Heretofore Unacknowledged Decorating Genius!

I might be a decorating genius!  Here’s the back story:  The Man and I inherited an ancient mattress many, many years ago.  It was already very old when it took up residence with us.  But it worked, the price was right ($0), and it was actually quite comfortable.  I remember lying in our bed thinking, “Boy this is a cozy bed” until the herniated disk thing happened.   The soft mattress that was once so inviting now made the bed feel like a torture rack.  Firmness was what was needed!  So we bought a new mattress set and passed the soft cuddly mattress on to one of our boys.  That was nine or ten years ago.

That old mattress came to my attention again when recently  taking on the Herculean task of swapping the furniture in Josh’s room with the stuff in the sewing room.  Josh’s bed frame had to be dismantled to make it out the door.   Off came the comforter and the sheets and the mattress cover and the foam topper.  And there was that old mattress.  The ticking was torn and the padding underneath was matted and flat.  It looked like a cast off from  a 1940’s flop house.  It was time to say goodbye.  Somehow I got that heavy thing to the top of the stairs and with one mighty heave, down it went.  It lay in a heap at  the bottom, so I crawled over it and grabbed hold where I could (the built-in cloth handles were long gone) and managed to drag it through the entry hall and into the living room.  It looked even more pathetic lying there.  

When The Man came home and saw it on the living room floor, the protestations began.  The usual comments were made about me “getting up a head of steam” and “how are we going to get that out of here”, and blah, blah, blah, so I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll just cut it up and put it out into the garbage.”  So while The Man was at work, that’s exactly what I did.  As I hacked away at the mattress carcass, I tried not to think of all the dead skin cells and other nastiness that was undoubtedly swirling around in the air and being sucked into my lungs.  It took 7 large yard bags to contain all the pieces. 

 

By the time all the ticking and batting and hayish-looking stuff was stripped away and bagged, all that was left were some springs.  They would have to be taken to the “transfer station” to be recycled, so got propped against the side of the garage for the time being.  

As I looked at them, however, I noticed that they were actually pretty interesting looking.  “It seems like a person could do something with those,” I thought.  “But what?  Maybe they would look good on the wall as a piece of graphic art!”  Boy wouldn’t The Man just loooove that!  Uh ----NO.  I wandered back into the house wondering why there seemed to be so many untapped possibilities in objects that most people consider “junk.”

Well, imagine my surprise when two days later, I opened the “Your Good House” supplement included with the November 2012 issue of Good Housekeeping, and saw this:

Apparently I’m not the only one that sees possibilities in “junk.”  That’s somehow very comforting….

The Last Five Months

Here I sit at the computer.  My little nieces (Julia in particular) have finally nagged me into writing something.  Yes, it’s been five months since anything’s been posted on this blog.  So, what am I supposed to be--­- a stinkin’ MACHINE?

What’s happened in the last five months?  Well son #3 made good on his threat (promise?) to move to Nashville.  He’s living at his sister’s house.  He has a bank job and tutors math part time.  Mr. Cambridge went with him, which enabled me to plant more flowers in the backyard with the assurance that they  wouldn’t be shredded by his powerful paws while running frenetic sprints through our landscape.  That development has given me a good measure of joy.  But the best part is knowing that without Cambridge in the family mix, I can boldly walk through the yard without fear of squishing into something unsavory.  

Another change:  all the furniture was moved from Josh’s room into Daniel’s old room, (which had become my sewing room after he got married.)  Josh’s room has more closet space—perfect for stashing unattractive bins of fabric.  The furniture from Josh’s room is cherry and well made.  It was purchased years ago at an estate sale in the little western NY town in which we lived.  We wouldn’t have been able to buy it new.  The set consists of a bed frame, two dressers, and a bedside table with a cute little drawer.  I had stripped and refinished the tops of the dressers and fronts of the drawers shortly after bringing them home some 20 years ago.  Josh has ensured that I’ll be repeating that process soon.  Especially impressive are the deep scratch marks on the side of the dresser against which he used to prop his skateboard.  Have you ever felt the platform of a skateboard?  It’s like very rough sand paper.  Just exactly what you want rubbing back and forth on your nice furniture.   My plan is to fix up the furniture (again) and create a nice guest room for the guests I imagine will show up at some point in time.  All the sewing and craft stuff that was in Daniel’s old room is now in Josh’s old room (you know, the place with all the closet space) at the end of the hall.   Happily, The Man will no longer have to view the vicious mess, that tends to appear when I’m “creating,” on his way to our bedroom.

Ah well, these are trifles, no?  What is not a trifle is renovating  your kitchen, which also happened in the last five months.  It was a job, let me tell you, to find the materials we wanted (and could afford) and to tear out the old junk and put in the new stuff.  But now The Man and I are quite content.  It’s not a huge kitchen and it’s not the swankiest one around, but we like it—a lot. 

The hardest thing has been making the switch from being a mom with a kid still in the house to a mom with no kids within 1000 miles of the aforementioned house!  It wasn’t easy—especially when going through old boxes of the kids' things.  (There’s no way to avoid stumbling upon them when you’re manically rearranging  your newly “child-free” house.)  Yes, there were some tough, weepy times had in the last five months, but a change has occurred.  It’s time to turn a hopeful eye toward the future—and I am.

