Finally posting photos from our big snowstorm on Super Bowl weekend…
The beginning of the storm. On our way to a friends’ house to watch the game.
Loved watching the snow come down Sunday night.
The pristine newness right after a snowfall is the best. Hardly anyone was out walking around and I loved being alone with all of it.
And the kids (and Sam) enjoyed it, too.
Image from: myrenovatedlife.blogspot.com
I knew configuring our gallery wall in the living room wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t realize what an insanely huge pain it would be. My Pinterest was filled with grand, eccentric gallery walls (like the ones above and below) and I was excited to get started.
I knew ours couldn’t be as grand, given our space constraints (really the only place that worked was the small space above the piano). Nor could it be as eccentric (my husband doesn’t really do eccentric), but I was determined to make it work.
Image from: laurelberninteriors.com
Thankfully, designer Anna who came to the house in October (remember the zebra rug dilemma?), had already figured out and given me dimensions. I taped out the 85″ x 40″ space on our dining room floor and began unwrapping artwork (that was still packed up from our San Francisco move last Spring).
We actually have a decent amount of art (much of it was collected by our parents – pieces they picked up from their travels to Japan, China, Germany) and all of it was acquired before my husband and I started dating (hmm, I don’t like that. We’ll need to remedy that soon). It was a challenge trying to decide which pieces went well together without looking too uniform. But it was a fun challenge and I enjoyed figuring it all out.
So now what? How were we going to transfer them to the wall? (I have to add that the art stayed on the floor like this for about a month! My husband and I both sort of ignored it, not wanting to deal with the next step.)
I’d seen articles touting the ease of cutting out pieces of paper the same dimensions of the art, taping them to the wall, driving a nail in each and voila. Simple, right?
Image from laurelberninteriors.com
Wrong. Cutting the paper to the exact (and we are exact around here) dimensions proved too difficult (I didn’t have thick packaging paper so I tried wrapping paper). The paper kept crinkling and it was hard to trace around the frames. And even if I did get to the point where I traced and cut them perfectly to size, I’d have to arrange them all over again on the wall, which was going to be a headache.
My husband suggested cutting a piece of cardboard (to the display dimensions), arranging the pieces again and tracing around them. This was the hardest part for me. I took pictures of the layout so I could recreate the display, but when I tried to arrange the art on the cardboard, it just wasn’t right. It took SO much tweaking before I was satisfied (I’m talking eighths of inches, but when you’re dealing with something you’re going to see every day, it has to be perfect).
He ended up tracing the art (using a level, to make sure everything was straight) and figuring out where the nail holes should be. Thank goodness he took over at this point, because for sure I would have screwed something up.
Then he centered the cardboard over the piano, taped it up and re-marked the nail holes on the wall (through the cardboard). He also put all the artwork up on the wall and leveled each piece.
Hurray! I really happy with how it turned out. I regret not having the painters re-paint the walls a deep gray-blue (Brewster Gray, I love you!) while they were here doing the kitchen/family room. It would have added a dimension and feel to the room, adding mystery, while also making it more inviting. But it’s still a possibility down the line and the gallery wall definitely helps pull the room together and makes it feel more lived-in.
1) Remember all that praying I did for snow back in December? The Lord answered my prayers on Super Bowl Sunday in the form of the biggest snowstorm (most snowfall – 16.7 inches) the area has had in 40 years, and the third biggest snowfall in Detroit’s history. Wowza.
This is me, getting some of the snow out of the way on Sunday afternoon. Snowfall continued through Monday morning. The girls had a snow day and of course spent a big chunk of it playing in the white stuff. Storm photos to come.
2) Snow days. Meh. (I’m a planner. Snow days throw me off my game.)
3) The most I heard about the Lunar New Year (aka Chinese New Year) was that one of the classes in the upper grades at school held an “authentic” celebration (the teacher was Chinese, go figure).
In San Francisco, it’s a public school holiday. There are parades and celebrations all over town. If you don’t know it’s a new lunar year, you are living under a rock. I miss that. The cultural diversity of the City. Maybe even more than I miss good Chinese food. Okay, I lied. I miss good Chinese food more than I miss cultural diversity. I am not ashamed.
4) Sledding rocks. Even in 18 degree weather.
5) The stomach flu came through our house for the second time in three months. This time it was back with a vengeance. The good thing is that the girls both knew the drill. “Mommy, I feel like I have to throw up!” Sit up, lean over trash can, throw up, drink water, lie down. Go team.
6) My husband built a snowman for the girls when they were sick. His name is Sara (the girls name everything Sara) and he’s a Giant’s fan.
7) I gave up Facebook and bread for Lent. I was going to give up Facebook, bread and alcohol, but I can only take so much sacrifice. Instead of logging in to Facebook, whenever I have a few minutes (or seconds) to spare I’m trying to either reach out to someone via email or text or phone, or say a prayer for someone. It’s been nice, and not as hard as I anticipated.
The bread thing has been relatively easy so far, or so I thought until I noticed an increase in my pasta consumption. And last night I had a dream about eating croutons. Forgetting about Lent, I’d accidentally eaten one. I stood over the plate of croutons feeling so guilty. My subconscious definitely has bread on the brain.
8) Let’s talk about snow plow etiquette for a second (and is there such a thing?). I’m pretty sure all the neighbors’ plow services are pushing the snow on our property. I’m not kidding! Compared to the whole street, we have the biggest piles of snow on our lawn, and on all sides of our lawn.
