I may be a drama queen (it’s true, ask any friend), but I rarely use the word hate. I love our cats and I love cupcakes and I friggin’ love my ice hockey (holla to the Steel City), but I don’t hate much. So this, my friends, is serious.
Every day when I come home from work, I find our daily stack of mail on the kitchen counter, carefully tucked in one corner by the hubs. I hate piles. Other than the occasional glossy, rarely is it anything exciting (an out-of-the-norm colored envelope sends me into a tizzy – I love the good hand-written snail mail). And while I plead with him to (pretty) please shred the junk mail, stack the mags, and toss the bills in the office, he just… doesn’t.
Now, I love my man. (Maybe that should have been example one up there, eh?) But perhaps he can’t stand opening mail as much as I loathe to watch it pile up? You can find me every day at 6 pm attacking those stacks with a vengeance. Why, oh why, is this so hard for you, Sweetums? (Smooch.)
Help. How do you wrangle your mail? Are you an open-as-it-comes in household, or do you stash the (ahem) pile in a handy catch all? I’m kicking myself for not scooping up a sweet ceramic “in” box at the Vintage Bazaar, thinking I had no use for it. With all the hustle and bustle around me, it was simply a moment of panic that had me place it back on the vendor’s shelf. Ugh. Advice?
…rumpled sheets and kitty hang-time. While we love a clean, freshly made bed, weekends are in a league of their own. Playing hard on Saturday nights equal down time with the hubs and furballs on Sunday mornings. Sleeping in, scrambled eggs at noon, and midday movies are required. Of course this means no work (guilt free), afternoon naps, and definitely no bed making.
We’re sorry. We don’t blame any of you who may be growing weary of the continuous tale of our basement woes. (And if you’re just joining in now, you can see what we mean starting here, questioning lost items here, and trying to keep those chins up here). But. We must. Trudge. On.
While this debacle has been going on for over a month, I think I’m clear to say that we’re nearing the end. Our piles of storage bins are still cluttering our office and deck, plus the kitty carriers, tents and those few random bike parts spilling out of my closet. If I could open that folding door without toppling those bins, you’d see what I mean.
While we’re anxious to get our things back into storage, we also want the job done correctly and in a way that the insurance company will cover completely. After all, we were dealing with a basement that had started to evolve into an organism all it’s own. And nevermind that it was beginning to smell a bit like the Swamp Thing’s underarm. Um, ew.
There is some good news. The restoration company did phase one of the job, removing the drywall up to shoulder height and running honkin’ industrial dehumidifiers for solid week. As of last week, the initial cleanup is done, and the basement is stripped naked to its’ bare, clean stud skeleton.
Now the only thing keeping us from implementing our secret project is (surprise!) the insurance company. As soon as the restoration company gets the go-ahead, they’ll be in like ninjas (fingers crossed) to hang the drywall, install new doors for everyone, and we’ll soon be on our merry way toward storage bliss. Looks like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel after all…
As I just mentioned, we have a trick or two up our collectives sleeves yet (why, hello, mystery project), and don’t you know my lady is itching to whip out the power tools. As if I need an excuse to power up the ol’ miter saw (which in turn gets her one step closer to dipping those brushes in paint). The project goal? We hope to prevent soupy, sewage water belongings in our future.
Of course we’ll keep you in the know as we build, paint, and anchor along the way. Now. Here’s to hoping our contractors and insurance honchos hash out their differences so we can get started.
When our friend Rachael asked us if we’d be interested in joining her this past weekend for a Sunday stroll through The Vintage Bazaar, we couldn’t tie our shoes on fast enough. First of all, holy cow. How did we not know about this? Second of all, we thank our lucky stars for gals like her to keep these two in the know.
Held in our neighborhood’s fabulous Congress Theater, The Vintage Bazaar held their second “pop-up flea market” to a crowd of thousands. It was hot (enter ponytail), packed to the gills, and amazing. This lovely, thrifty mecca was founded by Katherine Raz and Libby Alexander. Simply put (in their own words), the bazaar is “a vintage and antiques marketplace for the thrifty set, filled with reasonable priced vintage and antique decor, furniture, clothing, and accessories.” The thrifty set? Ah, yes. Us.
We weren’t sure what to expect, but skimming their website left us salivating. Armed with our camera and enough cash (not too much for guilt, but not too little in the case of the omg-gotta-have-it), we arrived 20 minutes after the doors opened. Greeted with homemade goodies from Hoosier Mama Pies and frosty beers provided by the beverage stations, we knew we would not be disappointed.
After making a mental note to grab pastries on the way out, we joined the ranks and tossed ourselves into the mix. Massive shelves of kitschy baubles ran aplenty, displayed alongside gorgeous lamps, too-cute curtain panels, marble tables, mid-century chairs, and eclectic collections of original art.
We were definitely sad to leave some items behind (a retro set of aluminum table lamps come to mind), but we did score a few things of our own. As soon as Rachael pulled this sweet turtle from the shelf, I was instantly reminded of the same jewelry case from my childhood – right down to the stamp on his underbelly (reminding the buyer he was “Made in Korea,” of course).
