Off with the Old

The most difficult, tedious, and messy job in refinishing furniture is stripping off the old paint and varnish. For this piece of furniture, that's complicated even further by the old contact paper plastered over everything. First, Claye tried peeling that off. It worked for a little while, but then the pieces began to break, so we used a razor blade scraper. That was risky, because it kept catching on one thing or another and it was easy to make little cuts in the wood. So I just poured on the stripper.

Lo and behold! The contact paper just bubbled up like old paint and could be pushed off with a putty knife. I found an old box in the garage and began to dump in scoops of paint and plastic, being careful not to tug at it too vigorously and splash it into my eye. This stuff is slimy.

Finally, I applied a layer to all the rest of the furniture and let it set for at least twenty minutes, being careful to wear a glove. If a spot of the stuff gets on the skin, it begins to burn right away and burns until you go wash it off. Rubbing it off with a rag helps too, because the stuff works best in a thick puddle and not spread thinly.


Tomorrow: Elbow Grease

Turning ugly old junk into useful furniture

Now isn't that a bright idea?
Last summer, when my dad needed to clear out a storage building, he asked all of us if we wanted any of the old furniture. I picked out a couple of pieces--one for sentimental value. (It was my daughter's little wardrobe and I thought I might could make a toy cabinet for my grandchildren) and the other because it looked like it would make a good "fly-tying cabinet" for my husband, whose blog name is Turtle, aka Turtle the Fearless.

Anyway, here's the cabinet with its three heavy coats of paint--green, black, and sunshine yellow. There's a kind of contact paper on the top and it's going to be a mess to scrape off, but underneath--ah there you can see real wood.

I hope it's salvageable, but for tying flies it really doesn't have to look like Ethan Allen. I'll have to replace the hardware, of course, although that wire handle does add a little charm of its own.

Here's a record of my daily progress:
Off with the Old
Elbow Grease 
Little by Little 
Sanding 
Staining 
Finally Finished Furniture

Friction

It's obviously the people's conviction
That our congress runs better with friction
A well-oiled machine
Though ostensibly clean
Is a piece of political fiction

Another Tea Party

  

Cute little kids can force their uncles and aunts
to do practically anything. Here they are,
out in the cool fall air, sipping vanilla
chai tea with cream and sugar.

...and of course making polite conversation in all the proper accents.

Running low on supplies, they send a couple of party members to the kitchen supervisor for more tea.

Hey! who invited the reporters?

The younger set have a unique formula that

uses equal parts of cream, sugar, and tea.

It's cool enough for jackets but not enough for shoes. I guess that's how you know they have inherited a few genes from this family.

Uncle Elijah is the life of the tea party

Gonna Bake Brownies Today...

Dare I?
Oh yeah.

For the last two months I've been on a self-imposed sugar-free diet that was scared into me through the watching of a youtube lecture by an obscure nutritionist. He warned of the dangers of high fructose corn syrup and fearlessly exposed the hidden agendas of coke companies who have plotted to turn the world into little gaseous blimps of obesity with arms and legs.

I figured that since school had started with a crazy rush of activity, and I only had time and energy to exercise once or twice a week, I had to do something or I would gain back the hard fought two pounds (four if I took off my shoes) I had managed to lose over the spring and summer by sticking to a grueling schedule of exercise:  walking, working out, climbing stairs, and even swimming with the ancient "water walkers" up at the city pool.
Sad, isn't it.
So, barring the very occasional relapse into a donut sin, I've kept my resolve, and I plan to keep it up. (Except for Thanksgiving Day...because I figure I daren't disdain all the God-given deserts after I've been so thankful for them.) And I've managed to lose another four pounds.
(And don't you dare make the obvious comment that my muscle turning to flab would account for that or I'll mark your comment as spam and report it to the blog police!)

Brownies are calling my name.
And I have no fear,  for they are sugar-free brownies, and there is sugar-free frosting to put on them.
We found them at the end of the well-stocked cake mix aisle at the supermarket. See for yourself: There are now sugar free vanilla and chocolate mixes. True, there is no great variety yet--no cream cheese icing for pumpkin-spice cake, nor gingerbread or pineapple--but I'm dreaming of the day when they will all be there.

Meanwhile, we've experimented a little over the past few weeks. The chocolate cake is a little dry, but it moistens nicely with applesauce in the mix. The vanilla cake--turned into cupcakes and made with applesauce instead of oil--is palatable, but problematic in the gastro-intestinal side effect domain. (In short, if you eat five or six of them, you need to seek out a lonely island instead of company, and you will understand how a volcano feels.)

But the brownies...well...they are nearly perfect. Today, I'm baking brownies!

Lots of Little Visitors this Evening

We've had lots of little visitors this evening. First, we hear the slam of a car door, then a few excited squeals, adult cautionary voices, and the fast pitter patter of strange feet coming up the sidewalk. We've had bugs and princesses, cheerleaders and super heroes. Most are carrying light sticks and little sacks for candy, which is appealing to them, but not any more than being able to ring the doorbell and wait for a benevolent human with a bowl of candy bars in her hands. Most of the little ones are already eating candy; it creates a sticky mask across their upturned faces.

