Mabel's House

Plotting Thanksgiving, Part II

2009-11-11T05:46:00.000-08:00

Don't you wish you could spend Thanksgiving in this little aqua bed and breakfast? With golden leaves rustled outside your window?

Yep sounds good to me.
But then again, I'm pretty stoked about Thanksgiving at my house. Especially since Rebecca has her own digs here in town and we can use her kitchen too.

On my recent trip to Mountain View, my family and I made the rounds to the antique stores on the court square. If you live within driving distance, I highly recommend a Saturday shopping excursion.

Anyway, while shopping I found this little plate for $1. It's a Paden Pine Cone patterned dinnerware, and it is noootttttt cheap. But I'm thinking I'll be able to find something comparable at a flea market, maybe dishes with wheat patterns instead? This holiday stuff us fun, isn't it?

Seasonal Whiplash

2009-11-10T05:35:00.000-08:00

At Home Arkansas is my new best friend. In addition to getting the opportunity to write an article about our bedroom, they asked me to do a holiday guest post on their blog. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a smidge bit of stage fright. It's one thing to show up here and write about PMS and my husband's sleepwalking/underwear-grabbing tendencies. But as I contemplated submitting material for an actual, legitimate, classy publication, I realized I'd have to scale back my original blog post title: Holiday Etiquette: Don't Pick Your Boogers At the Table.

So as I hauled my decorations out a month early, yellow leaves fluttering past the window, it was an odd feeling. Matt was thoroughly confused and a little panicked as he walked into the room and was blinded by the glare of white twinkle lights.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?" he yelped, sidestepping a box marked "Santa, Pine-Cones, Tacky Streamers We'll Never Use."

"Relax," I muttered, "I'm taking pictures for a guest blog post."

"Are you seriously going to leave all this up until Christmas?"

I shrugged sulkily, "Wal-Mart put up their Christmas stuff after Halloween."

"LIZ, it's November 8th."

I shrugged again, passive-aggressively adjusting some ornaments and hoping he'd go away.
No such luck.

"I'll even help you put it back in the attic."

"Fine," I snapped, suddenly depressed at the thought of losing all the red, pink and aqua twinkleyness around me.

But he was right. I mean, we're having Thanksgiving at our house this year. I don't want to give my family seasonal whip-lash and make them think they've been fast-forwarded through time and space to the end of December. And... I'm pretty sure the neighbors would laugh/point.
So, it was a fun tiny little snippet of Christmas, taking pictures, writing the post. But I'm back to reality. I'm not getting ahead of the season anymore, and looking forward to Thanksgiving. Nothing but pine cones and turkeys from here on out.

I'll let you know when the my guest post runs, and for a preview of all the guest bloggers lined up, check it out here. Thanks again to Diane & Paulette. You ladies have made the past few weeks very, very interesting and fun.

Favorite Links: House Inspiration

2009-11-09T05:54:00.000-08:00

Since I've been the recipient of so much unmerited favor (AKA kindly blog features), I thought it was high time I returned the favor and featured a few of my favorite go-to gals for house inspiration. Here goes.

A Soft Place to Land

Kimba can wield a spray paint can faster than you can blink (like these glass bottles, who'd have thought?). What I love most about her blog is the down to earth, 'you can actually afford to do these' projects. Of course, she's like a super blogger, and everyone knows about her. But in case you haven't heard, hop over. And I'll see you again in a month.

Brooklyn Limestone

I love Mrs. Limestone. She's classy, thrifty, and did I mention classy? I can never aspire to living in such a fabulous abode, but I do get to live vicariously through her super cool blog. And anyone, I repeat, ANYONE who has a turquoise home office is ok in my book.

Domestic PDX

Here's a little blog I stumbled onto while surfing the net. There are lots of reasons to love this house.
1. It's in Portland, the most beautiful city ever.
2. It's a bungalow. Enough said.
3. She has pink formica counter tops in her kitchen. Sigh.

Hennessey House

I met Sarah while surfing the net very recently. Here's a gal who is not afraid of painting furniture. She's fun.

Nie Nie Dialogues

I know what you're saying. "Liz, Stephanie's blog is not about decorating." And it's not. But, every now and then she gives us a tiny peak at where she lives and I always love it. Stephanie is such an amazing lady, and it only makes sense that her living space would be a tiny reflection of her fantastic spirit.

Lola B

There are NOT words for this blog. Just go check it out. Trust me.

Retro Renovation

This was one of my very first blog haunts. Perfect for anyone living in a ranch home. After spending an hour on this blog, you'll learn to love your vintage pink bathroom.

