Is just saying "Thank You" enough?

No. Not in this case.

You know, it’s not that hard for me to think back six and a half years to my first day as an assistant principal. I remember very clearly that I did not know what the hell I was doing or more specifically what the hell I SHOULD be doing. As a teacher you have plans – yes they may change – but overall you have plans for the day that you follow. As an assistant principal you can TRY to make plans like schedule meetings, observe teachers, etc. However, I learned very quickly that, for an administrator, all hell breaks loose the minute the students step on campus so you might as well forget about all those “best laid” plans. You end up putting out fires (not literally thank goodness – well maybe once) and dealing with what my administrative team and I lovingly call “shisnick”. You catch my drift.

When I came in with my brand new shiny name tag that advertised my position as an administrator, all I knew was that I wanted to support the teaching and learning inside the building. Ok –that is such a pat type of answer and sounds like BS and something the school board would want me to say. I’ll be honest – I just wanted to survive and not be burned at the stake. It’s one AP and a whole bunch of teachers and one wrong move and – ZAP! Sizzle.

When my plan to retire began to seep out, one of the teachers that I supervise said she would like to organize a lunch or dinner at a restaurant before I retire. She said, “I will reserve a room or something.” I said, “Sure!” and then I immediately thought – you expect people to give up time out of their weekend to come to a restaurant and spend time with me???? Forget a room, a booth would probably suffice. Maybe a few would show up. Those that have no life. Maybe. Unless they had reruns to watch. Or a needlepoint to finish. Or toenails to clip.

 But my teachers did show up on a Sunday afternoon just to let me know I would be missed. The word “overwhelmed” doesn't even begin to cut it. Flabbergasted is closer but still not enough. Wow. They could have sent a card, could have just given me a hug in the hallway, could have clapped their hands and said to themselves – thank god she’s retiring. But they came out. Instead of Christmas shopping. Instead of trimming the tree. Instead of baking Christmas cookies with their kids. They came out.

We laughed, cried, and reminisced, all while I soaked in the company. Great company. And as I sat there with these fantastic people I questioned myself, “Why am I leaving all this?” Then I remembered…the shisnick. Which causes the stress, which causes the frowns, which causes the wrinkles, which causes Patti to want a face-lift.

I will never forget this get together though. Now remember “never” is not as long as it used to be for me considering my age. But I repeat, I will never forget this because it required the sacrifice of time. I have had the incredible pleasure and honor to support the most amazing teachers. I really get choked up just thinking about it. They are so frickin’ good at what they do. They inspired me every day and to be honored by these incredible educators means I made a difference. Had an impact. Meant something. And that, ladies and gents, is what life is all about.

To all my teachers and colleagues -  Thank You! I love you guys and will miss you.       

But definitely not the shisnick … 

Crown Moulding...who said we needed this anyway?

Oh that's right. It would be ME! 

I know my readers (all 2 of you) have been waiting with bated breath to hear how the crown moulding installation went in the master bedroom. Well I won’t disappoint. It had the makings of a debacle.

Crown moulding + math challenged amateurs + non-square walls = a fudged up mess

We tried to read and become educated about it – really we did. My husband bought a book entitled Crown Moulding and Trim – Install it Like a Pro! (not making this up). Of course the book was confusing as hell but we did take some tips from it, such as the suggestion to make templates of the corner angles. We had some leftover moulding from another project so we did just that.

Armed with our templates, our plan was to cut a 16 footer on both ends of the moulding and put that across the smaller end of the room. We used the templates as a guide, measured twice, held our breath, brought the blade down and cut the wood.

After having to go back and cut it smaller 2 more times ( our mantra was “better to cut long than short”) we decided to nail the sucker up. Now I know most of you do not know my husband, so when I say that if one or 2 is good then in his mind 30 must be better. He nailed that sucker up there with a nail gun every 8 inches on top AND on the bottom. But I figured – no problem I can fill in the holes and repaint. Easy fix. We had templates –it’s all good.

Now came the real test. Matching the corners with the next piece. I had heard about fake corners that you can buy, but we were hardcore and going for the artisan touch of real 45 degree angles. No cheating for us. No siree bob! Besides, we had templates remember?

As we lifted the moulding that would be at a 90 degree angle to the one already installed (with the gazillion nails in it), we would soon see that the theory of using the templates must be for those people who actually knew what they were doing. It did not fit. Not even close. Undeterred, we decided to try the other side of the wall. We dragged ourselves back to the saw, cut another piece of crown and headed back to what now is becoming the torture chamber instead of the bed chamber. We had templates damn it. Surely it would fit like a puzzle piece. Nope –  a gap the size of the grand canyon. 

Hmmmmm…. After calling a meeting of our two great minds it seemed that possibly there was a reason why people use those pre-made corners. It is a called self- preservation. So…we headed back to the store. We are starting to be like Norm from the old TV show Cheers. They scream our name when we come in. Anyway, we caved in and bought four corner pieces that the molding would slide into. This would give the illusion of a finished corner without the profanity, twelve trips back to the saw and back up the ladder, and might possibly save this marriage.

Now – what to do with the piece that had all those nails in it? Well, we had to pry it off the wall and pull out each of the nails. I was able to salvage it and we could reuse it. Although I did put my husband on a nail diet after that and we went with one nail every couple of feet. Even WITH the pre-made corners, installing crown moulding is not a cinch and not for those faint of heart. However, we completed the project and once again did not shoot each other with the nail gun – although it was tempting.

Two days (total 9 hours) and a lot of caulk and wood filler later, the crown is up and lookin’ good. And as for those templates? As we relaxed our aching back and neck muscles with a glass of wine by the fireplace, we had great joy throwing them into the fire and watching them go up in smoke. I also threw in the book for good measure. Burn baby burn. 

Whoever invented this is a genius!

