sweaters, shorts, and belated Valentine's Day gifts

Life has been busy (isn't it always?). Midterms took over both of us for awhile, MQ is busy at the NICU and I'm working on a big statistics project that is leading to undo amounts of stress and panic.

Nevertheless, many a craft has been happening in the Quinn home lately. . . . so much so, that my blogging can't even keep up. Sewing machine makeovers, monogrammed sweaters, shorts inspired by swimsuit dying extravaganzas, month-late Valentine's gifts, and an impromptu weekend trip that involved a new bathroom cabinet made from salvaged barn wood. . . . . it's very exciting stuff, my friends.

Here's the very brief rundown:

1. So, several months ago, I encountered some major issues with my sewing machine. Michael and his dad were able to remove it from the machine in hopes we could get her fixed up somewhere. (full disclosure: I was pretty certain his dad would be able to fix it himself. I mean, cars aren't all that different from sewing machines, right? apparently not.). Turns out, it's much more expensive to fix a motor from the 1960's than just buy a new one. A special thanks to my father-in-law who found and purchased a beautiful new motor for us that is not only super quiet, but it now has adjustable speeds making my sewing life much easier.  

 

Isn't she beautiful? It runs perfectly and is my most prized possession these days.

 

2. Monogrammed sweater. Love it. want all my sweaters to have a felt monogrammed K's on them. Michael says one is enough.

3. After my swimsuit dye job turned out so swimmingly, Michael was inspired to use the remaining dye to turn a pair of thrift store khaki pants into bright teal shorts. A knock-off version of what's selling for about $60 at the GAP these days that will most certainly be out of style by next summer; completed for about $3.

They're cute. Bright, but cute.

4. That same week (he saves up all his crafting for his spring break, I guess), I finally received my Valentine's Day gift (never mind it's tardiness. . . . better late than never, right?).

Those are our silhouettes, cut out of book pages, and adhered to a piece of wood. He watered-down some gray paint to give the wood a nice gray tint but keep the wood grain visible.

 I love it. It will be a perfect piece of art for my desk at school. Can never have too many book crafts at one desk, right? 

5. Saturday we decided to take a very last-minute trip to Scandinavia, WI to visit Michael's brother and his wife. . . . . and to steal wood from their barn and turn it into a new bathroom cabinet. It's so close to being done - but it needs a good stain/polyurethane coat or two. I'll fill you in on that entire project soon.

We used power tools, my friends. This is a huge step in our crafting careers.

swimsuit dye job

I, like I'm guessing many women, have a hard time finding a good fitting, flattering swimsuit. I have a short torso, for one. So, the second I put on a two-piece I suddenly look about 3 feet tall. I also don't exactly have the biggest bottom so I often get what I call "diaper butt." There is at least a handful of extra fabric hanging and sagging back there and it's just not cute.

Last year I found this suit and have been relatively pleased with it. It fit and didn't look terrible, which are really my only criteria.

Then, we ran into major problems. The colors bled. The once bright white stripes turned light blue, it looked like I had been wearing it for the past decade when really I'd worn it twice.

I tried to return it to no avail.

 ("you already wore it . . . " yes, I realize that. but it's obviously pretty terrible quality . . . )

In an effort to save her, I brought out my trusty bleach pen. . . . and made it worse.

Problem was, I couldn't just do the little areas that were now light blue - because the bleach pen made them more of a dingy ugly white than the bright white the other parts were.

It's not as evident in the photo, but basically, it's unwearable in this condition.

BUT -  it fits. and I just got it last summer and don't feel like spending money on a new one this year. Mostly, I don't want the hassle of spending hours searching the internet or standing in dressing rooms trying to find something equally mediocre.

So Michael, my brilliant crafting partner in crime recommended I dye it. Dye a swimsuit, you say? Yes.

Spandex and nylon, however, aren't exactly dye friendly. Everything I read online said it wouldn't work. It'd be blotchy, it would ruin the shape of the suit if it requires heat setting, and people even recommended fabric paint.

I went for it anyway, with nothing to lose.

I did a test run on another suit I'll show you later, but ultimately ended up going with a teal Rit liquid dye.

A bucket of hot water, a 1/3 cup of salt, about 1/3 of the bottle of dye and about 40 minutes of constant stirring later . . . .

this is what we've got.

I rinsed it out in cold water and then threw it in the wash alone just to get any extra dye out.