Restyled Home

It's just not a party without Linda. She was, perhaps, my very first blog friend and is still my favorite. She's so very talented, kind and generous.

The Cottage Nest

This is another blog I've been following for a long time. This is not Jen's house (which is also adorable), but a picture of a place she simply refers to as "The Village." She and her family will be moving there shortly and I just can't wait to see their future house!

Whatever

Meg is a fabulous decorator, mom of many, and all around crafty lady. Not to mention the fact that her home reminds of the house on Meet Me In St. Louis.

V & Company

Last but not least, we have V & Company. Vanessa is another fabulous mom, and a great quilter/crafter to boot. And... her house is as cute as a bug. How adorable is this painted dresser she uses in her kitchen?

Ask Liz: Collecting Vintage Pottery and Glass (AKA: What The Heck Is That)

2009-11-06T05:08:00.000-08:00

The number one question I get asked is a version of this:

"What is that vase/planter/bowl/pitcher and where did you find it?"

And I keep promising people I'll do one comprehensive post and cover all these questions in one place. So let's light this candle.

First, let's tackle the "where did you find it" question. All of my glassware and pottery comes from antique malls, flea markets, and sometimes ebay. These are not things you can find in Target or Wal-Mart or Pottery Barn. BUT those businesses could learn a big fat marketing lesson from Anthropologie and start carrying vintage-style products.

There are a few major brands that you'll keep running into: Hull, USA, McCoy, Heager, Shawnee, Roseville, Homer Laughlin, to name a few. And FYI, I've never been able to afford Roseville.

1. Planters

There are a billion jillion kinds of vintage planters, like these bear cubs.

And like this rectangle planter.

Or these deer planters. I have more planters than anything else, namely because they are so easy to find and affordable. I never pay more than $10 (unless it's a McCoy, but we'll get to that later). The planters I come home with are usually unmarked, chipped, and cheap. You can find them in abundance in any flea market.

What I love most is their versatility. You can use them for plants, or a pencil holder on your office desk. You can prop pictures in them, store extra change, stamps, and paperclips. For example, I use a larger one to hold my dish washing soap and scrubber beside the sink. There are endless possibilities for these little guys.

2. Pyrex

Let me start out by saying, I'm not a super collector of Pyrex. I have a few bowls, mostly courtesy of a generous friend who bought them at an estate sale. But these nesting bowls, in addition to hundreds of colors and shapes of baking ware, are a huge collectible. You used to be able to purchase these for literally cents at flea markets and estate sales. But these days prices are skyrocketing, so be prepared to spend at minimum $10 or $15 per bowl.

3. Fiestaware

The biggest misconception people who read my blog have is that I have a giant set of vintage Fiestaware. But it's not vintage, it's new and we got it for our wedding registry. The color is "persimmon" and it's currently still be being made. You can find it at any Dillards or wedding registry store.

There is a great wide world of vintage Fiestaware, and ladies, it ain't cheap. But the colors you can find are fabulous, especially the color glazes used in the late 30's and 40's. Oh yeah, and the original orange plates were radioactive, just FYI.

4. McCoy

Here are a few of my McCoy finds. From left to right:

a. Planters. You can find McCoy planters in wide abundance, in a range of prices. But word to the wise, you won't snatch one up for $2 or $3 dollars. They usually hover around $20 to $60. You can even find frogs, alligators, pelicans, and birds. But this is an example of one of my favorites.

b. Jardinières. These are larger than regular planters, made for larger arrangements of flowers or plants. This is hands down my favorite type of McCoy to collect, but frankly, I rarely find them and only have two right now. This particular piece is part of the 'rustic line' from the 40's. I adore the aqua colors mixed with brown and the pine cone pattern (I'm thinking this will have to be part of the table scape on Thanksgiving). Again, these are not cheap, usually around $60 to $100. BUT I scored this one for $23 on ebay. There are exceptions to every rule.

c. Vases. This vase is fairly common. There are lots and lots of different McCoy vase types. They are usually within the same price rage as the jardinières. Get ready to be obsessed.

5. Depression Glass

I'm not an expert on this, but I inherited this hobnail pink bowl from my great-grandmother. It's part of the Miss America line and I love it. If the house catches on fire, I'm grabbing my mother's paintings, this bowl and Mabel. Well, OF COURSE Matt too.

Depression Glass comes in mostly green and pink, various shades, various patterns. You can find them easily on ebay or a nice antique store.

