The DIY Drop Cloth Drape.
It's amazing how much you don't realize you dislike something until you replace it with something better. (And no, ladies, I'm not talking about your husbands.) It's also amazing that after you look at something long enough you become oblivious to the fact that something else could and WOULD look mucho better-o.
Who knew I didn't have to keep window treatments forever? Not me, that's who.
I'm very new to the blogging world, the DIY world, and just cool house stuff in general. But now that the kids have been kicked out flown the coop (and I have a new, super-fly FAST computer), I'm finding all new ways to get creative and generally irritate the crap out of Philly.
I'm a little late getting on this particular boat, but apparently a really cool and inexpensive way to make yourself some custom drapes is to start with some uber-cheap painter's drop cloths. I bought mine at Lowe's, but I suspect you can find them at any do-it-yourself box store.
I picked up a 9'x12' drop cloth.
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We have a great thrift store in town. I went in a few weeks ago looking for some lace panties and a toilet brush, and I saw a pair of brass lamps sitting high atop a shelf.
I'd been wanting to play with a brass lamp. Opportunity presented itself.
These particular lamps were $3.50 each. While at times I'm willing to blow that same amount on a Diet Coke and 6-pack of chocolate wax donuts for breakfast, I thought that was too much to spend on an actual working lamp, let alone $7.00 for the pair.
So I walked away.
I went back into the shop a week later for a matching bra and toilet plunger. My lamps were still there.
AND, it was half-off-anything-electrical week!
I walked out of the shop with both lamps AND 2 back issues of Better Homes & Gardens for a nickel apiece. Grand total for the shopping excursion: $3.82. Score.
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I love my Mom. I also love that she was impressed enough with my kitchen backsplash to trust me to do hers as well.
Unfortunately, I'm more of an earthy-tone-brownish kinda girl...whereas Mom is into cooler grays.
Gray is not my friend. Whether we're talking about the hairs multiplying with increasing voracity atop my head.....or paint. Grays like to turn blue. (Again with the hair...You've seen how old-lady-gray hair can, indeed, turn blue, if not properly processed...)
And let's face it. 50 Shades was the WORST. BOOK. EVER.
But I digress.
Mom has a gray quartz countertop and blonde-colored maple cabinets. Hmmmm...grays and creams living together in perfect harmony?? (I'd like to buy the world a Coke?) Inconceivable!
But this is my Mom we're talking about, so instead I'm thinking, "As...You...Wish...!!"
After painting the gray tones on one wall THREE different times, they finally started looking less blue. The tiles still appear somewhat blue in the photos, but in person, they actually do look gray.
Well, most do.
I'm rethinking wanting to do this as a side business. It turns out I'm not much of a contortionist, and you really NEED to be one in order to properly mask everything off and paint in the corners. I'm seriously considering looking up the local chiropractor after this one. I could see any money this kind of work might generate would go straight to the Back Quack. Well, the masseuse, anyway.
Blue or Gray, Union or Confederate, I still think the backsplash turned out okay. Was I successful in uniting the two different colors palettes?
Here are the before shots...ignore the miscellaneous crap lying around...that's mostly my mess.
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I found myself in project mode again. Hubby was gone for the weekend, and I always find some trouble to get into when he's away. This was fairly benign, however...merely painting the red wall in the living room. (The red HAD to go since I just painted the adjoining kitchen wall a lovely eggplant. Now the red was just blecchhhh....) The only real difficulties in this project were moving the incredibly heavy TV from the corner, and painting around the piano, since it can NOT be moved. It's a mere 4 inches from the wall at its closest, and folks, 4 inches just isn't much to work with. (nyuk...)
But this isn't really about painting a wall. Or climbing atop my piano (which makes me about as nervous as a whore in church), or crawling under said piano and banging my head about a gazillion times while at the same time, wishing my arm were just that mere 4 inches longer so I could reach that spot in the corner.
It's about my sweet little ice chest I've had forever that now needed a serious facelift. It was still the same color as when I purchased it some 15+ years ago and was really out-of-place after painting my wall back to a neutral color and changing up my wall decor.
As usual, hubby was a tremendous help. He started sanding her down for me and got me going with the power tools and I finished up the sand job. Then he thought he'd be quite helpful and spray the primer on for me. Philly is genius at 99.9% of the tasks he sets out to accomplish. This was the .1%. He was a bit overzealous with the spray can and ended up with puddles of primer on the top of the chest, and drips down the sides. I now affectionately think of him as my Big Dripper.
I didn't take pictures of this because he managed to get it all sanded down again. I don't know if I would have done that to him anyway. 'Cause let's face it. When it comes right down to it, I screw up WAY more stuff than he does, and he almost always has to fix it. Plus, he's pretty much a saint. Well, sometimes. <3
Anyway, here's how my sad little chest started out:
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I really wanted to tear down the kitchen wallpaper and update the kitchen.
Hubby said, "no way."
Instead, I chose to hear, "Let's tear down the wallpaper in the kitchen!"
Then... "But the wallpaper is neutral and not offensive at all!" he argues.
One of the voices in my head responds, "Yeah...but wallpaper in and of itself is offensive...."
The wife was willing, but the husband was weak resistant. But, as we all know, resistance is futile.
And so the kitchen renovation begins. I wish I had taken more close-ups of the before shots, but at the time, I had NO idea how huge this project was going to become....
The Before.
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In the words of Sarah Connor, this is more for me at this point, just so I can get it straight.
I've discovered so many ridiculously clever, cheap, and (sometimes) bizarre DIY fanatics online that I've decided to become one.
There. Now I'm one of us.
And since I'm only beginning, I'll post a picture of my most-photographed subject.
Our Doggie. Eddie. He's a rescued Miniature Schnauzer. Although he really rescued us...
Best. Doggie. Ever.
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