Before it was ashes.

How do you spell R-E-L-I-E-F?

Thanksgiving Break – that’s how.

As I bask in the glory of having the week off for Thanksgiving I contemplate one of the oldest arguments in regards to educators and public perception. Vacation time for teachers.

People who work in the private sector (businesses, banking, medical care) think teachers have it made. Summer off, 2 weeks at Christmas, a week at Thanksgiving and Easter. And they are right – it is the single best part of the job, and if an educator says that the rewards from teaching children outweigh this perk, they are lying. Don’t believe them. It’s the time off that makes the job appealing and do you know why?????

Because we would all be insane WITHOUT this time off. You would have psychiatric facilities full of teachers and administrators mumbling incoherently and swatting at imaginary things in the air. Really – we would all be cuckoo. And why would this happen?

One word. 

One single word... 

Children.

OK, now if you have children you are thinking MY precious brood would NEVER do ANYTHING to aggravate a teacher. And that may be the case. Maybe. However there are enough children out there that do not have the same self-control as your darlings and these children cause mass chaos for the teachers and administrators. We all are prematurely grey IF we have any hair left by the time we have completed 10 years in this profession.

Me in 2000
Ready to educate the world

Me in 2014
Who said children keep you young?

Now don’t get me wrong. Teaching children has its rewards- for sure. It

just seems that nowadays there is an imbalance between the warm fuzzies of watching children learn and grow and day to day struggle to maintain control of not only the classroom but of your own frustration.

Think about it – we stuff 32 children into one room and as a teacher you have to not only teach the content but also keep control and as we like to say in the current vernacular – keep them “engaged”.

What happens in your own house on a rainy day and you have your, let’s say, two children home for the day? Tell me they have not driven you nuts by the time 5PM rolls around. Now multiply those 2 by 16 –don’t let them watch TV, sword fight, build legos, dress up dolls or watch a Disney movie. It ain’t pretty.

Teachers deal with rolling of eyes, talking back, sucking teeth, directions completely ignored and sometimes even profanity thrown at them. And this is on a daily basis. So when you think about how teachers are “spoiled” because the time off they get, I want you to consider doing this:

Invite every child in your neighborhood over for a rainy day (must be at least 20). You have the sole responsibility to keep them engaged in learning activities for 6 hours (no cheating by turning on Sponge Bob). Then, when it’s time for your 20 minute lunch, you must scarf down your food while never taking your eyes off your wards for fear they will begin a Tater Tot war, bully someone, or watch porn on their cell phones (not making this up). Good luck. You will surely be in the liquor cabinet as soon as they leave.

All said and done – teaching has become extremely difficult. But I know if I asked my teachers if there is any other profession they would choose they would look at me like I was crazy. They are dedicated, caring, and amazing individuals who are on the front lines everyday trying to educate this next generation. It’s not easy and it’s not always pleasant. So throw them a bone, cut them some slack, and let them enjoy the time off without resentment. THEY HAVE EARNED IT!

Helllooooo? Is anybody out there?

Don’t ask me why I pose these questions at the beginning of my posts. It’s like I expect someone to answer them. I know there are a few (very few) people who read my ramblings I’m throwing out into cyberspace, so mostly I guess I’m talking to myself. You know there are places they put people that do that.

Well I thought this week would be a good opportunity to review the master bedroom budget. I pulled a projection of $1000.00 out of mid- air when I first posted about undertaking this renovation. I knew that $1000.00 was basically all I could afford so I needed to make it work. Did I make it? Ummm not quite. But I will be pretty damn close. Here is a synopsis of where the money has gone up to this point. All costs are approximate. 

1.       I have been able to save money on the furniture for sure. There is NO WAY this bedroom could have been transformed on this budget without saving the furniture. But refinishing the furniture required the purchase of primer, paint, and other supplies. Cost: $50.00. That’s a helluva lot better than $3000 for new furniture. Although now my husband has to have hernia surgery (I’m not kidding) probably from lifting all this furniture. By the time the hospital bills come I could have had new furniture from Ethan Allen. I’m an idiot.

2.       Prepping, priming and painting the walls sounds like a cheap fix, and it is compared to purchasing other items, but paint is no longer an inexpensive commodity. I remember (back in the Dark Ages) when a gallon of paint was $8.00. Now, a gallon of paint is more like $27 - $30. Cost: $120.00

3.       The new headboard (Wal-Mart online) was definitely the most expensive purchase for the remodel, however the old brass headboard will sell for at least $100 on Craig’s list. Cost minus the resale of the old headboard: $279.00

4.       The chevron patterned storage bench (Wal-Mart online) Cost: $100.00

5.       Accent table (Target)  Cost:  $95.00

6.       Lamp shades (LampsPlus) for my mom’s lamps.  Cost: $100 with shipping

7.        Mirror (HomeGoods) for dresser. Cost: $129 minus $20 gift card and $10 rewards coupon = $99.00

8.       Window coverings (Bed, Bath and Beyond) Cost: $79 less $20 gift card Cost: $59.00

9.       Crown Moulding (Lowes): $150.00

Total: $1,052.00

Not too shabby. Yesterday I finished up the armoire and I hope we can get the headboard attached and some things moved around the bedroom today. Once everything is in place there may be some extra costs for some bracketless shelves or art work that is not included above.

Oh by the way … I did not win the Blog Cabin (I can’t believe it!) and it doesn’t look like I won the Urban Oasis. WTF. However I AM waiting to get a call from Nicole Curtis telling me I won the Don’t Hate, Renovate Sweepstakes. I’ll let you know as soon as I get off the phone with her. She should be contacting me the week after Thanksgiving – just in time for Christmas.

Hey Nicole – after your call, let’s do lunch!

Should husbands and wives procreate AND renovate??

Iffy.

