Another day

It has been a busy two days around here and my original plan was to tell you all about it but it will take more time than I have right now because I am tired and need to go to bed.

So I’m going with an entirely different topic.

I think I mentioned a few weeks ago that Gulley and I are planning on having a garage sale. It was originally going to be last Saturday but we had to postpone it and are now planning to have it this Saturday. Or she might text me in the morning and tell me the whole thing’s off.

We are giving new meaning to the phrase “flying by the seat of our pants”.

But we’re going to have to do something soon because I’ve continued to pile all my slightly worn/kind of used/will anyone pay money for this? things in the master bedroom and we’ve gradually moved from Sanford and Son territory to an episode of Hoarders.

It doesn’t help matters that P has taken this opportunity to clean out the back house and has added all manner of hunting, fishing, and other outdoor accessories to the pile. I have no idea what most of it is but he has made it clear that he’s not willing to bargain. His final price is whatever the price tag says and if people don’t like it then he will take it all back home and keep it on sheer principle.

(Unless I can figure out a way to drop it off at Goodwill without him noticing.)

I’m not exactly sure why Gulley and I decided a garage sale was a good idea in the first place. Everyone who has ever had one will tell you that by the time you factor in the time and effort they put into it that they made approximately $1.60 an hour. But now that we’ve lit this match, we feel like we need to go forward and maybe it will, at best, prove to be an interesting life experience wherein we make $20 a piece or, at worst, serve as a cautionary tale to others filled with stories of people who want to haggle over a dime and break a radio while you’re not looking so you have to give them a discount.

(That actually happened to P’s mom one time when she had a garage sale.)

But here’s where you come in. Do you have any advice? Tips? Organizational skills and/or expertise that you can share? A pricing system that you use that won’t make me feel like Bob Barker by the end of the day?

I mean, other than DON’T DO IT because at this point I think we’ve committed.

Unless Gulley texts me to say she’s changed her mind and it’s too much work.

Because we like to keep our options open.

Thank you in advance for helping us in this moment of sheer insanity.

You know what I didn’t do yesterday?

Paint my barstools.

I thought about it though and I feel like that counts.

But a huge thunderstorm rolled through town on Monday night and so I spent most of the evening with Caroline’s feet somewhere in the vicinity of my ribcage. Then P decided to let us sleep in a little late to compensate for all the sleep none of us got while the thunder rolled and the lightning struck and random Garth Brooks’ lyrics ran through my mind.

By the time I got Caroline to school it was almost nine. And then I had to stop at Starbucks because CAFFEINE. After I got my coffee I came back to the house where my master plan was to still paint the barstools but I got distracted looking at painted barstools on Pinterest which, sadly, does not translate to them magically appearing in my kitchen.

And then I remembered I had to pay a few bills and answer a few emails. Then P came home early because it was pouring down rain and he can’t really work in that kind of weather. He was looking for something in the refrigerator to eat and lamented, “We don’t even have any cheese”.

He was right. We were completely out of cheese. And down to one roll of toilet paper. And I’d packed Craisins in Caroline’s lunch that morning in the hopes they would count as a fruit.

So I realized I was going to have to go to the grocery store. In the rain.

But since I was going to have to get out anyway, I decided I’d go to Home Depot first because P needed some type of wooden dowel to finish the feet for the island. I could explain the whole thing to you but it’s long and boring.

Much like this post so far.

After I found my car keys, I told P I was heading to Home Depot and he said, “Great. Will you get some giant lawn and leaf bags while you’re there?”

Which is the same thing he did when I went to Home Depot on Sunday except then it was, “Hey! Will you get me some storage containers for my tools while you’re there?”

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to help him out and get these things he needs. It’s just that I don’t spend much time at Home Depot. It’s a large warehouse full of tools and such. It overwhelms me.

It would be like if he had to go to Nordstrom for something and I said, “Hey! While you’re there will you pick me up those white skinny jeans?”

