Projects

I have this bad habit--A neverending and always growing list of projects that I never seem to complete. I often spend a ton of time researching these projects, then never even start them. To Jeremy's dismay, my latest project has been landscaping. I discovered sites online where I could buy plant and flower seeds and bulbs very cheaply. So, after several days of researching all these different plants and finding the most inexpensive places to order them, we have now been inundated with seed shipments (the bulbs will come later when it's warmer). I then organized them all, putting together a table that lists the plant names with a picture, how tall they get, when they flower, what color they flower and what type of sun they need, grouping them by where I think they should be planted. This took another afternoon. I also discovered I have roughly 10 packets of seeds that I have no idea what to do with. Now comes the hard part. At some point, I am actually going to have to start these seeds, take care of them, go out and create the flower beds, transplant the plants into them and weed all the beds.

Jeremy seems very skeptical that I will actually accomplish all of this. I have no idea why he's so skeptical. Maybe it's the Vacation Scrapbook project (all "paper souvenirs" all still nicely tucked into a large ziplock bag and I still haven't had prints made of the pictures). Maybe it's the wallpaper border project (see previous blog). Possibly, it's the organizing his shop project (that one I'm still developing in my head, and I haven't acquired the necessary supplies, so that's not really my fault). Maybe it's the stained glass project--I did do all the research for how to do that, but the equipment seemed a bit expensive, and it looked a little complicated. For now, the landscaping project is quite organized. The problem's going to come when I actually plant all the plants and then have to do something with them. That's where things start to get complicated. It's not like I can simply stash the project away like the others. This time I really have to finish the project. I'm pretty sure I can actually do this one though (well, creating the beds and weeding is going to suck a little. . .).

Fortunately, he's always very supportive when I come up with project ideas. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because he knows they'll keep me occupied for a while, yet not really cost him any money (see stained glass "research" above). I think half of it is just my love of researching things and organizing them. I excel at both, but then when it comes to actual implementation--which is usually where you start buying things for the project-- most of the time I sort of lose interest. That could be why he's so supportive of my latest project idea. By rough count, I believe our house has 33 windows, almost all of which are huge. That's an awful lot of expense if we have to buy curtains for all of them, plus, what kinds of curtains would best showcase the woodwork around them? So, I decided that I should check into actually making the curtains myself. I spent about two days researching curtain types, fabric types, sewing machines. . . I decided that Balloon curtains (or shades) would be the best type. They're somewhat ornate, plus, they hang down the window and wouldn't cover up the woodwork around it (not that you probably really wanted to know that info). I even found a site online where, for $10, I could order a pattern/instruction book for creating 10 different kinds of these curtains/shades.

Now comes the hard part. I have never really sewed anything in my life. When I was forced to take home ec my freshman year of high school, I made one item on my own--a pair of shorts. Nobody told me you had to do something called backstitching, so you can imagine my dismay when I first wore my pair of shorts. After that "fiasco," I just did the minimum sewing in class on the projects we had to do, then took them home to my mom, who got me As on a skirt and a cardigan. I still have the tiny sewing kit I purchased for freshman home ec to this day. It has a itty bitty pair of scissors, several tiny spools of thread, and several needles and pins. The only reason I've saved it all these years, and the only thing it has been used for all these years, is so I have a needle to remove the occasional sliver.

I'm sure a ton of things ran through Jeremy's head when I told him I thought I should make the curtains for our house (all 33 of them) and showed him the intricate shades I had picked. I can somewhat imagine his thought process: "What the hell is she thinking? She can't sew anything. How is she going to start sewing, out of the blue, and create these complicated shades? What will they end up looking like? Am I going to be stuck hanging them in our house? Wait, she's only on the researching and organizing phase of the project. That means she'll quit when it comes to buying equipment (like the fact we don't even own a sewing machine). I'm safe!" So what actually came out when I mentioned this idea was: "That sounds like a good idea."

But, I've actually moved a bit beyond my initial research and organization phase for this project. Last week, in our local shopper, I saw two sewing machines for sale. They didn't list prices, but I figure they have to be relatively inexpensive. I'm going to wait and see if they're still in this week's shopper, then call about them. That means I'm almost to the project phase I never get to--purchasing equipment! I figure, if I can get a cheap sewing machine, I can at least try and see if I can make something. I even planned it out--buy cheap, discount fabric, then practice making a few sets with that. The problem is probably going to come when (and if) I actually get the sewing machine and then realize I suck at sewing, which is a strong likelihood with me. I don't think Jeremy realizes I've moved on to this phase in my project yet, otherwise he'd probably get that look on his face--the baffled/consternation look he often gets when I mention some idea I have that's completely absurd. So, I think I'll just wait a bit before I tell him I'm getting a sewing machine (if I get one--I'm still in the sewing machine research phase). That way, he can quickly work through his thoughts: "Crap, she's actually buying a sewing machine. How long am I going to have to listen to her swear at it? How long will she actually try to learn how to sew? Can she actually make curtains? Am I going to be stuck hanging these things? She's going to know I'm lying when I tell her they look 'nice.' What are we going to do with the sewing machine when she quits using it?" And what will come out is: "That sounds like a good idea."

