My Creative Space: still unpacking

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The side of our house gets a nice batch of empty boxes each day, as I slowly sift through the stuff we've yet to unpack.  Most of the boxes that remain underground are labeled "Art" or "Kids' Books,"  and I'm attempting to purge both collections as I bring them into the light of day. 

Not an easy task, mind you, considering the years I've spent amassing each, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that I can't hang on to everything.  So, yeah, if you're looking for a Boxcar Children book, I'm your man.  Also if you have need of a bunch of presser feet, a large, laminated Ben Franklin, or an assortment of bulldog clips.  Because we arty folks never know when something might come in useful, isn't that right?

For more creative (and less cluttered) spaces...

Still here.

Cool porch, no?  And the kids are terrifying the dog-walkers and joggers alike as they careen down the ramp on their bikes...

The new house is a marvel of freshly-finished floors and just-painted (or just-about-to-be-painted) rooms.  The basement makes the Labyrinth look like child's play and the garage is chock-a-block with the vast majority of our possessions,  but the overall impression is favorable.  The laundry chutes work, the studio is coming along, and the bathrooms are intact, though terrifying.  (Seriously---who paints over the shower tile?  Wait!  It must be the same people who---I kid you not---wallpapered the entire kitchen with Contac paper.)

The kids' rooms are set up, for the most part, but Jess and I are shacked up in the basement until he can harness some manpower to help move our beds upstairs.  The paint colors we chose (long-distance) are fine, for the most part, although the creamy yellow in the living and dining rooms is a little more washed out than I'd hoped for, and the Honeydew that the little girls decided on at the last minute has kind of a neon subtext that borders on being less than soothing.  The kitchen---aqua walls, red accents, and black and white checkered floors---is a glorious sight to behold, although I'm in a snit about the flooring.  Pattern, fab!  Texture, FAIL.  Grainy.  Who makes grainy kitchen flooring?  Suffice it to say that the floor-maintenance department is unimpressed.  Pics forthcoming.

I'm mid-dresser-rehab, in the midst of the madness, and am making a slapdash job of it.  The girls are entranced, though, and can't wait to have the finished product in their psychedelic digs.  Just add princess crowns, and they're happy, thank goodness...

Akiva's 12th birthday came in a frenzy of chocolate-cake-making.  Given the fat that we'd been in the new house for a whopping three days and I'd yet to locate the majority of the Finer Things---like Shani's shoes, the damned baking powder, and all of our hangers---I felt justified in patting myself on the back for
a) unearthing the KitchenAid and
b) producing--- and serving!--- anything even remotely palatable.

Card art by Esti---she blows my mind.

The munchkins sally forth to school this week, and we're all looking forward with varying degrees of enthusiasm.   I'm hoping to have my act a bit more together in time to tackle the carpool-lunches-homework show with my usual aplomb, but have already accepted the fact that we may have to fake it for the first couple-few weeks.  No use being all Pollyanna-ish at my own expense...

The Sweatshop is Open.

Not really, but I did drag out Old Faithful and do a little sewing last night.  At the dining room table, mind you, because no way was I going down into the haven o craft with all of those boxes crying out to be opened.  But enough about my boxes.  Check out the awesome vintage sheets I picked up at the thrift shop last week while I was cruising for floor lamps! 

The label said "queen set" but it's actually two flat sheets and a pair of pillowcases---lots of nice, flat yardage for me to play around with.  I cut into them last night, andthe results brought Jess' axiom to mind: 

 Embrace the wonk.

Embrace it I shall---it's good to be back in action again!

Busy much?

It's been pretty quiet lately in my neck of the blogosphere, and I'm sure my faithful readers are wondering why.  So here's a brief overview of life chez littlegreenbums this past week---from our journey to The Cream City last week, up to and including my thwarted attempt at retail therapy this very evening.

See that big yellow truck?  It took two trips in that bad boy to ferry all of our worldly goods from Des Moines to Milwaukee...and I can assure you, we are buried---buried!--- in boxes at the mo'. (Matter of fact, we'll probably remain buried in boxes for quite some time.  My spin bike is at the base of a mountain of empties as we speak---guess who didn't get to ride today, despite her intentions to the contrary?)  Anyway, the kitchen is mostly unpacked, the children are all accounted for, and the rest of it is a disaster of absolutely epic proportions.  (I'm exaggerating.  I sometimes exaggerate when I'm so far beyond exhausted that my hair hurts...)  And did I tell you about the Haven o' Craft?  No?  That's probably because I've only entered it in the past 5 days to add boxes labeled "Art Room" to the teetering piles already contained in its very small walls.  And the dining room table?  Have you seen it?  Me neither...buried. But tomorrow we'll fetch the bookshelves from storage, and then I can put away the forty-some-odd boxes of kids' books, which should improve the obstacle course-like nature of the dining room.  (And the living room.  And a couple of bedrooms, now that you mention it...)

