I think I mentioned my childhood dollhouse experience, and my commitment to not allow the same sad fate to plague my own daughter thirty years from now. But ... good intentions aren't always realized. We've been so busy and this project is so overwhelming and ... Kidding!
The first step to any dollhouse-construction project is to determine a color scheme. I mean, you don't have to I guess. You can glue it together and slosh whatever paint you have all over the unsanded, bare wood. Like the gloppy leftover stuff in the back of the basement closet. It worked for me as a child, and the effect was rather like a third-world outhouse. I pointed this out to Mud Pie when she was in the throes of impatient agony. "We could use hot glue and poster paint, but if that's what you really want, let's return the kit and tape some cardboard boxes together."
Paint is important. Paint is probably more important than getting the windows in straight and the door on right-side-up. Ok, maybe not, but it's important. The kit instructions clearly say to paint before handling the pieces, to sand after each coat, and to be a totally anal perfectionist (as opposed to an overly eager 9-year-old girl). Unlike with my childhood dollhouse's many little bottles of craft acrylics, we're using Benjamin Moore paints. We can get sample pints mixed up in eggshell finish for a reasonable charge, which will be more than enough for our project.
So we looked at dollhouses (and houses) online, decided what she liked (NOT pink or purple, heaven be praised) and went to Benjamin Moore's website to try out some color schemes. Their Virtual Paint Your Room app is astounding. We picked a house with the features of our dollhouse (trim, shutters, and, uh, walls) and tried paint combinations until we were happy with the result. Mud Pie's conclusion:
Sadly Mud Pie had to wait until yesterday - a full Two Days after unwrapping her dollhouse - to get the paint. Poor darling. Wait until I tell her we next have to label all the parts with sticky notes!
How to overcome childhood disappointments through vicarious living, Or: building the Victoria's Farmhouse kit by Real Good Toys
Flashback to 1985-or-so. More than anything else in the universe a certain little girl wanted a dollhouse. A real dollhouse made of wood, with real wallpaper and tiny furnishings with drawers that opened and teeny tiny plates and cups and pillows. Imagine her delight when the gift she opened one Christmas (or maybe birthday - her memory is a little spotty sometimes) was a real, true dollhouse kit! Oh the joy and delight!
Flash forward several long weeks of, "when can we build my dollhouse? When when when?" Until her parents were so annoyed they finally cleared the dining table, put down newspaper, and opened the box. "Yay! My dollhouse!" quickly became, "What do you mean we have to paint the pieces first?"
Flash forward more weeks of dust collecting on the yet-unpainted dollhouse pieces. "I can paint it myself, really really I can!" So she painted (some) pieces. She may have made a mess. She may have been told No More Painting!
Flash forward again. Dinnner guests! Pack up the dollhouse pieces, let's set the table!
Flash forward an undetermined amount of time with much, "WHEN ARE WE GONNA MAKE MY DOLLHOUSE DAMMIT!" to finally unpacking the box of partially painted pieces. Add in the little girl deciding to build it her own damn self but giving up after reading one page of instructions, then changing to, "I CAN PAINT IT WHEN IT'S ASSEMBLED JUST BUILD IT ALREADY!!!" Soon the little girl's dollhouse had a foundation and three exterior walls. Yay! At last!
Flash really far forward. The dollhouse with no paint, no siding, no trim, no interior walls or second floor sitting on the floor of the little girl's bedroom, atop the box of largely unpainted pieces. Can you see it? Imagine years going by, and the little girl's best friend accidentally sitting on the dollhouse, breaking the foundation.
At some point it was fixed, some interior walls were added (or at least the second floor), and she painted the damn thing without any damn siding because she was so damn sick of looking at bare wood. She then donated it to her church because she was now a teenager and was too old to give a crap about dollhouses.
Would you believe me if I said that I was that little girl? What a sad, sad story, and ever-so sadly typical of my youth. Just like the fake Cabbage Patch Kid I received and cried my eyes out over because it was the uggliest doll ever made.