This Old House: Episode 1

The other night Jeremy suddenly goes, "My God, that just scared the hell out of me! That tapping noise scares me every time. When are you going to do something about that?" The tapping noise he was referring to was the two strips, the outer, vinyl layer, of the ugly wallpaper border hanging a good three feet down the wall. This hanging border wouldn't be so bad except it'd been hanging down like that a good two (okay, maybe three) months, and the slightest breeze in the air makes it tap spookily against the wall. It wasn't that I intended for it to be like that so long; it's just I got really busy after I started the project with work and school (and pretty much anything but removing the wallpaper border). It really wouldn't be so bad, except for a several factors: 1) The boarder is at the top of the 12 foot wall, and I'm slightly scared of heights 2) I have virtually no coordination; therefore, I'm also slightly scared of ladders and 3) The thing has become cemented to the wall, so there is no easy and quick way, while 12 feet in the air, to get the thing off.

So today I finally worked up the nerve to tackle the project again. After three more hours of work, I had beaten the ceiling fan off kilter, cracked the glass in the transom above the kitchen door, finally managed to get myself off the refrigerator, and only managed to remove, roughly, another 10 feet of wallpaper border. The first problem was me, with my lack of coordination, trying to move a 10 foot ladder around the kitchen by myself. The next thing I know, I hear this loud thunk noise and little bits of ceiling fan dust bunnies are floating all around me. Yep, I'd moved the ladder right into the fan. So I readjust and try to move the ladder again. Thunk. Move. Thunk. This must have gone on, intermittently, for about five minutes. While I did finally get the ladder in place, the ceiling fan now has a new swaying, wobbling pattern to it's movements. I tried to reassure Jeremy that this was just normal ceiling fan behavior when he came in, but he just looked at me and shook his head.

I finally get the border removed from above the doorway, but then I'm in trouble. The next section is not only above the kitchen cupboards, but also above the refrigerator. Sighing, I realize I have no choice but to climb on top of the fridge if I want to reach it. So up I go. This upward movement was no problem at all, and within about an hour or so, I had removed another lovely 3 foot section. The problem came when it was time for me to climb down. Climbing down things has always been scarier than climbing up (yes, one time Jeremy talked me into rock climbing a very "small" [as he put it] rock. I think it took him and his friend about half an hour to talk me back down the rock). I look down, and suddenly my ladder seems much farther away then it should be, and I have no idea how I managed to get on top of the refrigerator from that distance. So I crouch on top of the refrigerator weighing my options. I don't think I can reach the ladder. I can't climb down onto the counter because the microwave is in the way. My brain is reeling. Not that I'd be embarrassed (it takes a lot anymore for that to happen), but I really don't want to be stuck on top of the refrigerator until Jeremy comes inside. He's working on his own project outside, so who knows how long that could be! I must have sat up there contemplating my situation for a good 10 minutes (well, it was more contemplating things like, what if I have to pee while I'm stuck up here. . .). Finally, I realized that I could hang onto the cupboard with one hand, and then reach as far forward as I could. Doing this, I just barely managed to snag the ladder and inch it close enough so that I could finally climb down. Freedom!

So, I go about my merry wallpaper removing way for another hour. By this time, I've hit the corner. Since the cupboards are in the way, there is absolutely no way I can turn the ladder and get close enough to the wall. Seemed like an excellent reason to quit for the day to me. Now, the next problem comes. I need to get the ladder folded up and out of the kitchen. Wrestling with it, I manage, after about five minutes, to fold it up, somehow managing not to bean myself in the head or have it topple over on me, which I think is quite a feat! I now start carrying it to the door, very carefully avoiding the ceiling fan. In fact, I'm so proud of myself, when CRACK! I walked the ladder right into the glass transom above the door. The glass doesn't fall out (still hasn't, thank goodness), but it spider cracks in like 5 different directions. Of course, I'm near tears. For one, this is really old glass, for two, the wallpaper border has fried what little patience I have left, and for three, if the glass falls out, there's nothing to hold the heat in the kitchen anymore.

Immediately, I'm off and running outside to find Jeremy, who calmly reassures me. As I'm headed back inside, I hear Deb come around. Deb is a woman who is excellent at construction work and helps Jeremy with jobs I can't (that's pretty much all construction work. I'm not saying I couldn't help, but for both our sanity and the sake of more rapid progress, it's better that I don't). She asks Jeremy what happened, I hear Jeremy explaining, then I hear Deb say "Bless her heart." Yep, I've become a "bless her heart" case. It's the southern way of lightening an insult. Here in the south, if someone says bless her/his heart, this is usually followed with some sign of the person's ineptness or stupidity, like "Bless her heart, but she can't even figure out how to make Kool-Aid." Then I hear Jeremy telling her, "Yeah, but she hasn't mentioned how many times she knocked the ladder into the ceiling fan." Hmmmm. How'd he know?