6. Homer Laughlin Orange Tree Bowls

These are sometimes referred to as Apple Tree bowls. Their elongated tree patterns mimic art pottery and they were manufactured in the 30's. Sometimes you can find them in white and orange. There are not words to express my love for these bowls. There is also not enough money in my bank account to afford a complete nesting set of them, which would run anywhere from $200 to $300. They are very rarely found in an antique store or estate sale. Your best bet is hunting on ebay.

Lastly, always remember to look at the bottom of the planter/vase/bowl. Usually, you'll always find the maker's mark, in this case a HLco for Homer Laughlin Company. It's a really good starting place to determine the worth and history of a piece. So the next time you find a small turquiose planter and it's tagged $30, don't drop it because the price burned your hand. Flip it over. If you see McCoy on the bottom, you'll understand the price.

There are lots of categories and brands I haven't gone into; Milk Glass, Carnival Glass, and Anchor Hocking to name a few. For instance, did you know that while white milk glass is very common, they also manufactured aqua and pink as well? Or that carnival glass comes in greenish/black, purplish/gray, and peachy/pink tones? It's an endless world. A world that I could easily lose myself, and my mortgage payment.

I hope this little tour answers most of your questions about the where's and why's of my kitchen shelves. Now go forth and shop. And good luck balancing your check book.

Photo Shoot, Clean Baseboards

2009-11-05T05:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we're confronted with situations that force us to clean our homes. And when I say clean, I mean really clean, NOT sweep the dust off the top of the tv with your hand or shove a stack of dirty clothes into the corner of the closet. I'm talking 'pass your grandmother's inspection' clean.

And that's where I found myself this week. Why?

Because our bedroom is going to be featured in At Home Arkansas ! And since the camera doesn't lie, I've been filling nail homes and sweeping dust bunnies with the fury of 50 Merry Maids. But it was so worth it.

This is Nancy Nolan, a fabulous photographer who officially won my heart when I discovered she loves painted wood trim as much as I do. It was a very detailed conversation, one that would make most wood-grain-purists turn gray and reach for the trash can. I love meeting kindred spirits.

Basically, I just hung around and soaked it all in while these super human people positioned and repositioned and arranged flowers and pillow shams with the patience and know-how of saints.

I'll be sure and let you know when the article comes out (it may be online as well), but I probably wont have to bother since you'll likely meet my mother on the streets as she passes out issues to total strangers and says, "THIS is my daughter's bedroom." Oye Vey.

All in all, this was by far the highlight of my year. Thanks so much Diane, Paulette, Nancy and Rett for a wonderful day!

Energy Smoothie, I'm Gonna Need It

2009-11-03T07:27:00.000-08:00

Matt's been making me the best smoothies.
He says they'll give me energy.
I think they taste like dessert.
It's a win/win situation.

I've got a lot on my plate right now. A big furniture makeover project for my sister is looming, I'm mulling over a guest-room redo that will cause Poor Matt do roll his eyes and groan, AND an actual real-deal photographer is coming to my house tomorrow (more on that later). So to summarize: I need my energy.

I also need energy to ignore my counter tops/back splash that I don't love. But now is not the time.

I know.... I should post the smoothie recipe for this. But the fact is, Matt is above directions. He flies by the seat of his pants. So here are the ingredients, good luck.

Blueberries (fresh or frozen)
Orange Juice
Soy Milk
Vanilla Yogurt
Honey

So I'm off today. Running like crazy, cleaning the baseboards, eyeing paint samples. It feels good to be 'this' kind of busy.

Oh, and PS, our blender started leaking.

I said, "Hey, I'll get you one for Christmas."

To which Matt responded, "NO... I'll buy YOU one for Christmas."

Touché Matt, touché.

For The Love of Woodlawn Charm

2009-11-03T05:29:00.000-08:00

Molly was kind enough to send me pics of her newly painted china cabinet. Let's all say it together, "Sigggghhhhhh." She wasn't originally in love with it's dark rustic wood tones, so she decided to paint it using Valspar Woodlawn Charm, one of my favorite colors ever.

Funnily enough, she said it looked awful before it dried, but by the next morning she loved it. It's nice to know my plan of world domination, um, I mean, painted furniture is spreading. Thanks for sharing Molly!

Sleepy Dog, Quiet Morning

2009-11-02T05:43:00.000-08:00

I love mornings.

The house is quiet, the sunlight peeks in the windows and Mabel snoozes on the couch.

I'm a little jealous of course. I wish I could sleep like this.

Happy Halloween

2009-10-31T05:39:00.000-07:00

From our house to yours...

