I bought this...uh...functional wall organizer in an effort to help my husband and I (read: ME) become more organized and enhance mail communication.
It has sat in the fish-tank room for just over a year now. (Yes, we have a room in our house whose sole purpose is to access the fish tank...and apparently to house forgotten functional wall organizers.)
Anywho.
Bubbalu found it, forgotten and neglected, a few weeks ago and kindly Bubbalized it for me:
Meaning he scribbled all over the thing with the dry erase marker.
Did you know dry erase markers don't erase from cork board?
Didjya know dry erase markers don't erase from the fabricy middle thingy that I'm not sure what it's called?
And ALSO, did you know dry erase markers don't erase if they are left on the dry erase board for oh...365+ days?
Who knew?
Well, I do NOW, obviously.
So, I found it hiding in the lovely smelling fish-tank room and decided it needed a revamp. A little sassification, if you will.
Deconstruct.
Prime and spray paint frame.
Recover cork board, fabricy middle thingy that I'm not sure what it's called and dry erase board...which also happens to be magnetic. Handy!
Put it all back together again and marvel at all the sassification going on:
Now I have a handy dandy sassified wall organizer for my craft room to help me, I GUESS, organize my ideas a bit. I have occasionally been known to be slightly scatterbrained...hopefully this will help.
For more DIY projects check out A Soft Place To Land and The Shabby Chic Cottage..
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Well, I did it. I had warned my husband.
Inspiration hit and I just went with it.
Take one unused, rejected by the hubby because "it just doesn't fit quite right" white t-shirt and start CUTTING IT UP.
I love this. I really really really love cutting up shirts.
I may have an obsession.
Trace around your favorite fitting v-neck shirt and start cutting the shape out:
Trim the finished edge off the sleeves and set them aside. Use all leftover fabric pieces to cut out 2 sizes of heart shapes. I used a cookie cutter for my guide:
And ended up with a nice pile of cut-out heart shapes.
Took the sleeve edges/hems, cut them in half, and stitched them on to the v-neck:
Basted, ruffled and reattached the sleeves, then tacked on those heart shapes creating a lovely embellishment:
Then wait a week. Finally realize the shoulders are too wide, trim more off of the shoulders, seam rip the sleeves off, then reattach them correctly.
When all is said and done, your previously owned by hubby undershirt has transformed into:
Not too shabby for an unused rejected undershirt:
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I left and returned to my house approximately 399 times yesterday(Wednesday).
Dropped of Bubbalu at MIL's house and brought Lil Chick to her nine month, 9:00 appointment at the doctor....on 9/09/09. Weird. She really did turn EXACTLY nine months old yesterday. Like I said, weird.
Turns out she is still super stinkin tiny, so much so that the Doctor advised adding butter, heavy cream or olive oil to her meals. Yum Yum, eat up darlin! She hits all of those developmental markers, she's just a pipsqueak. However, a fiery lil pipsqueak. She may be small, but she's mighty.
Lil Chick is a screechy, shrieking aficionado. I sometimes wonder if my neighbors think I lay around all day sticking her with pins. In reality, she screeches when she is holding a toy, looking at her brother, or just because she's bored. You know, maybe she just wants a big bowl of butter.
We had a lovely relaxing afternoon of x-rays, medication, schlepping to the doctor and tears from Bubbalu over concerns of a broken forearm...all turning out to be a dislocated elbow. It was a trying and emotionally exhausting day. I am praising God for Bubbalu's health and intact bones.
Favorite part of my day occurred in the x-ray waiting room. This waiting room was extremely cavernous and seemed to magnify (ha! NPI) every whispered word or sound. Two year olds don't seem to get the whisper concept. At least my two year old doesn't get it. He's busy commenting on everyone's shoes, the man in the wheelchair, the lights, the gumball machine, the blue chairs...you name it. Everyone was politely ignoring him.
Then there was....silence.
Until a certain 31.8lb two year old voice belted out, "DO YOU KNOW THE MUFFIN MAN, THE MUFFIN MAN, THE MUFFIN MAN! DO YOU KNOW THE MUFFIN MAN WHO LIVES ON DRURY LANE!"
We are just the par-tay of the x-ray waiting room. You need an x-ray? Call us, we're quite entertaining. Who knows, we may even bring muffins...
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