No-Sew Cafe Curtains

I don't know about you, but I'm personally not a huge fan of window unit AC's. Unfortunately, they are a summer-time necessity in a hundred year old home. Why the builders of yesteryear didn't anticipate the need for duct-work...I just don't know. It was terribly inconvenient of them.

Eventually, I'm hoping to purchase one of these pretties. But until that happy day, I'm stuck with this gorgeous piece of machinery here:

Now isn't that a lovely kitchen-window view? Oh yes indeed. Its big, its bulky, its loud, its ugly, and it has this long annoying tail (aka, plug). Yet, in the summer, it keeps our house from turning into a sauna. And, since I don't have thousands to spend on installing duct-work, I must tolerate its noisy presence.

Or so I thought...until I read this mind-boggling post over at the ever-resourceful Apartment Therapy. The simplest solution: cafe curtains. Duh. Why didn't I think of that? So I set out to find a stylish pair of cafe curtains. Now if there was ever an oxymoronic statement this ---> stylish cafe curtains<--- is that statement. No thank you, shopping world, I do not want chickens, gingham, or embroidered flowers on my curtains. Don't get me wrong. Chicken, gingham, and flowers are fine...just preferably in someone else's kitchen.

Now what was I to do? Resign myself to staring at the ugly contraption? Oh, no. This Georgia girl is not to be defeated so easily. I decided to make said stylish curtains. But here was another obstacle: I don't own a sewing machine.

Drat.

But, you tell me, friends, what purpose does Pinterest serve if not to help in such a time of need? And so you have it: no-sew cafe curtains. I found my fabric on sale at Joann's Fabrics. I only spent 8!

Here's the simple DIY for you to follow.

Materials:

• Fabric 
• Curtain rod (or tension rod)
• Cafe curtain clips
• Scissors
• Heat n Bond hem tape
• Tape measurer
• Iron

First, measure your window. I measured the whole thing and then took half of that measurement. Then, I measured the width. I left myself about an inch around for a hem. Next, cut your fabric (I had mine cut at Joann's. I didn't feel brave enough with scissors to cut a straight line.) I made two curtains, one for each side, so they could close in the middle/

Next, make an inch fold to mark the hem. I folded it over and ironed it once to make a line to guide my tape. You can see this move in the above photo. 

Then, you'll take your HeatnBond Hem tape. This stuff is awesome! You'll lay that long your hem line, right up next to the fold. 

I left a little bit sticking out at the end because the tape "draws up" as it bonds to the fabric. Once you have the tape straight, fold the fabric back over, and go over it with the hot iron. The iron will be on medium heat and try not to use steam. The package says to hold it "for about 3 seconds." It definitely took a little longer than that. You can tell when it bonds because the fabric goes stiff. 

Repeat this process on each side, folding over at the corners as shown above. Be sure to go back around and trim the excess tape!

 Voila! A finished curtain! Turned out well, if I do say so my self! Not bad for a first try, anyway!

Finally, secure your cafe curtain rod. You could also use a tension rod as shown in the first picture. I wanted my curtain to be further away from the wall, however, since the AC unit is in the window. Attach to the rod using cafe curtain clips. Both the rod and the clips can be purchased at Target. They also have these available at Joann's, if you want to do a one-stop shop, but--to be honest--they are cheaper at Target. 

And there you go! All done! And it was very easy! Can you believe that the fabric coordinated so well with my painting? Talk about a stroke of luck.

I will definitely be doing this again! The project was fairly cheap as well! At least  as far as home-improvement DIY typically goes!

Cost:
Fabric (on sale): $8
Rod: $13
Clips: $6
Tape: $4
Total: $31

Making Happy

"Everyday, I try to think of one thing that went right or made me happy."

I only overheard that one sentence, but it resonated with me for the remainder of the day. These past few months haven't been easy. With the pressures of graduate school, work, home renovations, and just missing Georgia family--I've let myself get down in the dumps. (A winter that seemed to stretch on indefinitely didn't help either.) Every little thing that happened--be it a sudden gust of wind that messed up my hair, a dropped pencil, or even a rude driver--seemed to underline  my unhappiness. I don't about you, but when I'm having a bad day--I just mull over everything that happened in that day. I want to analyze every little detail that built up to create crappiness.