It's cute enough - I don't love it though. I appreciated the preppiness of the original blue and white combination, although Michael thinks teal/blue combo looks vintage, which I can also appreciate.

 It's fine enough that it will save me time and money looking for a new suit for the season. I am going to have it soak in a sink of water for a few hours just to make sure it doesn't bleed. I'm having visions of turning my in-law's pool water teal come June.

girl breaks down. boy puts back together again.

(warning: it'll take me a minute and seem a little random, but i swear it will all come together and relate to my valentine's day craft. just stick with me, here)

it has been said, in my life, that i have tendencies toward perfectionism.
and anxiety.

and, let me tell you, when things are constantly happening imperfectly (as they do in such an imperfect world) and nothing ever happens exactly as planned (as they shouldn't when you can't control others around you, nor life events in general - despite one's best efforts), it's easy to become quickly overwhelmed.

i am easily swallowed up in my thinking about success and perfectionism and to constantly feel not quite good enough is exhausting. . . . . and graduate school isn't exactly the place to go to feel better.

it's easy to suddenly feel incompetent, like you don't have enough focus, and haven't found an advisor fast enough, and must be the only one that has ever found biostatistics to be incomprehensible at times, and you are the only one to have yet to publish  . . . meanwhile your fellow students have things together and are super intelligent and somehow are managing to survive this crazy place with ease. and outside those walls your other friends actually have social lives, and are getting exciting jobs, moving up in the world, having babies, affording new cars and buying houses. . . . .

i quickly spiral into a tizzy of tears and worries and what started as "i had a bad meeting with my possible advisor this morning" soon becomes " . . . i'm going to fail out of school soon and we'll be poor, in debt, and unhappy, and i may as well complete our food stamp and public housing applications tonight" (which, of course, are already saved in pdf form on my desktop).


 . . . . . . . ok. so "tendencies" toward anxiety might be a bit generous.

but to feel a left behind and not-so-perfect in both worlds is hard. and for some reason that matters to me.

and for michael . . . he couldn't care less.

he says that he'd be happy with just me, living in this little apartment, with our mountains of student loans, unable to ever afford kids or buy a house, or go on fancy vacations. his life plans lack the strict deadlines mine has. he says he doesn't care what our friends are doing and that whatever happens in our life is how things are supposed to be.

he says it every. single. time.

 and you know, i'm actually starting to think he means it.


(note to self: apparently, not everyone views life as a race and competition)

sigh . . . i tell you all of this because it was the impetus of my valentine's present. which, despite it being a disaster, i thought i'd share, since my crafting is otherwise nonexistent these days.

so a few weeks ago my sister pinned this and never in my life has something summed far too many of my evenings as well as this.

and i immediately went to etsy to purchase it, only to see the nearly $400 price tag. ouch.

so i've sat around thinking about how i could make something with the saying on it myself.

and then i saw this. a beautifully stenciled pillow. both chic and useful.

it was perfect. i could stencil this onto a a little throw pillow for our bed. . . . .

only, it didn't turn out quite like that at all.

for starters, it was just far too many words for a little pillow. so although i attempted to fit it all in, that failed. so the front side is far too squished. and then it ends on the back, which looks ok - but is more spaced out than i wanted.

i just couldn't win with this one.

oh well. my not-so-perfect craft from a not-so-perfect girl is good enough for michael.

it can be hard to realize plans don't work out just so - that your path in life is not the same as those around you - that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

and not only is that ok, it's perfect.

Paper flowers in my hair

I had the most genius idea. . . . ok, Pinterest did, but I'm taking some credit. Remember when Michael made me these flowers out of old books (which now sit ever so beautifully on my desk at school)? What if he made me smaller flowers - and then I hot-glued them to bobby pins? Ta-da! Beautiful new hair pieces for me. I mean, who doesn't want recycled books in their hair?

Here's where the inspiration came from.

I saw this on Pinterest and actually thought these were on a bobby pin! Turns out, it was just a similar project to Michael's first one. But I was so excited about it I decided that needs to happen in my life.

Krista from Sew Inspired gives a really great tutorial on how to make them and while I'm going to leave the flower making to MQ, I am definitely going to be wandering around Mil-town with this in my hair soon.

Of course, there are some practical problems. It can't rain. Or snow for that matter because wilted, smeared, crumpled pieces of book on a bobby pin and much less cool. I also can't wear a hat and it probably can't be too windy. But, on that first sunny, calm, spring day, you better believe I'll be rocking this.