Flash forward to today. My little girl (who received a Cabbage Patch that she didn't especially want several years ago) opened her much-longed-for Christmas package. The worktable is set up in the basement, and once we pick paint colors, we'll be ready to rock and roll. I will not let my daughter relive my childhood. In fact, this will be the Great Childhood Reclamation Project! Come back and check on our progress!
Filed under:
Childhood Reclamation Project,
Life as We Know It,
Mud Pies and Messes
It's That Time of Year Again!
Revised and updated, please enjoy my little Advent eBook, Gloria! A Family Guide to Advent and Epiphany. Share freely!
Filed under:
Did You Say FREE,
Happy Holidays,
Holiday
Paprika: My New Cooking BFF (as compared with Pepperplate, BigOven, Yummly, Allrecipes, etc.)
Once upon a time I was trying to find a recipe I *knew* my grandmother had sent me in an email, and I *thought* I'd saved it in a Pages doc somewhere, or maybe it was still in Gmail, or on an archive disk. Or maybe ... Plus I had at least a dozen folders of bookmarks with Must Try or Recommended recipes, eats I never remembered when I was doing my bi-monthly meal planning. I needed a way to keep my cyber-recipes organized and all in one place. Google to the rescue!
About the same time I got my first tablet, a little Android thing for Mother's Day that broke in the first few weeks. But not before I discovered that one of the sites for collecting recipes also had an app. Bonus! I ended up downloading and using Pepperplate, and continued to use it with my inherited-from-my-son first gen iPad, and my current iPad Mini. I continued to do most of my organizing via my MacBook Pro, however, for the simple reason that Pepperplate's app doesn't allow you to add recipes. An annoyance I could work around, though it grew annoying. If only they'd make a few changes to the app! But then I started to worry. Pepperplate hadn't had an update for their app in a long time, if ever, and the service is free. Would it disappear from cyberspace, taking all my recipes with it? What other options did I have? So I did what any OCD pregnant lady would do, and started looking.
Some of the main players are Yummly, Allrecipes, Evernote Food (or something like that - I'm not into the whole Evernote world), BigOven, Pepperplate and Paprika. I have specific needs and wants for a recipe organizer, so while I downloaded Allrecipes and Yummly, I didn't really play with them very much. They don't meet the minimum requirements of: Must be able to add my own recipes/edit the recipes I keep, Must have a meal-planning feature, Must be available offline because, believe it or not, I'm not always connected to the internet. I actually really liked Yummly and Allrecipes for finding new meals, so I'll probably keep them around, but they won't be my go-to apps for cooking or meal planning (and I could just as easily browse their websites so when my iPad is full, they'll go).
The three that did meet my stringent and demanding specifications (ha) I'll look at in-depth below.
1. Bigoven
Cost: $20/each and every year forever (assuming the price never goes up!)
What I like:
- The meal planner at first glance is awesome! I can drag-and-drop meals to reschedule them, and it will even integrate the weather forecast, so I don't go planning a dinner of grilled pork chops when it's going to rain.
- I also like that I can check off items I already have before adding them to the grocery list.
- I can add recipes from supported sites with one click. Smooth and quick.
- The built-in recipes look yummy, and the "use leftovers" function is sweet.
What I don't like:
- Adding items to the menu involves a scroll-wheel-thing, which doesn't work well with my visual mind.
- There's a definite limit to supported websites, and adding recipes from non-supported sites is a pain in the arse.
- Not all that intuitive to use and I'm not fond of the colors/weirdness.
- Ads, ads, everywhere ads! Blech!!! Look at the screen shot above. It's crazy!
- And the cost to get rid of ads, have unlimited recipes, etc. is truly absurd in the app world. I mean, $20 a year? Every year? Forever?
2. Pepperplate
Cost: Free!!
What I like:
- The grocery shopping list is quite intuitive, and I can move aisles around to match my store. They don't always *stay* moved around, mind you, but in theory...