But overhearing the above quotation made me open my eyes. I realized that, if I'm only looking at every bad thing that happens, I'm missing all the good things that happen. Then, all the the good passes unnoticed and is just lost from our life. Sometimes, it is hard to think of something good--and the only happy thought we may be able to dredge up may be something like "my wrap tasted good" or "it didn't start raining until I was inside." But focusing our mind on searching for something happy takes our mind off of all the bad things. And before you know it, your mood is lifting.

So this is now my mission--and I hope I can stick to it everyday. Whenever I start feeling blue, overwhelmed, or lonely--I just need to cast my mind around for something good that happened that day. Good does happen--whether we notice it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not. My mom used to always say "you have to make your own happy." That advice makes more sense the older I get. You have to choose to be happy and to make happiness; only then do you start to notice all of the many blessings that you have.

Only then can you truly appreciate those blessings and, maybe, find more blessings that you never even noticed before.

Photo: Today, I'm happy for sleepy pups who manage to curl into the cutest, tightest little balls. 

Blossoms in the city

This year, I felt like winter would never end. And, sure enough, here in Maryland, winter gave one last snowy kick before dying out at the end of March. Being a Southern girl, the Georgia-muddy water in my veins was not accustomed to so much cold and so much snow. But finally... finally...winter died away, albeit unwillingly.

Strolling through downtown Frederick revealed just how sudden and welcome spring's colors and scents really are. My personal favorite is the green doors below. Frederick has so much history preserved on its streets--if I lived in this particular house, I believe I would hug my door everyday. Green is just the happiest color!

I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get my hands in the dirt. To me, the metallic smell of dirt and grimy garden hands truly signify the arrival of warm weather months. What spring plants compel you to break out the old gloves and trowel? Do you have any special gardening traditions or practices?

 

 

 

Living Small

I'm sure that people wonder why Mark and I chose such a small house to be our first (owned) home together. In the Age of McMansions,  purposefully buying a small house may seem odd. But if I've learned anything these past nine months, it's this simple truth: living small is a challenging task that possesses unexpected blessings.

Why we choose to live small:

• Living inside our means. Mark and I happen to live in one of the most expensive regions in the country. Cost of living is pretty high here, at least compared to the Southeast. I know there are regions with much more expensive price tags on their milk and bread, but, in my own experience, this state is pricey. And pricey milk and eggs means that your buck only buys so many square feet of real estate. Well, you could buy more space...but that space might crumble from beneath your feet when you walk onto it and may or may not come with critters and scary, loud neighbors. Sure, we looked at several larger homes--including one breathtaking Victorian in need of a little elbow grease and grace--but this tiny townhouse is what caught our hearts. Most importantly: we knew we could easily afford the mortgage. We wouldn't have to toast our beautiful finishes over Ramen. After paying rent for two years, an easily affordable monthly payment sounded oh so fine.
• Learning to organize. Having a small house means every inch of space must perform some task. You learn to sort, hang, and categorize like no other. In no other room is this more important than in the kitchen. The value of baskets, wall hangers, open shelving, magnetic spice tins, and stackable Tupperware becomes immeasurable. The lovely world of Apartment Therapy becomes your idea-center and life-saver. Anytime that I've thought "Man, I wish we had--" I can go to that website and instead exclaim "Oh, duh!" 
• Learning to do without and realizing you have enough. A small house prevents you from buying unnecessary items. When you're at a department store, drooling over two pairs of shoes--the work flats you know you need and those amazing stilettos your inner diva just wants--the question "Where am I going to put all these shoes?" holds a lot more weight than "I don't need those." (Because we all know wants always beats need when sexy pumps are involved.) Living small forces you to consider what you do and don't need, what's essential and what's just extra fluff. You can't take it with you when you go, so why bother with it now? Trust me, my closet has never been so lean and organized.
• Living on top of each other. This aspect of living small has also been a real lesson for me, one that I'm still learning. When you have a small house, you're always within distance to speak in conversational tones. (I just tested this out, while typing this post. It's true. A normal conversation pitch works, even though I'm on the top floor.) This smallness then brings you physically closer. You can't have "my space" and "his space." The whole house has to be "our space." One person can't dominate the whole design scheme; you have to make decisions together, compromising whenever possible. If you're going to be packed in together--it has to be a space you both love. Now, here's the other part of this bullet-point: a tiny space also means you can't have a fuss and then stomp off to cool down in another, distant part of the house. What are you going to do? Turn around and stomp a few feet away? Ban the other person from the living room? The bedroom? The bathroom? That last one sure isn't going to work in a one bathroom home. No. Instead, you have to put your big-girl panties on and deal with it. (The panty metaphor obviously refers to myself, not my husband.) Your tiny home demands it. So, for the sake of space, you also learn the importance of diffusing fusses before they get started. (Not that that's always successful, but its important to always try!) 
• Less time cleaning. Need I say more? 

