LifePundit

Extremely Cheerful Valances Finished

I think I'm happy. The good news is that I finished my valances (after twelve years of living here....) The good news is that I finished my extremely cheerful valances. The question is -- how much extreme cheerfulness can I stand? (CLICK ON PHOTOS TO ENLARGE.)

Lily loves them, and they hang where she does her homework and I work out. So there. It's a huge success. I will not say out loud: What was I thinking? They're only a little over the top. No pun intended.

To see "before" photos, click this post. I prefer bathrobes to curtains. I couldn't think of what I wanted to do with these windows in The Void. The Void needed something, though, to tie it together. To give it some, well, cheerfulness.

Can you be too cheerful? Not me. Not even close. These valances might be, though. Lily and I picked out the fabric together. I was going to do a sophisticated black and white woodcut-looking graphic, but I think she thought it looked scary, and she loved the blue flowers.... So, we have blue flowers. I'm sure they will grow on me. Then there was the fringe. The valances I picked out in the book, The Complete Photo Guide to Window Top Treatments, had a fringe on them, which gave them a finished look. I think I should have skipped the fringe, but I already bought it and the medium-sized girls who were spending the night all thought it was great, so we have fringe. The circus has come to town.

They're in two parts, a complete black and white stripped valance below, with a blue-flowered topper on top. (Where else?)

I didn't have craft paper, so I used Christmas paper to make the pattern, which I highly recommend. Here's the pattern for the black and white valance.

And here's the pattern for the triangle-shaped topper, hanging in place while I try to figure out exactly what I want here. (It was highly tempting to stop with the striped under-valance.)

I hate to sew, but I have a great machine to use and never hope to have another one. It was my grandmother's and I think it is older than I am. It is one of my most highly valued possessions, because it works. It does two things, and it does them very well: it sews forwards in a straight line and it can sew backwards in a straight line. That's all I ask. And in spite of its tiny size and age, it can sew through anything. I need to get it in for maintenance but I don't know whom to trust it with. It is that nice. Every sewing machine person who ever saw it wanted to buy it. Not for sale. This old portable Singer sewing machine is one of the best designed, most well-made things on the planet. Now that I've said that, it will die.

The plan for the rest of the room is to hang up black-framed photos of happy events in our lives. It's hard to bring myself to put hammer and nail to freshly painted walls.

Anyway. The valances are done. And I'm so very cheerful I think I'll go paint roosters on my kitchen cabinet doors next.

Festooning the Void

This is a paid post but it fits right in with what I'm scheming to do. We got The Void painted and got rid of the Bowflex. I was hoping for blue-green but got blue. It's a blue I like so once we got it painted we quit and skipped the idea of the colorwash. It was hard enough to get it painted blue. (There's somebody in this house who would dispute the use of the word "we.")

I went to the library and got all of their books about sewing valences (sorry, other patrons). It's really hard to get excited about curtains, valances, or other stuff than can be frumpy or ostentatious. It's extra hard when the books you are looking at are all from the '70s and '80s. Not that you'd think valances would change all that much. Then, I found a book with some really attractive things in it. Not sure what was the difference. I'll write about that later and give you the book's title.

So I've picked out a simple design that uses two fabrics, which solves my problem of deciding between my two favorite fabrics. Now I need to measure for the fabric and find the curtain rods, or poles. I really don't like to sew, but how bad can this be?

That's why I'm writing this ad. I need curtain rods, window poles, whatever you want to call them. I'm going to start by browsing at http://www.terrysfabrics.co.uk/cat_curtain-poles.php. Terry's Fabrics has helpful advice, such as how to measure your window for poles, (they call them poles, and I can go along with that). They've got a nice inventory and some interesting designs to consider.

I haven't decided how fancy I'm going to get on this. I start out ambitious, and end up doing something like buying a placemat from Target and hanging it over a curtain rod. (I have seriously done that in one bathroom, and it looks fabulous, actually!)

I will post pictures when I'm finally finished. I'm sure you can't wait.

We actually have done some fun stuff around here. Well, it was fun when it was finished.

To read my advertising policy, click here.