- I can change servings of a meal when I plan it. Useful if we're having guests, etc.
- The layout is highly simple, clean, clear. Easy to read, search, etc. It's the best looking of the three in my opinion.
What I don't like:
- I can't reschedule meals easily (at all?).
- I can't tap a meal in the planner and pull up the recipe.
- Ingredients get dumped en masse into the grocery list.
- Sync is slow and grocery items often sync incorrectly.
- I can't add online recipes from my iPad at all.
- Adding from websites (from my computer) often doesn't work, as there are very few supported sites, and adding manually is slow.
- Limited to one timer, and one recipe open at a time.
- Often loses it's place when I switch from any other app back to this one.
3. Paprika
Cost: $4-ish for the iPad app, another $4-ish for the iPhone app. They sell a Mac app too, but I don't think it will be necessary.
What I like:
- Relocating planned meals in the planner is fairly easy. I do wish it were drag-and-drop, though.
- I love being able to tap the meal in the planner and go straight to the recipe.
- Same with the shopping list. If I have an item and I wonder, "Gee, what recipe needs two cups of fish sauce?" I can tap the item and find out!
- Sync works great.
- I can "pin" several recipes and toggle between them. So if I'm making chili and cornbread at the same time (how daring!), I can easily pull up either recipe without having to leave one and search for the other.
- Likewise, each pinned recipe can have it's own timer. Now THIS is awesome.
- Importing new recipes is a breeze. There's a built in browser that's fairly fast and imports from almost every site in one click. No joke. I was testing out how it worked with non-supported sites and really had a hard time finding one.
- For those rare blogs or sites that aren't supported, cut and paste into the app is done on the same browser screen and is EASY. Truly.
- Plus, if I'm browsing in Safari and run across a website with a great recipe, I can copy the addy, and when I open Paprika, the app will automatically ask if I want to open that link, thus saving me the steps of clicking to the browser and pasting the addy in.
- I haven't played with the "pantry" function, but I *think* I can tell the app what I have on hand so those things won't go on my grocery list. I'd rather check things off individually like BigO does, but I'd have to use this feature more to say more.
- Like Pepperplate, I can scale a recipe when I add it to the planner. A nice feature for a big family where many/most recipes end up doubled (or more!).
What I don't like:
- It gets tedious to change categories in the grocery cart. I wish the cart would just LEARN that aluminum foil is with Cleaning Supplies and not in Home and Garden. Is that so hard?
Conclusion: Although I like Pepperplate's price best (who wouldn't?), Paprika's ease of use is so superior, it's worth the normal "app" price of $4-5. Even paid twice, it's worth it. It could be improved a bit, but that goes for almost all apps. It's an invaluable kitchen tool and opens a whole world of culinary exploration that doesn't involve buying/storing dozens of cookbooks. If I seriously couldn't spend anything, Pepperplate would be ok. It would limp along and sort of serve my needs, kinda. BigOven, on the other hand, though really cool and packed with recipes, is just not worth the annual fee. Had it been a flat $19.99 purchase price, maybe I would have considered it. But that cost every year? I just don't dig subscriptions (another reason I don't do Evernote). Paprika does all BigO does, much of it better, all of it for a teeny-tiny cost.
Filed under:
Delicious Delights,
Technological Insanity
Forgive Me, My Beloved Scrivener, for you have no iOS
Dearest Scrivener, after these several years of our shared bliss, I confess ... I have been unfaithful. You did not provide the one thing I so sorely need. You promised, oh how you promised. Year after everlasting year you boasted, "It's nearly here! Be patient dears!" All for nothing. Empty words, disappointment after disappointment. I could wait no longer.