So, these are the reasons we love living small, so far. I'm sure I'll have more as the journey continues. 

If you really want to see "small," check out these tiny homes: here, here, and here. 

Also, check out the Tiny House Movement. I love the ideas behind this movement. 

What are your thoughts on living small? Do you think you would like it? What would be the biggest challenge for you and your family? 

Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks

A few weekends ago, Mark and I went to our first Major League Baseball game together. The Washington Nationals vs the Atlanta Braves. Mark's turf vs. my turf.
To be honest, though, I cheered for the Nationals. Now wait....before you drag me from my home, carry me around the city, and shout me a traitor...Let me state my reasons:

1. I come from a avid football family. We bleed George red and black. From August to February, we live and breathe in the name of Herschel Walker, alternately cuss and praise Mark Richt, fly our colors proudly, and rally like no other. We say dawg not dog. And a car without some Georgia love--whether it be flag, sticker, or tire cover--belongs to no Bulldawg. So...in the face of all that foamy-mouthed ferocity... no other sport really mattered. So, no, although I grew up red-clay stained, I was not raised a Braves fan.
2. My husband lived and worked in Washington, D.C. And we still reside in Nats territory, so when in Rome...
3. That Bryce Harper is a lovely looking fellow and, man, can he clobber a baseball.
4. Papa Johns gives 50% off pizza every time the Nats win by 7. If nothing else will convince you to buy peanuts and cracker jacks in the name of Natitude, cheap pizza will.

Convinced? Yes, no, maybe so?
Convinced enough to grudgingly stow away your torches and ropes? Thanks.

Here's the thing about Mark and baseball: he stays until the last possible second. It doesn't matter the score, it doesn't matter if more than half of the stadium has given up and left. You stay until the ump has given the signal, and you cheer your bloody lungs out. If the board says charge, you yell charge. If it says make noise, you make noise. If it says stand on your head, you stand on your head.


Because you never know when the seemingly impossible comeback will happen. And that's another thing I love about my husband: he cheers loud, stays loyal, waves his fists like a maniac, and never gives up.

Playing Catch-up

Fall and winter in black-and-white.

1. Solo grew in leaps and bounds. He turned from a wrinkly, big-eyed, bumble-footed baby into a handsome little pup.
2. Mark took me to New York City and endured a day at the Met.
3. We smiled until our cheeks ached over the holidays. Also, lighter jackets were possible in Georgia.
4. It started to snow in Frederick and never stopped. Also, we found a creepily beautiful old house.
5. Solo brightened the glum weather with silly antics.
6. The trees stood naked and bare. There's just something starkly and defiantly beautiful about a winter wood, don't you think?
7. Sky and ground were uniformly grey--which is sometimes beautiful and sometimes as depressing as depressing can get. But, the sun persisted and warmed up Maryland's old cold bones.

That time when we fell off the end of the earth....

You may have noticed  that Amp and I have been missing for the past...

well....six, almost seven, months. 

This unplanned but much needed break from blogging was 

due to two very good reasons:

1.) grad school. The time-consuming behemoth.

If you've been down that dark path,

 you know what I've seen....and it ain't pretty.

2.) home renovations. In the midst of the hullabaloo

of buying a 100+ year old home, I let blogging fall by the wayside.

Then, one day, I remembered this little space. I thought

"Jeez, I forgot it again." And I entertained the thought 

of just deleting it. I mean, after all,

who really reads it? 

But then I remembered how much fun I had sharing

 our weekend photos, DIY projects (good, bad, and ugly), and

the occasional bit of roughshod writing.

So, even if no one reads it...

and even if I have to take the occasional break

(since sometimes living and moving is 

more necessary than writing)

I think I'll stick around.

And keep flinging bits of self out on the wide web,

for who knows who.