Matt and Mabel and I wish you a very...

Happy Halloween!

Dear Rain

2009-10-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Rain,
This is really starting to get unfunny.
As much as I said I wanted to wear my rain coat, I'm good. You can stop now.

The streets are flooding. But more importantly, there was a waterfall on the inside of our chimney last night. Down the wall, onto the floor.

And as much as I enjoy falling asleep to the sound of flowing water, I really prefer creeks and streams as opposed to rushing water from under our crown molding. Plus, my car is very low and small, and it really cant forge the flooded streets.

And despite my normally cheery demeanor (Matt... stop laughing), I really am on the verge of staking out the personal homes of our roofing company employees until they give us a date that our roof will be replaced.

So please, rain, give us a break. Ease off a bit so I can enjoy the Halloween weekend. But more importantly, so Matt and I never have another night of running around in our pajamas as we yell and try to sop up the lake forming in our den.

Plus, the skin on my fingers is starting to prune. No rain coat is worth this.

Sincerely,

Liz

Waterlogged Blogger

* Just heard from the roofers. We have a date!

An Ozark Halloween Tale of Darkness, a Woodpile, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer

2009-10-30T05:38:00.000-07:00

Let's take a journey together, shall we? Consider me your ghost of Halloween past. Let's venture back to October 1993. It was a time before Twilight, before Edward and Bella, Sookie Stackhouse, and the Vampire Dairies. It was the time of... Buffy. Let me explain.

It was the week of Halloween, the leaves fluttering to the forest floor around our house in a picturesque mountain setting. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was my Boyz II Men tape, Doc Martins, and an ever increasing amount of over sized plaid shirts. I also cared about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I cared about this movie a lot. It was THE movie. And I had yet to see it, which was a source of great panic for me since all the girls at school modeled themselves after Kristy Swanson. And how could I begin to mimic her red lip stick and ballerina prom skirt if I hadn’t seen the movie?

After much pleading, mom swung by the video store and picked up a copy just for me. I was giddy. My little sister Rebecca was also giddy because her entire existence centered on copying my every move. The suburban creaked and rattled home, the Ozark Mountains surrounded in cold darkness as I clutched our rented video cassette in my hot little hand.

Our father was less than enthused about the prospect of spending the night watching a movie about a bleached blond teenager and floating vampires in a high school gym. As the dad of three daughters, Reggie is perhaps the most tolerant man on earth. But even he had his limits, and watching Kristy Swanson and Luke Perry stab vamps with stakes and make out was just a footstep over his threshold of tolerance.

"No," he stated resolutely when we got home, "I don’t want to watch that. Let's watch Lonesome Dove instead." My father is a tried and true Lonesome Dove fan. He can quote it. He could even re-enact it if the mood struck him correctly.

"But DADDYYYYYY," I yelled.

"Yeah.... Dadddyyyyyyy...." piped in Rebecca, my ever present parrot.

My father, never one to enjoy being the bad guy, shifted tactics. "Fine. If you and Becca will both run to the wood pile and back, alone, no flashlight, we'll watch Buffy the School Bimbo Slayer, or whatever it's called."

It was a fantastic move. A real life Check Mate. It belonged in the Genius Parenting Hall of Fame. Instead of crushing my dreams of teen moviedom outright, he decided to present me with a choice-based question that would inevitably lead to my kicking a rock and saying, "Never mind, we don’t have to watch it."

The woodpile was a short walk from the house, through the woods, in the dark. You must understand something about rural living. Growing up in the Ozark Mountains, you are versed in certain facts suburban dwellers live entire lives ignorant of. One: there really are such things as bears and bob cats and mountain lions. And two: All of these creatures, at various times, had ambled past the woodpile and into our yard. This was a perceived fear, as I look back, since my dad was a few yards away with his freakishly good night vision and a fire arm. Sorry to my gun-protesting readers... in the world of rural, guns are a fact of life.

But that wasn’t what scared me most. What scared me the most was zombies. They're the most terrifying combination of insane people and the quick, cat-like dead. To this day I watch movies about zombies and try to nail down my exact plan of survival. But that's another story for another time.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I muttered.

Daddy frowned and glanced across the room at Mom for help, who was amused, watching the situation from afar.

"No, you both have to do it," Dad bargained, putting all his eggs in one basket, that basket being a kindergartner who should have balked at the prospect of an unescorted trip through the woods, in the dark, a few days before Halloween.

Rebecca shifted from one short leg to the other, realizing that her street cred was on the line. If she punked out, I would never let her in my room to play with lipstick or listen to the Cranberries. But if she did do it, she suspected there was the distinct prospect she might not make it back alive.