Since 2011 Literature & Latte has been proudly forecasting a "Coming Soon!" iOS version of Scrivener. Apparently the app is still in development, but a growing contingent fears the promises will end in vaporware. I wanted to remain one of the faithful, but with four-going-on-five children, most of my writing happens in parking lots, at swimming practice, McD's play place, the park, etc. etc. And with the gear Mommy-Pack-Mule must schlep to these places (jackets, hats, diapers, toys, snacks, sippy cups, "Mack" the Magical Blanket...) my trusty MacBook Pro simply will not fit in the old saddlebag. But my iPad Mini will.
So I cheated, Scrivener darling. I downloaded Storyist for iPad and the free trial for my Mac. I read reviews and comparisons, transferred over my WIP and discovered the delight of total writing freedom!
I will (possibly, I hope) write up my own detailed comparison. But thus far Storyist is more intuitive and easier to use than Scrivener, and for my current WIP it has every feature I could want. So you see, my dear Scrivener? We may adore you, your beloveds, but our patience will not last forever.
So I cheated, Scrivener darling. I downloaded Storyist for iPad and the free trial for my Mac. I read reviews and comparisons, transferred over my WIP and discovered the delight of total writing freedom!
I will (possibly, I hope) write up my own detailed comparison. But thus far Storyist is more intuitive and easier to use than Scrivener, and for my current WIP it has every feature I could want. So you see, my dear Scrivener? We may adore you, your beloveds, but our patience will not last forever.
Filed under:
On Writing,
Scrivener vs Storyist,
Technological Insanity
What to do when you royally f@ck your Chalk Paint: Decoupage!
Remember the Craigslist changing table? Remember the chalk paint? The problem of over-distressing? Yes? Good. Because my crazy alternat plan involved gluing bunches of little pieces of paper to it and covering it with Polycrylic. Yes, that would be decoupage!
What is decoupage? It's a decorative technique that involves covering something with glue-soaked fabric, paper, etc. and topping it off with a clear finish. There's an official craft store decoupage glue-and-finish in one, but I find watered down Elmer's and Minwax Polycrylic more cost effective. So here's how it works.
1. Prepare your surface. Typically a good cleaning is enough, but since I was going over fresh-ish paint, I wanted to rough things up a bit. I had good help!
2. Find the right images. Anything can work. Pages from old books (I'm just unable to rip up books, so I had Dr. D print pictures on the color laser printer), newspapers, old calendars, that pricey scrap booking paper, thin fabric, your kids' drawings, etc. assemble your papers and cut or tear as desired. Then give them a dip in plain water. Not too long. Five or ten seconds. Enough to make it supple without turning it to mush.
3. Coat or dip your paper in your glue wash. I use one part glue to maybe two parts water, but it needn't be exact. Milky color and texture. I dip small pieces and use a sponge applicator for larger ones. I also keep some straight glue and a tiny paintbrush on hand for tricky bends and corners.
4. Apply to your surface. I often moistened that with glue-water too, then smoothed it on with wet hands or a wet brush. Don't overwork it or the paper could tear, though you will have a few seconds if you need to reposition a piece, etc. A tip here: I find if I need to fit an odd spot it is much easier to cut the paper while dry than when it's wet! And smaller pieces are easier to work around curves than larger ones.
5. Once dry, put coat after coat of Polycrylic over top. I sanded lightly between coats for this, but on other projects I haven't. Same result.
Enjoy!
Rowdy is a bit big for this changing table, but it works! Her coming baby sibling will fit just fine.
Filed under:
Craftiness,
Home Deprovement,
Name That Bump
Nesting Gone Awry: DIY Chalk Paint with Diatomaceous Earth
The best thing about Craigslist is finding treasures for cheap. The worst thing: cheap treasures often need a good helping of TLC. Take this incredible changing table, for example.
Oh, but do let the paint cure a bit before distressing or you might end up rubbing off the paint in big chunks. Since the white was so very WHITE and stark, I added a bit of patina by making a paint-water wash and applying carefully around the edges. Be warned: chalk paint devours color and it's very easy to over-distress a piece by doing this! Steel wool too tends to leave a gray coloration over the finished product.