You know the old book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus? In my opinion, there is a reason they compared men to Mars, which denotes being “out there” or crazy, and women to Venus which has the connotation of beauty and grace. Makes perfect sense to me. Now, I’m not about to bash men. Truly I’m not. Some of the best times in my life revolved around the opposite sex. However, when you decide to take on a renovation with your man, you are stepping into dangerous territory or simply put, stepping into doo—doo.

Phil and I do pretty well in the beginning and then slowly we start to wear on each other’s nerves. And it’s all his fault. For sure. Remember I’m from Venus. Perfect. Never annoying. Always delightful. He’s from Mars. Irrational. Weird. Three heads. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. It’s not that there is any yelling - although we are probably both yelling in our head “IDIOT!” -  just exasperated looks and a whole lot of mumbling under the breath.

One of the causes of these frustrations we have while working together is lack of communication. Women in general use words (lots of them) to communicate. Usually more than a man wants to hear. Phil is a man of few words, unless he is watching the news and then it’s a free-for-all peppered with a lot of profanity. So, while working together sometimes he thinks I can just read his mind about how to help him lift something, or where to shine the flashlight, or which wrench to hand him, or maybe I just happened to ignore the fact that he was in the crosshairs of the spray paint. Honest mistake, really.

He is an efficiency expert. I’m the opposite. It’s Oscar and Felix from The Odd Couple all over again. Yet we managed to gut a bathroom and completely re-do it and somehow remained man and wife. It was touch and go though. But when we finished and stood back and looked at our work, we were proud of each other and also secretly thankful one of us didn’t shoot the other with the nail gun. I know that behind the scenes in the new show “Fixer Upper” that Chris and Joanna Gaines must call each other an ass under his or her breath every once and awhile, or at least roll their eyes when the other one isn’t looking. They CAN’T be that happy right? I think it’s a plot to make the rest of us look like failures as renovating spouses.

The reason I’m bringing this up now is that we are nearing the end of the master bedroom renovation. We made it through the dresser mirror installation – barely. Is it my fault that it took me such a long time to decide where to hang it? Yes the mirror is huge and he was holding it up all that time by himself. Hmmphf. Small detail. At least it is to someone from Venus.

However, even with that small glitch it’s been going pretty smoothly, but shark infested waters lie ahead. It’s time for the crown moulding. Crown moulding means that I will be an integral part of the installation, meaning I’m supposed to hold the other end. It’s inevitable that I will silently be asked to read his mind and will fail to do so thus resulting in a calamity.  Uh oh – a nail gun is involved in this. Maybe I should wear a suit of armor. 

A sneak peak at the progress we have made... together.

BEFORE: a hot mess

AFTER: sleek, and contemporary

Which would YOU choose? Wisdom or youth?

My husband, I, and another couple had a belated birthday celebration for me this weekend. We went out to a lovely restaurant for dinner and then enjoyed some wonderful entertainment in the lounge. I had a great time – really I did. Danced with my husband, had great conversation with friends, received presents – that’s always a plus. But despite the superb company and awesome food, I found myself continually watching the 30 to 40 something women who were in the restaurant and discovered I was becoming envious of them. I hated that. I don’t want to be jealous of anyone – well except maybe George Clooney’s new wife, which should be allowed – because I realize I’m extremely lucky. I am a decent looking, overall healthy 60 year old with an acceptable body, and a family who loves me. In between my bites of salmon, I began questioning why I was obsessing over something that they had that I could not have – namely youth. Obviously, this is something over which I have no control. I began to ponder, should I be thinking, as the old saying goes, “It’s better than the alternative” and just be glad to be alive? I started to do some serious reflecting and have been asking myself how I can get over this and accept where I am and who I am at this time in my life. I want to get to the point where I don’t long for the past or how I looked in the past or miss having a “presence” as opposed to being invisible yada yada yada. I need to stop whining in my head. Why can’t I be satisfied that I have two beautiful children and grandchildren, a good marriage, and have had successful careers? Is something wrong with me? Is too much of my self-esteem tied up with looks as opposed to brains? Man, if so, I guess I’m shallow. Like an evaporating puddle. Maybe I need an intervention.

For a nanosecond I wondered if the women in the restaurant looked at me and were envious of the wisdom gained throughout my years. Not a chance. Let’s be honest. They don’t even look at me let alone long for my wisdom and experience. Did I notice 60 year olds when I was their age? Heck no. In our society we put so much more emphasis on looks than we do on wisdom and obviously, in my own head, I have fallen into that trap. Shame on me.

My sis and me at the Club Med in Cancun. I was a whole 23 years old. We were "hot to trot". 

This is a work in progress and on a very personal level. On a practical level I believe it’s a waste of time to desire something that is unattainable – meaning turning back time. And I hate to waste time – ask my children. My sis and I have deep, but humorous, discussions about aging all the time. Neither of us is real fond of being in the aging process. Unfortunately, we have yet to convince each other that life is better in our 60s. We try though – we really do. However as I edge towards my retirement from education I do feel a bit of a spark as far as the possibility of learning something new and the excitement of a new challenge. Could this possibly replace the aspects of youth that I miss? Like dancing all night, having mind-blowing sex, or believing the world is my oyster?

NAH – hell no - but it may make things a bit easier. I’m just bein’ honest. This may take some time…or a facelift (just kidding – can’t afford it!)

Skip ahead 34 years. I'm on the right, sis on the left.

Remember when stripping was sexy?

Getting ready for hot sex and teasing the mate with a bit of strip tease… oh yea. Unfortunately, it’s now a distant memory.  Something to think about in the nursing home for sure. I can still remember it – just not do it! Even if my husband was near blind and the room was completely dark, chances are as I was gyrating around I would throw out my new hip, get a toe cramp or worse yet, trip over the string-like thong. It’s best I leave the sexy stripping to the young folk. So at this age the word “stripping” has taken on a new meaning for me. Furniture. Yep.  That is what age has done to me. Instead of slowly taking off my clothes to reveal lacy, luscious lingerie I’m donning rubber gloves, goggles and a Darth Vader-like mask.