"Me too. I’ll to it too,” her head bobbed up and down as her lower lip trembled.

She was scared of bears. She was more scared of being a dork in the eyes of her older sister.

Dad eyed us, back and forth, perplexed and backed into a corner. He didnt want to watch Buffy, and he really didnt want us to run to the woodpile. He just wanted peace and the soothing soundtrack of Lonesome Dove playing in the background.

“Fine. Let's go."

We donned our coats and boots, tromping onto the front porch. In summer the forest that surrounds our home is green and beautiful. But in the fall, especially by late October, it’s spooky with dark branches jagged across the moonlit sky like skeleton fingers.

Dad frowned, never having intended for the ordeal to go this far, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Rebecca and I, steeped in Buffy mania, nodded.

"Ok, Rebecca can go first."

We lost sight of Rebecca as she exited the small pool of light from the front porch, the crunch crunch of her boots in the gravel growing faint. I concentrated on her steps until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I also tried desperately to stop thinking about Dawn of the Dead.

And then, there was a shriek that cut through the silent night air, “I DID IT I DID IT.”

Rebecca was screaming victory from the wood pile, her footsteps coming closer, giving evidence of great speed. And as she drew closer to the pool of light around the porch, I could see her, white face upturned in the darkness, tears and snot streaming from her nose in the cold air, terror and pride written all over her little face.

“I DID IT,” she yelled/cried again, grabbing Daddy around the leg.

At this point, Daddy looked like he might cry. His plan of mental reasoning had backfired, and the result was two terrified daughters and a night of teen vampire cinema. It was not going well. Looking back, I feel great sympathy for him.

It was my turn. I bolted off the stone steps and sprinted into the darkness. My feet pounded and skidded on the gravel road, the wind streaking through my hair. The forest around me was completely silent, except for the sound of my breathing. The light from the front porch faded and I was completely engulfed in darkness.

Just me, falling leaves, the moon, and the zombies.

But nothing happened. Nothing sprung from the dark woods to bite me and infect me with zombie-itus. No bears roared. No bob-cats pounced. And as I ran back to the house, victorious over my fears as Rebecca clapped her tiny seven year old hands in encouragement for me, I realized I would finally get to watch Buffy.

I realized it would be a good night after all. I realized my poor father, surrounded by women and estrogen, was (and is) deserving of a house size trophy. And I also realized my little sister was one brave little sucker.

So we settled in with popcorn to watch the dramatics of Buffy and Luke Perry. My poor father even watched it with us. It was one of the best Halloweens I can remember.

And Yet Another Lamp Makeover

2009-10-29T05:16:00.000-07:00

* Check out Kimba's Do It Yourself Party Going on Now!

Rebecca is getting ready to move out. She's happy. I'm happy. But it's still a little sad. An end of an era, so to speak. It's been an unexpected joy to live with my baby sister as an adult.

In preparation, we're trying to wrap up the billion flea market projects planned for her new digs. Namely this huge lamp, which we've nicknamed Big Bird.

Like idiots we did NOT take a before picture. But trust me, it was pretty ugly. Amber glass, brass roses and trim, yellowed shiny lamp shade.

So we spray painted it yellow (it lacks an extra coat just for good measure) and recovered the shade with white denim and some ribbon for trim.

This is by far the most frustrating part of spray painting. It's what happens when you get too over-zealous and really glob on the paint. It runs and drips. Luckily, Rebecca is easy going and shrugged, saying, "Eh, I'll just turn that part to the wall."

So wish her luck. She's spreading her wings and entering a new phase of life. I wish I could send her on her way with lots of money and a fully furnished apartment.

But instead, she'll have to settle for a hug and a Big Bird lamp.

Rainy Drive

2009-10-28T05:12:00.000-07:00

It's wet and slushy downtown. The puddles are big, the air is cold. But here in my car, decked in sturdy rain boots and a hat, I'm warm.

And very thankful.

Plotting Thanksgiving, Already

2009-10-27T05:14:00.000-07:00

We have a darkened and rainy sky, again. To divert myself from thinking about our leaky roof and the roofing company that keeps postponing the job, I've been cleaning. I busted out the sponges and cleaning spray and whipped the kitchen into shape (as in shape as my kitchen can be, that is).

And as I grabbed our designated 'onion bowl' from the shelves and took it onto the front porch to clean it out, I did what any sane and rational woman would do. I took a picture of it.

There is a method to my madness, sort of.

