Friday, March 13, 2015


As I've mentioned here before, I'm purging like a maniac at Chateau Gahan. And grateful, more than ever, that I have a booth at an antique mall where I can get money for all that I'm getting rid of (otherwise, I'd be having weekly garage sales which, as we all know, are the work of the devil to plan and execute).

My paperwork is getting a good cleansing as well. My billing files are thinning out as I shred stuff that I know for sure I can access online. My file folder upon file folder of inspirational and informational articles/images from magazines and catalogs . . . well, all I gotta say is thank gosh for Pinterest. If I have a tearsheet that I absolutely must keep, I try to search it out on the internet so that I can turn it into a Pin.

I came across this in one of my folders and had to smile at the sentiment.

I remember when I became a mom, I felt this sentiment so strongly, especially as a single working mom who juggled an extremely demanding job with raising a daughter. Doing a good job at work was and is always my goal, but turning what I do into a career has never been a priority. A career is the pursuit of a lifelong ambition or the general course of progression towards lifelong goals. I think being a good mother became my "career."

If there are any regrets about my work life, it's that I didn't pursue one of my passions. When I was younger, I dreamt of becoming a magazine editor. I'd make my own magazines using spiral notebooks, laying out each page, writing copy, drawing the images. And there was also my love of interior design — I'd take graph paper and cut-out pieces of furniture and spend hours drawing and mapping out house plans. Archaeology was a long-time love — I devoured books and magazines on the subject, and would stage my own digs in the yard complete with a make-up brush to dust found treasures. In each of these cases, I wonder what my life would be like now had I pursued that passion. This regret has come up in many conversations I've had with Harleigh, and always in the positive light of encouraging her to go after what she loves.

Don't get me wrong. I'm in a good place with what I do. There's lots of perks to being with a company for going on 19 years. Plus, I've built quite a creative life outside of work that keeps me endlessly happy. And most importantly of all, I AM a piece of work.

Here are some Instagram posts from the past couple weeks.

I decided that I should add a case to my booth. 
I do have lots of doodads to sell. I found this one, unfinished, for $15. 
I gave it a coat of ivory chalk paint.

It has slots on the inside long ends (it must have held shelves), 
and I covered them with a pretty paper. And then lined it with a teal blue fabric.
The broaches are pinned to ripped squares of linen.
(The first thing to sell from the case . . . the two worry stones on the left. Who'd a thunk it?)

Evenings as of late = time on the sofa. Him sleeping. Me reading.

What I usually see in the morning when I wake up.
Not too shabby.

Sporting his Valentine bandana from the groomer.
(Don't tell him, but tomorrow he gets his summer cut. It makes him a little self-conscious at first.)

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Booth Crafts

Come to find out, the items I craft and put in my booth have been selling like hotcakes. My refinished furniture, gone within days (scroll to the bottom of the linked post). The pieces of wood I've found on beach vacations got prettied up with painted words and images, and I couldn't make them fast enough. Custom-crafted bulletin boards made using old windows. Old chandeliers de-electrified, painted, candles added . . . sold as outdoor decor. Ice skates, embellished and turned into Christmas decor. Valentine gift boxes. A vase made from books. A paper lantern covered in crocheted doilies. A mirror covered in shells. Beachy journals. A patio umbrella recovered in a vintage tablecloth. Calico bunting with ball fringe. Good sellers, all of them.

With 2015 being the year of the purge, I've enjoyed living a simpler life AND gifting others with items that I've lovingly created. It's a win-win.

With probably 15 giant pickle jars taking up real estate in my two-car-garage-that-only-fits-one-car, it was about time to come up with a project. And tah-dah . . . the K-Cup Jar was born! I used one in my kitchen for awhile before the calendar turned to 2015, and my counterspaces were begging to be cleared of stuff — cute stuff no doubt, but stuff nonetheless. Each jar holds 32 cups. And, come on, cute or what???  I even saved up empty K-cups and re-lidded them with white paper so that the jars would stage nicely. These three are "the Kitten Edition." With more jars to get rid of, there's bound to be a new edition to come!

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Heathy Stuf

I've written before about my obsession with grocery lists left in grocery carts.
While pumping gas at QuickTrip the other day, I went to throw away
something and saw this at the top of the trash can.

I couldn't resist taking it. 
Makes me smile every time I read it.

Heathy Stuf

I love my mommy
and I love trees
because they need
water, sun, air.
And all of us
need air, water, sun.
And we need water
every day.
And sunlight.
And we need
food for us.
And we need
heathy drinks.
And we need
air because
if we don't
have air
we will die. 
And we need
water. If 
we don't
have water we will

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