I have undertaken refinishing all the old bedroom furniture as opposed to buying new. This set (triple dresser, armoire and nightstand) is not only made better than today’s bedroom ensembles it’s already mine which means saving a bunch of money. So far this is what have I learned about stripping furniture:

It’s smelly

It’s time-intensive

It’s hard work

When I started this project my husband had found some old stripper in the garage (this is a perfect place for a cheesy joke but I’ll give you a break). He also found all the other supplies I needed because, well – we have everything in our garage that anyone would need for anything times 2, but THAT is the subject for another post. He outfitted me with thick rubber gloves, a special mask made just for filtering fumes, and protective goggles, and told me to go for it.

“I’ll start small”, I told myself and began with the nightstand. Wow – the power of chemicals!!!! I could just watch the paint dissolving before my eyes. 

Then I realized why I was wearing all this protective gear. This stuff would eat away at human skin. It was so cool to watch the paint crackle and bubble. However that enthusiasm didn't last long because basically the stripper does the work of loosening the finish; however the real work starts after the stripper has been lathered on.

Scraping, scraping, scraping. More stripper, more scraping. I had already painted this furniture in the past so there was a layer of paint, primer, poly and stain to go through. Once the wood was exposed it’s sanding, sanding, sanding. After sanding and cleaning you are ready for whatever finish you want to put on the piece. I decided on a satin black. So I put 2 coats of primer and about 2 – 3 coats of paint. Never paint bare wood that has not been primed. Obviously this was not done in one day. This is a multi-day project. So give yourself time. For me, since I'm still working, it was a multi-weekend project.

I had issues with the drawer pulls as well. They were nasty looking and too dark. In my alternate world of unlimited budget that I like to daydream in, I would have purchased some acrylic or Lucite pulls but since I am on a tight budget I decided to spray-paint the knobs. I bought a can of silver spray paint and went at it. And ya know? They look pretty damn good.

 Remember when spray-painting wear the latex gloves and stay out of the wind. Obviously I’ve made both mistakes before.

While we are on the subject of spray-paint…I had brass curtain rods up in the bedroom. I didn’t want to spend the money to buy new ones and did not want brass, so I just spray painted the old ones black.  This would not work if the curtains would be moved back and forth on a daily basis. Because I have blinds behind the curtains, they are stationary and don’t have to worry about the paint scraping off. Take a look at how my husband created a cool way for me to spray paint these little devils. He’s a genius!

With the pieces hanging it made it a breeze to spray paint.

So now the nightstand is done, pulls are done, and curtain rods are done.  The mammoth triple dresser was stripped this weekend and the stripping was definitely NOT sexy! It was a bear to strip. In the midst of all the stripping and scraping I was cussing at myself for not going to the furniture store and buying new. I wish I could blame someone else for this decision (like my husband) however I have to admit it was all me. Sometimes my bright ideas aren't too bright. I will forge on and complete this project but next time I'm going to Ethan Allen.

Ready for primer and paint. YEA!

Can you actually have fun painting a house?

No – not really. But it made a good title. Sorry for messin’ with ya. Painting is hard, tedious work but it is the least expensive and highest impact change to décor. I'm now mid-renovation for the master bedroom and believe me when I say it's much easier for me than it was 30 years ago.

What a mess. But it will be worth it in the end.

When we first moved into this house, I was a virgin.  Homeowner, that is. I was 30 so chances of me being the other kind of virgin were slim to none. Up until that time I was an apartment dweller and a bit nomadic as young people tend to be. So when my husband said, “Patti, go pick out the wallpaper, light fixtures, flooring, and paint for the house.” I was overwhelmed. Excited, but overwhelmed. I knew NOTHING about all this and predictably I made some horrible choices - with pretty much everything. I chose white carpet for god’s sake. Did I mention we live in Georgia?  The state with RED CLAY! I sucked at decorating a home – plain and simple.

We had a very good friend who was a contractor and was helping us with projects around the house when we first moved in. He was building an island in the kitchen as I was attempting to paint all the bedrooms (hideous colors by the way). One day I came downstairs and was in tears because I “ruined” the guest bedroom. He patiently walked upstairs with me and looked at my work. For some reason I thought lavender would be a good color choice. Must have had some sort of lack of good sense disease or something. Could have been the paint fumes. Anyway, I had it all over the ceiling and all over the trim. At that point, he made me back away from the roller and brush and took the time to show me some tips and tricks. I never looked back. And I changed the lavender.

He taught me how to use a trim brush so I never have to tape off. That in itself is invaluable. What a time saver! However, no matter how well he taught me to paint the walls and ceilings there was nothing he could do about the fact that when I’m finished painting I’ve pretty much got paint everywhere. I mean I end up with paint in places on my body, as a southerner would say, “Where the sun don’t shine”. How the hell does that happen? If I drip paint on the drop cloth it’s 100% sure I will step in it. I get it all over my clothes, hair and exposed skin but the job on the walls is superb. I have drawers of “painting and renovating” clothes. Mostly because I never listened to my husband when he told me to change into old clothes before I started painting, therefore I have ruined lots of clothes. Lots of them. I’m not exactly a quick study. Why can’t I be like the stars on TV who wear tight jeans, white tops and have absolutely no paint on them? Are you kidding me? They must roll on paint for the camera for 1 minute and then have the crew take over. I look like hell when I’m painting – no makeup, nasty clothes and old shoes. You should do the same. Be comfortable.

If you are a novice painter (like I was) there are a few other tips I’d like to share with you that will make your life easier when you take on a painting project.

