Monthly Archives: March 2012

Blossom

Today I decided to bring some of the spring that’s outside my home…..

 

 

Inside my home:

 

Seeing those pretty blooms on my table was almost as sweet as coming home to mom’s homemade chocolate chip cookies today.

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My Stairs–Updated

So it kept bugging me that my stairs looked a little off-balance, so I added a little something to “center” them on the 3rd step.

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Also, these stairs got featured on Home Stories A to Z!!!  How cool is that?  I’m famous. 🙂

To see the whole stair makeover process, click here.  Also, linking up here:

HookingupwithHoH

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Goonies never say die

This post is motivated by:

Here is my Pinterest inspiration:

sayings in the stairs

Source??

Flippin amazing, right?  Although I’ve seen these stairs featured on a ton of websites, I could not find a legitimate source.  Frustrating.  Most of the features link Pinterest as the source.  Of course, while this  amazing picture was my inspiration, it is also quite a bit above my skill level, so I dumbed it down put my own spin on it.

Now the world is doing everything it can to keep me from finishing this project and posting it.  First it was finding suitable words to paint.  That took about 6 months.  Next I decided to use paint markers instead of paint/paintbrush for better control.  The day the markers arrived in the mail, we took my mom to the ER and I spent most of the next week and a half at the hospital with her.  Of course, when we finally came home, I was very much behind on just about everything at home so I took an hour here and there to put some elbow grease into it.  And tonight, when I planned to do the post, I instead got bogged down meticulously gathering up my tax documents.

But I cannot be delayed any longer.  Here is the before:

If you have never been to our house, our setup is a little unique.  You actually walk in on the second floor, which is the main floor.  Then you can go downstairs to the man cave, craft room/bedroom, and laundry room.  Because of this setup, I felt it was okay to get a little whimsical on the stairs–because you can only see them from the mancave.   There’s not much I hate more in the world than carpeted stairs.  They pick up so much dirt and are impossible to clean.  This carpet actually came up a year ago. That’s how long I’ve been eyeing those red stairs.

The wood up under there was pretty banged up and pieced together, so good thing I wanted to paint.

They actually stayed bare for a couple of months, sadly.  Don’t worry, we did leave the handrail up until we were ready to paint.

Originally, the mancave was a light blue.  We wanted something warmer, so we went with a burnt orange, but we didn’t want the orange to continue all the way up the stairs onto the wall. So we taped off a line at the bottom of the stairs where the orange would end and we painted the remaining light blue wall a neutral white.  Here is my handsome being his usual weird self while puttying and sanding the wall.  We later covered the line that separated the two colors with some molding.

Here are the stairs all painted and purty (the handrail got painted black too).  We used porch and floor paint, but it definitely is not mean to stand up to the wear and tear of stairs, so it definitely needs to be sealed with a protective coat.

Don’t mind the unfinished gallery wall.

And drum roll please…..here’s how it looks now that I’ve pinterized it:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We don’t take ourselves too seriously around here, so it’s a quote from the movie Hook, a movie that Day loves.  Sidenote:  We have an age old debate going on over here about which movie is better, Hook or The Goonies.  Feel free to weigh in, but I know that Goonies never say die.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The paint marker wasn’t paint-like as I thought it would be, so it actually looks more like chalk, which is okay with me.  Kind of a vintage-y feel.  In hindsight, since there weren’t enough words to cover each step, I wish I would have started one step lower.  But hey, I’m not about to redo it any time soon, and I still like it a whole lot.

And up close:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And a little before/after action:

I’m linking up here for the Pinterest Challenge:

Young House Love

Bower Power

Hi Sugarplum

The Great Indoors

 

 

 

I’m also linking up here:

Home Stories A to Z

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dreams to remember

Earlier this week, I dreamed I was turning double dutch ropes with Mitt Romney and I kept messing up.  What does it mean???

Speaking of dreams, this song is buttah.  You’re welcome.

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Yankees (and Canadians) are crazy, y’all

You know you are from the South when you go to your first hockey game at age 31.  You know you are from the South when you stand there in shock, with your jaw hanging down to your boobs, as you watch refs stand right beside two athletes fighting, without intervening.   Does this really happen in an organized team sport???  I mean, I grew up watching football, baseball, and basketball, and I’ve seen the players get thrown out for throwing punches.  And I knew that hockey was a particularly brutal sport, but I had no idea fighting was actually sanctioned (p.s. anyone else think it’s crazy that sanctioned can mean approved or penalized?  Oh, the joys of the English language.) in the official rule book.  In hockey, you get put in “time out” for a few minutes, but actually, fighting is encouraged.

Here are pictures from the Davisons’ first hockey game.  Of course, we took two Michiganders (including one former hockey player) with us to show us the ropes.

The view from our great seats…thanks, John.

The mascot of the Greenville Drive (a little blurry):

Below is the unofficial mascot of the Greenville Drive….this guy banged on the plexi-glass anytime a player (or ref) skated near him.  Most ignored him, but if they did look his way, he simply waved.  Pretty funny.

On a sidenote: I just finished reading a book that my friend wrote, and, in the story, the main character meets Jesus.  For some reason, this is who I kept picturing as Jesus in my head.  Strange.

Here is a picture of some of the delicious food we enjoyed.  Hot dogs, pretzels, and beer were two bucks each.  Naturally such a deal could not be missed.

On our wristbands that indicated we were indeed over 21 years of age (10 years over, sadly!) was a number for an attorney who handles drinking and driving cases.  That’s what you call targeted advertising.  Don’t worry, I drove and did not partake in any alcohol, just two dawgs and half a pretzel.  Judge me if you wish, but I simply was trying to get the true American experience, for research purposes.

And last but not least, here’s a picture of  one of the three (THREE!) fights we witnessed in the last couple of minutes of the game.  Of course it’s blurry because I was freaking out–the game was almost over and I was terrified that we were going to leave our first hockey game without witnessing this fighting phenomenon.  I don’t usually condone violence in sports, but if that’s a major part of hockey, then bygod I paid good money to experience it.  Two of the fights had no passion whatsoever behind the punches, it was purely for the crowd’s entertainment.  And a good time was had by all.

So, to sum things up, never will I ever let my kids play hockey (to be fair, I’m not sure I’ll let them play football either).  The end.

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