This year, for the very first time in eight years of marriage, we'll be having a holiday here at Mabel's House. My mom has benevolently agreed to let me host Thanksgiving this year.

So the point to my onion bowl picture taking is that I'm looking for some Thanksgiving table inspiration. And as I dusted the onion skins out, I couldn't help but admire how pretty they were against the aqua of the bowl. I think I've found my color inspiration for the table setting.

Because isn't everything prettier against an aqua backdrop? I hope so, since that's the emerging theme for our entire house.

So that's what I'm doing. Cleaning, taking pictures on our rainy front porch like a crazy woman, and trying my best not to call the roofers for a third day in a row.

I'll just keep distracting myself with dreams of an aqua and burlap Thanksgiving table. With pine cones. Can't forget the pine cones. I'm off to peruse flickr for some more ideas. AND... don't forget to head over to Hooked On Houses Fall House Tour Party.

Sister Photo Session: Where's My Hand Sanitizer?

2009-10-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

This weekend my sisters and I went home. And whenever we go home for the weekend, we go to church. And whenever we go to church, my mother breaks out the camera for a photo session because everyone is dressed up.

These things never go well.

In this particular instance, our sister Rachel (in the middle), had a cold. Here she is mid-sneeze... where the entire photo session went downhill.

And here she is sneezing. And here I am trying to hold my breath. It's flu season you know. You can never be too careful.

But instead of quarantining herself, Rachel decided to spread the love. Or in this case, her cold.

Which did not go over well with Rebecca, who threatened to pinch Rachel's face.

And Rachel responded by attempting to bite Rebecca's fingers.

At this point, for some odd reason, we all starting making finger puppets in the sunlight, and mom yelled something about us never being too old to spank as she turned off her camera and stomped inside.

And because I just KNOW you've all been craving a little folk music to go with your morning coffee... here's a clip from the Mountain View court square on Saturday.

How To Recover A Vintage Lampshade Without Burning Your Fingerprints Off and Yelling So Loudly The Dog Hides Under The Dining Room Table

2009-10-23T05:18:00.000-07:00

This is my how-to guide to recovering vintage lampshades. First, let me state the obvious: I am not a pro at this. In fact, I’ve had many disasters involving me and a lampshade that ended up looking like Rocky’s punching bag. And just for the record, I HAVE burned my fingerprints and Mabel is still under the dining room table.

But hopefully, this will help you avoid some of my pitfalls.

If you’re like me, you love the shape of vintage lamps. There is nothing more fun than taking an old giant 70’s lamp of amber glass, shaped like a genie lantern, and spray painting it daisy yellow. Whoops, I think I just let my current project out of the bag early.

But what I don’t love is the shabby fabric usually accompanying the shades. It’s usually worn, and weird and glossy. More shabby than chic. So that’s where my recovering ventures began.

Step Number One: Examine your shade. If the stars align and heaven shines down on you, you will discover you possess a barrel shade like these. They are the easiest to recover. If not, if your shade is sloped and not completely round, your quest will be harder.

Step Two: Pick your fabric. I really liked using burlap this time b/c it was stretchable and adjustable mid-process. I also really like a sturdy white denim.

Step Three: Cut your fabric to fit the shade. If you possess a sloped shade, here is where the hair pulling begins. There is no easy answer for this that I’ve found. Basically if involves a lot of rolling around on the ground and kicking. One trick I have learned: use painters tape to secure the fabric to your shade when measuring/cutting.

Step Four: Gluing everything down. Some people are super talented, measuring and hemming each side and extend the fabric over the edges and into the lampshade (see this example here). There is an upside to this, which is you don’t have to worry about ribbon trim. But I’m not talented enough to pull it off. Once I did this and when I turned on the light the inside of the shade illuminated the jagged fabric hot-glued on the inside of the shade, which had valleys and peaks like the Ozark Mountains. So I cut my fabric exactly at the edges of the shade, if not a hair shorter (this will all be covered with the ribbon trim).

Some people prefer to use spray glue. I can see the advantages to this. Better adhesion, smoother surfaces. But I had an unfortunate experience with spray adhesive once. I sucked some of it up my nostrils mid-spray and spent the next week thinking pine sol smelled like banana Laffy Taffy. Not to mention the fact that I was CONVINCED my nose hairs would forever be glued together. So, I stick with hot glue. I always start with the top of the shade, working my way around, hot gluing the top down.