White, but peeling and scuffed, and at some point in the past touched up with a shade of white not quite the same as the original. The solution? Fresh paint! And since I love the creamy look of chalk paint and hoped to match the other antique furniture in the nursery, my choice was easy.
Next step, look up recipes online and realize I don't have the slightest idea where to buy calcium carbonate locally, and don't want to wait for shipping, don't like the idea of plaster of Paris dust around the kids, and I just happened to have this in my garage:
Again, easy answer. 50lbs of diatomaceous earth (bought for chicken keeping) would be more than enough (as in waaaaaay more than enough). My recipe: 1/4 Cup DE, 1/2 Cup paint, 2 Tbsp water.
First scoop your DE and add the water. Then whisk until smooth-ish.
Whisk some more after adding the paint. I used a basic Valspar white.
Here it is after the first coat:
You can see how nice and thick it is, though it clearly needs a second coat.
Ah, better. It dried very quickly. Like ten minutes. I then took it inside and distressed with all the typical tools of the trade.
One could finish with wax or a coat of varnish of choice: poly, minwax polycrylic (my pick), shellac. See below the drawer post-distressing.
Remember that thing I said about over-distressing? Yes, I did that. Above is just the drawer. I really went to town on it after that. I felt the piece looked more shabby than chic, so much that I didn't even take pictures. After some tears and profanity I decided to go a different route. Decoupage! Fun! That lesson is coming soon.
Filed under:
Craftiness,
Home Deprovement,
Name That Bump
Coopdelicious: Construction of a Chicken Coop
As promised, a post about the building of our chicken coop. No lessons or measurements or blueprints because it's been a while now. Just lots of pictures and a few words. Or a bunch of words. I don't know yet! How exciting.
Step 1: Get chicks. I suppose it would be smarter to build the coop before getting chicks, but really, there's nothing quite like a tub full of ever-growing, increasingly-smelly little fowl to motivate one to build a coop. Especially in Michigan in March. Below is their second home, as they'd outgrown the box in the basement, and I'd outgrown my tolerance for stinky birds indoors. (Note: when given room, say, in a coop, chickens are NOT stinky, or at least not usually.)
Again, lots of help. Have children if you have to, because they're great with power tools.
Another reason for building a raised coop: the platform makes a great stage! Until the walls go up.
Which leads to Step 5: Frame in the walls! This is where a plan is quite helpful. Know where your windows will be, nesting box, door, door to the run, etc. A nesting box you can access from outside the coop is a big plus, as are windows that open from the outside. And a door that opens from the outside, since chickens can't open doors very well.
Step 6: Time to add walls! You *could* stick plywood over the whole thing, if you're going for that "Outhouse Chic" but we opted for bead board. Notice the nesting box base. It's removable for cleaning! Am I smart or what? This is the point where you'll start to think, "D@mn, this is awesome! And I'm putting chickens in here? I want to live in this!"
Step 8 (I think): The birds will need a way to get up into the coop, so you'll need to build a ramp with something on to help their slippery chicken feet grip.
The nipple dripping water nicely.
And chickens need food. They tend to perch (and poop) on anything that's stationary, so hanging food from a chain does wonders. It keeps them from perching (and pooping) on their food bucket. Always a good thing.
Step 1: Get chicks. I suppose it would be smarter to build the coop before getting chicks, but really, there's nothing quite like a tub full of ever-growing, increasingly-smelly little fowl to motivate one to build a coop. Especially in Michigan in March. Below is their second home, as they'd outgrown the box in the basement, and I'd outgrown my tolerance for stinky birds indoors. (Note: when given room, say, in a coop, chickens are NOT stinky, or at least not usually.)
Step 2: Decide where you want your footings. Decide on the size of your coop. Decide on basically everything because a coop is not something you can build-as-you-go, unless you want it to look like a third-world outhouse. Ours was 5'x5' on a slope near the compost bin. Dig your holes for your 4x4 posts, if that's how you're designing it. We dug ours about 1.5-2' deep, I think.