There are too many choices. Too many aisles. Too many kinds of storage containers in various shapes. I don’t own tools, therefore I am uncertain about the best container for them. And as for lawn and leaf bags, I thought they just grew in the garage.

But I went to Home Depot and found the dowel thing I was looking for and the lawn and leaf bags.

(On a related note, I feel like I need to confess I did not find the right storage containers for tools. And tried to convince P it was because they didn’t have any in stock. Because why would a home improvement warehouse sell things related to tools?)

Then I went to HEB and it was one of those marathon trips where my cart was piled so high at the end that I would have been embarrassed for the checker to know I was only buying groceries for a family of three instead of The Brady Bunch.

And by the time I got home it was 1:30 and it seemed pointless to start painting the barstools. So I grabbed the chuck roast I bought at the store and decided I’d try Pioneer Woman’s Drip Beef recipe for dinner because, sure, I could continue to cook hot dogs and frozen pizza every night and be THE BEST COOK IN THE WORLD but sometimes you have to take risks, change things up.

It turns out that the drip beef was delicious. To be honest, I think it needs a better name but no one asked me. It’s also a little bit spicy so keep that in mind when you make it. P took some extra Tums before bed tonight.

And so that’s why the barstools didn’t get painted but we had a delicious dinner and we have toilet paper and cheese. What’s that smell?

SUCCESS.

If you don’t count the unpainted barstools.

So I thought I’d give y’all an update about the progress I’ve made on the house in the last few weeks because I think at least ten percent of you might care and it’s not like I have anything else exciting going on here right now.

Here’s what I’ve done so far:

Not much.

Actually that’s not totally true. Right after Holly left I was motivated. With a capital M. And not even fake motivated like I sometimes pretend to be to make everyone around me feel good, but really and truly excited and ready to get some things done. I painted those lanterns red, ordered some word art for above the mantle, and bought some fabric for the couch and throw pillows.

I’m still waiting on the word art to show up. Meanwhile, the fabric is lying on the floor in the playroom, rolled up and covered in plastic, just waiting to be dropped off at the upholsterers. But I’m not sure when that’s going to happen because did I mention that our dog, Scout, had to spend five days at the hospital so we can enjoy him for eight more months?

And did I also mention that P’s twelve-year-old truck finally wore out and we had to buy a new one?

Being a grown up is super awesome.

We also got a few bids on fixing all the cracks in our walls (Thank you, Texas drought!) but decided the first bid seemed too high and then our second guy, Lupe, never called us back with his estimate and I’m not really excited about hiring someone who isn’t even motivated enough to call us back.

And so basically my home improvement project is the complete opposite of all those shows on HGTV where they have almost immediate results.

At least it was until yesterday.

When Holly came to visit, she made a ton of suggestions. And I loved all of them. She just has the best taste and can envision things that would take me years to figure out.

Who am I kidding? I’d never figure them out. I’d put ivy on top of my china cabinet and call it a day.

One of the things she suggested was to paint the base of the island in my kitchen a charcoal gray color. And I thought that was a great idea. I’ve wanted it to be painted since practically the day we got it and I realized that what I thought was going to be a gorgeous, dark wood stain looked more like cheap laminate. My problem was with the realities that actually come with painting a large piece of furniture.

That is to say, IT IS HARD.

The last piece of furniture I painted was the cabinet in Caroline’s bathroom and that was back in 2002 before she even existed. And I had to use oil based paint. And primer. And I still think I have black paint on my hands from that experience and lost countless brain cells. I’d paint a few drawers and then go to the kitchen and eat a pan of brownies.

It was terrible.

And so I haven’t been motivated to paint anything else. I’ve been motivated to hire someone to paint, but that requires money and taking the time to find someone who knows what they’re doing.

So when Holly suggested that the island needed to be painted, I agreed as I mentally put it WAY DOWN on my list of priorities because in what deluded world am I going to exert that much time and effort?

Here’s the island since I like to provide visual aids:

This is the prettiest side because the doors are a good wood finish.

