Today, I ate a late lunch of spicy chili with a dollop of cool sour cream on top.
The low, pale sun streamed in through the window and cast long shadows across my table.
I was the only human at home. Ranger laid under the table, snoring quietly, and one of the cats was sleeping nearby, stretched out in a patch of sunshine on the floor.
And that was a very nice way to enjoy my midday meal.
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For more stories about my carb- and sugar-free eating adventures, read:
"Getting dirty is a hallmark of hard work and it's a hallmark of fun, and dirt is not the enemy."
-Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs
For the past three weeks, I have been doing a lot of dirty jobs. In the name of remodeling my home office, I've run around in old white v-neck tees and a pair of paint-splattered yoga pants; washed paint, stain and sawdust out of my hair; carried endless piles of stuff here and there. I've sanded, de-glossed, stained, varnished, painted, trimmed out, and spackled for at least an hour or two every day. I've cleaned 10,000 paintbrushes, swept up enough sawdust to reenact the Dust Bowl, protected my eyes, nose and skin from harm, and rinsed and emptied at least a dozen buckets of dirty water.
Yep, it's been a dirty three weeks.
But sing hallelujah and pass the mashed potatoes because all the hard work is finally done!
Here's an updated version of my to-do list, mixed in with some shots of the new room that is emerging from the chaos.
1. Decide on colors and inspiration pieces.
2. Empty out the room.
3. Remove the crown molding, chair rail, baseboards and door; sand them down, then stain and re-finish them, and replace.
4. Clean, stain and re-finish the wood around the windows and door frame that cannot be removed.
5. Paint the ceiling in Bleached Linen, to match the rest of the house.
6. Paint the walls a warm neutral - beige or grey.
7. Paint the inside of the door and/or the bit of ceiling above the window a fun color. Maybe red? Still pondering this option - right now, I'm loving the crisp white and beige.
8. Decide on a furniture arrangement using the two existing work tables and inspiration end tables. Wish list: couch, desk lamps, reading light, cabinet or cupboard. Saving up for the couch.
9. Reconfigure all the ungodly wires and devices; find a way to get the tower, router, and printer off my work table.Waiting for my IT guy to get on this task.
10. Re-finish the built-in bookcase.
11. Re-style the bookcase.
12. Hang art, collect accessories, consider a rug and window covering, style the room.
13. Celebrate!!
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So yeah, there is just one dirty job waiting for me on this list - refinishing the door, which I am purposely saving till last. You were fun, all you dirty jobs, but I am not too sad to be done with you.
Which means that this week, I get to do all the artsy jobs! Making some paintings, arranging and rearranging my bookshelves, adding a few more houseplants - these are the steps that I have been dreaming of, during those long hours with an electric sander or paintbrush in my hand, and they are finally here.
I'm as excited as a male gooey duck at spawning time... and as Mike will explain, that's pretty darn excited.
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For the full story on my office makeover, read these::
Yeah, I might be the worst selfie photographer on the planet.
I bring shame to my gender, for whom the art of the successful selfie seems to be instinctive. Most of my female friends and family can yank out their phones, toss off a winning smile and capture a fab photo in a flash. I feel so uncomfortable and inadequate in these situations that I usually try to disappear, or at least slink away into the shadows.
The problem is not with my camera skills. I know how to use lighting, poses and a setting to best advantage in a portrait, as long as I am shooting someone else.
But as soon I'm on the other side of the camera, aack! I freak out.
It's been this way for a long time. Ever since I can remember, the instant that someone points a camera at me and says, Smile!, I immediately lose my ability to behave naturally. My grin goes crooked, my head tilts at an unnatural angle, and my eyes swivel out of focus.
And then, when I'm the photographer as well as the subject, I feel so self-conscious and dumb that I lose the basic ability to point and shoot. My compositions go wonky, I forget to focus the image, and my brain is so distracted and angsty that I don't even think to check my camera roll to see if anything is turning out.
Oh gosh, I know that sounds so dramatic and exaggerated. But trust me, it's totally true and I have the outtakes to prove it.
Dagnabbit, I'm determined to do better. So, hashtags to the rescue! I'm taking the popular #selfiesunday as my mantra, and hereby vow to work on my selfies until I can take a decent one without having a heart attack.
Today was my first official session. In front of a gorgeous red tiled wall in the McDonald's ladies' room, I took 29 shots and these are the best two. The one above is notable because I actually managed to capture that fiery red grid in my composition. Too bad my face is concentrating as if I were taking a calculus exam
The shot below is my best of the day. Wonkily crooked and out of focus, true, but at least I managed to look at the lens and smile like a normal human. I'm making progress!
Wanna see more photos of me? Stalk me to your heart's content:
We are talking about gourds, tubers, and fungi, most of which are the color of dirt.
Some have freakish bumps and bulges; others have bizarre stripes, speckles and spots. Most of them look like alien life forms.
And while they can be delicious - especially when laden with olive oil, salt and pepper - these funky fellows rarely show up on any culinary top ten lists.
But I admire them. Despite their earthy inelegance, I appreciate that they show up every year, unapologetically and authentically just being themselves. Warts and all.