The adults hovering behind these creatures remind them if they don't say thank you fast enough, and grab them before they dart into the street. A few older ones have been unaccompanied, but even those waited patiently while I doled out the reward.

This little lady was quite elaborate in her pirate costume. Whatever she was wearing, I think it involved too many layers, because she looked a little warm...maybe it was just from running from door to door. Her brother said he was a jester, but he looked like a harlequin to me

All evening I kept surprising those who knew me from our Wednesday night church program for children.
"Hey! You're the story lady! I didn't know where you lived!"
Well, now they do, and I think that's a good thing.






Now they know a safe house in the neighborhood. The candy corn girl, cheerleader, and lollipop-licking superman go to our church. I invited them in so I could see their costumes better and decided to start taking pictures.

It is cool outside, but by no means cold. In short, a perfect evening for some family fun. Around here it's all a treat.

Fiery Monday

I drove to work on Monday toward a fiery sky and discovered that I had thirty minutes to spare, since I had forgotten we had a teacher's meeting at 8:00 and school was starting an hour late. So, ignoring the few minutes I could have used to do some intensive planning for the day, I promptly joined the cook, a good friend of mine, to walk about three blocks over and investigate a burning house. There were fire-fighting vehicles parked all along the street, and, to my surprise, I recognized most of the firemen who were cleaning up the last remains of the burned-out, building, which, fortunately, had been vacant when the fire erupted early that morning. Some were former students of mine.

"Sure", they said, "You can walk a little closer. Mind the hoses."
So we approached and snapped a couple of pictures of the ruins, the smoke, the embers, and the heroes.

Architectural Fads

My husband received a free, promotional magazine called Dwell. It's full of this type of home. Boxes and more boxes I say. Reminds me of the seventies somehow.

I'm not sure what modern architecture is trying to copy. Trailer houses? Freight cars? Abandoned warehouses? These all come to mind when I see what the trendies are offering. Today, I saw a link on Yahoo and followed it to see these similar modern homes, the least expensive of which still runs over seven million dollars. You may think they are beautiful, but I'm a traditionalist, I guess. Give me an old English cottage any day, or a Victorian mansion, or a real Spanish hacienda home. I think living in some of these would feel like living in a toll booth, a bank, or a fancy chicken coop. Check these out. While you're at it, look at the prices. http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/its-a-mod-mod-world.html

Mercy Drops

Mercy drops round us are falling...
but for the showers we plead.

I drove toward this horizon on my way to work this morning. Such paltry little sprinkles only tease the parched ground and add to the drawn look in the eyes of our farmers. We need rain.

Likeways, we seem to be facing a drought of true spirituality in this land--many cries of "Lord, Lord" but very few changed lives. "Love your neighbor" is a popular message; "Keep My commands," not so much.  We need rain.

Summer is Hanging on, but Falling Nonetheless...

I went walking early this morning, because I no longer have time during the week, and I'm terrified that I'll gain more weight...I know, it's beautiful outside and the air is refreshing, but If it weren't for fatness, I'd talk myself out of it, or into taking a drive instead. That's how lazy I really am. Oh well, all the confessions aside, I went walking early this morning.
Up by the courthouse I enjoyed looking at this sky and taking a picture. In fact, I took a lot of pictures, so here are a few of them. You can see that it was quite a bit lighter by the time I got home. Somehow that's what always happens when I take the camera along.

I'm enamored with the beauty of sunlight and shadow on trees, and stop to rest my eyes on clusters like this, where they huddle in creek beds.

These no longer wear clear spring green, nor yet the intense dark green of summer, but they are clad in a pale, dying green, a green already fading into dull brown fall.

There were a few brave flowers still in color,
but most have succumbed to the drought and look pretty pathetic.

Even the poison ivy has gone all red
and it snakes around the tree trunks
with a languor that makes it look
innocent and inviting.
We know better.

In some of the tree tops--already bare--birds
congregate to ponder upcoming travel plans
and watch the contrails high overhead.
Perhaps they are wistful.

Just the Essentials

God

Power

Mystery

Light

Promise

Perseverance

Beauty

Belonging

Challenge

Hope

Love

Wonder

Pumpkin Festival Pictures

I don't really know what made this pink smoke, but it certainly impressed the grandchildren. In fact they were impressed with every little rinky dinky game and booth. We had a great time! As we walked up there they kept asking me: "So why are we walking up here?" and on the way home Mim got tired. A few blocks from home she kept saying: "I'm too tired, Grandma." So I encouraged her and told her she could take a nap on the guest bed when we got home. She suddenly smiled and said: "That's not the kind of tired I meant." After that, she perked up and we made it home in no time. Since then, they've played fishville, made fancy cards, eaten cupcakes, made a cat puppet out of a paper sack, eaten snacks, watched The Little Mermaid, and played with their balloons. I've finished grading one set of quarter exams and washed one load of dishes. Right now Mim is trying to talk Zaya into doing a puppet show from behind the couch, but he says that would be embarrassing. His puppet's name is Vil and hers is Naomi.