What to Do About Too Many Framed Photos

If you don't have this problem right now, you will someday, so listen carefully. One day you'll think you've finally got your mess/house under control. The next day, an aging relative will downsize (or worse), and you'll inherit all their excess stuff.

Or, if you're me, your aunt will die and your parents and your in-laws will decide to downsize. That's three households worth of stuff.

Some of it will be better than your stuff, so that will be welcome. Some of it is worth money, even if you don't like it, so that's a dilemma. (The nice thing to do is to give it to a sibling or relative who actually does like it. Forget the money, if you can.) Some of it I can't tell you what to do with, because it's sitting in corners and under beds in my house, waiting for Somebody with Wisdom, who is not me. Perhaps Lily will get to deal with it some day.

When my father inherited his mother's stuff, he did what was perfectly rational for him. He built a warehouse on some property he had and put everything in it. How's that for not dealing with the problem? (He was a contractor.) For a while it was like having a store for all the kids and grandkids who were getting their first apartments. You go pick out your furniture. When you move on or up, you return it for the next one. Most of the stuff is still out there, though. Including a wardrobe containing all of my grandfather's suits and the ribbons from his funeral flowers. (He died before I was born.) I guess one day we'll get to deal with the funeral ribbons, etc.

In the meantime, I've got a problem with framed photos, many of me. I'm sure nobody around here needs to look at me in all my glorious stages of development on every wall. I have duplicates, too, from both grandmothers, my aunt and my mother in some cases. It's humbling to know that those sweet ladies framed my photos and apparently displayed them for their pleasure.

These things carry emotional weight. And take up valuable real estate. What to do?

A friend, whose husband is a fabulous portrait painter, came to my rescue. You take the photos out of the frames, put them in a scrapbook, and then either re-use, donate or toss the frame.

So that's what I did last night. The duplicates are in the trash. The photos are in an album. The frames are dealt with. I've been set free!

Anybody Got Any Good Ideas for a Valence Design?

Update 2-12-2008: I see a lot of people Googling "How to Make Valences" and ending up on this post. I finally got the valances finished and you can see them here. The book I recommend on that post, which I got from the library, has excellent ideas on very attractive, stylish valances and shows you how to make them, though you do need some sewing skill and intuition for some of the plans. The Reader's Digest book recommended below is very good for beginners and others who need a refresher. Good luck and please leave a comment!

Original post here:

Lily and I agreed on some fabric for the valences, which is great news.  (No, the room isn't finished and the garage sale where we were going to get rid of Bowflex and everything else with our neighbor has been called off. Paul went to a Bat Mitzvah in Philadelphia and forbade me to paint last weekend because I paint exuberantly and he didn't buy that much paint. When I am forbidden to paint, I quickly find other ways to fill my time.)

Anyway. Just looking for suggestions on a valence design. I can sew. I just hate to. I used to write myself instructions on how I was going to make something before sewing -- step-by-step instructions. Then I would proceed to drink while I sewed (I really hate to sew) and would just follow the instructions. Now my heart pounds and races when I drink (unknown reason but heart checks out fine) and it is so very unpleasant and scary that I'd rather sew sober. So, you know how scary that heart-pounding must be.

For more help, try this Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Sewing. The styles in this book are old-fashioned but the techniques are easy to understand and use. You can do anything with this book.

If you want something custom made out of great fabric so you won't have to take to drink and start sewing, check out polkatotdesigns.

To see the atrocity in progress, go back to this link and click on the photos.

By the way, I'm not throwing ads at you. The Reader's Digest book is out of print (I think) but used copies are out there.

Thanks!

Our current do-it-yourself project

I'm a sucker for home improvement shows. Paul is not. He can see what's coming, so he changes to the tennis channel or the clean your toilet channel or any channel that does not involve a couple happily transforming their home in a weekend. Yes, I know those couples have professional help and money from the network, but that doesn't mean we couldn't add another room next weekend....

Actually, our whole house is a home improvement project. We built it ourselves, we being defined as Paul. But I'll write about that later, after I'm finished talking it over with my therapist some more.