Whenever we pick up and plant ourselves in a new location, the kidlets and I find it helpful to get out of the house and see the sights a bit.  Get our bearings, determine the lay of the proverbial land.  Check out the libraries, the grocery store, the emergency room... (No worries...she's fine.  Just a little bout of nursemaid's elbow.  Can you think of a more amusing way to spend a Sunday evening?  I thought not!)

Right.  So, as a little sanity-boosting measure ---and to replenish the perpetually diminishing supply of lunchbox fare, again---I took my new produce bags out for a spin at the fancy Pick and Save a few miles from the house.  I was over the moon to discover that the store has a nice bulk section, and that my beloved  (and elusive) red lentils were one of the items on offer.  Feeling ever-so-virtuous, I whipped out a produce bag and proceeded to fill 'er up.  After a good meander around the store, I headed for the checkout.  Where I demonstrated, as lentils rained out of my bag, through the wire frame of my shopping cart, and speckled the floor of the checkout aisle, that the mighty drawstring is a fabulous closure for a produce bag---so long as the produce in question is sufficiently bulky to remain in said bag when gravity-provoked.  (This minor glitch was rectified posthaste with a spare (new) hair elastic I just happened to have in my coat pocket, and I'm pleased to report that the lentils and I arrived home without further mishap.  Whew!)

And the winner is...

...the fabulous Make Mine Mid-Century!  I'll be shipping out your set o' produce bags within the week, Carmel, assuming that you email me with your details.

In case you're wondering as to the status of the Boxes Unpacked Tally, I stopped counting at 142.  Lots of those were exciting things like kitchen gear and food (yes, Danielle, I packed food...not leaving 20 cans of tomatoes for the new owners, thank you very much!) and tomorrow, heaven help me, we'll start on the books.  We'll also be bringing home the dryer, thank goodness---I've got more laundry to do than any of you would care to think about, and with temps in the mid-20's, hanging the skivvies to dry outside ranks pretty low on my list of Things to Do.

The house is coming along, but hasn't quite reached "cozy" status in my book.  Actually, my short-term goal is to be able to see the entire dining room floor by Chanukah. You've gotta start somewhere, I always say...

Out of the Box

Milwaukee Skyline
Originally uploaded by lmazing

Oh. My. Goodness Gracious. "Exhausted" does not so much as begin to touch it. I am well and truly knackered, and the going, my friends, is s-l-o-w.

We arrived in our new home on Sunday afternoon, after a delightful (read: 6-and-a-half-hour, vomit-enhanced) roadtrip. The unpacking started as soon as Jess shifted the truck into park, and it hasn't stopped yet.

The sewing machine has been unpacked, and I've staked out a little nook in the basement to serve as Craft Central. (pictures as soon as I can find my camera. And the card reader. And 8 consecutive minutes to sit down and write.)

Don't forget to leave a comment on Friday's post if you'd like to be entered in my super-duper-blogiversary-giveaway!

Fruit of My Ulcer

Some people scrub things when they're all stressed out.  Alas, I am not among those efficient elite.  (This woefully sad truth is one that I've heard The Huz lament upon more often than I care to recall.  But what can you do?)  Others, I'm told, hit the gym when the going gets tough.  Not I, my friends.  When the heat is on, you'll find me in the throes of making something.  Root canal on tomorrow's agenda?  Have a dozen fresh-baked blueberry muffins!  Bipolar-Obsessive-Compulsive-possible-homebuyer playing Russian Roulette with your life?  Let's go make some eco-friendly upcycled shopping bags!

So now you know what I did last night.  With the madness surrounding the attempted sale of our home fueling the fires of my neurosis creativity, I cranked out these three little beauties (the bags, not the kids!) in about an hour and a half (including a quick Connect Four break and two trips to the potty with a certain someone who just doesn't trust anyone but Mommy to take her....)  I'd been meaning to make new totes for a ages, having noted that my grocery bag wardrobe needed a little vintage kick in the pants.

