Photo Evidence

Gosh, it's been more than six months since I've posted here. Kind of disturbing that the most recent post has that lovely photo of me in labor almost 20 years ago, below.

Since this is the place for me to tell the family stories, I'm moving the update on the upstairs bathroom/bedroom painting project on over here. Get caught up here first, and then come back and see the pretty photos. And to learn more about my fine home repair skills, read this story.

All caught up now?

Now, you may enjoy the "after" photos. I seem to have no control over where they show up on the page. Sigh.

Eric Schantz is the artist who painted the giant irises here. He's been in the news a fair amount for his public paintings around Saginaw - painting boarded up buildings, Arson Watch signs, murals and more. Just Google his name with any of those key words. I just told him I wanted to eradicate the ugly wallpaper here - and to paint some flowers. I came home from work one day to find floor-to-ceiling irises. It's even more impressive in person.

Here's Eric's bathroom ceiling/wall masterpiece. See? You can't even tell were the giant crater was. The blue on the ceiling is the blue I used on the door. I shouldn't just say it's "blue." It had some really fun name, like Serendipity. In fact, the paint names were key selection criteria.

I replaced the old yellowed plastic switch covers with porcelain ones. It's the details ...

I have no idea what happened to the lighting here. The golden glow is lovely, isn't it? That's the original sink. The cabinet and little shelf were probably installed in the 70s when the last owner bought this house. There's a lot of evidence that they did a ton of work then - like new wiring, refinishing the woodwork downstairs, installing new windows upstairs, painting trim throughout the house SAGE GREEN ...

Current status of project:

Still need to put a doorknob on the little cabinet below the sink. This requires me going ALL THE WAY to the basement to get the drill. Or something. (Didn't John B. do a fabulous job on the little cabinet? If you need a carpenter, I highly recommend him. That man is a master craftsman - and does amazing technical drawings, which is how I first met him through my job. While he was helping me with various projects around the house I learned that he grew up in my neighborhood AND was one of my dad's students. I'm sure there's a story there ... in any event, dad would be so proud.)

Need help hanging the light fixtures I purchased. Yes, Virginia, I had all summer to do this. Lizz knew better than to point it out more than 27 times. They look fine in their boxes, I think. The time will come ... Oh, I might want to have someone help me re-hang the door. It won't shut all the way. (Refer to fine home repair skills and bathroom doors above.) I painted the door blue, by the way.

I think I need to hang the other porcelain towel hook somewhere.

There are a few other miscellaneous to-do's that aren't really worth mentioning. We'll just sweep them under the rug ... oh wait, a rug would be a nice touch, wouldn't it? I saw the cutest Pottery Barn monkey rug the other day that has just the right colors. There's a simple geometric design with a stylized happy monkey face in one corner ... not Curious George or anything like that.

Always looking for family stories to share here ... I picked Sharon's brain earlier this year and have to revisit those notes. It might be time to bring out her memories of the Cuban Missile Crisis.

My Favorite Gift

I always get a little weepy and nostalgic on March 16. At 7 p.m. or so, I'll remember the night I bent over my giant pregnant belly to tie my tennies before going for a walk. Then feeling like I just peed my pants. I remember thinking to myself: "Oh great. Just lost bladder control. Swell." And then: "Oh! This is it!" Because 19 years ago on this night I went into labor. And early on the morning of the 17th brought a beautiful baby girl into the world.

Last night I was e-chatting with a friend and mentioned that my daughter's birthday was on St. Patrick's Day and she told me I should buy myself a gift. Her thinking was I should get a gift in celebration of my anniversary of being a mom. I like this friend.

Oh - note the time in the picture above. I found this picture tonight around 10:40. Freaky, huh? Of course, it got me rummaging around in the photo box, so was not able to post this post immediately, but that would've been cool. I was in full-blown labor at that time 19 years ago. And do you think I can find any photos of the sweet little baby? Not tonight. But I'll keep looking. I think the really cute ones were pulled out for the graduation party display and I'm not sure where they are now.

So back to the gift thing. I went to a kitchen gadget-type party earlier this evening at another friend's house, and with the economy and all really had no business buying anything, yet figured I'd been given permission to give myself a little gift! I bought darling little prep bowls so I can pretend I'm famous and my sous-chefs chopped and pre-measured my herbs and veggies for me. And I bought pink Himalayan sea salt.

As much fun as that was, my favorite gift of all time is the one I've given to the world. I'm unabashedly proud of her, and am looking forward to spending the evening with her tomorrow in Ann Arbor.

The Big Boo-Boo

A couple of us have been joking at work about being butterflies ... alighting ever so gently on the surface of projects rather than digging in and questioning as we typically do. Of course, you do know about the potential impact of a butterfly flapping its wings.

Thinking of butterflies made me remember the butterfly costume mom made for me one year. I keep hoping I'll find it because it was really really nice.

Our Girl Scout troop always had a contest at Halloween for the best costume. One year, mom had this great idea. She would make me a butterfly and she would be the cocoon and I would fly out and make an entrance at the party.

Oh, my costume was fantastic – wings of lavender silk left from the mother-of-the-bride dress mom wore for Sharon's wedding, probably. She painted on colorful spots and I think there may have been a bit of glimmer and glitter. I wore a black leotard and tights, slipped my arms into the straps on the back of the fancy wings, then donned fancy deely-bopper antennae. Smashing.

But the cocoon just wasn’t turning out the way mom envisioned. She made an armature out of chicken wire and tried various approaches with brown netting. Finally, frustrated, she said “I’m just going to be the big boo-boo.” So she made a nifty sign saying just that and hung it around her neck.

I won the prize for the best costume and mom won the booby prize.