Right down to those gaudy gold guts, I began to wonder if this was my turtle. I mentally retraced the steps in my mind, trying to pin point the moment that I went from kid-turtle-owner to turtle-less. Doing my best to remain rational, I realized that over the years, it couldn’t have been mine (could it?). Regardless, it didn’t stop me from pleading with the hubs to negotiate a friendly deal.
Considering I stash my precious wedding band on the nozzle of my favorite perfume bottle (hey, I’m not a big jewelry girl), I feel so much better knowing that at the end of the day, they’ll land in the belly of this guy. He’s perfect as-is, but I wonder how he’ll clean up with a glossy coat of paint?
And while I may not own many bangles, I am a girl who loves a handbag. One more can’t hurt. (Really, Scott, I needed this one.) After debating the price tag for too long, I eventually put my bargaining skills to work and talked the vendor down to a solid deal. The burgundy leather stole my heart, and those two flaps open to reveal double pockets.
But believe it or not, our holy grail was found in the first 10 minutes. For just 15 bones, we like to think it was a drop in the bucket. You better believe we’ll gussy it up with a fresh coat of color, that is, once we figure out where it will go.
A few hours later, we left satisfied and eager to put our new finds to use. And as expected, we all felt a few bills lighter. Rachael scored a duo of crystal bedside lamps and the most adorable glass jar for housing kitty treats. Which, of course, had me wishing I’d snagged a doggie dessert dish of my own. It’s contagious, I tell you.
And here it is, Monday again. A happy day to you all and an even better week ahead! But now we wonder, how was your weekend? Any other Windy City locals out there have a vintage-bazaar-story to dish? Or perhaps your own city is wrapping up their summer with some fun events of their own? Let’s hear it.
When I walk into a room, I have this annoying brain tug that makes me mentally rearrange the furniture in front of me. What, don’t you? You know, kind of like those math geniuses that unscramble numbers in every day life to find patterns I’ll never comprehend (such as office spreadsheets, license plates and the like). It’s actually a habit I can’t kick, although I’d never judge someone and their use of space. It’s just…this thing…I do. Oy.
But there is a silver lining. Easily one of the top head-scratchers we receive from friends and family is furniture placement. Where should it go? Did I do it right? What do you think? Of course we’re more than happy to oblige the inquiries that come our way (going so far as giving friendly web-based advice as well), and we’re obviously flattered that those questions are tossed towards us. And dealing with small spaces in this big city can provide some pretty interesting challenges, so the landing pad of your furnishings can easily make or break the flow of a room.
Take, for example, this recent bedroom flop. When a friend of a friend hired us to help her hang artwork throughout her new apartment, we eagerly packed up the ol’ tool bag. After conquering a few strong frames in the bathroom, we headed towards stop numero dos – the bedroom. Here’s our view from the door:
And here you can see her bed (and her adorable shabby chic nightstand) once you walk into the room and turn to your right (see the door knob?). Much like our own crash pad, the whole space comes in around 9×12 feet. As a result, the current layout resulted in visually cutting the space in two. You walk into the room, you hit the sideways bed, and your options end there.
Although it wasn’t on the actual handy man “to do” list, we talked about a little bed-to-wall-swap. After a few quick measurements, we decided it made much more sense to rotate the bed to the wall you see upon entering the room, which not only provides a better sense of flow, but is hands down more eye pleasing. After all, isn’t much nicer to see the head of your throne as opposed to, well, the side of it? Entering the room, here’s what you see now:
And of course we can’t forget the original task at hand. With the new layout, a picture perfect space opened up to display her super sweet art print (from one of our ultimate go to folks as seen here and here), Seattle Show Posters.
In under 30 minutes, we were able to transform her room while injecting a little fun with an on-hand print. At the same time, her punchy pillow and colorful throw are now the stars of the show – and all for the fabulous price of free. Oh, how we love this sort of instant gratification (and all while feeding into my obsessive-furniture-rearranging tendencies).
But what about you? How often do you find yourselves switching up the chair-to-couch ratio in your living rooms? Or maybe you’re constantly going back and forth over a handful of paces when it comes to coffee table placement? The hubs and I are always poking fun at ourselves over our compulsion to nudge pieces a few inches to the left. And then back to the right. And then, well, you get the idea.
…warm blankets, soft pillows, and a good movie night on the couch. Jack by our side is, of course, the icing on the cake. And The Mighty Ducks on the tube is a little slice of heaven, too – definitely a top 10 desert island movie in my book. (Hell-o, nerd alert.)
This past weekend, my parents and youngest brother, Josh, drove into the Windy City for some good ol’ family time. Days were spent downtown, and night activities included pajama parties on our sofa. I couldn’t resist snapping this sweet shot of my baby brother with Jack as his constant guard, since it seemed to sum up the warm fuzzy feeling of the whole weekend.
On another note, happy Monday, folks! We hope you all sliced out at least a little bit of time for some peace and quiet – or perhaps you got out and about if that’s what floats your boat, too. But we’d love to know – are there any fun stories to share?
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by Kim
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