"More wada-wada, Baby. Please."

Charlotte gets funnier, speedier, and more interactive every day, and we're all enjoying her antics. Just this evening she decided she was big enough to pull herself into a standing position both in the tub and at the coffee table, and her exertions were met with much applause and praise. You'd think she was the first baby ever to stand.

Here's a funny video highlighting some of the many, many sounds and pseudo-words Charlotte likes to share with us:

So you caught that funny wada-wada-wada noise she makes by running the back of her hand against her mouth? Baylor really, really likes that, and he lets off peals of happy laughter every time she makes her noise. Today she was doing it and he was laughing, but then she'd stop and he'd get this really sad and disappointed look on his face. Then he'd say, in his funny little soft voice, "More, Baby," while making the sign for "more." She's eventually start up again, he'd laugh, and then she'd stop, causing him to again ask for more. It was so cute. At one point I asked him use the word "please," so his request turned into a haltingly articulated, "More, Baby. Please." Later she was making the noise again, but this time Baylor got specific. He'd say, "More wada-wada, Baby. Please."

Well.

We think Charlotte is pretty darn cute. I hope you concur.

Party on the Patio

So last post I hinted at needing a patio for my super sweet new-old patio furniture. And guess what? My husband delivered!

Our house didn't have any backyard patio space, so we knew that we would want to, at some point in time, put in some sort of patio. The opportunity came sooner than expected: My folks had a ton of pavers that they had dug up from their house, and they offered them (the pavers) to us at no cost. Stephen hauled them across town, laid them out in the pattern and space we wanted, and then got to work over the weekend. He dug up the ground to a depth that would roughly match that of our sidewalk and got the dirt as level as possible. We decided on a dry set patio, meaning that we simply laid sand over the freshly dug ground, set the pavers on top of the sand, and then used sand to fill in the cracks when all of the bricks were laid. It seems to have worked marvelously. And all told, we spent $15 on the whole process. Not bad.

Here's Stephen starting the hardest part of the process, the actual laying-down of the pavers:

Ouch. My knees hurt just looking at him.

I'm sure he wasn't feeling very smiley when I commanded him to smile.

Before I show you the finished product, you should know that, for the better part of this past weekend, our house looked pretty redneck. Dug-up ground, plastic toys everywhere, a patio set precariously set on our bumpy, weedy lawn, merrily-colored underwear and t-shirts littering the clothesline. Stephen worked really, really hard to get this finished by Saturday evening, and he succeeded! I think me incessantly fretting over the condition of our backyard may have helped provide him incentive.

Anyway, here's the patio:

Looks great, eh? If you look to the right of the next picture, you'll see that we even have a little room to go until it lines up with the sidewalk, in case we feel like expanding it in the future.

And just because I think Charlotte's sprouty hair looks funny in this next one, I'm including it. (Please ignore the Cozy Coupe. Doesn't everyone with young children have one of those? Our neighbors, whose sons have grown out of Cozy Coupes, gave us ours. So it was free, as opposed to the $50 price tag on the Little Tikes website. Yeesh.)

You may commence congratulating Stephen and gushing over his work ethic. Honestly, he is amazing. But then again, we've already settled that my love language is having him do stuff for me around the house, so I guess he knows he'd better be amazing.

And lest you think Stephen was the only one working off his bottom this week, I'll have you know that I am also sore and pathetically tired from my antics over the last two days. Yesterday I rode my bike, with Jack and Baylor in our on-loan bike trailer attached to me, to and from my parents' house. My folks live over 2 miles away, across town, and I have to cross a bridge over a major river as well as go through three busy stoplights to get there. I honestly didn't think I would make it home. Honestly. I prayed out loud to God. He saw me through, but I thought I might have a heart attack.

And then today I pushed myself beyond my limits yet again, but this time I did it edging the lawn.

Hmm, you say. Really, Christine? Edging the lawn pushed you to the limits?

Yes, really. See?

 

Several things about this picture stand out. First, we have a manual edger. (Thus the fact that, yes, I pushed myself today.) Hey, it's all I've found at the garage sales so far, so it had to work. Our lawn was in desperate need of a manicure, so the old edger it was. And using it very nearly gave me another heart attack.

Second, I am doing the edging as opposed to Stephen doing the edging. Well, he mowed the lawn today, plus he put in a patio this weekend. Plus I was the one itching to get it done, and I just did it without asking. I'm sure he would have done it if I asked, but I didn't, and I don't think he's complaining.