But this is one of the sides that always bugged me. The plain flat surface looked cheap.

And here’s a picture of it featuring P’s elbow floating mysteriously in mid-air.

Then Holly posted about my house project on her blog and mentioned the island. And a nice lady named Jennifer sent me an email and told me she owns a store in San Antonio called Woodley Cottage Finds and Design that carries a brand of paint specifically for furniture named Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT. She said she would love to supply me with the paints, brushes and wax I needed to paint the island. And, not only that, would come to my house and help me do it.

SHUT UP.

But I’d never heard of Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT and was a little concerned this might all be an elaborate ruse by a ring of thieves to gain access to my home. I forwarded the email to Holly and said, “What do you think about this?”

And I received an email back from her that said, “YESSSSSSS!!!!!! DO IT!!!!! IT’S AWESOME PAINT!!!!!”

It took me a while but I eventually figured out that meant she thought it was a good idea. Then I looked a the Annie Sloan website and saw all the gorgeous colors.

I emailed Jennifer back and told her that sounded great and figured I didn’t really care if she stole my T.V. as long as she painted my island before she left. We agreed that Monday was a good day for both of us and she said she’d be at my house by 9:00 a.m.

Which meant that I spent Sunday afternoon cleaning the island so it would be free of grease and dust. It was a very humbling experience that made me reevaluate my cleaning skills. But, finally, it appeared to be ready for paint.

Jennifer showed up and we got to work almost immediately. I was prepared to lay out all manner of tarps and newspaper to help with the mess, but once she showed me the paint I realized that wouldn’t be much of an issue. Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT is water-based so you can totally drip it on your wood floors and wipe it up with a paper towel.

You can even do this a hundred times. I know because that’s how many times I did it.

But it was so easy. There was no need for primer and oil-based paint and all that other stuff I read about that stresses me out and makes me decide that everything is a color I can live with because painting would kill me. It’s all just one paint that goes on easily and dries quickly. There is no prep work required.

I repeat, there is NO PREP WORK REQUIRED.

Are those angels singing?

We’d already finished with the first coat when P came home to make sure I hadn’t been taken captive by a mass murderer posing as a kind boutique owner specializing in faux finishes and various painting techniques.

Here it is after one coat.

And here it is after two coats, but before the wax.

And here is the general wreck that was my kitchen.

Anyway, we finished the whole thing (two coats!) in just a couple of hours and then there’s a wax that seals it all in and makes it like the Superman of furniture. I would have made Mr. Miyagi proud yesterday. You have never seen someone WAX ON, WAX OFF like I did. My left arm is totally in shape for summer now.

Best of all, the island looks great. It’s not totally finished because I still need to wax one little section, but ran out of time and had to pick Caroline up from school and whip up a delicious hot dog dinner. BEST COOK IN THE UNIVERSE.

Here’s the finished island after I put the hardware back on.

And my favorite view.

I wanted to show you the whole kitchen and how great it looks, but I still have a few shelves I need to finish waxing and put back in and I bought some feet for the island that P is going to help me install. Plus, the contents of all my drawers are scattered from hell to breakfast.

But tomorrow I’m finishing the island and painting my barstools and putting the kitchen back together. By myself. Which ought to be an indicator of how easy Annie Sloan CHALK PAINT is to use.

If you’re in San Antonio, you should totally check out Woodley Cottage. Jennifer offers workshops that teach you how to paint, distress, crackle and wax furniture. I honestly learned so much yesterday that I may paint anything that stands still long enough. It will be like that time in fifth grade I got my own label maker, but with paint.

And if you want to find a store that sells Annie Sloan Chalk paint near you, check out all their stockist locations.

I think it was last Monday (it might have been Tuesday) when I noticed that our old dog Scout wasn’t putting any weight on his right front paw. I wasn’t sure what was going on but P and I decided we should probably take him into the vet just to get checked out.

