Dresser refinishing project

Boy was this a big project to tackle for a couple of beginners. Actually it was really just one beginner. I played a minimal role in the whole process of refinishing this awesome mid-century dresser (credenza? lowboy? sideboard? who knows).

We found this diamond in the rough at the RE Store in Ballard. It's a fantastic place to score some really great old architectural bits, odd plumbing parts, sweet doorknobs, lighting, tools, and much more.

The poor thing was pretty scratched up, but we saw through it. There was a brand name pressed into one of the drawers, proclaiming it a "Dixie" - much research on the web yielded next to no info about the company, but I did see a few similar pieces for sale in online vintage shops. The craftsmanship is pretty nice, with good solid drawers and a reasonably thick veneer, making it the perfect candidate for a little restoration.


Dave sanded. And sanded. And stained. And cussed. And shellacked. And sanded. And shellacked. And cussed. And polished. And in the end, it turned out gorgeous.

We opted for a dark walnut stain with some nice warm golden undertones. It really helped to bring out the pretty grain of the wood. (I have no idea what kind of wood this is. If anyone can ID it by the photos, please tell me.)

Check out that shine. And we loved the old drawer pulls so much that we kept them, despite being a little beat up from years of wear & tear.

I painted the recessed area behind the drawers a deep chocolate brown to make them pop a little bit more. I also made a simple table runner to protect the surface from all our gear - no pics yet...sorry.

I'd guess we spent about $75-80 total, including the cost of the actual dresser + stain, sandpaper, and other refinishing materials. A good project, with much learned and much to be done differently the next time around. But all in all, a roaring success. The best part? It's really good at storing all of our crap!

Progression

Crochet class is over. No children were wounded. And I made something. I actually made something. Here's the progression:

First I practiced rows of crappy stitches. Note the hourglass shape from when I unknowingly kept decreasing and increasing stitches in every row.


Then I made another hourglass shaped...thingy. I am very good at making hourglass shaped thingies.


And then suddenly I made a granny square. It happened so quickly I didn't even know what hit me. The instructions, the symbols in the pattern - they all made sense!


And then I couldn't stop.


Cute little buggers.

I think I've just found my new favorite thing to do. Much more excited about this than I ever was about knitting. Hurrah!

Old dogs

I signed up for a two-session beginner’s crochet class held at a local fabric store, and my first class was last Saturday. To my delight, only two other people were there – which meant that I could ask all the questions I wanted without feeling like a dope, and get plenty of hands on demonstration. I’ve tried to teach myself to crochet for years now, and books and youtube videos just don’t cut it. I need a physical person showing me exactly how to hold the yarn. I need someone sitting next to me so I can lean over to show them my mangled row of stitches and ask, “what the hell have I done?”

One of my two classmates is a very nice older woman who is right where I am – fumbling through each and every stitch and just trying to learn how to hold the dang yarn. My other classmate is an odd and freckled 12ish year-old girl who knows it all, who scoffed at my technique and informed me “That’s how I crocheted…when I was SEVEN.”

She proceeded to fly through the tutorial (without hesitating to tell us all that she already knew how to do this) and complete a perfect granny square before the end of class. The other lady and I ended up cross-eyed and stiff, with split overworked yarn and a few misshapen rows of single and double crochet. Which I was immensely proud of. At the end of class, the girl told me, “It’s a good thing this class is so long, because you really need it.” I contemplated stabbing her with my tiny blunt crochet hook, but then her mom came to pick her up and I thought better of it. Just kidding. Maybe.

I realized, during that class, that my brain works differently now than it did when I was twelve. I never thought this would happen. I used to be that girl. My knowledge now fills space like the way that water fills a watering can. You can only fill so high, and then the water starts to push out the spout. So that little spot in my brain that I previously used to identify different varieties of goldfinch? The birds have been pushed out, and now it houses a tiny library of crochet stitches and hook sizes.

My only satisfaction in the matter is that someday, that vile little snot of a girl will be in her late 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and she’ll want to take a class or learn a new skill. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll sit down at a sticky round table in the middle of a fabric store, and be humbled by the stalling pace of her own mind.

Super Simple Recipe Box makeover

My recipe box and I had a stare-down last night.

Hello, recipe box. You are rather unattractive.

Olives & Garlic. How quaint.*

So I browsed the mighty interwebs in search of a cute replacement. These beauties from Rifle Paper Co. have been making their way around design blogs for a couple weeks now. I want one, bad. But they are $120 each, good god.

This little woodburned owl recipe box is awesome, and a little closer to my price range.

And I love the woodgrain file cards that come with this file box.

And you can't go wrong with a mint-green vintage tin.

But ultimately I decided to save my pennies and work with what I had on hand to give my old box a facelift. I pasted some fancy patterned paper onto the outside and covered the whole thing with glossy acrylic gel medium (kinda like mod podge) to seal it up and make it wipe-able. (Probably smart if your box is going to hang out near the stove next to splattering sauces and such.) I finished off the edges with some simple trim/ribbony stuff

And now it is cute.



The end.

What do you use to hold your recipes?

*I KNOW that a dear relative gave this box to me for Christmas. It is a perfectly good, functional box that I've had for years. However. It needed a makeover. Don't be offended. I love you. Bye.

Homemade Laundry Detergent: The Verdict

Last weekend I made my first batch of homemade laundry detergent. This week, I got to try it out. The results?

I'd call it a success. I washed a load of sheets and a load of towels, and they feel...well...clean. Things of note: this soap is veeeery low sudsing. The only bubbles I saw were from leftover store-bought soap still clinging to my re-used bottle. Also, the soap left no fragrance at all. Just. Clean.

But I got to thinking. How do you officially deem something clean? I mean, it's obvious with things like mustard stains and dirt. Clean = dirt/mustard gone. And it's obvious with smelly things. Clean = smell gone. I realized how much I depend on the heavy fragrances that are usually in my store-bought laundry detergent, and how I automatically equate "mountain breeze" with "clean." So I sat there smelling my sheets forever wondering, "are these really clean? I don't smell anything!"

So fair warning: with the recipe I used, there is zero smell. Which makes it perfect for folks who are sensitive to perfumes. Honestly though, I like a little fresh scent to my clothes and will probably try A) adding a few drops of essential oil to the next jug I pour from the master bucket or B) making my next jug more concentrated and adding less water. The soapy gel mixture actually does smell kind of nice - maybe keeping the concentration higher will help it stick around.

Long term, I have no idea what the effects might be on clothes. I've read that some detergents can wear out clothes more quickly, and this also depends on the washing machine. I wish I had a washing machine laboratory so I could test this out, washing load after load and watching how quickly my blacks turn to grays. No. Actually I do not wish for a washing machine laboratory. That sounds boring as hell.

Here's what I know: we make life far too complicated. If you're anything like me, you probably won't even notice the minute difference in the rate of wear on your crappy old navy hoodie while using homemade soap. Are your clothes really that nice? If so, then you're probably getting them dry cleaned anyways. Or hand-washing with woolite. So don't freak out. Just give it a try.

And don't even get me started on the controversy about using special soap in HE front-loading washers...talk about making things more complicated for ourselves. Yeesh.