Third, and most importantly, notice my attire. I didn't dress for yard work today, to say the least. I am wearing a sundress, flip flops, earrings, and makeup. Yick.

But the important thing is that I got a good portion of it done, and I feel great about how our front looks now. I would include a picture of that if it wasn't simply, you know, a neatly edged lawn. Pretty boring, truth be told.

In closing, I'll share a conversation between Stephen and me while he was helping me collect the excess dirt and grass from the edging:

Me: "What would we be doing right now if we didn't own a home?"

Stephen: "I guess we'd be watching TV."

Me: "I'm so glad we own a home. I like this work."

Stephen: "I'm so glad we don't own a TV."

And there you have it folks. Some of our major opinions, summed up in one simple conversation.

Happy lawncare!

Garage Sale Finds (Weak Title...Sorry)

Perhaps you've learned by now that I can't resist a good garage sale.

Or even a bad one. Really, I'm not picky. I just might take a perfunctory glance at your junk, thank you, and then race off into the sunset, in pursuit of better sales.

But I digress. Raechel is an avid garage sale visitor (I can't wait until we visit her family in a couple weeks, because we'll be there on a Saturday!), and she likes to do a weekly run-down of what she has found for how much during her Saturday garage sale runs. I like that idea, so I'm going to follow suit.

So here's a tally of what I've found over the last two weeks of garage sales. First off, the best purchase of perhaps the entire summer:

$15.00: Wrought iron patio set (redneck clothesline optional)

I almost died when I saw this. And then I almost died again when I saw the $20 price tag. And then I very nearly died, fell over, and screamed in pure delight when the gal selling it said, sure, she'd take $15.

I've had my heart set on finding a patio set, and I was looking for one just like this: old-fashioned, metal, and definitely not harboring a lick of plastic. This is just perfect. It probably needs a coat of paint, but I might put that off till next summer. For now I just like to look out my window and gaze at it adoringly or, if we're actually outside, sit in each of the chairs for equal lengths of time (I don't want any of them to feel left out) and lovingly pat the table top. I think I'm in love.

Now I just need a patio...(hint, hint of a post to come...)

Oh, and:

$.25: Woven planter (on top of the table there)- I saw these at The Seventh Circle of Hell this week for $5.

Continuing...

$.50 (I think): Pair of boy's play shorts

$2.00: Child's bicycle helmet and several coloring books

$7.50: Weed eater- This one deserves an explanation. My folks and I decided we'd go together on a weed eater, as they sold theirs (long story) and we both find ourselves needing to trim grass on a regular basis. My mom and I found a basic gas-powered trimmer that works fine, and we talked the guy down to $15. Well done, I say.

$2.00: Manual edger (also for the lawn, obviously)

Next, a picture featuring several garage sale finds from the past two weeks:

(You should know that the shirt

I'm wearing in that reflection

was bought at a garage sale.)

$7.50: Buffet lamp- Little more than I would normally spend, but I made the rookie mistake of falling in love with it. It was marked $10. I asked if she'd take $5. She said $7.50. I said, "Okay."

$1.00: Silver(ish) candelabra

$.50: 6 white taper candles- Here's a funny story. When I pulled my wallet out of my purse to pay for these babies, I succeeded in also drawing out a sanitary napkin. You know, a pad. I played it off like it was no big deal, like it didn't even happen, and the good lady who was hosting the sale didn't say a word. I think her grandchildren were rather scandalized.

$2.00: Antique mirror- This one also has a good story. I went to this yard sale, and the lady hosting it went on and on about how she does flea markets. You know the kind of flea market seller: Lots of crap, very little treasure. She clearly had no discerning eye for actual value. This was how her yard sale was, and I happened to spot this little number amidst all the junk. I asked her how much she wanted for it, and this was her response:

"Oh, that is an antique. Really, it's great. It just needs some repair around the frame. If you or someone you know could do that, it would be a real treasure. I normally refurbish everything, but I've been ill. [I've left out a long explanation of her illness.] It's worth about $100, but I'm asking $2."

Two. Dollars.

Please understand that, in relaying that story to you, I am making fun of this poor woman. She was a hoot. I paid her the $2 and made off with my junky mirror that, chips and all, had stolen my heart. I love it above my piano, and I can't wait for the day that some antique snob offers me $100 for it.