• Wear latex or disposable gloves with a tight fit when you paint. I didn’t discover this until about a year ago. Don’t ask me why I didn’t think of this earlier. It makes SO much sense. Believe me – I have had paint in my fingernails and wedged in between all the wrinkles in my hands and fingers. Gloves are a must. Just dispose of them when you are done.  1,000 years from now, in some landfill, someone will find all my old painting gloves. Seriously.
• Use plastic roller tray liners. I will NEVER wash another roller pan again. When I dispose of them I fold them and tie it up in a plastic grocery bag. I’m sure the “green” police are starting to get alerted about all this but hey – these things are the BEST. I buy the contractor packs.
•  Use a handheld small container for cutting in and trim.  They sell them at the home improvement stores. Here is the best part – they make disposable liners for that too, which I also throw away in a plastic grocery bag. Please don’t picket my house. 

  

  Love to use this for painting trim

•  Invest in a good trim brush. I do take care of my brushes. I wash them thoroughly in warm soapy water and then carefully wrap them in paper towels to keep the bristles together as they dry. See…I do keep something!
• You can skimp on quality rollers for priming but buy a better one for the wall color paint. Here Is another thing re-users and recyclers will hate – When I am done with a roller I throw it away. Yep. I’m guilty. When I’m finished I put my hand in a plastic grocery bag, grab the roller, and pull it off the roller handle thingy. It will automatically be inside the grocery bag and your hands will be clean. Well clean physically however metaphorically I guess they are “dirty” because you didn’t recycle or re-use. Sigh…
• Canvas drop cloths are best, but if you don’t have them use old sheets doubled up (in case of spills and splats). While using these I place a large piece of hard cardboard (cut up box) on the sheet and leave the paint can, roller pan etc. on the cardboard. Throw it away after you’re done! Oops. Sorry recyclers. I should get some brownie points for re-using old sheets though.
•  Use a step ladder as opposed to a tall ladder. It’s much easier to handle, move around and perfect for 8 ft. ceilings. Use a small extender for the roller. If you have taller ceilings you will need a regular ladder and hopefully you have a hunk like Anthony Carillo (Kitchen Cousins) hanging around just to help you move it from place to place. Most of us don’t have an “Anthony”, so if you can, use a step ladder. And really, if Anthony was in your house why in the hell are you spending your time painting?

  

  My trusty stepladder. Note the paint drips.
  Yep - that's me!

•  Use cling wrap or zip lock bags to keep your brushes and rollers that are full of paint moist if you will need them again later that day. This is not for when you will be painting next weekend or next month though. If you won’t be getting back to the job within 24 hours suck it up and wash the brushes and plan on using a new roller.
•  Turn on your favorite music.  Sing and shake a tail feather as you paint. For heaven’s sake don’t shake the brush or roller – just your butt. It makes the process much more enjoyable. You may look and sound like a fool, but who cares?

I’m sure I have completely alienated myself from anyone who is earth friendly with my time and work saving tips; however painting is time-consuming hard work and anything that makes it easier is a good thing (now I sound like Martha Stewart). If you have hesitated to take on a paint project don’t. You can do it. Be sure to get the gloves though. Your hands will thank me later. 

What do you mean I didn’t win?

One characteristic of my personality that honestly some may find annoying is that I am forever the optimist. When things look down, I look up.  While others are finding all that is wrong with the world, I’m trying to find what’s right. Some people are Negative Nellies, I’m a Positive Patti. I forever see the pot at the end of the rainbow – or in this case The House at the end of the sweepstakes.

You know all those online contests that the home improvement networks have? The Dream Home, the Smart Home, Blog Cabin, Urban Oasis – I enter them all. Each day. Multiple times. And before you call the sweepstakes police, it’s allowed Nellie – so there!  And here’s the part MOST people (except me) find humorous. I even go so far as to check out the fine print of the Sweepstakes Rules to see when the prize patrol will be coming to my house to notify me that I’m the big winner. As I enter those contests, I fantasize how winning the prize will change our lives. I have detailed discussions with my husband (OK it’s mostly me talking and him nodding) regarding whether we should take the house or the cash prize. I mean I really think hard about this – it’s a big decision! He appeases me by pretending like he’s really paying attention, but I can see his sideways glances that say “She’s nuts and why in the world did I ever marry her?” Right now you are probably wondering why I’m not seeking help for this affliction, which I might actually be able to afford if I won one of these prizes!

Here’s the kicker. I'm always surprised when I don’t win. Then I get pissed. Yep. I do. How can my “number” never come up? My ship never come in? My luck never change? Sigh...

So right now I’m waiting for them to come knocking on my door to tell me that I won the Blog

Blog Cabin backyard. I'm perfect for this place!

Cabin. Phil and I could be very happy in Winter Haven, Florida. I’m convinced.  I’ll even put up with the mosquitoes. And by his silent nodding and glazed over eyes, I’m taking it that he agrees that a move would be a good idea. If time goes by and no van pulls up with balloons and a sign and a TV camera, I will be mad once again. I will curse at the TV shows and swear I’ll never get my hopes up again and then … I will get my trusty laptop and go ahead and enter the Urban Oasis Sweepstakes and wait for THAT prize patrol to come knocking sometime in November.  Surely I will win that one.

Who knew my mom was so hip?

My mom 2 months prior to passing away.

Have you ever seen that commercial where a couple sets a very cool, sleek and expensive Delta faucet in front of an architect and challenges, “Design a house around this!”? Well, that is kind of what has happened in regards to my master bedroom makeover and a pair of lamps. Yes, a pair of lamps -  a pair of 30 year old lamps.