And the vet examined the leg and took some x-rays and called to say we could pick him up and that the diagnosis was arthritis. Well of course he has arthritis. He’s thirteen years old. That’s ninety-one in people years. Honestly, when you factor in that he had heart surgery as a puppy, he’s a medical marvel.

But on Wednesday he was worse. All of a sudden he could barely walk at all. He had no energy and his leg was swollen and hot to the touch. So I took him back to the vet on Thursday morning and they called us to let us know he was running a high fever, needed a full blood work up to check for infection and high doses of antibiotics.

It’s times like this when hindsight tells you pet insurance would have been a great idea.

And also figuring out a way to win the lottery.

Scout spent Thursday night at the vet and wasn’t any better on Friday. The vet called with regular updates and P finally asked the question on both of our minds, “Is Scout going to pull through?”. We were assured that they wouldn’t be doing all this if they didn’t think he could recover and then the doctor made a comment that we’ve been mulling over for the last few days. He said, “He could get through this and probably have a good eight months left.”

Here are my thoughts on this in numerical format:

1. Eight months seems like an arbitrary number. How does he determine it will be eight months?

2. If you’re a person, eight months is significant. If you’re a dog, I’m not sure that eight months really means that much. It’s not like Scout has to get his will and other financial affairs in order. Because, I assure you, Scout is flat broke.

Anyway, Scout spent the entire weekend at the vet. And he’s still there. Caroline and I went to visit him yesterday and they think he’ll be able to come home tomorrow. And I guess we’ll live it up for the next eight months. Maybe we’ll take him to Disney World or the dog equivalent which is to go to the ranch and roll in fresh cow poo.

But in all seriousness, I’m glad he’s going to be okay for now. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

In other weekend news, we had a big Cinco de Mayo celebration here. Or as we called it, a Crawfish de Mayo celebration.

Caroline and I even made a sign.

And then she made another sign all by herself on her chalkboard.

We hung both of them up.

A few weeks ago P decided to order a bunch of crawfish from Louisiana and have a big crawfish boil. And then we realized we’d set the date for Cinco de Mayo. And, lo, a tradition and a party theme were born.

A theme where guacamole and crawfish walk hand in hand or claw in claw in peace and harmony. But not together because gag.

Best of all, the entertainment for the kids is built right in. It flies in the face of every time I’ve told Caroline she shouldn’t play with her food.

Of course maybe that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

That’s actually not a live crawfish I’m holding. That’s a dead one that Gulley’s husband found in our guest bathroom later that night.

Please don’t pay attention to my bathroom trashcan. The bigger issue is how a dead crawfish ended up in my house.

And begs the question, are there more I haven’t discovered?

I guess I’ll know in a few days.

__________________________________________

I loved this post by Kelli called Hope is Slow from the Tanzania Compassion Bloggers’ trip.

I had big plans to write a long post about our weekend, but then I sat on the couch and discovered The Blind Side was on T.V.

And that was the end of my writing about the weekend initiative.

But I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.

In the meantime, I did write a post about my favorite baseball movies over at The Pioneer Woman’s blog. You can read it if you want.

More importantly, there are some Compassion bloggers visiting Tanzania right now and I’ve already cried twice while reading their posts. I especially loved Thanks of the Few from Shaun Groves and Well I Didn’t Expect to Meet HER in Tanzania from the Nester.

Have a lovely Monday.

This is probably going to be brief because I am exhausted. In a few minutes you will understand why.

But first, several people emailed me yesterday and asked about Holly and her decorating services. So I just wanted to let y’all know that she does online consultations. In fact, that’s how we originally started brainstorming about my house. I emailed her four or sixty-two pictures of all my rooms at different angles so she could begin to formulate a plan.

You can also read her version of our day together on her blog if you’re interested.

Or you can go watch Joshua Ledet’s performance last night on American Idol because MY WORD at the talent.

Or you can stay right here and read about how I’ve spent the last few days.

Covered in dust.

What? Covered in dust? Have I undertaken some elaborate home renovation project?