Because we built the house "ourselves" and because we barely moved in one month before Lily was born (and I was working full-time so we never really moved in), there are some spaces that are still asking to be decorated the first time, much less getting a makeover.

One such space is a large, nameless, formless void at the top of the stairs. As you know, nature abhors a void, so this one is filled with stuff that doesn't go anywhere else. Or can't fit anywhere else, to be more precise. Or stuff we just don't know what to do with. And also things bound for the attic that haven't made it there yet. I get depressed every time I walk through there. And I walk through every time I walk into my office or go into Lily's bedroom or the guest room, which as you know from Domestic Rule #3: Use your guest room for storage, is really barricaded to prevent unwelcome guests.

One day recently I glimpsed the tail-end of "Trading Spaces" and saw a vision of what I want to do with this space. The room they had done wasn't a bit like our Void but that's no reason not to go with The Vision.

Everything goes but the exercise equipment, a bookcase, desk and Lily's computer station. We'll paint the walls blue-green and accent everything else with black, since the exercise equipment is black. All those family pictures that suddenly came my way when three family members closed their households will be reframed in black frames, and I'll make black and white valences for the windows. It will be sort of understated and dramatic at the same time. I have no idea what that means, but I think what I'm trying to say is that I will smile when I see it and when I'm exercising I won't get meaner and madder than usual because it's a soothing, happy color.

We're doing all this this weekend. Except for the sewing part, and the re-framing part, and probably the painting part. And certainly the part where the smiling happy couple is just having a really nice together experience.

Here's how far along we are already. I picked out a paint color. Then Paul said, "Why don't you do some kind of textured or faux paint (he didn't say faux, though he speaks French, he's not a faux-sayer but that's what he meant) because those &*($&@#()& framers I used messed up this one place....."

The place isn't perfect, but I don't see it like Paul does. And I enjoy faux painting and special effects. We've sponged the kitchen, rag-rolled one bathroom, leatherized another (Ralph Lauren special paint that costs a fortune and does not resemble leather or any other substance in the known universe -- if it hadn't been so expensive and hard to do, we would have painted over it. Funny how that works.) I've painted a sunburst on the dining room ceiling and we painted harlequins in the Prayer and Poker Room (where he plays cards with his friends and I meditate and pray -- talk about a multi-purpose room!). Oh, and I've done suede paint, too. And marblelized some furniture. I'm not artistic, but I can follow directions.  I listen to books on tape and get great pleasure out of the whole process. At least for the first two hours.

Anyway, so I abandon my paint chip and go to Lowe's for something fun and special that will hide the framer's little oddity.  And after much agonizing over which color and texture the whole family likes, we finally select two and go to Lowe's to buy whichever is cheaper. I won't tell you how many hours it took us to find this out (and we ran through FOUR sales people), but both of the paint types we selected are new and on the shelves -- and not in the computer yet, so they could not make them the colors we needed. They were unable to tell us when they would be able to sell us the paints! And though they had the stuff, they could not tint it!

Well, now. We go to plan B, which is to just buy some of this other stuff that they promise they can tint for us. It is also a special effects paint, and I know better, but I am so over the whole paint selecting business that I just select a color that sort of resembles the color I previously selected. So, they go to get the paint for us. Turns out it will be $300 just for the bottom coat!

To paint The Void?

So I'm back to picking out paint chips. All I want is a happy blue-green. We find one in one of their color idea catalogs. Then I pick up the paint chip that is supposed to match. The catalog color and the paint chip color, though they bear the same name, are not similar. One is blue and one is green. We ask paint salesman #4 to find out which is right. We never see him again. I take a bunch of paint chips home.

We decide on a beautiful blue-green color, which Paul picks up and brings home. He slaps some on the wall. It is not blue-green, though it is a pretty shade of blue.

And I look at the paint chip again. Why did I think a color named "High Noon" would be bluish-green? What planet's sky is blue-green at noon?

We've already bought the paint. I may put a green colorwash over it. I may not.

I call my niece, who is an architect and very good at these sorts of things, as well as everything else. "I can't find a blue-green," I say.

She's been looking for one, too. And says she can't find it.

And now I know why. Outside of the Crayola box, there is no blue-green.