Crazy runs in the family

So last week I was having a bad, hormonal, depressing day.
I was missing Becka and while I could have medicated myself with food I decided to Do Something rather Eat Something. Besides I probably would have had to share food with the kids, and I was not in a sharing mood.

Thanks to Jesse's dad who put a floor up in our attic so that we could clear some of the stuff in the garage, the garage seemed a good place to start.I began my craziness in the garage.

I cleared everything away from the door so I could move the heirloom sectional into the family room.
Managed that just fine by myself.

I am an independent type when I get crazy.

Everything was going fine and dandy until I tried to maneuver one of the corner pieces up by the fireplace without clearing the junk out of the way first.
The chair snagged itself on the clutter and I had to lift it high and twist myself to get it in place.
I hurt my back.
I found it funny that all the crazy painting balanced on a chair 8 months pregnant, last minute nesting moving bookcases up and down staircases by myself in my ninth month of pregnancy I never hurt myself. (the craziness has been around for a while)

At this point I actually thanked God for my migraine because otherwise I would have been in a lot of pain without all the painkillers in my system. I am a bit nuts.




So here it is inside the house.
I did it all by myself and all it cost was a couple of bottles of painkillers that I already had on hand.

But craziness has no boundaries and the drugs were still working so why stop.

My lack of a backsplash irked me.
So I will paint it.
I have the paint from the mantle in the garage so its free.
I like Free.


Of course it looks all nice and clean for the photos but the before was a sight to behold.
Part of my painting reasoning was to avoid cleaning the kitchen. Not very rational, I know.
Nor practical.
I had to move everything constantly to get it out of my way and it was a big pain.
Bigger than the pain in my back and head cause the have drugs for that but not for stupid.

And look I had to clean it anyway cause who wants to show off the accomplishments with dirty dishes and food all over. I am not that crazy.

I finished the backsplash and the kids told me I needed to do the soffit too.
So I did.
They were right. It is nice to know that crazy people have smart kids.

Day 1 of crazy ends.

Day 2 arrives.
Crazy is a long term ailment and was still hanging around.
My closet doors irk me.
I should fix them, I have the paint in the garage and it is FREE.
Now I had primed the ones in the kitchen but they were off white and needed a coat of white top coat.

Below is a picture of the ugly brown cheap crap I had on the walls.
The girl is doing her best to make the doors look better but it is a lost cause.


So I painted them.
Since I had the primer and paint out and am still crazy might as well paint the laundry room doors, coat closet doors and the cabinet in the bathroom.










So day 2 since I was injured I paced myself.
I painted the furnace room doors.
Painted the pantry door.
Primed and painted the laundry room doors.
Primed and painted the coat closet door.
Primed and painted the bathroom cabinet.
Painted the cabinet hardware.

Got on my hands and knees and scrubbed my kitchen and bathroom floors.

The craziness was wearing off because I did not do the cabinets in the 2 bathrooms upstairs.

Don't Get Run Over

So it is snowing here again.

The roads are slick.

Our driveway has a bit of a slope that can give difficulty when the conditions are bad.

Today they were bad.

Kids hollered that Dad was home but could not get up the drive so I start getting ready to go out to help him. (I was planning on shoveling a path through the 1/8 inch of snow to give his tires a bit more traction)
Danny asks, "Are you going to push him"?
I inform him noway I don't want to get run over.

As I get my coat out of the closet I look out and see he made it up. I open up the door and greet him and say I was preparing to help him.

Then the car slides down our drive into the street.
Jesse runs along side his "baby" as it drives away leaving him behind.
I am yelling," Don't get run over" again and again.

She (the car) stopped partway in the street and managed not to get hit or run anyone over.

I went out and scraped the 1/8 inch of snow, sleet stuff off the drive and Jesse made it up without problems and the car has managed to stay put for a while now.

Jesse now agrees with me that our next house will have a less steep drive.
(not that this one is excessively steep)


Now if I could just stop checking the driveway to see if out car is still there.

A Partial Before and After

The top of my microwave was a clutter magnet.
The shame of my shortcomings is so great you will not see a before picture of my sins.

So I cleaned it up.
Unfortunately the pillar of plastic containers holding the honey, butter, and Cinnamon was unsightly.

I needed a box or a basket to gather they together in.

Behold the box... from the recycle bin in the garage.

Before



After

Of course this project was free with stuff I had on hand, I went digging through the trash for goodness sake. Just took a bit of elbow grease to clean up the mess and craftiness to prettify the box.