I had mentioned previously that my mother recently passed away. March 16, 2014. She was 92 and loved beyond belief by her two daughters. She lived in a one bedroom condo in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida that she and my dad bought in the early 1980s. They decorated the small space precisely to their tastes and as of March 16, 2014 it looked exactly the same as it did in the 1980s. They were frugal, never frivolous.  Extremely generous and giving  to their children and grandchildren but allowed no waste, no unnecessary spending, and always had a bit in the savings account for that rainy day. Both of my parents lived through the Great Depression which affected them for the remainder of their lives and inadvertently affected my sister and me too. Neither of us had “cool” clothes to wear to school. While my peers were wearing Villager skirts and Bass Weejun loafers, I was wearing Sears and Roebuck and Thom McAn. While others were driving Firebirds or Cutlasses I was borrowing my dad’s old Corvair. We begged and pleaded but mom stood strong and did not spend over our means just to placate whining children.  It was a lasting gift my parents gave us - a good head on our shoulders in regards to money and that need to have a savings account for those storms that will undoubtedly come one day.

 In regards to decorating, my mom and dad liked clean lines and absolutely no clutter. They were SO excited when they purchased Lucite (looks like acrylic) tables and lamps for the living room and thought they were living high on the hog. They also purchased a “cat” sculpture made of tiny, dark grey and white pieces of mirror that sat upon the Lucite table like royalty and sparkled like a disco ball in the sunlight. “These were expensive!” they would exclaim every time my sister and I suggested they make a change.  Care was taken to never set any glasses on the tables without a napkin or coaster. Dad had glued felt on the bottom of the mirrored cat to avoid unwanted scratches on the precious Lucite. My mom bought a special cleaner especially made just for this furniture and the grandkids were not allowed to color or play on the tables. These were prized possessions.  Donna and I would snicker and think that the décor was “dated” and that Lucite was just a fancy name for plastic. Because – well you know we are just so much more “with it” than our parents. Don’t we all think that?

My dad died in 2000 and my mom continued to live in the condo and stay pretty active throughout the remainder of her life. She still hung on to those Lucite furnishings and mirrored cat with a vise-like grip and made us promise that if anything happened to her we would make sure we took those pieces. My sister and I used to have conversations about this and talk about what the hell we were going to do with these things if mom died. YOU take it – no YOU take it – no YOU take it and so forth and so on.

Well, Mom died. Still hard for me to realize. Still hard to say. It sticks in my throat (or keyboard in this case) and causes my eyes to brim. As we were going through the condo, packing the things we thought she would want us to have, Donna agreed to take the Lucite coffee table, end table and bookshelf. I came back to Georgia with the lamps and the cat.  My sister did some research online and not only found that these items are quite “in” right now but VERY valuable. I mean these lamps are worth about a major chunk of change! My daughter told me recently that she saw a sculpture resembling the “cat” with a price tag of $2000.00 on Rodeo Drive. Who would have thunk it? My Mom always thought she was hip and trendy and now my sis and I cannot disagree.

"Disco" Kitty

The lamps are my Delta faucet. I made the decorating plan for the bedroom around them. I would have done that even if they were not fashionable, chic, or pricey. They are part of my mom and dad and I cannot wait to have them lit in my new bedroom. The cat will find a prominent spot to once again “rule” with its prisms of light. Somehow I think Mom would be pleased.

The color palate in the bedroom will be shades of grey (not 50 though), black, white and with an accent color that I have not decided on yet. What do you think -  black or white lampshades? Let me know!

These lamps will eventually be placed on nightstands on each side of the bed.

Is it possible to give something old new life?

When my husband and I moved to Georgia over 29 years ago we dragged a lot of old furniture with us that was in our previous residence. Tucked in that moving van was an old bedroom set that was about 10 years old at that time – a triple dresser, armoire and nightstand. This bedroom suite was purchased by my husband before I was even a twinkle in his eye.  And honestly I never really liked it, but it’s all we had and it was functional for the time being. It had water rings scattered on the nightstand and on the dresser there were spots where the varnish had all but disappeared from splashes of my husband’s cologne. My thought was that we would keep this until we can get a new ensemble – something that I liked too. Well jump ahead 29 years and that same bedroom furniture is still taking up space in our master bedroom.  Things got in the way of my plan for new furniture … like having children. And then those children needed bedroom furniture and not just once – at least twice - from baby to young person! Their rooms looked better than ours and still do and they are not even living here anymore! WTF.

I made the attempt to paint the furniture once and did a crappy job.

It's hideous  - I know. But it will look great when I'm finished refinishing it (and clean off the top!).

Hey I’m honest. I did not strip the stain and varnish. I just sanded a bit and slopped some black paint on it. Frankly it looked worse. Now I was not only stuck with furniture I didn't like, but stuck with furniture that looked ghetto.

When I began thinking about renovating the bedroom I of course wanted to start with the furniture, and my impulse was to buy new. I did some research online, scanned sale fliers and even walked through furniture stores. I soon realized that I would never be able to afford a set with the quality of workmanship that the old one has - dovetailed drawers, real wood throughout the entire set and NO MDF in sight. The bottoms of the drawers are thick slabs of wood and are sturdy and reliable. Not like the kind of furniture you screw together where the bottoms of the drawers sag and sometimes fall out of the little slots that were meant to hold them in place. The only screws in this furniture are where the drawer handles meet the wood.

Nightstand is done and looks great!

So this time I have decided to strip it to the bare wood and repaint it. I’m painting the triple dresser and nightstand black and the armoire white. Stripping, sanding and then priming before painting - yes – this time I’m doing it right. I’m using latex enamel with a satin finish. 

I now realize saving and caring for this furniture is a metaphor for other things that are old – namely people.  Even though we may show our age, we still have some admirable qualities that can still be of worth. Just like the old bedroom furniture, we need a little work on the outside, but once you strip down to the actual stuff we're made of you discover we're tough, resilient and valuable. I decided not to discard but to re-imagine these pieces of furniture with a new finish and proudly showcase them in our master suite. Sometimes giving something old new life is the right thing to do!