Once you have the top secured, start gluing the fabric to the bottom of the shade. This way, you can pull it smooth from the top, creating a smooth surface. Work your way all the way around, and secure the seam that runs from the top to the bottom of the shade. I don’t get too worried about how this looks b/c it always faces the wall. But if you want it to look more polished, fold it under before gluing to hide the jagged edge. REMEMBER to always line up the seam of your fabric with the actual seam of the lampshade. OR ELSE… when the light comes on, you’ll find you have TWO seams illuminated in your newly recovered shade. This has happened to me. Recently. But I don’t want to talk about it.

Step Five: Trim. I use ribbon to trim the top and bottom b/c it hides the jagged edges and, in my opinion, it’s like jewelry for your lampshade. Just a little something extra. Here is where you can go a little crazy, matching the ribbon to coordinating colors, layering different width ribbons on top of each other. It’s the best part of the project in my opinion.

Last, but not least, be cautious with older wiring. Vintage lamps are fun, vintage wiring can be sketchy. Remember to always examine the cords, make sure they’re not crumpled or frayed, and when at all possible, rewire them!

Now go forth and recover. I know, I know. How do you avoid burning your fingerprints? Yeah, I fibbed. You really can’t avoid that. It’s just gonna happen. Sorry.

Design Sponge, Acorns Gone Wrong

2009-10-22T11:35:00.001-07:00

My little lamp makeover was featured on Design Sponge today.

Some people love Elvis.

Some people collect Hello Kitty memorabilia.

Others obsess about Nascar and fast cars.

I, on the other hand, am a Design Sponge nut. AND on the same day that Kim featured Mabel's House. As Meme says, "When it rains it pours." In other news: Remember the acorns?

One word: WORMS.

Ahhh... you ladies tried to warn me. Ew.

But I'm not telling Pottery Barn.

I still say store-bought fake acorns are a crock.

Storing Up For Winter

2009-10-22T05:11:00.000-07:00

* BIG thanks to Kim for featuring me on Today's Creative Blog!

Much like the fat squirrels in our backyard, Mabel is following their example. She's cleaning out her bowl, stalking us at the table, and as seen in this picture, begging. In short... she's doing A LOT of eating.

I don't have the heart to tell her that unlike the squirrels, she doesn't really need the extra fat store. She's good.

Skeletor

2009-10-21T05:06:00.000-07:00

Several people emailed me yesterday and said, "Um... where's the Martha Stewart skeleton? Let's see him!" And so, I present to you... Skeletor.

I'm really quite fond of Skeletor.

Mabel, on the other hand, HATES him.

Apartment Hunting: The Good, The Bad, The Scary

2009-10-20T05:19:00.000-07:00

In addition to my feeble attempts to STOP buying everything from the Martha Stewart Halloween line at Michael's (like this super fun paper skeleton), I've been helping my sister find an apartment.

And ladies, let me tell you, at times our apartment quest has been pretty darn scary. We've seen plain. We've seen expensive. We've seen, well, the slums. Take this place for instance. It could be cute, emphasis on cute, if it hadn't been for the bars on all the windows and the cracked out neighbor slumped in the hallway smoking a cigarette. I think the word the landlord used was 'potential'... which I translated to, "slaughtered in your sleep."

The kitchen needed painting and about three bottles of bleach, which is fine, except I kept sniffing the air and yelling, "Do you smell gas?"

The bathroom again, needed a gallon of paint and some bleach, not to mention duck tape to secure the pipes that clanked like the ghost of Bob Marley (b/c the clanking reminded me of the beat from Stir It Up, not to mention the, ahem, herbal aroma drifting down from the second floor).

But what finally cinched it with me was the sight of this toilet. Shuddersville right here. I just started shaking, Rebecca tried to stifle her dry heaves and we ran, our skirts flapping and fluttering behind us in disdain.

In short... this place was a dump.

And just when we thought all hope was lost, we found duplex perfection.

A little cottage with charm and toilets that DON'T look like they've been barfed in, beaten with a tire iron, and barfed in again. The kitchen has its original bead board back splash that makes me jealous, cute orange counter tops, wood floors, and nine foot ceilings.

Sigh. I want to live here too.

And now (insert evil genius laughter here) I'll be rubbing my hands together and plotting all kinds of paint projects for my soon-to-be-independent little sister.

Yeah. I know. She'll end up yelling at me before this is over.

Invading Mabel's Nest: Lampshade Makeover

2009-10-19T06:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend, after the race was over and I came home and stared at the wall for a while, I got my second wind. And with my second wind came some unexpected motivation to finally tackle a long awaited lamp shade project.