"working" from home

As much of a workaholic as I can be sometimes (and as crazy as it drives Michael to let me work away many a night and weekend), I must admit I often find it difficult to begin the actual work - when I work from home at least (which, this semester, is most days).

I was awake several hours ago, and my morning has included: a workout, cleaning the floors, organizing a few things in my closet, cleaning up my desk, and now aimless wandering across the internet.

Here I sit. A stack of books and papers. A to-do list that could possibly push me to the brink of a nervous breakdown if I look at it any longer. Pens and highlighters neatly lined up. Diet Coke in hand.

Ready to begin.

Maybe it's because I know once I start I just won't be able to pull myself away and suddenly 10am on a Friday morning will be 9pm and I will be in this exact same spot and suddenly realize I haven't stood up in several hours, I forgot to eat both lunch and dinner and am now starving, and my ever-patient husband will expect to have a conversation with me at some point in the day. . . . . .

In other life news: have you ever gotten an idea, seen a project on Pinterest you loved (story of my life) and thought "perfect. that's my next craft." And then you dig in and realize that yours is going to be in no way as cool looking as your inspiration? I've been feeling oh-so-defeated over my most recent secret Valentine's Day craft that I would show you, but I want to preserve the slightest bit of dignity.

It's almost humorous, actually -it looks like a third grader did it. Michael might have to settle for a hug on Valentine's Day - and, if he's lucky, an evening without work.

MWF seeking BFF . . . .

seriously. 

not only is that a legitimate statement for my current state of being, but it's the title of a book I MUST buy.

Rachel Bertsche moved to Chicago to be with her boyfriend (now husband) and with her friends scattered throughout the country, she struggled to make new friends as an adult. You work full time, have life to deal with, errands to run, and are also married - how do you even find time for friends? 

Rachel was on WPR this evening (check it out on the At Issue with Ben Merens audio archives) -she seemed so wonderful and decided I would definitely be her friend if I was in Chicago (and that my Chicago friends should find her). She was so nice and funny, plus, I'm sure she'd love Brian. 

So, how did she make friends? 

Friend dates. Lots of them. Did you know they even do speed dating for friends!? And she even went as far as writing notes and leaving her number on receipts at restaurants if she thought the waitress would make a good friend. I mean, who does that!? 

Truth is: I'm terrible at making friends. I can be really shy. And nervous. And awkward. And quite. Michael, on the other hand, is excellent at friend making. With everyone. Everywhere. It's a trait I long for but, alas, maybe that's we work well together. 

You can follow Rachel's blog and read more about her friending adventures. 

Paper flowers

Aren't these beautiful?

Paper bouquet. Made from recycled books. From my love. 

They'll be perfect on my desk at school. 

99% serenity with just a touch of academia. Just what I need. 

 . . . . . And the exact opposite of my current state. 

A pair of chairs

Remember how after I finished my most recent "Christmas present for Michael" chair I decided it needed an identical twin (because you can never have too many yellow chairs, right?)? 

It looked so small and kind of naked in our living room and I figured having two would look cute. It was easy enough to re-do so I started a Craigslist hunt for one similar.

And for just $10 this one could be mine. Perfect. I'll take it. 

So we drove a good 30 minutes (at least!) to pick it up and then I had immediate Craigslist buyers remorse and had a slight panic attack on Vic's front porch.

Problem #1: I hated it. Too big. Too ugly. To bizarre looking. Plus, highly likely that squirrels or some other animal were recently living in/on it. 

Problem #2: Extensive Catholic guilt meant I couldn't not buy it. I mean, Vic was a really nice old man, likely about to move into a retirement home, and we drove a half hour and it was only $10, and he was so cute and nice . . . . what else could I do?

It wasn't that bad - it just wasn't quite what I was looking for. Plus, it was a rocking chair. 

Yeah. It rocks. . . . I thought it was broken at first, but no, it's meant to be like that. You're supposed to sit down and feel like you're about to fall backwards. . . . 

Sigh . . . we loaded her up and I pouted the whole way home.

Got her inside, stripped her down immediately, checked for evidence of squirrels, bedbugs, mold, and all other disgusting things it's quite possible you'll find on Craigslist purchases. She was clean. 

I decided to work on it, and if I didn't like it, just sell it. No use it letting her go to waste at that point. 

Given my anti-excitement about this chair, I worked quickly, quietly, and without documentation. 