Hey! George Hamilton - Are you having the same problems?

My plan was to create a video this weekend featuring the process of stripping a triple dresser. My husband and I strategically planned  how we were going to manage moving it out of a 2^nd story bedroom to the front wraparound porch to strip and sand the entire piece in preparation for painting. I was gearing myself up to learn how to use YouTube. I was doing crunches, lifting weights and choosing my wardrobe for the shoot that included some cleavage (I’m kidding, didn’t do any of that and cleavage at my age includes breast wrinkles!) We were ready for our “close-up”.  And then – sigh - the life of a more “mature” adult gets in the way.

That's me - young, tan and foolish.

Phil and I moved to Georgia from Florida 29 years ago. I was a Florida girl for over 20 years and still

consider the Sunshine State my real home. I spent most of my time in my teens and twenties in the sun. Our idea of sunscreen at the time was a bottle of Coppertone advertising the precocious, little blonde tot and the black cocker spaniel pulling down her bottoms. But I, along with most kids, slathered my body with baby oil which created the effect of bacon sizzling in a skillet. The bacon being me. My best friend Randee and I used to increase the amount of sun our faces would absorb by using reflecting shields. Stupid. My husband did much of the same and now we are both paying for our mistakes. Me, with my sagging skin, hands that look 100 years old, and a bout with a melanoma, and my husband with basal cell carcinoma. Phil had skin cancer surgery (Mohs) last week on his face and will have another round of surgery this week as well. They have suggested that he not lift anything heavy. Well – that leaves out the dresser for sure. Those George Hamilton tans come with a hefty price tag.

Sometime this week I will be posting reflections regarding this furniture and other pieces that will be included in our master bedroom makeover. Our cinematic debut will have to wait.

P.S. The headboard and storage bench were delivered. Walmart did not disappoint. The headboard is fabulous. Elegant and luxurious. The storage bench is acceptable. The old adage of you get what you pay for is certainly true. Although I would have liked the bench to be a bit more padded and well-made, it was worth the $99.00.

Not bad for $99.00

This will STAY covered with plastic until there is not one ounce of wet paint in the entire area!

Is it possible to have a love/hate relationship with Walmart?

Let me just say I am not a fan of shopping at Walmart. I know, I know – things are definitely cheaper there, and they employ a lot of people, and everything you could possibly need is stuffed into one building, and they have that catchy little “rollback” thing going on with the smiley face – BUT -  I seem to get aggravated the moment I step through the automatic doors and am inundated by the claw machines with the toys inside, a million shopping carts and the senior citizen known as the “Walmart Greeter”. I’m not sure where this negative relationship between Walmart and me started. It could be that every time I try and find something there I end up at the opposite side of the store where it is located, have to walk 2 miles (ok a bit of hyperbole but it FEELS like 2 miles) and wander around trying to find what I’m looking for. And then I start getting aggravated. Possibly my true fear is that someone will take a picture of my butt in stretchy shorts and I will end up on that horrible People of Walmart website and branded a Walmart shopper. THAT would be tragic.

Well I have to start choosing my attitude towards Walmart because I actually made a purchase from them that I love. Now granted it was online and I didn't have to deal with finding it in the store but I really do love the item. It was a headboard. I ordered it when we revamped and redecorated our in- law suite. I ordered a full sized headboard and figured if I didn't like it I could return it to the neighborhood store. As much as I would have dreaded the return process I clicked “confirm purchase” and kept my fingers crossed. Well surprise, surprise. I really like it. Yes – we had to put it together, but it was a breeze and it was only $80 and it looks good – really, it does.

So I decided when I started looking for a headboard for my new low budget master bedroom design I started with Walmart online. I found exactly what I was looking for in a matter of minutes. May I say that shopping online is AWESOME – a true modern miracle. However, that is the subject for a whole other post so back to the headboard. This particular headboard I chose happened to be the most expensive headboard too which may have defeated the purpose of shopping at Walmart. I get the irony in that – I do. Nonetheless, I ordered a charcoal-grey, upholstered headboard for a king bed and it was $379 – a HUGE piece of my $1000 budget for the master bedroom.  Rationalizing to my husband I exclaimed, “But the shipping is free!” and followed that up with my charming smile that frankly doesn't work on him anymore. In fact – let’s be honest. After 29 years of marriage that hasn't worked in quite a while. He’s on to me. But I feel that this is a statement piece in the bedroom and worth the cost.

After he recovered from the price of the headboard I added quickly, “and I got a GREAT deal on a storage bench for the foot of the bed. Only $99!!!” So my advice is hit ‘em hard with the worst news first and then everything else after that is a piece of cake. Really. Try it. My children have been watching this strategy for a long time and actually as I now think about it I realize – DAMN. They have been using that on ME! Payback is hell.

Well right now I’m waiting for my treasures to be delivered. I will let you know how it all turns out and if I have to make a trip to the local Walmart to return them.

P.S. I WON’T be wearing stretchy shorts!

Nicole Curtis...can I be you?