Josh Graduates!

Well, Joshua (son #2) graduated from college Saturday.  We’re sure proud of him for pushing himself through all those Econ courses.  He hates the winter, but for the past four years he has managed to drive down to campus and attend class (most of the time anyway) even when it was way colder than he preferred it to be.  

We took him out to Red Lobster (his choice) last night to celebrate.   

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Too bad his sister, brother, and sister-in-law couldn’t be there—but I guess that’s what happens to the youngest child—especially when the older ones move 1000 MILES AWAY!  No, I’m not bitter—don’t be ridiculous.

He’s starting a bank job in a couple of days.  We’ll see how that goes.  He says he’s keeping his grocery store job too—we’ll also see how that goes! 

He’s a great kid.  Congratulations Josh!

Josh & friends

I WILL Have Green Grass

For years I’ve dreamed of having a beautiful backyard—green grass, colorful flowers, relaxing and attractive seating areas, maybe a lawn dwarf or two—just kidding about that last part.  Our big old in-ground pool takes up most of the backyard, but there are still “green spaces” around the edges that could look lovely.   There are two grassy areas in the backyard.  (The other areas have bushes and plantings, but they are another sad story.)  One space swings around the short end of the pool.  The other is located part way down one of the pool’s long sides.  It’s the latter parcel of land that is giving me the most trouble.   I can’t tell you how much time and sweat and money has gone into that little 18X7 foot plot of ground.   It was seeded the year we moved in and grass grew.  We had a dog (York) at the time that apparently had a nuclear power plant residing in his bladder because what came out of there certainly was toxic.  Huge, ugly spots began to appear in the precious new grass.   That was disappointing, to say the least.  

But then York went to live with our daughter—yea!  Time to try again.  This time son #2 helped me clear away the sad old grass and lay down strips of beautifully healthy, thick sod.  Of course it was a pain in the neck to run out there every day and water the grass until it was firmly rooted, but it was worth it to have lush green grass. 

 

Trouble arrived in the form of the little black puppy that Son #1 simply had to have.  Oh, he was cute at first (aren’t they all) but he got big.  Real big.  Oxford is one powerful dog 120+ pound Neapolitan Mastiff mix.  

He liked to run hard all over the backyard to stay in shape.  He didn’t seem to care about the wonderful new turf.  Have you ever seen  a clump of grass fly into the air after a golfer takes a swing?  That’s what happened whenever Oxford pushed off with his powerful hind legs.  (Only there were two clumps of grass—one for each foot.)  He also like to dig.  Oh my poor, poor grass!  Pretty soon it looked like a battlefield that’s  been carpet-bombed.  The evil stuff known as crabgrass came up where the lovely grass had been cruelly torn away by big lumbering paws.  

  

We lived with the mess  for a few years until Son #1 decided to get married and fly the coop.  He wanted to take his dog, which was good because I really didn’t want to have to tie Oxford to the back of Daniel’s car.  My heart soared just thinking about the fact that we were now moose (I mean “dog” free!)  This time I went back to using grass seed.  But first, a couple of inches of soil had to be removed so water could drain into the future grass (that waved gloriously in my mind’s eye), after we (meaning “I”) sprayed off the sidewalk around the pool.  Let me tell you something.  Removing dirt and skaggy grass is no easy chore—even on that small piece of real estate.  Ok, fast forward—the dirt had been shoveled off and dropped in the side yard.  Now it was time to rake the ground up and toss down the grass seed.  You know those moments in life when you feel giddy with excitement?  That’s how I felt a week later when the precious tiny little grass shoots made their appearance.  I watered and watered and even had some conversations with the new grass.  

Then the unthinkable happened.  We had the hottest, driest summer we’d ever had since moving to this house.  I tried to water consistently, but it didn’t seem to help.  The fragile little spears started to wilt and fade.  Heartbreaking?  Yeah, you could say that.  The worst part was the inner dialogue, “How is it that other people have beautiful yards?  What’s wrong with me?  I guess I ‘ll never have  nice grass….dirt is all I deserve, apparently….”  It was painful. 

Now we have (and I know you’re going to judge me for this) Cambridge, a smallish, but still powerful dog.   

Before you abuse me in the “comments” section, tell me--what could I do?  Son #2 needed him deeeesperately.   I thought we’d be dog free by this spring, because this son keeps saying he’s moving out.   And believe me—I had some big plans for that 18X7 chunk of earth.  As a matter of fact, I had the most gorgeous backyard in the neighborhood, rolling around in my head.  But here we are with a dirt patch and a dog—and it’s the time of year to plant grass!  What to do? 

 

You’re probably thinking I’m the biggest dolt in the world for not thinking of this sooner, but it finally occurred to me that this dog is about 90 pounds lighter than Oxford.  He could probably be blocked by a cheap little fence!  Yes!  A fence—that was the ticket!  So it is with a joy-filled heart that I report to you that the cheesy, 18 inch, green wire fence (at @six dollars per ten foot section at Home Depot) has been installed and is valiantly protecting the newly laid grass seeds.  Yes, they are safely snuggled into the earth, awaiting their glorious debut!  This is my year.  I will be one of those people with green grass, I can feel it.