I think I have a bit of touching up to get the handles the right color but for now I am satisfied.

Pull up a chair

Grab a cup of tea, coffee, or beverage of choice and enjoy a Morgan house chat with Karist.

Some of you have heard of the "Pink House", if you haven't or want more info about it just ask Karist she will talk non stop and entertain you to your hearts content.

What exactly is the Pink House? It is a magical place in Karist's imagination (don't tell her, she thinks it is real)It is a part of her daily life.
She is always relating to things by saying "that's me" in movies she sees, games she plays, stories she hears, same thing with the house. You have a horse so she lets you know that she has a horse at her Pink House. Most likely it is a pink horse.

Here are a couple of samples of the Pink House phenomenon.

On Monday I spent the day baking.
I made: Butterhorn rolls
Bran Muffins
Pumpkin Bread and Muffins
Peanut Butter Cookies
And a 3 layer Cake with one pan...what a pain, I mean lesson in patience.

You can guess I was busy and using my mixer a lot.
As I was wrapping up I notice someone had taken the bread hook out and it was on the counter... with the enamel chipped off!!!
Tired Momma hollers across the house "Who broke my mixer"?
What kid in their right mind would confess that one.
No one did at first but I used my magical Mommy skills to discover that is was Karist.
Faced with the Magical, All-Knowing Mom she confessed and said she was sorry.
I gave her a hug and let her know that I forgave her but I was still sad that it was broken. I did not stay sad long.

She goes on after she says she is sorry to say:
" I got a mixer in my Pink House. It's a pink mixer." (that's a shock)
" My mixer is not broken"
She cracks me up.


Today I was prepping a Turkey to put in the oven for dinner. I called the kids in to show them the gizzards and talk about where meat comes from. Karist hung around after the other kids left asking "where is its leg?" for the third time. I show her again then put the turkey in the oven.
Here it comes the part you are waiting for:
Karist- "I have a pink turkey in my Pink House. I cut off its tail".

So if Karist ever acts shy around you or she is just nodding to every question you ask her on the phone just as her about her Pink House, she will talk.

Getting things done

There are not before pictures but this is what it looks like now.


I tried to find a solution to targeted mess/problem areas.
Coat closet fix: another organizer.



Living room was dark and uninviting.
Fix: a hanging lamp from Ikea for 12.00 and hanging my favorite quilt on the wall for some color.
It was free also- I stole it from my Mom,
who got it from my Aunt Brenda,
who got it from the animal shelter, who got it from a donation from someone who thought it would make good kennel bedding.

New curtains also free but I had not hung them because they need a room darkening backing, tired of waiting I put them over the old green ones with clothes pins.
It makes me feel better, and after all that is what matters most in decorating.

Devonae's desk was cluttered with school books and papers. Simple fix a magazine holder to put them in when she is not using them.

Jesse's desk was worse but a couple of magazine boxes quickly store his clutter where it is out of my sight but in his reach.

Fluffing my Nest

Since my sister is getting ready to fly away to Ecuador I figure I will be spending more time at my computer. For the next two years till she migrates back blogging and Skype are how we will be keeping in touch.

So I decided to touch up my computer area with a bit of art.

The additions are free.

The pictures were intended to be in color and may be someday soon but my printer won the battle of the ink.








I had the letter stickers and scrapbook paper in my craft closet and the painters tape in the garage.

The art is from http://indiefixx.com/Feed_your_soul/index.html

Here is a not so widely known fact: Becka collected birds when she was younger.

Dance Recital

When: last month
Theme: Who-ville
Why now? because I am a procrastinator that is why.






So why the stark background and the costume disarray?

Well did I mention a procrastinator earlier?
I put off getting new batteries in the camera until the last minute and then wardrobe malfunctions occupied me till the last minute so I had to toss the task to my sometimes reliable procrastinator-in-chief.

Batteries seemed like his kind of thing but in retrospect I should of had him braid hair on a wire while I did the batteries.

So we arrive and the recital begins, the camera turns on them shuts down. I turn to my partner and ask the obvious question with the also obvious answer.

"Did you get new batteries for the camera?"
"No"
Followed by either "I did not know it needed new batteries", or " I thought you did".

At this late date I can't remember which it was. Perhaps I should take a poll to determine the historical fact so that it can be recorded properly.

So there were no pictures or videos of the recital or the charming background.

You will have to live with the mugshot like post-recital photos in my kitchen.