Finally, a find that wasn't really a purchase, but actually a gift from my grandmother:

Free: Old-fashioned watering can- I've wanted one of these for awhile after seeing a similar arrangement (see below) at our local Overpriced Flower Shop. They were charging $35. After securing this one from my Grammy for nothing, I then spent approximately $4 on flowers (vinka vines and a miniature rose) and had my very own arrangement.

(Please ignore the dirt. Again, hint, hint.)

I love beating the system.

Share your garage sale finds! Happy Sale-ing!

Dribble

Oh, dear.

Who gave these children ice cream?

Who let these children wear only their diapers while sitting on the front porch while eating ice cream?

I know one thing...

Their mother is going to hear about this.

Bloggy Break (Summer Leave, Perhaps...?)

I promise I'm still here.

I've done this from time to time, you know. I write regularly, inspired by whatever bloggy muse keeps me active in the blogosphere, and then suddenly, without warning, I have nothing about which to write. Nothing.

Oh, my life goes on, I assure you. I don't just sit in a frustrated, failed heap on the floor, letting my wailing children walk/crawl all over me in an attempt to rouse me from my stupor. Far from it. The last three days we (the kids and I) have gone to the library, eaten ice cream bought from the neighborhood ice cream man, visited a couple garage sales, braved the evils of Wal-Mart, walked with the whole family to Dariy Queen, and spent every possible extra moment playing outside in the backyard. The boys love their wading pool and their wooden swingset, Charlotte loves crawling around and discreetly eating sidewalk chalk and weeds, and I love lounging around, drinking sweet tea, and working on my tan.

It all works out for everyone's best interests.

Although Stephen informed me last night that one of my legs is actually more tan than the other. Shoot.

So you see, while my brain might not necessarily be in blog mode, the Cases still go rolling along. Quite merrily, in fact, if the happy grins despite bug bites, sun burns, and a rash of earwigs seeking shelter from the humidity are any evidence.

We'll continue lounging, playing, sunburning, and just generally enjoying summer in the hopes that it will all provide some bloggy fodder for your reading pleasure. In the meantime, get out there and play yourself. Summer is short, and I keep a memory of cold, sunless, endless days stored near the forefront of my mind, lest I get all weepy about the sticky, hot weather.

(Just for the record, I hate earwigs.)

(Insert visible shudder.)

Linking You to Happiness (Version 6.22.09)

So I've poked around the internet recently, and I've come across a few things I feel need to be shared. Guess what? I'm sharing with you! You lucky duck.

1. Have you ever seen The Story of Stuff? Perhaps I'm way behind on this, but Stephen and I watched it for the first time last night, and we very nearly applauded. It sums up so much of what we believe is true: consumerism is empty, we are wasting finite resources, and we can change the system. It's a 20 minute movie, so be prepared to give up some time for it. But it's fast-paced and very, very interesting. I enjoyed it immensely. It's right up there with Serve God, Save the Planet. And if you haven't read that one, please do. Now.

2. On a slightly less serious but no less important note, there's a New Moon teaser trailer out. And when I found out about it a week or so ago, I watched it six times in a row, no joke. I can tell you exactly which scenes they switched around for the trailer to get the most dramatic effect. No joke. Also, I can predict (with 99% accuracy) just how much time Kristen Stewart will spend standing around looking anguished with her mouth wide open in this movie. No. Freaking. Joke.

(I'm predicting 86% of the time she's on-screen. And 79% of her time off-screen.)

3. If you're a Twilight fan who enjoys laughing at herself (or himself...erhm...), then this fairly recent xkcd comic is just for you. There are a few choice words, but look past them to see the true humor in it all. It means so much more if you've experienced the trolls of the intertubes yourself.

4. And if I haven't yet solidified myself as a true and loyal nerd, then I'll seal the deal by recommending you watch trailer 4b here for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

(Did you know that when this book came out my sister and I went to a midnight release party? And we dressed up: She went as Sybil Trelawney, I went as Severus Snape, my all-time favorite HP character. I had a dark mark and everything. Hey, here's some photographic proof:)

(Our friend Tyler, the one riding my mom's household broom, is dressed as Draco Malfoy, and our cousin Zach came along because there was nothing else to do. He did not dress up. He thought we were crazy. I can't imagine why.)

(Three of us were out of college and one of us was married at this point. I'll let you guess who was married.)

(Also, you should know that I have started re-reading Half-Blood Prince again, for possibly the fourth time, in anticipation of the movie this summer.)

