the most engaged, involved, and overall present father I have ever known. There is not so much as a hangnail that escapes his attention, when it comes to his children. When the report is due tommorrow, when the performance is next Wednesday, when the permission slip has to be signed, it's Phillip who remembers and follows through. He's there to drive them to the birthday party (and buy the present beforehand). He's the one who takes them to the big game/rock concert/scout campout. And he's also the one who says "Yes! You should totally invite all your friends over to watch movies this weekend!"  and "Yes! I'd love to chaperone the field trip!" Things my children are learning from him that I could never teach include:

1.  How to relax

2.  How to survive and even enjoy the adolescent social landscape

3.  Math

Fine Quality #3:  He's Gentle and Loving

As a person who moves through life with all the thoughtfulness and subtlety of a stump grinder, I know that God put Phillip in my live to remind me that it's okay to embrace your softer side. He's really good at hugging people (and critters) who don't know they need it yet. He's kind to teenagers who don't deserve it. He's a bottomless barrel of forgiveness and forgetfulness for those who slight him. My husband doesn't need big trucks or power tools to compensate for anything; he's totally secure in his masculinity. So much so that his gentle nature is always available for those of us who need a soft place to land.

Those are just a few of the nice things I wanted to say about my husband of 18 years, in case any of you were afraid I might really wish him ill.

He's just not allowed in the laundry room anymore.