I don’t know exactly when the obsession began. Possibly watching Nicole Curtis re-do the Dollar House or perhaps watching Anthony Carrillo renovating kitchens with his cousin (have you SEEN their bodies??? Hubba hubba). Sorry – I digress – I confess I am an HGTV and DIY junkie.  Though I don’t know what sparked my fire, I have developed a deep passion for renovation. From learning the ins and outs, to mimicking DIY techniques, to undertaking large scale renovations – I love it all. Taking something ugly and making something beautiful. Or maybe it’s making something my own. How cool is that? Now let’s be clear – I am no Nicole Curtis in any sense of the word. If you don’t know who she is you should. She is a hot blonde about 20+ years younger than me with a killer body, great hair and triceps and abs to die for. I, on the other hand, am a 60 year old who covers her grey, has a sagging body, thinning hair and triceps that flap in the wind. I won’t mention the abs. Depressing. Nicole’s a steamroller of a rehabber with a strong Midwestern accent which I would suspect annoys most people. In fact when my sister watches her show, Rehab Addict, my brother-in-law makes her wear headphones so he doesn't have to listen to Nicole’s nasal twang. But for me her voice reminds me of my childhood which was in and around the Chicago area and it is nostalgic to me. If I didn't respect the work she was doing rehabbing old homes and enjoy listening to her walk us through her renovations I suppose I would have to decide to hate her because she is so beautiful and accomplished and young and fit and… OK OK I’m jealous. Alright? It’s allowed. Puhleeze!

So part of this blog will be discussing renovations that my husband and I are currently working on within our 30 year old home. And unlike TV, it doesn't take place in an episode. THEY TAKE FOREVER!!! When I see an article in a magazine or a commercial on HGTV that states, “A quick renovation that can be done in a weekend”, I’m gonna be honest. I get a little pissed. They don’t consider the 12 times you had to go BACK to the home improvement store because you bought the wrong size or color or possibly you ruined the first one, or you didn't buy enough, or maybe you realized you didn't have all the parts and the list goes on and on. They also leave out trips to the hospital (more on that in another post) and don’t tell you that you get pretty darn tired doing this stuff and maybe can’t put in 14 hours a day BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT 30-SOMETHING LIKE ALL THE PEOPLE THEY SHOW ON TV!!!!! Whew. I’m glad I got that off my chest.

A "before" shot of the bedroom. Everything in there is ancient-
and not in a good way.

I am currently working on our master bedroom. This is the bedroom where both our children were conceived and unfortunately not much has changed décor-wise since then, which wouldn't be an issue if our kids were not GROWN ADULTS! In other words – it’s way overdue for a remodel. I am refinishing furniture, repainting, redecorating and will take you through the process with me from before to after. The work must be completed on the weekends because – hey – I’m still working at the middle school until January. When I come home from work I just want a nice cold glass of Pinto Grigio and relax and try to forget about the kid that screamed at the teacher or the student that didn't understand slapping a girl on the butt is wrong or the parent that cussed me out on the phone or the teacher that is upset at his/her evaluation or the child that is being abused or neglected or – or - or - it’s never-ending.

Hats, flashlight and aloe will NOT be a part of the new design!

Did I mention how much I love Pinot Grigio? The Best. Now I don’t condone drinking until you vomit but having a couple of glasses of wine in the evening is right up my alley. So right now I’m going to sign off, place my tired squished-into-pumps-feet up, enjoy my glass of wine, and watch some HGTV. I’ll tell you more about the bedroom in the next post. It’s gonna be amazing when I’m finished and all for a budget of $1000.00. I sound like a commercial for HGTV.

Oh my.

Does aging HAVE to suck?

I’m going say it upfront - loud and proud. Right now I have no idea what I’m doing as far as blogging is concerned and I find myself once again at the bottom of the learning curve. But that’s OK. It certainly isn’t the first time I have had to learn something new and taken a chance and I hope to God it’s not the last. That would mean that I’m not trying - growing – breathing - and that I’m stagnant. Being stagnant like a pond without flow is what I am desperately trying to avoid. Besides I have enough unwanted things growing on my body - I certainly don’t need ALGAE!  Seriously though I have been contemplating making a change, renovating our house, reinventing myself, and reimagining what life can become because…

Today

I

turn

60.

Ouch.

As my mother would say (who just passed away at 92), “That’s still young!” However standing in my shoes right now, with my ingrown and fungus toenail, my bunion and my artificial hip I’m not feeling the “young” part. What is it with celebrities that espouse the virtues of being a women of later age? “It’s the best time of my life!” – “I’ve never felt better!” – “Being older is great!” Really????? They fail to tell you that they have had plastic surgery, have personal trainers, professional make-up artists and a hairdresser at their beckoned call. Hmmpf. I’d look damn good too if I had all that! Now granted I’m still thrilled that I’m still alive and kickin’. But it has been a stretch for me to think that this is the BEST part of my life. Sooooooo… that is how this blog has evolved. I sincerely DO want this age to be the best part of my life. And never being one to shy away from a challenge, I must figure out HOW to make that happen because it sure the hell isn’t going to happen without some help from me. I read an interview with Jane Fonda, who is a fabulous 76, and she described her age as “My 3^rd Act”. If you do the math this is my 3^rd Act - the last third of my life if I’m lucky enough to live to ninety. I could let that be fricking depressing but I am choosing to be proactive and hoping to make it exciting and challenging and when I say challenging I mean that in a good way. Not in the way that means it’s challenging to get out of bed in the morning because of all the aches and pains!

I am in the process of semi-retiring. It will be official January 1^st. I say “semi” because I still have to earn some income besides my pension. I have 16 years with a school system which is certainly not a full pension but I have decided it’s time for me to leave. My current position is as an Assistant Principal at a middle school. Yeah. Now you feel sorry for me doncha? Damn right. If you have ever dealt with a middle schooler you know what I’m talking about. It’s a stress mill. Recently, I lined up all my school pictures starting with when I began my mid-life career as a teacher at the age of 44 and observed how I have aged since I took the job as an AP 7 years ago. Wow. It’s scary. It’s like the Presidents. They start out all bright –eyed and handsome and when they leave they are haggard and defeated and have wrinkles the depth of the Grand Canyon. Well I’m trying to get out before the light goes out in my eyes and my wrinkles and lines form a network of trenches around my face. So… that begs the question….What Next????

Stay tuned….