Not really. I’ve just been cleaning out all the stuff that has been under various beds in my house for approximately an embarrassing number of years.

Because after Holly left and I began to think about painting and fresh new stuff, I was seized with the need to get rid of a bunch of old junk. This was actually on my to-do list in August as a goal I’d like to accomplish once Caroline was back in school.

So it makes total sense that we’re down to three weeks left in the school year and I’m finally getting it done.

Procrastination, you complete me.

Anyway, I came home from church on Sunday and was struck with the urge to begin the clean out process. And so I sat and ate some Black Bean and Roasted Garlic Tostitos, hoping this urge would pass. But then I got on the phone with Gulley and we finally committed to schedule the joint garage sale we’ve been threatening to do for the last few months.

(By joint garage sale I mean that we are doing it together. There will be no illegal drugs sold out of Gulley’s garage.)

We set the date for Saturday, May 19th and that was all the motivation I needed to start cleaning. I began with the china cabinet in the dining room. I’m happy to report that it still holds craft supplies, my wedding photo album, our mortgage paperwork and my wedding stationary, but it all looks a lot neater. Plus I managed to throw out an entire trash bag worth of stuff.

I still had some energy after that was completed, so I moved into our bedroom and decided to clean out our nightstands. P’s was easy because all he keeps in it is the latest hard back Cabela’s catalog and a giant blue flashlight.

Mine? A totally different story.

I don’t know how long it had been since I’d cleaned it out from top to bottom, but I will confess that there was a People magazine dated the week Caroline was born. August 2003. Angelina Jolie is on the cover holding baby Maddox and the headline reads “My Baby Saved My Life!”

I guess that explains why she went on to have forty-six more children.

Ironically, there was also a photo of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston together on the inside which reminded me how much more innocent we all were back in 2003 when we thought the gift of matching, perfectly highlighted hair was enough to keep a marriage together.

Here’s a picture to show you the rest since words fail me.

The place where ponytail holders go to die.

In an odd way, I feel that this random assortment of ponytail holders, bullets, foam rollers, a neon green banana clip, an arrowhead, a Bible, Halls cough drops and Caroline’s little night cap pretty much sums up my life.

Oh, and those bright green little cases? Those hold the wax that I put on my braces every night back in 2006 when I still had braces.

(Have I ever told y’all that my mother-in-law is so organized that she’s been known to bring over a labeled file folder that holds ONE piece of paper? Yet it’s labeled. And in a folder. She could give The Container Store lessons in home organization.)

(This drawer would make her cry.)

I also found a receipt from a lunch I bought in 2006 for a big group of doctors when I was still a pharmaceutical rep. Why was it still in my nightstand in the Year of Our Lord 2012? I don’t know but P is concerned that I was never reimbursed for the lunch expense since I clearly never mailed in the receipt.

And I found a gift certificate to Alamo Cafe that Honey and Big brought me in the hospital the day after Caroline was born. It was hidden under the chart that I made to keep track of Caroline’s eating and pooping. Apparently she had a significant poop on August 8th at 4 p.m. and I decided I didn’t need to keep the chart anymore.

But don’t think I’m not going to go into Alamo Cafe and see if they’ll still honor it. They totally should. I’ve been busy. I had a baby EIGHT AND A HALF years ago.

The last few days I’ve found pictures that have made me smile, dust bunnies that would frighten a grown man, and a sparkly blue flip-flop that’s been missing for two years.

I have thrown out at least six large trash bags full of stuff and have started forming a pile of things to sell in the garage sale in the corner of our bedroom. It looks like the set of Sanford and San. I swear I walked in there yesterday and heard the sounds of a bass harmonica begin to play.

I worked on Caroline’s room last because I knew it would kill my spirit. And it almost won. When the head of a stuffed bunny came off thereby spilling guts all over the place, I nearly walked away. But I persevered.

Every room in my house is totally cleaned out. Purged. Set free.

Except for the kitchen.

But I’ll think about that tomorrow.