As you can see in the picture, I've eloquently diagrammed how I feel about these 1960's orangish silky lampshades with an arrow and a frownie face.

Mabel, on the other hand, was not enthused. Her small world has been slightly out of kilter with my odd hours and race frenzy. Not to mention the fact that the couch area is her world. Her nest. She didn't appreciate my rattling about, taking lampshades down, firing up the glue gun. And as you can see, she shows her displeasure by rolling her eyes in the fashion of 13 year old teenage girls.

Here's a close up of the hated lampshades. They're old and frayed, not to mention they have super orange lining on the inside. My first impulse was to cover them with a sturdy white denim cloth, but then I realized it would just look odd with the orange lining shining through.

So instead of white, I chose burlap. Or as the lady at the fabric store said, "That scare crow stuff." I had seen lampshades made of this in a great little local store, and I've been itching to try it out.

It's easily adjustable, cheap (a mere $3 a yard), and I trimmed it out in black ribbon.

The best part is the burlap really masks the orange lining on the inside, not to mention the texture is fairly similar to the upholstery on the couch. It was the best kind of project, cheap and quick and easy (if you don't count the fingerprints I burned off operating the glue gun). And Mabel is better now that I've finished up and exited her space. Her nest. She's awfully testy these days.

* Before and after party at Thrifty Decor Chick!

Race Wrap Up: Dented, Not Broken

2009-10-19T05:01:00.000-07:00

The race was fabulous and afterwards I slept for almost 12 hours. It was the sweet sleep of exhaustion and contentment. You can click here to read all about it.

Stress. It's Fun. It Ages.

2009-10-16T06:34:00.000-07:00

So Rebecca whipped out her camera and said, "You told everybody you had to buy new fall clothes, I'm taking a picture of your new sweater." So here is my new sweater. And me wearing a bird necklace Rebecca let me borrow (*cough*I'm-gonna-steal-it*cough*).

On another note, can you see the stress lines creeping onto my face? The pinched my-chest-hurts-and-I-cant-feel-my-hands expression lingering around my eyes? Yeah. Me too. Whew. There's a lot going on at Mabel's House. A lot of cleaning, a lot of planning, a lot of "WAIT, what's my race co-chair doing on tv at 6:15 in the morning and was I supposed to be there?!"

Stress may age me, but it energizes me as well. Nothing makes me feel more alive than having a lot to do. The blood pumps, I blink ninety miles a minute and food never tasted so good. So I'm aging AND having fun. Yeah. Makes no sense to me either.

But on a more positive note, my front porch is decked out with mums and a new pumpkin. It's my personal theory that all can be made right with the world when you have a cheerful front porch. And a clean bathroom. More on my cleaning frenzy later...

Four Plates On The Wall, A Little Stress In My Stomach

2009-10-15T14:55:00.000-07:00

I rarely buy plates. Much less plates to hang on the wall. But today I made an exception.

It all started with this little bird plate I found at a flea market for $2. It looks hand painted and has a funky orange rim. Apparently I've developed a bit of a soft spot for bird decor.

I paired the bird plate with a few other 'round the house' dishes, including this old hand painted plate I've hung on to for the last five years. It's good when things finally find a home.

And despite what every decorating guru and magazine commands, I did not arrange these plates in a grouping of odd numbers. You know the old three or six grouping rule? Not for me. I chose the magic number four. Yep. I'm a rebel like that.

Actually, my new odd preoccupation with plates might have something to do with stress. I made a new rule that I CANNOT stress eat... therefore the next best thing is staring at the platter on which food is supposed to rest. AKA: plates. Wish me luck with all the Race for the Cure business this week through Saturday. It's a wonderful and slightly terrifying experience happening simultaneously. I'm actually not sure how much time I'll have to post until this is over. Until then, I'll be staring at my plates and rocking slightly back and forth, dreaming of Hostess Cupcakes. Mmmmm...

P.S. Did you know that the Komen Arkansas Facebook page is the LARGEST local fan page on Facebook? We have 7,380 fans, and just to compare, New York has 2,221. Pretty amazing huh?

An Acorn Dialogue

2009-10-15T05:01:00.000-07:00

Me: Did you know that Pottery Barn is selling small boxes of acorns?

Matt (the sound of football blaring in the background): Hmmmm...

Me: And did you know that we have acorns lying all over our patio for FREE?

Matt: Hmmmm....

Me: I'm going to go pick some up.

Matt, blinking away from the screen: Why?

Me, shrugging: Crafts?

Matt: What crafts? Do you do crafts?

Me, silent, brows knitting.

Matt: I was just asking.