As usual, I used Super Eggplant's Tote Bags 101, and as usual, am pleased as punch with the results.  These are super-simple, ultra-addictive, and require no actual measuring.  And in my case, no actual cutting.  Since I was using vintage sheets anyhoo, I went with the old snip-and-rip maneuver and didn't look back.  To further traumatize those of you who Really Sew, I'll let you in on a little secret.  I only used white thread for the whole shebang, because---wait for it!---all of the pretty thread is in a box.  In Milwaukee.   I didn't use a single pin, either...guess where they are?

Lucky for me, I hadn't yet packed the unpicker.   Or the sewing machine oil, as both of those handy implements were called for in the course of the evening's events.  As was a dinner knife, brandished with Scotty-esque finesse---the screwdriver's packed!--- to coax open the top of my trusty machine.

All in all, a good night's work.  And so what if I didn't Clean All The Things?  The checkout girl at Trader Joe's complimented me on my bags this morning, only hours after I'd  snipped those last dangling threads.

Didn't she ramble?

It's been strange here these past couple of weeks.  When our buyers pulled their little disappearing act, it threw us into stasis--didn't know if we were coming or going.  Trying to keep the house in show-able condition limits what can happen within its walls, and, to be honest, I've been in a bit of a funk.

A recent checkup revealed a spike in my cholesterol level (which is usually quite low) that my doctor attributed to stress.  Yeah, I'll buy that.  She told me to lose some weight and to exercise regularly, since my diet is already pretty clean.  So I finally dragged my lazy bum downstairs to the spin bike that keeps the washer and dryer company, and I'm pleased to report that I've used it every day since.  (My secret weapon?  I only let myself watch Glee while I'm riding! )

Trader Joe's opened its doors here in Des Moines last week, and I took the kids for a shop on Sunday.  (Note to self:  Do not take the kids to TJ's.  Do not shop ANYWHERE on Sunday afternoon.)  We waded   through the throngs of elated Des Moinians that swarmed the aisles, picking up an assortment of groceries that, on later inspection, bore no relation whatsoever to the list I'd prepared.

The littlest loinfruit has taken to dressing herself.  It's a shame you can't see the navy Converse sneakers that "made" the outfit.

When you least expect it...expect it.

Our buyer pulled out yesterday morning. You know, the buyer who contacted us months ago, before we had any intention of moving?  No explanation, no apology, just a terse email from their attorney stating that they're no longer interested in the property.  Which is awkward, since we've already moved half of our stuff to Milwaukee, and are paying for storage there.  And because my kids' clothes, toys, and books are all boxed and gone, and they're supposed to be starting school there in 2 weeks.

We've hired a realtor, and the house is on the market, and I'm sure that it's all for the best.   Look forward to some interesting blogging in the weeks to come---on the joys of showing a house that's occupied by a lively family of eight, the wonders of camping out in your own 4200 square foot home, and  the dubious pleasures of  deconstructing a chicken coop, board by board. 

On a more pleasant note, my big kids have been busy in the Haven o' Craft, which is shockingly empty and  very nearly tidy at the moment, given that its usual contents are in boxes in Wisconsin.  Esti had a yen to make a Dread Pirate Westley shirt.  She freezer-paper stenciled it and knocked the whole thing out in one evening--- unlike her mother, who tends to do things like this in "chunks."  The lettering is sparkly and silver, and it looks pretty amazing.

 And Mojy gave our well-loved Cabbage Patch Kid a makeover.  He hand-sewed all of the clothes---with no help from me!  This was a surprise project--I came home from a meeting to find he'd raided the remains of my stash (and his brother's closet) and fixed up Shani's "baby." 

They never cease to amaze me, these rugrats of mine...with their ingenuity, their creativity, and their willingness to make something from nothing.  I think I'll keep 'em.

My Creative Space: But not so much.

The only creativity around here this week has been in the kitchen. As our move date approaches, I find myself offering up clever use-up-what-we've-got sort of menu selections.

"What'll it be, guys? Cream of Wheat and Salmon Surprise or Broccoli-Craisin Wontons?"

Check out some real creative spaces over at Kirsty's.

At my house

We're quietly recovering from the last round of holidays.  There's a mountain of laundry to be done, and I did a massive shop today.  It's all very mundane, but I'm feeling that must be the calm before the storm.  We're consigning our lives to cardboard boxes--again--in anticipation of our upcoming move.  The hardest part of moving, for me, is the limbo of it, and we're hurtling headlong in that direction.  I'm clinging to the everyday, the routine, to keep myself from dwelling on it.

 

Pop over to LouLou's to see what everyone's up to...