Be sure you have plenty of help. That dirt could have blown away in an instant, seriously. She held it down nicely.
Step 3: Put your posts in and cement in place with Quickcreat. Use a level to make sure they're straight! That quick setting concrete really does set up in minutes. Amazing!
Step 4: Now start building the platform. We opted for a raised coop for several reasons. 1. better protection from predators, 2. Better air circulation in the summer, 3. A built-in outdoor shelter beneath the coop so the girls can still be outside on rainy days, 4. It just sounded like more fun. I mean, if I were a chicken I'd want a cool tree-house coop, wouldn't you? Ok, lots of ways to frame the platform, but this was what worked for us. Metal thingies and screws and 2x4s.Again, lots of help. Have children if you have to, because they're great with power tools.
Another reason for building a raised coop: the platform makes a great stage! Until the walls go up.
Which leads to Step 5: Frame in the walls! This is where a plan is quite helpful. Know where your windows will be, nesting box, door, door to the run, etc. A nesting box you can access from outside the coop is a big plus, as are windows that open from the outside. And a door that opens from the outside, since chickens can't open doors very well.
Step 6: Time to add walls! You *could* stick plywood over the whole thing, if you're going for that "Outhouse Chic" but we opted for bead board. Notice the nesting box base. It's removable for cleaning! Am I smart or what? This is the point where you'll start to think, "D@mn, this is awesome! And I'm putting chickens in here? I want to live in this!"
Step 7: Add those little details: windows, nesting boxes, the drop door the chickens will use to access the run. Unless your coop is tall enough to stand up in, do as much of this before putting the roof on as possible. Or, if it's snowing, the roof might be better put on now. Hmmm.
The drop door is on a pulley system with the cord coming out by the nesting boxes. Perfect for easy access, though we've found we usually just leave it open in the summer and closed in the winter. If they didn't have a fenced run, however, we'd close the door at night. Raccoons are nasty beasties with a taste for chicken.Step 8 (I think): The birds will need a way to get up into the coop, so you'll need to build a ramp with something on to help their slippery chicken feet grip.
All done! Um. Not really.
Because don't you want to Paint it?!? See below the nesting box and the cord that operates the drop door.
Step 9: Think through the interior. Is plywood water resistant? No. Will it be getting wet? Hello, do chickens pee? Yes, yes they do. Cover the floor with something that will be easy to clean. And cheap. We opted for self-stick tiles. Sadly this made the kids sort of jealous.
Step 10: The fun stuff! Ok, it's all fun, but here you get to think of the little details. How will the chickens eat? What will they drink? After weeks of cleaning out poppy-bedding-filled waterers, we opted for 5 gal buckets with Poultry Nipples in them. Drill holes in a bucket and try not to think about Dear Liza and her issues with holes in buckets. Poor Henry. Below a nipple wrapped in a bit of plumber's tape:
The drill bit used to drive the nipples.The nipple dripping water nicely.
Finally, rig up some roosts high enough to keep the birds happy, and make them sturdy! Because these Mother Cluckers get BIG! Here's our happy flock several months after moving in. Pine shavings on the floor, and yes, the nesting boxes have curtains. Girls need a little privacy, you know. Seriously though, curtains will help keep the birds from pecking at/eating the eggs or sleeping in the boxes. The sleeping-in thing is serious, as birds do an obscene amount of pooping while sleeping. We closed off the nests altogether until the girls were ready to lay.
Add a run (unless you plan to totally free range, though do remember that thing about perching and pooping - your deck may never be the same) and you have a healthy habitat for happy chickens!
Oh! I wanted to add: the total cost of this project was about $200-250, largely because we got many of our supplies free or cheap off Craigslist. After a year plus of use, the coop still looks bright and cheery. We ended up installing a heat lamp and running a cord out to keep it warmer in the winter, and put a birdbath deicer in the water pail. Happy chickens all winter long!
Filed under:
Cluckadoo,
Home Deprovement,
Life as We Know It
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