Completed her within the week. 

Came up with this:

It's a cute chair and I do like it (I mean, it is basically identical to my number one love so it's slightly bizarre that I'm still so undecided about it). The rocking was minimized slightly so it's not quite so startling when you sit down, and I suppose it's not as big as I was originally thinking. 

We spent a good 45 minutes rearranging furniture. Turning tables and couches and chairs every which way, trying to decide where it belongs.

 I'm wondering if maybe the room is just too small for all my beloved chairs. 

(The original is on the right, new rocker is on the left . . . and I tried to vote to put our suitcase coffee table away but that was immediately vetoed . . . )

sigh . . . I don't know. Maybe you can have too many yellow chairs in one room?

In the meantime, they're staying. We may be experiencing daily furniture rearranging - but already they're growing on me as a couple. 

Classes start again tomorrow, meaning I'll be on a crafting and upholstering hiatus. For four months.   Maybe I can find a small project or two to keep me sane in the meantime.

Au Revoir, old friend

I sold the first chair I ever upholstered this morning. . . . . it was bittersweet. 

We just didn't have the space in our living room anymore (thanks to our new addition) and there are currently 3 other recently upholstered chairs (and one waiting to be redone) in our basement so I figured it was about time to clear some space (I mean, we can both be hoarders in this relationship, can we?). 

I think I found a good family to enjoy it. They came. Looked. Sat. Loved it. 

Said it'd be a perfect reading chair in their office. 

Then we creeped out the window, through the blinds, and took photos on our phones as they loaded her up. 

(Doesn't this look like a paparazzi photo?)

Take good care of her, Craigslist friends, a lot of love (and oh, so much time) went into her.

P.S. I think we are making a Craigslist chair purchase ourselves this weekend. We decided a pair of mid century modern chairs (rather than just the one) would be perfect. It's a small chair and looks a little dwarfed without a match. It was easy enough to do, I still have paint, so why not? I think I found a winner last night but I need to go check it out. Could be next week's project! 

And the prize for most trash "salvaged" this week goes to . . .

. . . who else, but my borderline hoarder husband. 

I think he's taking my blog tag line (don't throw that away just yet!) a little too seriously. I'm all for free items, especially ones we can recreate and reuse, but I just have to draw the line somewhere. 

Within the last 24 hours he volunteered our house to adopt some of the most bizarre "I'll turn it into art" things I've seen all year. 

First up: the legs and feet of a turkey my brother killed on a hunting trip earlier this year. They're sitting, petrified, in my mom's basement, and of course, MQ thinks they're perfect for a project. 

We haven't actually seen them in person but I'm imagining they'll be something like this 

(I'm trying not to vomit just looking at these): 

I mean, really? A dead turkey's feet? He thinks if he just spray paints them a bright neon color they'll be much cooler and less creepy. I disagree. That's disgusting.

Then, this afternoon I got a 'warning' phone call as he came home from work: 

"I got some felt Christmas decorations they were going to throw away. . . . " 

Fine. What's not to love about felt and crafts and Christmas?

 And then I get to the car, see that the backseat is down to allow room for the massive size of these felt decorations. 

I kid you not. A life size felt buck (fine, a small buck, but it's huge!).

Really? Do we really want and/or need this in our home? 

He did get some really cute small Christmas trees he set up on the mantel immediately.

I do love them. A lot. 

But, if the buck and the mini trees weren't enough, he also got about 10 life size trees to go with it and tried to create some sort of winter forest in our living room. I remain unconvinced that these will make an appearance again next Christmas. 

(They do have some sturdy metal stands though which is pretty neat)

Although the forest got quickly shuffled to the basement (along with two 6-feet tall birch tree branches . . .), the buck remained, currently standing on our entryway table. I am waiting him to go downstairs as well, but MQ is convinced it is perfect wall art. 

In all honesty, we have spent the past 18 months searching for an affordable, modern piece of art to hang right there, and this buck was certainly affordable . . . but I just am not seeing it. 

We're not nature people. 

We prefer the indoors to the out. 

We don't hunt yet we aren't hard-core animal lovers either.

 It seems odd to welcome a buck into our living room. And turkey legs. 

There have been talks of spray painting him though (silver? olive green? navy blue?), and maybe I'd let him stay if it turned out . . . but only temporarily. Until we find a better, just as affordable (aka, free) piece of art to replace him.