5. I can't get off this vein. Our friend Jeremy recommended that we check out this YouTube video, where a clueless girl attempts to explain the plot of the Star Wars movies. Her thoughtful friend has included helpful animation. Hi. Larious.

6. Finally, I'll close by recommending a book. My sister-in-law lent me The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, and I absolutely could not put it down. I know, I know, that's a cheesy thing to say. But it's true. Stephen gobbled it up right after me, and he likened the book to a train wreck, saying, "It's horrible, but you just can't look away. You're fascinated." By the time it was all said and done, I had gotten my husband, mother, and sister to read it, and they all agreed that it was a winner. Basically, it's a memoir about some terrible living conditions that are so inexplicably wrong and backward in light of who the author's parents could have been and what they could have done. Jeannette Walls is now a successful journalist. Seriously. Read this book.

That's all I've got, lucky ducks. Let me know if any of this rings true with you or if you have anything fun to recommend checking out.

Enter Summer

Oh, folks, it's summer.

Maybe you're like, "Well, duh. Where have you been?" And my answer would be, "Well, you know, Illinois." Here in the Great Expanse That Is Chicagoland, summer is later in coming for us than it is for those of you in, say, Tennessee. And believe me, we are rejoicing. Oh, we are rejoicing.

I haven't always dealt with harsh, seemingly never-ending winters of frigid temperatures and icy, slushy snowfalls. I grew up as a P.K. (pastor's kid) in a denomination that tends to produce transient pastors, so my family moved just about every 3 years. By the time I moved to Texas in the middle of the 7th grade, I had already lived in Kansas, Washington state, North Dakota, Wisconsin, and Illinois. I finished out high school in the dusty desert that is West Texas, and by the time winter came during my freshman year of college in Illinois, I had become something of a pansy. I distinctly remember my mother visiting that year and taking me to the mall to buy some Sporto snow boots.  And then a certain someone (who was from Michigan and should have had snow boots in the first place, I must point out) had to go and get some of her own, and we were like twin snow bunnies. 

Anyway, even going to school in Illinois didn't really produce in me a true appreciation for summer, as my folks were then living Kansas City, our home base, so to speak, which can have some of the most humidity-drenched summers I know. I went from brutal cold to icky, sticky heat by just driving a few hours west, and I couldn't truly like or anticipate the arrival of summer. One moment I was in chilly, just-experiencing-spring Illinois, the next--BAM!--it was a summer of misery in Kansas City.

After graduation and our subsequent marriage two weeks later, we moved to Oxford, Mississippi for two and a half years for Stephen's graduate work. Yes, folks, Mississippi. We loved it, but man oh man, did the summers suck. Seriously. They stretched from March to November, and never did we experience the graceful transition from fall to winter or spring to summer. I distinctly remember sunbathing while pregnant with the boys in the beginning of March. I wore shorts and a tank top. I have a great respect for people who live and die in this sort of climate. They seem a sort of hardy breed of sweaty alien to me, people who love to sit on their porches in August in a Harper Lee-esque style and wash away the heat with gallons of sweet tea. 

I digress. Really, that was a huge digression.

When we moved back to Illinois so that Stephen could teach at our alma mater, the seasons fell back into place. My renewed appreciation is probably deeply tied to the fact that we rolled into town the day before New Year's Eve. We moved in during the worst winter Chicago had experienced in 30 years, and we toughed it out like natives. We bought boots and winter coats, learned how to wrap our babies in their car seats, and let the neighbors dig us out when the van got stuck in the snow. Spring didn't raise her sleepy head until well into April, and even then we wore jackets in the evening and covered ourselves with our comforter at night. The first days of full sun and temperature past 65 were a cause for celebration, and we decided we could endure another winter if only for the promise of another summer.

And we're coming upon another summer right now, and it is joyous. It is beautiful. It is worth the days of no sun, the dry air, the ice storm that sent ice-laden limbs crashing mere feet from our family car. The steady rise in temperature has been gradual, and we have patiently waited to plant our garden and play outside.

Now it is officially summer, and we feel comfortable turning on the air conditioning, dressing in t-shirts in the morning, and dragging the wading pool out each afternoon. I slather the kids in sunscreen and swat mosquitoes while my dad grills practically nonstop. My mom and I garage sale with wild abandon, knowing full well how short the season is, and I eagerly anticipate the arrival of my peonies, roses, and lilies. We take long family walks and plan long family car trips to visit far-off places like Nashville and Virginia. Stephen and I put the kids to bed and then sit together on the porch in our wicker chairs, reading and watching the first fireflies flicker in the darkening front yard. And when the fireflies are out, I am ready to declare it summer.

So welcome, summer. We have missed you. We have waited for you with great anticipation, and we are so grateful you are here again. Please stay as long as you can.

Sweet Charlotte

Oh, Charlotte, sweet Charlotte.

You already know how to break hearts with your many moods and expressions.

You can be simultaneously serious...

Innocent...

Delighted...

And secretive.

And your feet never stink like your brothers' do.

Being a girl totally rocks.

Heartbreakers and Cookie Icing

I'm sure you don't really care to see near repeat pictures of the kids as you saw last post, but my husband has admitted that he misses us during our week-long vacation away from him, so I feel I need to show him what he's missing.

Plus Jack has really got it goin' on in a couple shots, and you all need to experience that.

Oh, except in this first picture. He was just mad here.

All right, this next picture needs some explanation. The boys are just getting old enough to understand the concept of wrestling, and sometimes they do it with wild abandon. This afternoon they jumped on each other, tossed one another around, chased each other, and just generally whooped it up. They hardly stayed still; thus the poor photo quality. And so you know, they did a great job of avoiding their sister, who desperately wants to join her brothers but just isn't quite big enough yet.

Here is Charlotte again, sitting pretty in her ruffly swimsuit.

Baylor takes his juice and cookie break quite seriously. Shoot, I would, too--we don't get juice and cookie breaks at our house. When you're surrounded by your grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-aunt, things are different.

Here's the aforementioned series called Jack Being a Heartbreaker.

(Those aren't bruises. Those are chalk marks and the remnants of cookie filling.)

Oh, my.

What you don't know about this seemingly sweet shot (of Jack graciously handing Baylor a cookie--the perfect picture of sharing) is that it's all deception. Jack licked the icing out of his cookie and then handed Baylor the sticky remnant. Thanks, brother. You're a pal.

Happy summer!

Vacation Time

My mom, the kids, and I are all visiting my grandmother, my mom's mom, in southwestern Missouri this week, and we are, I assure you, having a great time. What, you may ask, is there to do in southwestern Missouri?

Well, for one, you can pull out the kiddie pool and while away a hot, lazy Saturday afternoon.

Also, you can recruit your cousin Zach to blow bubbles. 

It's a very manly thing to do.

You can knock the wind chimes with your mini golf clubs while your Grammy-great (great-grandmother) dotes on you.

You can color all over the patio with sidewalk chalk.

All over.

And then, at the end of a busy, napless Saturday, you can chill like the cool dude you are in your Grammy's lap.

That, my friends, is what we do on vacation.

(And in case you were wondering, baby sister slept through all of the fun. Vacations take a lot out of her.)

Headband Giveaway: We Have a Winner!!

We have a winner (obviously--I'm assuming you can all read the title of this post, duh) for the fantastically semi-homemade headband featured in my last post.

Here, take another gander at that sucker:

I know, I know, Charlotte is just too sweet and you could kiss her face off. I know. But focus, for a moment, on the cornflower blue headband featuring the largish sunflower. Pretty sweet, eh?

And I am happy to announce that, after some highly scientific methods of determining the winner, Rachel C. is the new proud owner of this fine girly-girl accessory!

Congratulations, Rachel! Rachel is expecting her third baby just before Christmas, and she keeps the blogosphere up-to-date with the goings on of her family of four. I know Miss Kylee will just look simply divine with that bow. 

So you, dear readers, can get to know Rachel, too, here is a snippet of her giveaway entry:

This will be my fourth anniversary coming in September (three months from today actually) and as of this coming September, I will have spent three out of four anniversaries pregnant! I think my in-laws think we're crazy.

Ha! I can definitely empathize with her. (Except my in-laws, fortunately, don't think we're crazy. They think it's absolutely fantastic that I have accepted my chief role as Grandbaby Producing Machine. I don't think they want us to stop. Rachel, I honestly don't know which scenario is worse.)

Rachel, I'll get in touch with you about getting you your prize. Congratulations!

And as for everyone else who entered, I'm sorry I don't have more to give away. I promise to do another contest/giveaway soon. Thanks so much for sharing about yourselves and your ministries. I loved hearing from you! I am a little sad that I can't hold Lauren to her promise to make her husband pose for a photo while wearing the headband. Better luck next time, I guess.

____________________

Just so you don't think I've dropped off the face of the earth over the next few days, be advised that I am leaving for a week-long trip early tomorrow (Friday) morning. And when I say "early," I mean 4 a.m. Seriously. My mom and I are taking the kids to visit my grandmother in southern Missouri, and we are getting them out of bed at 4, plopping them in the car (where they will hopefully settle back into a deep sleep), and getting on the road. It's a 9+ hour trip, and that's without figuring kids into the equation. At least I don't think Mapquest has that feature. Does it? Because it should.

ANYWAY, we're going to be deep in lazy southern Missouri, where I'm not even sure I'll have the opportunity to post. We'll see. If not, I hope you have a fabulous week. If I am able to post, well then. Stay tuned.

Headband Giveaway!!

**UPDATE: Comments are closed! Winner will be posted shortly. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and shared some fun info about themselves.**

With all the new levels of crazy being reached recently in nearby corners of the internet (and if you have no idea what I'm talking about, then please consider yourself very fortunate), I think a little lighthearted, good old-fashioned giveaway is in order.

What say you?

Feast your eyes upon this!

No, no. The baby isn't up for grabs. She's too much fun to accessorize for me to give her up. The bow on her head is what's at stake. Very summer-ish, isn't it?

Here it is from the side.

I semi-handmade this sucker* (as in, I didn't crochet the headband--who has that much time?), and nothing would thrill me more than to ship it off to someone else who gets as many kicks out of little girls wearing large flowered hair accessories as I do.

If you've been around here long enough, then you'll remember Charlotte's first dabblings with big flowery headbands. (You'll also remember how excited I was when I ordered them.) She, miraculously, tolerates them, and I think I get more compliments on her cute hair bows than I actually do on my even cuter baby. Hmm.

I wonder how this would work if she were an ugly baby.

Anyway, Charlotte was more than happy to model this one for you, and it can be yours! All yours! All you have to do to enter is leave me a comment on this post with your name somewhere in that comment. Really, you can say anything. You know what? I'd really like it if you, instead of saying something banal like, "Yay! I want a headband." or "Yeah, that bow is way cuter than your baby," I'd prefer it if you tell me something special about yourself. Seriously. I want to know my readers better, so tell me a little bit about you in a couple sentences. Tell me what you're doing today, what your spouse did yesterday to tick you off, what TV shows you've been catching up on, how scary you think it is that I spank my children. Whatever. As long as you're not overtly hateful or disgusting, your fantastically you-themed comment will be entered. How does that sound?

If you're new to this blog or have been lurking around for awhile without a peep, look at this as a perfect chance to leave your first comment. Only one comment per person, please; more than one will get you disqualified. I'll shut this baby down sometime tomorrow (Thursday) afternoon or evening, so get your entry in before it's too late.

Here, Charlotte will show off the bling for you one more time.

(Anyone who says that bow is cuter than her is a dead man.)

Happy entering!!

*You should know I'm not a pro at this. I just see things I like, think "I could do that myself," and do it, no matter how half-assed the final product is. This is no where half-assed. I'd say it's pretty near full-assed, if I may. (Sorry. I love that word. I can't say it around the house, so I toss it around on the blog as much as possible.) Two disclaimers: 1) The headband is an adult size, although it measures the same as any baby/kid headband I have/saw at the store. It fits Charlotte, but there's a chance it could stretch. 2) The flower is on a clippie, so you can take that off, mix and match, whatever. I didn't have a matching grosgrain ribbon to cover the clippie with, and Hobby Lobby is way on the other side of town, so it's just the flower stuck on the bare silver clip. Really, it's not a big deal. The flower is huge and camouflages the clip just fine.

Okay, enough disclaiming. Carry on.

Oh, oh! And if you're reading this on Facebook, then I'll have to ask that you actually come to the blog itself (www.keepingupwiththecases.com) to comment and enter. Thanks.

Trash to Treasure: Wicker Chairs

Last post I tantalized you with this image:

I gotta say, the first word that pops in my head when I see these babies is, most definitely, "tantalizing."

I love trashed furniture. I love imagining in my head how pieces could look if someone just took a little time and effort into giving them new life. I love scouring alleys and finding junked stuff like this. Why, just this afternoon I made my husband, who is slightly embarrassed by this tendency of mine, load up a wicker table (score!) and a plastic child's slide from two different houses on an alley near my parents' house. (Who throws these kinds of things away? It's criminal.)

If you remember, I found these particular chairs in an alley, left for the trash, and rescued them. We desperately need outdoor seating but can't afford it brand-new, so I knew I needed to go another route. I practically did a victory dance when I spotted these. And, as usual, I looked over my shoulder the entire time we were loading them into our car, unable to believe that no one else has picked them up.

Now I will reveal my secrets in transforming them from garbage to beautiful, useable seating for our front porch, all for the shockingly low price of $6.88, plus Illinois state sales tax.

Are you ready? Here goes.

First, I cleaned 'em off real good with Murphy's Oil Soap, a bristle brush, and copious amounts of water. I think that the large people who had been gleefully and systematically knocking out the seats had also been rubbing gallons of mud on every available surface of wicker. I used the highest pressure setting on our hose nozzle, and the water ran brown. Yuck.

After washing them and then letting them thoroughly dry out for a couple days, I cut out the seats (they were, I suspect, the reason these chairs were left out on the curb in the first place), as well as any loose wicker edges, and spray painted the chairs black.

I used 4 cans of spray paint total. (This is where the cost comes in. I already had two cans, so I bought two more for $3.44 apiece.) Two were flat and two were satin. I figured flat and satin were close enough to not really matter in this particular scenario. I managed to spray paint my feet in the process, and my boogers were black for two days, but it was worth the black fake tan and the depleted brain cells just to see this simple yet dramatic transformation take place so instantaneously.

While the chairs dried in the garage for a day or so, I tackled the cushions. My mother-in-law had given me two hand-me-down cushions: one normal chair cushion (curved in the back) and one slightly smaller, rectangular-shaped cushion. They were faded blue denim, so clearly I needed to fashion some slipcovers. Shower curtain to the rescue.

The shower curtain in our bathroom had been one featuring the slightly overused Waverly Norfolk pattern. I liked it when we got married, and I still like it, just not for the interior of my home. It proved too busy for our small bathroom, so I cut it up and made window (mis)treatments for my kitchen, a la the Nester. 

They are called "mistreatments" because there is no sewing involved. I won't say anymore.* I think it would make some of you faint or maybe break out in nervous hives. Let's just say that they look great, stay up, and do the trick.

Anyway, I cut up my shower curtain (don't worry, I had another one on hand for the actual shower) and made these curtains a couple months ago, and I was already sick of Waverly still being in my house. I decided that, while not appropriate for the interior, it would be perfect for the exterior. Thus, my cushion covers were born.

Before and after.

I have mentioned before how trying I find sewing using my ancient Singer, and this time proved no different. Except that this time I managed to get about 3/4 of the way done with both covers before something happened that prevented my machine from working correctly. Perhaps it's dying. Perhaps I had the thread tension all wacky. Perhaps the stars weren't aligned just perfectly for optimal sewing conditions. Whatever. Suffice to say, the final 1/4 of both cushions have been mistreated. I'm okay with that. They're done.

Okay, so the cushions are done. Fine, my butt will be padded when I sit down. But wait! Those chairs have no seats! Silly Christine.

Ha! You didn't expect the finer talents of my father-in-law, carpenter extraordinaire, to come into play, did you? Actually, I don't think Dad Case would be all that thrilled at me allowing these simple plywood seats, cut to fit, to define his entire worth as a carpenter. Still, I thought it was pretty ingenious.

Oh, wait? What's that? You say that I thought of that and he simply executed my request perfectly? Well. We must make the perfect team. We should take this show on the road.

So the seats are almost done. All that needs to be done is to introduce the chair and the cushions.

Left Chair, meet Cushion.

Cushion, Chair. Delighted, I'm sure.

Chair to the Right, meet Rectangular Cushion. Also meet Extra Red Pillow from My Bed.

Also meet Insanely Large Flower Arrangement From Which the Vinka Vines Are Visibly Creeping and Threatening a Hostile Takeover of the Porch.

And that, my friends, is how, in 60,000 words or more, you turn trash into treasure.

*Okay, okay. "Mistreated" means "I used hot glue." Satisfied? It really does work. I was skeptical until I did the valances, and I'm amazed at how well they held up. I mean, how often are you moving around window treatments like that? Exactly. Hot glue holds up fine. We'll see how it works with the cushions. Maybe humidity will affect it. Maybe not. Time will tell.