Maybe it’s some kind of new-kid-on-the-block initiation? I actually don’t even care. That much. The last time a truck came to plow my neighbor’s driveway, I was shoveling my own. I gave the driver a “look” (you know the look. The “I’ve got my eye on you” look). Guess what, no new snow on our property that day. Hehe.
9) So I made a Thai dish. Not from my new “Simple Thai Food,” but from an easier-looking crock-pot recipe I got from my girlfriend (who got it online). It was promising – looked and smelled yummy, but in truth it was lacking. A lot. Even after I threw in dried chillies and sprinkled the crap out of my red pepper flakes into the mixture, it still tasted just okay. Next month I’m going to try to make something from my Thai cookbook. Keep you posted.
His name is “Cocoa Cutie.”
10) Valentine’s Day was a sugar-fest at the girls’ school. I can hardly talk about it without hyperventilating. I was there doing a craft with the kids (which turned out super cute, I might add). During snack (which was served 10 minutes before lunch), I bit my lip as I watched my kindergartener chomp down a cake-pop covered with frosting and sprinkles, a pretzel covered with frosting and sprinkles and a white chocolate-covered strawberry (and we all know white chocolate isn’t even chocolate).
I drew the line, however, at the chocolate-scented bear she brought home. Its chocolate-scentedness filled up the house within minutes. He was quarantined for 24 hours (left outside in the bitter cold), which helped….until I started smelling it again and he had to go to the land of no return. Buh-bye.
11) I hate getting shocked. As in electrically shocked. If I didn’t like snow so much, it would ruin winter for me completely. Out of all the people I know, I seem to get zapped the most. What is it about me that I generate so much static?
It’s even ruining my love of the central vacuum. The body part (finger, arm, leg, foot) that happens to hit the metal rod (which happens at least 10 times), gets a shock so bad, it makes me jump out of my skin. I can see the lines of electricity going from the vacuum to my body (see above photo). I also can’t even pet my dog, because if my hand touches him for longer than five seconds, I get shocked. Aggravating.
12) Even though it’s happened several times, I’m still surprised when I order a cappuccino and get this. A rock candy swizzle stick. Huh. I’ve only ever seen this done in Grosse Pointe (not Detroit or other suburbs), so maybe it’s a local specialty, don’t know.
I wondered, maybe this is how they do it in Italy? Although I don’t remember them when I last visited (about 15 years ago) and I had a lot of cappuccinos while I was there. I looked online for some clarification and only found that some claim the swizzle stick is “a sophisticated way to sweeten coffee and tea.” Yeaaah. Do you think this gentleman used a swizzle stick with his cappuccino this morning? I can tell you right now that he did not. Case closed.
Yay! Mom was able to find a couple photos of her in the blue coat (and that’s me in the yellow parka). I wish they were a little more focused, but they’ll do. I’m guessing these were taken in Germany, or perhaps Switzerland.
I’m liking her boots, the leather purse and that candy-cane scarf. I may have to do a blog post about my mom and her 60s/70s fashions. The next time I go to Hawaii, I’ll dig through our old albums and see what I can come up with.
Re-posting the shot of me for comparison.
The first time I put an egg on the island, it rolled off. Splat. I thought “huh” and that was that. After this started happening frequently, I started to wonder if something wrong with the island. And then my favorite rolling pin fell off and broke.
Not sure if I didn’t trust my instincts or if I just didn’t want to deal with a potentially major repair issue, but I didn’t do anything about it until a month later, when I was sitting on the couch, looking back at the kitchen and thought the island looked like it was tilting slightly to the right. My husband got out a level to confirm it was slanted (off by a little less than a quarter inch) before we called Tim, our Project Manager on the remodel (and Tim, if you think you’ve gotten out of an interview, think again!).
It was a relatively easy fix (well, I don’t know how easy it actually was, but it didn’t take Tim and Marty, the carpenter, long to fix it). They were able to raise the island and put a shim in it, which was covered up by the toe-kick. It’s all good now; no more runaway eggs.
In our backyard with Sam.
My mom bought this coat in 1971 or 1972 (although she thinks it was probably the former). She, my Dad and my sister were living in Germany at the time (I wasn’t born yet) and were visiting relatives in upstate New York. One day my cousin Kathy suggested a shopping trip. Perhaps there was mention of winter sales, the details are sketchy.
Mom didn’t remember at which store she purchased the coat, but the tag tells us: Sears, Roebuck and Co. The label also reads, “Sears Jr. Bazaar” which means it was part of the store’s junior line. My mom was in her late 20s or early 30s, so that totally makes sense. Plus, she’s 4′ 11″ and I’m not sure how many stores back then had great petite selections.
The top of the label reads, “clean by furrier method only.” An online search gave me somewhat confusing and vague results, but it appears that this phrase indicated not only how to clean the item (a type of dry cleaning, or perhaps simply dry cleaning), but also that the item was made of faux fur.
When I brought the coat home from our to Hawaii last February, it was in a sad state. The lining was fading and had separated from the main part of the coat, the pockets were ripped, the cuffs on the sleeves were starting to fall apart and the suede was getting spotty (I’m assuming due to the humidity).
I had the coat repaired by a local seamstress in San Francisco (she did a great job) and after a wipe-down by me, most of the spotting was gone or barely noticeable. It still looks rough around the edges, but it fits me perfectly and is fun to wear. I feel a little self-conscious wearing it around town because I prefer to go unnoticed. But I hate thinking about the coat sitting in the closet ’til my girls are big enough to wear it, so I’m going to try and put it on more often.
Pointes of View 