I think that I could take a lesson from them.
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For more stories about fruits and vegetables, try these:
Whew, today's art class was super intense. At least half the class felt discouraged and upset; three of my 12 students were on the brink of tears.
And it's all because of these guys.
Yes. Pumpkins. Mini-pumpkins, to be exact.
These round, ribbed fellows make for a challenging drawing exercise, and while I normally save this project for older, more advanced students, I decided that my 4th through 6th graders were up for the challenge.
I'm happy to report that I was able to wipe away a few hot tears, soothe the troubled hearts, and speak calming words of redirection and encouragement. And by the end of class, those amazing children turned out some fantastic pumpkin drawings.
How did I learn to work such miracles?
Easy. See, when it comes to teaching students how to draw, I have a fairy godmother.
Meet Vickie.
About ten years ago, when our school-for-homeschoolers found itself without an art teacher, my friend and fellow homeschooling parent, Vickie, stepped up. Summoning her vast experiences as a college art major, lifelong painter and drawer, and full-time lover of kids, Vickie volunteered to teach our otherwise art-deprived high school students. Since my daughters were benefiting from her spirited instruction, and I was always game to hang out with Vickie, I offered to help.
Remember, I'm no trained artist. For crying out loud, I was an accounting major. If I recall correctly, my formal art instruction ended somewhere around third grade, and while I was a creative kid in other ways, I never got the hang of drawing stuff.
But I worked alongside Vickie, taking the lead on classroom management issues and designing a balanced curriculum, while she served as the content expert and head cheerleader for our budding teenage artists.
I listened as she worked one-on-one with discouraged students, helping them to articulate what they disliked about their work, suggesting technical solutions to sidestep their problems, and always, ALWAYS reminding them to draw what they see.
And over the years, I caught on. Vickie encouraged me to develop my own drawing style, making me the exuberant and enthusiastic amateur artist that I am today.
Even more magically, she transformed me into a drawing teacher. Following her lead, I learned how to ask the right questions, refine the necessary skills, and always, ALWAYS remind my students to draw what they see.
So today, when those pumpkins were making my students as sad as a girl with no invitation to the ball, I remembered my fairy godmother, Vickie, and everything she taught me.
Luckily, my students found that my instruction fits them like a glass slipper, and now we all are living happily every after.
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For more stories about my talented and adorable art students, read:
Now, I try really hard not to spoil him. He is a pet, not a surrogate child, and therefore I do my best to hold him to a doggy lifestyle:
No human food.
No heaps of store-bought toys.
No fancy designer collars or leashes.
And definitely no dog clothes.
But when it comes to letting the ginger-coated gentleman climb up on my bed for a comfy snooze, I'm a total sucker. During the night, when sharing this space with humans, he intuitively understands that he belongs curled at the end of the bed. But as soon as I get up, he immediately claims the prime territory. Stretching out like an Irish prince, he works the pillows and comforters to his prime advantage and luxuriates in high style.
Multi-tasking, the brain experts now tell us, is a myth. The brain absolutely cannot pay attention to two conceptual activities at the same time. When forced to try, it simply switches back and forth between the two tasks, which is as inefficient as it is exhausting.
Fair enough. I've never liked that frenetic trying-to-do-things-at-once feeling anyway.
But there is a form of multi-tasking that I adore. I use it when I have a really boring, tedious job that absolutely needs to get done.
Like filling in every single one of the hundred or so nail holes left in my newly re-installed woodwork. And then touching up every bit of filler with matching stain.
Oi. So horribly painstaking and dull.
When faced with a mind-numbingly dull task of this magnitude, I realize that I have three options:
1. Get 'er done and die from the boredom.
2. Put off the job for another day, and then feel guilty.
3. Find a few really fun jobs to do at more-or-less the same time, thus stirring little sparks of fun into my tedious chore. In other words, multi-task.
So that's what I did today. In spurts, I would fill those wicked little holes till I couldn't stand it anymore, then I would slip away into the kitchen where I had any number of much more fun and interesting projects underway, such as:
^ Deglossing and refinishing my new thrifted plant basket. The original finish was too shiny for my tastes and after the calming influences of my satin polyurethane-covered paintbrush, it is now more natural and rustic.
^ Cleaning the foliage of my new fiddle leaf fig plant with a solution of half milk and half water, which is purported to make those oversize violin-shaped leaves extra glossy. I painted it on with a soft brush, and so far, the effect is amazing.
^ Touching up the metal rods of my geometric sculpture thingy with turquoise paint. I liked the original mellow green, but I decided to punch it up a bit with some aqua accents. The jury is still out on the final result, but so far, so good.
I also started spray-painting my thrifted animals, unfurled my inspiration painting so it will be ready to hang tomorrow, and ran a few loads of laundry.
Now, I willingly admit that my productivity was negatively affected by all the switching back and forth between projects. And let's be honest - none of these chores were exactly a day at the beach.
But compared to this monotony, my multi-tasking mania made my day.
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Wanna read more about my office makeover? Check these out:
