A Lesson in Zoology

So we recently discovered this really fantastic walking trail near our house.  And guess what?  We found more cows!! 
I love cows! 

(Or perhaps the proper term would be cattle?)
(But I do think "cows" sounds so much more friendly)

photo by cell phone, mine

I love how they just stare at you and chew their cud and waddle around the fields.  Not that I want a cow of my own... but I look forward to visiting the cows along the trail.  Especially because our neighbor cows are rarely close enough to oogle at. 

It was here along this trail that I discovered not all horned cows are boys.  And tell me, where in my sixteen years of formal education did I come to believe that only boy cows have horns?  I clearly did not grow up on a farm. 

Please everyone, take note for future reference.

The Closet Tragedy, or How I Plan To Win My Jeans Back

 muffin top...

Have you ever put on your favorite pair of jeans only to realize that they are suddenly too small and have developed holes in places there should not ever be holes?  Oh.  Me neither...

But if I ever HAD experienced such a depressing scene in my closet with my American Eagle Favorite Boyfriend jeans, I would return to counting calories.  Like I seem to do every few months.  You know, just to get back on track. 
And back into my favorite jeans...

So I share with you my two favorite websites for counting calories and maintaining a healthy lifestyle because that's really what it's all about, isn't it?  I told Kati I was back to dieting and she corrected me by saying, "It's not dieting, it's a lifestyle."  And she's so right.  For once. (mwahaha)

Okay so for keeping track of every calorie you put in your mouth, I suggest you go here.

It's totally free and so easy to use! 

(Do I sound like an infomercial yet?) 
(Confession: I kind of like to watch infomercials) 

And if you love to make lists like I do, you will find this process somewhat addicting...  I love lists.  With all my heart.  And seriously, every time I watch my calories, I see results.  It totally works.  No fancy diet tricks, no crazy pills, just eating fewer calories.  I totally believe in it.

("Call now for your free trial!")
(Or maybe not)

And for calculating the nutritional value of any recipe, go here.  It also gives you a nutritional letter grade for your recipe.  Which I love.

This can, however, be slightly terrifying at times when you sometimes realize that what you thought was a totally healthy meal is not in fact so healthy after all.

So does anyone else out there count calories or have "healthy lifestyle" tips they'd love to share?

Death by Nylons

image

Something evil possessed me this morning as I was getting ready for work and it whispered in my ear, "Try the support nylons.  They're really not so bad."

If you ever hear this voice, turn and run. 

Because support nylons are of the devil.

I know I know you're probably thinking to yourself, "Kourtney.  It is two thousand ten, WHY are you wearing nylons at all?" 

And to that I tell you, "Because I have to.  My work makes me."

Yes, I have to wear nylons to work every day.  Except for those days that I wear knee-high boots so you can't tell I'm not wearing nylons at all because really, there's no harm in that, is there?

I don't know how these black support nylons ever got into my dresser drawer in the first place, but they seemed so innocent this morning, beckoning to me from their evil lair.  And now I remember why I hate them so, so very much.  

If you have never experienced the support nylons, let me tell you that they vacuum pack every inch of your lower body into two sizes smaller than what is healthy.  Or normal.  Or remotely comfortable in any way.  I know the idea of vacuum-packed body parts sounds appealing at times, but trust me on this one, it so, so not worth it.

image

Unless you like feeling as if your legs have turned into sausages stuffed into casings.  You know, if you're into that kind of thing.

An Upholstered Update of Sorts

How do you get your husband excited about your sewing projects?

Make a huge mess in the family room.

And by excited I mean a visible display of joy that a project is finally completed.

Or in my case, close to completed.

Enter: The Chair

And here is where I tell you that over the course of several hours, perhaps days even, I disassembled the entire cushion cover I had previously made and cut a new one. 

(My Bachelor's Degree in Apparel Design & Construction may just as well be in DEconstruction) 

(As in, I could have majored in seam-ripping, if that was an option) 

So the new cushion more closely follows the pattern of the original orange cushion and was
THE BIGGEST pain to construct.  Seriously.

So now the cushion is done. 
(Except for the one slightly bulgy corner that I may never decide to fix)

And I settled on no tufting for the back.

And then I ran out of staples.

So I couldn't finish the back.

But I will.

Very soon.

All in all, The Chair looks practically usable (although I recommend not leaning back as you will fall through the frame) and therefore he is on display in our family room until further notice.

Give me one more weekend and I might just have this thing finished.

And then on to another project...

Like the $2 chair I picked up at the D.I. on Saturday!  I am rather excited about this new chair project because it doesn't have an upholstered back.  In fact, I will not need to sew one piece of it.  Just cut and staple!

I know, you are just as excited as I am.  It's okay to show it.

Today I Am Medium

Today I watched three movies.

And remembered why I love Anna Faris.

Hung three shelves.

Rearranged the faux mantle at least four times.

Made especially delicious spaghetti and meatballs.

Refilled my stock of butter.

Found a new home for my jars and milk glass.

Abandoned intentions of making cookies.

Loved my bed.

And the couch.

Discovered the miracle of chocolate chips in a bowl of homemade cinnamon oatmeal.

Listened to The Kyle rock out two rooms over.

In the purple room.

Which is now his office.

And tried very hard to stay up "late." 

You know, past 9.

At least.

In Which Pride Is Oozing From My Fingertips

Ok ok ok so just as I was about to feel lazy about The Chair, I found THIS:

http://nh.craigslist.org/fuo/1730929949.html

IT'S MY CHAIR!!  Only it's someone else's.  But it's the same.  I found it reading this article on Apartment Therapy.  

So basically my gleeful pride is oozing from my fingertips because of two things:

1.  My chair is famous.  You know, since it's on craigslist and all and was in some way featured on Apartment Therapy.  Famous, I tell you!

2.  The writer of this article not only liked, but purchased "my" chair for $195 a pair! 

(But after further consideration, it doesn't actually say that they purchased them...  regardless, I know they wanted to) (How could they not?) 

Okay so to put it in perspective for you, this is much like the feeling of pride you have when someone tells you that your boyfriend/husband/lover-person is hot.  It's like a virtual pat on the back and a "good choice!" from a fellow lover of nice things.  You follow?  Only my chair is a family heirloom of sorts and I have stood by him while many thought him to be ugly and dated.  Let this be a lesson to you all: stand by your chair... er, man.

Stand by your [chair]
Give him two arms to cling to
And something warm to come to
When nights are cold and lonely

Well said, Tammy.  Well said. 

But There Are No Seatbelts On The Train?

Speaking of public transportation...

I was so lucky as to spend thirty minutes on the train.  There is no personal space on the train.  I was smashed up to the greasy window when I noticed my seat partner was reading what appeared to be a rather interesting novel. 

my attempt at photographing my neighbor-reader.  he is on the left. 

the woman you see on the right is a starer.

Since I was wearing sunglasses, I figured there was no harm in reading over his shoulder.  It's a Dan Brown.  But which one?  One I've read or one I should read?  I was just getting to the bottom of this when he turned ninety degrees to the left, severing my visual contact with his pages. 

Did he actually notice my eyes glancing sideways over his shoulder to read his mystery novel?

Was he reading my mind as I was reading his pages?

Did I forget to put on deodorant this morning?

Will he notice me trying to get his picture with my phone?

Whatever the reason, I was slightly put-out at his sudden change in direction and am still left wondering which Dan Brown novel was so interesting as to deny clever strangers an over-the-shoulder read.  I guess now I just have to read them all.

Then I noticed the girl across from me who was wearing a very large puffy jacket with what appeared to be a seat belt around her waist. 

But there are no seatbelts on the train? 

And am I the only one suffocating in this muggy space?

actual photo from my phone

On the train you sit two to a seat, each seat facing another.  So pretty much if you're not reading something, you're staring at the person sitting across from you.  She was reading a local newspaper of some kind.  I caught a glimpse of an ad that had "HUGE YARD SALE" written in bold letters and she turned the page before I could find out the location of such a great sale.  The nerve!  What is with people and their inconsiderate reading?  Don't they know I'm trying to read too?!?

actual photo of mystery woman (on the left)

Enter Mystery Woman B, who had seemingly bathed in a vat of alcoholic beverages just prior to boarding the train.  She sat within arms length of me and smelled so awful I forgot why I was even on the train in the first place. 

Please, for the love of all that's holy, do not enter my personal space when smelling so foul. 

Oh that's right, there is no personal space on the train.

An Urban Discovery and Other Local Curiosities

I am now what is called "a commuter."

Now that we live two counties away, next door to the cows and down the road from the pig farm, I make the daily commute downtown via Utah's public transportation.  (But doesn't it sound so chic to say you work "downtown"?) (I'm all about chic these days) 

So the bus takes me by this particular building every day.  And you know what?  I have no idea what this building is for.  But there are pigeons bursting out of it on all sides!  PIGEONS!  You knew Salt Lake had seagulls, but pigeons?  I somehow feel so urban now, as if this makes Salt Lake a more legit inner city or something.  And pigeons are so urban.

  

The bus does not take me by this house, but isn't it strange and creepy and very lost boys of Peter Pan all at the same time?  It's a treehouse?  I think?  You can barely make out the shape of the house behind all the pipes and streamers and whathaveyou hanging from the trees.  When we drove by it I made Kyle stop so I could oogle and take pictures with my lousy camera phone.  But don't you kind of want to go in there?

WARNING: THIS IS A MOTH!

Did you know I hate moths?  I have a rather irrational phobia of moths.  It makes my skin crawl just to think of them.  And would you believe that THIS monster moth was on our driveway??  I shudder.

 

So I was baking the other day and guess what?  Twins!  This must be a good omen for something, don't you think?  I mean, twins!  Twins are not so common, they say.  But they do run in Kyle's family. 

 

In other kitchen news: I burned myself on the crock pot so Kyle was so kind as to install this cautionary sign.  Thoughtful, isn't he?

 

And lastly, meet Jermaine.  This is the pirate that played a somewhat minor part in Valentine's Day 2009.  He now greets me at my desk every morning and guards my computer by night.  A fearsome sailor, indeed!

A Serious Matter

Someday in the nearish future we plan to bring a puppy into our family of two. 

While I would like nothing more than one of these tiny precious yorkies, Kyle thinks he needs a more "manly" dog.  You know, one that can catch a tennis ball or something.  (As if we even play tennis)

Kyle's family dog was a miniature schnauzer and if you ask him, there is no dog smarter or more fun than a schnauzer.  He is probably right, I mean, who couldn't love this bearded face??  (enter sarcasm)  In his defense, Kyle's family dog was less beardy and much cuter.  BUT I have my sights on something a little... fluffier...

A westie!!  Tell me, is this not one of the cutest dogs you've ever seen in your life?  And seeing as how I will (hopefully) someday be a stay-at-home dog mother (and mother of human babies), I think I should have the final say as to what mass of fur is spending the entirety of my days with me.  I choose the westie.  Thoughts anyone? 

So I have added a poll to our little blog just to make things fair.. and anonymous.  After all, Kyle tends to poll friends when we disagree on an issue (i.e. paint the family room brown or gray? or are Sun Chips a girly snack choice?)  Friends of Kyle, don't be afraid to vote with your heart.  I bake pretty dang good cookies when I get my way.

So here's a little recap of what you're voting on:

Schnauzer

OR

Westie!!!

Please, choose wisely people.  This is our family you're voting on!  And we may actually one day make a decision based somewhat on how you vote (that is, if you vote the "right" way...)

The Chair: Part Deux

So you wanted to see pictures of The Chair?  Here you go:

The Chair minus its guts, prior to painting.

After one coat of primer, 1.25 cans of black spray paint and two coats of clear gloss.

On the subject of spray paint, I much prefer the cans of Krylon to the Valspar.  The nozzles on the Valspar paint I used were so hard to squeeze that I had to use two hands and every tiny muscle in my fingers are still sore.  Krylon, you win.

I thought making the cushion cover would be the easiest part.  Wrong!  I spent three episodes of That 70s Show just making the continuous bias strip to cover the welting.  One Reese Witherspoon movie later, I had finally attached the welting to the entirety of the cushion only to find out that the cushion I made was a bit too big for the foam pad.  *sigh*  I attempted to stuff in more foam hoping to just fill it out, but now the cushion is too big for the chair.  SO.  This week I will be removing a layer of welting and adjusting the size of the cover so I can get it just-so.  Can anyone say migraine?

I would have the back of the chair done, but I realized that it is quite necessary to tuft it.  So after I fix the cushion, I will be giving myself a tufting lesson via Google.

All in all I'm quite happy with how it's turning out.  But ask me again after this week is over.

fin.

From Kyle

I came home from work to find this waiting for me--a poster board love note! Very clever, I must say.  I love that Kyle!

For Forever

photo by me

I don't know.  Is it the hormones talking?  But I'm just a little crafted out.  I think I have overdosed on creativity.  Maybe it's the five hundred crafty design blogs I subscribe to that have short-circuited the artsy parts of my brain.  Or maybe it's the fact that I've been simultaneously working on one too many projects this week.  Whatever it is, all I want to do is take a nap.  In the sunshine.  On my lawn. 

For the rest of my life.

Of Genes, Chairs, and New Best Friends

photo by me

 Somewhere in my DNA I have been programmed to believe I can and should do everything on my own.  (stubborn, maybe?)  Thanks to the internet wonder Google, I've come to think I can do-it-myself through just about anything. (Thanks Google!) Everything from homemade ganache to reupholstering furniture. 

Ah, yes.  The chair.

 

Have you not heard enough about the chair yet?  No?  Okay.  We can talk some more about the chair.

The chair who's bits and pieces are scattered all over the family room (yes I have a sewing room but how can I focus my creative energy without the TV in the background?). 

The chair for which I bought exactly 3 yards too much fabric. 

The chair which once seemed so cheap and easy to reupholster myself but is turning into a why-didn't-I-just-pay-someone-else-to-do-this-for-me experience. 

But it's all about the experience though, isn't it? 

And all those things I've learned along the way? 

And the girlish squeal that escaped my lips whilst gallivanting through the fabric store? 

Yes, that's what it's all about.

It's also about the Kyle reminding me three times in a one hour period to be sure there are no leftover chair staples hiding in the carpet.  To which I respond, "Duh!  I'm not an idiot."  And then a few minutes later I kneel on a staple.

It's also about the sense of personal satisfaction and internal roaring of feminine power that one experiences when one successfully sews a 40 year-old zipper into a new seat cushion.  And let me tell you, it is beautiful.  One of my proudest moments, I might add.

At any rate, my house may be in shambles, my laundry neglected, and my husband hungry, but by golly I'm going to finish this chair, so help me!
(But does anyone ever say "by golly" anymore?) 

image

On a somewhat unrelated note, I had the happiest dream last night that I was remodeling an old house with Claire, you know the blonde from Modern Family?  (I love her TV house)  We were the best of friends and she shopped with me as I scored a few dozen vintage tablecloths at my favorite local thrift store.  After all, what are dreams good for if you can't dream about thrifting with your best friend TV star?

Love Song?

Kyle picked me up from work one day and as I skipped merrily to meet him I made up this ever-so-clever and original song (to the tune of one of those Wizard of Oz songs.  You know the one).  I thought I'd be so kind as to share:

I'm off to see the husband

The most wonderful husband of all

He really is the handsomest man

Of ever a husband I've had!

If ever a husband I've had is hot

It's Kyle I've got

He's really hot

Because because because because becaauuusssee!!!

Because of the wonderful things he does.

When I sang my song for Kyle he laughed.

I always feel like I've succeeded in life when I make him laugh.

A Grinning Wife

The best thing ever happened: I finally made it to Home Fabrics before they closed for the night.

However, I had just 30 minutes of shopping time and therefore ran from bolt to bolt looking for that certain something for my Handsome Chair.  I'm pretty sure I rearranged half the store before I left.  I kept picking up a bolt of fabric I'd decided on and then leaving it next to another bolt that was seemingly better.  And then back to the first.  And then another.  I finally settled on a blue and white chevron weave for $6.99 a yard!!  Can you believe it?? 

Okay so I realize that not everyone is as nuts about fabric as I am, but seriously, let me just tell you that a similar fabric at Jo-Ann's would've cost me AT LEAST $19.99 a yard.  Can you imagine my gleeful excitement?  It was pretty intense.  I also picked up a staple gun (finally) and returned home, a grinning wife. 

Kyle was happy for me, but I could tell he didn't fully appreciate the good fortune of my fabric find.  When I asked him (for the third time) if he liked it he explained, "It's good.  I mean, fabric is either crappy or good, and it is good."

So... he likes it?

I decided to forego fixing dinner and changing out of my work clothes for some work on the Handsome Chair.  I recovered the seat and called it a night.  I then had nightmares of running out of fabric and having to piece mismatching fabrics together to finish the chair. 

I think I have a problem.

You Best Believe

Have you ever noticed how rainy days sometimes suck all the energy from your very bones?  Or is it just me?  All I want to do on rainy days is bury myself in a pile of blankets and stare blankly at the dark clouds.  But I did sew up a girly onesie for a BabyLoo order.  Kyle was skeptical about it at first, I could tell.  But he liked it in the end.  Good husband!

I made sloppy joes.  (aka sloppy joses, for the Spanish-inclined).  Kyle had the equivalent of three.  Three, I tell you!  I scowled at his large appetite and hoarded the leftovers for my lunch tomorrow.  (like I could get away with eating three sloppy joes?) (seriously)

We drove five and one half hours home from Boise last night. With a car packed full of stuff we ransacked from my in-laws. With the windows down. One of such things we ransacked has apparently spent its earthly existence solely bathing in a sea of gasoline. Gasoline which now has penetrated the very fibers of the car. I'm pretty sure we were high after five and one half hours of such exposure to gasoline fumes. Which might have explained our 11:05 PM sing-along to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at inappropriately high decibels. When we got home Kyle so graciously doused the car with Febreeze for good measure.

As I try to think of other such interestingness to share with Internetland, Kyle is going on and on about how great Boise State is. He just finished watching the 2010 Fiesta Bowl from the bathtub. "...September 6th, the biggest game in Bronco history!...We'll start out ranked number two in the nation... little Boise State will probably be second or third in the nation...so all we gotta do is win and we're in the national championship...probably....little Boise State....you best believe with they being in the national championship (snaps fingers in my direction) we be going...."

Do you see what I have to put up with?

It's really quite amusing is what it is.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

A Tribute

See that right there?  That mischevieous toddler on the right?  That, my friends, is my mom. 

My mom who taught me to play the piano when I was merely single-digit-aged. 

My mom who let me play Cinderella in her boxes of fabric. 

My mom who not only taught me to sew at a very young age, but who also was my saving grace my senior year of college, helping me to sew up my final line of clothing in order to graduate.  In reality, my Bachelor's Degree partly belongs to that mother of mine. 

My mom who never complained too much when I stole handfuls of cookie dough she was trying to bake. 

My mom who on the way to taking me to school one day, detoured to the Oregon coast and spent the day with me.

My mom who when I suffered a broken heart cried with me on the bathroom floor.

My mom who made me "Jello juice" to drink when I was sick.

My mom who literally saved my life on more than one occasion.

My mom who sewed for me the dress for my first dance.

My mom who listens to my non-stop chatter, is always a listening ear, and somehow manages to tell me just what I need to hear.  Every time.

I really love that mother of mine.

My mom has always had a great sense of style.  Did you see those little zebra print baby shoes she's wearing?? 

That's her on the left, the one in the stunning red dress.

Seriously, my mom was such a babe!

And she still is.  Even my mom's mom is a babe!  (See her there on the right?)  Let me tell you, I come from a great line of babelicious women.

Happy Mother's Day!

Let There Be Sight!

The world is such a different place when you cannot see quite right.

At some point in the last six months, my eyesight has degraded rapidly.  My glasses are no longer strong enough, but I hardly wear them anyway.  I prefer the aesthetic of contact lenses.  However, since I managed to get a foreign particle in my eye while sanding The Handsome Chair, I've been forced to wear the glasses. 

I went to WalMart and could see nothing properly outside of my three foot visibility range.  While somewhat amused at my circumstances, I got rather frustrated trying to navigate my way to the fabric counter all squinty-eyed.

At home I decided it was MY turn to pick dinner: Swedish pancakes.  In mixing up the batter, I mistook the apple cider vinegar for vanilla extract. 

At work I noticed a shadowy personage at the end of the hallway.  He appeared to wave at me.  I smiled and waved... I have no idea who he was.  Or was it even a she perhaps?  Or a decorative plant?  I'm really not quite sure.

I probably shouldn't be driving as I cannot read posted signs and at night the headlights of cars are like unto a blinding pillar of light.

My depth perception is also quite off, as evidenced by the time I recently missed my chair in the break room.

Speaking of the break room, I ventured over to that vending machine with the intention of purchasing a granola bar.  I entered what I thought was the code for said granola bar and out comes chocolate donuts!  Coincidence?  Maybe this vision problem isn't so bad after all; I can blame all my poor decisions on The Glasses!

Kyle?  Oh Kyle has "perfect" vision.  I'm convinced he too could use glasses, because honestly is there anyone out there who still has PERFECT vision?  I just can't believe it.  Everyone in my family is visually impaired, why must he be excluded?  I also happen to think he'd be pretty cute in glasses.

He Writeth Unto Me Rhyming Words of Affection

Earlier this week Kyle surprised me at work with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and this original poem by Kyle that he wrote in the car on a sticky note!  I'm not usually a love poem kind of girl, but Kyle's poems are sweet and yet make me laugh.  A lot.  Maybe someday I will share with you some of the others that are quite a bit more lengthy.  The one about me staring at his butt always cracks me up.  (no pun intended)

The roses were the first to wilt so I separated all the flowers and gave them new homes in my favorite milk glass. 

The carnations are so pretty grouped all together.  I love them!

I love him too!

Flashback 2 weeks ago... Kyle spent forever painting this part of the vaulted wall.  I think he just liked playing up there.  He is like a little kid sometimes and that's why I love him.  And for his silly poems.  And the flowers he brings me.  And his cute butt.

Seis de Mayo

What is up with refried beans??

They look absolutely repulsive.

They smell like dog food.

And I kind of doubt they're an authentic Mexican food.  (Can anyone confirm?)

But I eat them anyway.

Also, have you ever noticed how Doritos smell like stinky feet?  They do, I promise.

Handsome Chair

I have been saying for years about how I'm going to reupholster the old orange chair. 

Sometime during American Idol I decided to just check out the underneath parts of the chair to see just how it's put together.  Two hours later I had completely dismantled the upholstery, removed approximately 872 staples, and blistered two-fifths of my fingers. 

I would've kept going but it was getting dark outside on the patio and Parenthood was on.  I'll be sanding him tonight.  He really is a rather handsome chair. 

During the ripping-out-of-the-staples part I learned to love my needlenose pliers.  They are so much better for ripping out staples than regular pliers.  I probably could've spared myself a few blisters had I called Kyle from the patio much sooner to bring me the needlenoses. 

I was so excited about my handsome chair that I couldn't fall asleep.  Dancing around my mind were images of all the endless possibilities for his new life: Black frame?  Brown?  A crazy mustard yellow?  (Perhaps not, Kyle hates mustard) 

And what of the cushions?  A low-pile velvet?  Damask?  Linen?  How could I ever choose?!? 

I think I may have found my calling in life because I am loving this chair more than ever. 

Kyle things I just like to destroy things.  He is probably right.

P is for Projects

Today is brought to you by the letter P.

When I got home from work Kyle Promptly asked me two questions. 

First: what should we Prepare for dinner? 

Second:  What Project are you doing tonight?

I love Projects.

But you know what?  I have no Patience to carry-out Projects Perfectly.  But, I am a Perfectionist and therefore this is a very frustrating Predicament.

As you may have heard, I've been collecting a Plethora of Picture frames.  Over the last week, I have been Painting my collection of frames in varying colors of a coordinating Palette that matches Perfectly with the striped Pot I recently Purchased.

They now look like this.

I like the frames but I don't know how much I love them on this Particular wall.  I'm totally Perplexed.

Perhaps I need more frames?  (Stop rolling your eyes, husband) (Frames are good for you)

Or maybe if I Placed some Pretty mirrors in the mix?

On the other hand, maybe I should just Pick a different wall altogether.

In retrospect, it would've been much better had I first Primed the frames before I Painted them.  Since I skipped the Primer (due to my lack of Patience), the Paint Peels right off.

Whatever.

Welcome to our family room.  I Put those IKEA shelves over the TV in hopes to create a mantle-like feeling.  I'm Pleased, but not yet satisfied.  I rearrange that "mantle" Practically every day.  Also, I'd like to get away from the red and navy theme, so there will be new colors coming soon.  And drapes.  And lights.  And Perhaps more frames Please?