Archives for August 2009

August 31, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

Songs of Death

000_0015 b&w In the beginning of the summer I started all these story series…my dream house, my love story, my sob story. No, I don’t think I’ve gotten to my sob story yet.

100_0622 2 b&w I just can’t seem to finish those stories right now. I’ve got too much going on and I can’t focus my thoughts in one direction.

Half my brain is getting things ready for school. The other half is trying to decide what else I can cook for dinner in one electric pan since my kitchen is still ripped out.

100_0623 sepia So you’re stuck viewing these morbid pictures. They are a creative attempt at customizing a CD jacket for some music FringeMan was working on a few years back.

They were killer songs.

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You see. Even my attempts at humor are lame.

It’s obvious I’m no photographer, but this was a great cemetery.

…as far as cemetery’s go.

I don’t rank cemetery’s on a coolness scale or anything. I’m not that weird.

100_0630 2 b@w This just happened to be a popular place (among the living) near our home in Maine. They actually photographed many a wedding in this cemetery. I didn’t bother taking any pictures of the lovely gardens though. No, that would be too normal.

We stuck to the really cool stones.

Now aren’t you glad you decided to visit the Fringe today?

I’m sorry people. I really am. Let’s all hope and pray tomorrow’s post will be better.

100_3942 Since I didn’t want to leave him sitting on a grave, I stuck him back in the pulpit for this last picture. FringeMan hates ties with the same passion he loves ice-cream. He only wears them if it’s absolutely necessary.

We visited a church one night last week because FringeMan was a guest preacher and after the service, the kids and I were left in the lobby to kill some time. The lights had already been turned off in the somewhat spooky sanctuary and FringeBoy stood at the doors, peered in, and said, “You know if a ghost showed up right now, it would be a Holy Ghost.”

Suddenly this post has me thinking of a Scooby-Doo episode and that’s not what I intended. I’m shutting up now.

August 29, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

No Regrets

Because I was in a contemplative mood yesterday, I began thinking about this summer, all 2 1/2 weeks of it. I thought of the highlights – buying our house. I thought of the low points – scraping wallpaper from the walls of our house. AND I thought about my regrets.

I regret not spending enough time in the sun to get a tan.

I regret not plucking a fabulous old window from the trash when I had the chance.

I regret not being able to take my kids swimming more often.

BUT, most of my regrets involve these two.

100_3665 I regret that I thought of poisoning my dog this summer. It was a low point for me. FringePup had eaten a leather work glove and had thrown it up in bite size pieces throughout the kitchen. It happened to be right after I ran out of paper towels. Need I say more?

I also regret allowing FringeKid to think that FringePup had eaten her chocolate pie. It was nothing more than a lie and I can’t live with the guilt. I did it!

100_3974 I stole food from a child.

It all started one day when I was browsing through the aisles of our little neighborhood grocery store looking for hot dog rolls. Innocently enough we happened upon this basket of individually boxed fifty-cent pies. I don’t know why FringeKid didn’t eat hers, but it sat in the box for days taunting me. Like Eve with the apple, I buckled under the pressure and ate it; however, during the night FringePup must have discovered the little box in the trash. When FringeKid woke up all she found were pieces of shredded box and she naturally assumed the dog ate her pie.

Much to FringeMan’s dismay, I never corrected her.

I guess I’m lucky my summer is officially ending on Wednesday when the kids go back to school. I think I’ve had my fill of regrets.

Do you have any regrets from this summer?

I realized that you can’t leave an anonymous comment, so I’ve devised a plan. After all, you may be a grandma who doesn’t want your daughter to know that you fed her baby a total of 34 ice-pops this summer. I respect your need for privacy. If you’d like to be anonymous, simply enter a fake name and make up an email address. I promise not to hunt you down.

Let’s live this fall without regrets!

August 27, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

What’s it Worth?

I’m a sucker for a salesman. I could be talked into needing a rotating plastic hanger if someone knocked on my door selling one. It’s my sympathetic heart. I actually feel bad for salesman, so I’ll listen to them and feel like I need to buy something from them…just because.

I’ve been sold on vacuum cleaners, sets of knives, and even this aerosol spray that promises to remove marks, stains, and spots from just about any surface possible. A college student once cleaned everything from my tires to crayon on my son’s wall. I was convinced I needed a case of miracles in a spray can.

FringeMan doesn’t let me answer the door anymore.

Deep down I wish I were a good salesman myself. I don’t know why, but I’m always drawn to sales jobs. I get a rush when I talk someone into making a purchase. It’s not quite as good as eating chocolate, but it’s better than cleaning the toilet.

Do you know what I mean?

Probably not.

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I’ve failed miserably at sales jobs in the past. You think I would take a hint, but no. If nothing else, I’m determined and just a bit stubborn. So from time to time, I try my hand at selling things. In recent years it’s been selling vintage type items on Ebay, Craigslist, or at yardsales. Sometimes I just throw a coat of paint on some wooden table I pluck from the trash and then sell it for a slight profit. Since I’m still furnishing my own home with castoffs, it’s pretty obvious that I’m not making a bundle, but I do generate some cash every so often.

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I’m intrigued by how value goes up or down according to geographic location. For instance, I bought an old chenille bedspread in Maine last summer for $2. I sold it at a yard sale in Long Island for $10. I saw the same bedspread being sold here in Upstate NY for $5. Go figure!

Some of you do this “antiquing/junking” for a living and others stay clear of fleamarkets/yardsales/antique stores because you cannot stand the thought of sitting your bottom on a cushion that someone’s grandpa may have fluffed.

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Regardless, how much do you think this trunk is worth? It’s used as FringeMan’s nightstand.

Just curious…

100_4341 That’s the inside. I generally don’t open it because it smells fiercely of moth balls.

August 26, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

Decisions

As I sit in my golden chair feeling the cool breeze blow through my living room window, I realize that fall is quickly approaching. Unlike many other states, New York has not beckoned my children back to school yet, so it’s still “summer” for us. However, I feel the sunshine waning, see the leaves straining to hold their color, and know that I still need to purchase school supplies.

By the time I get around to school shopping, there should be all of three pencils and one slightly broken bottle of bargain brand glue left on the shelves. I intended to shop early this year, but good intentions are basically worthless, at least for me.

I still haven’t received my children’s classroom assignments yet, so I don’t know what their teachers require to ‘start school’. Life would be so easy if there were one master list of supplies for the entire second grade, third grade, fourth grade, fifth grade…you get my point. Why each teacher needs a different list of supplies is beyond me, but that’s probably because I’m not a teacher. Oh, for the days when kids just needed to bring an apple and a piece of chalk to school.

I’m getting sidetracked. The point of my post is that with the coming of fall I’ve made some decisions.

1. I’m not going to Twitter anymore. Earth-shattering, isn’t it? I haven’t tweeted in a month and I just don’t miss it. It’s not just a time-waster, because if I’m truthful, I love wasting time. I’ve nearly reached professional status as a time waster. I may start a consulting firm that specializes in raising awareness to combat employee time-wasting strategies. I just feel no draw to tweet, so I’m done. I tried it. I liked it. I got bored with it. In fact I did the same thing with exercising, but that’s another post.

2. I’m not the kind of mother who dreads hearing their children were in a little spat…a fight…knockdown…whatever you’d like to call it. Now don’t get worried, I don’t have a boxing ring in my basement and I don’t promote violence, but I do think that there is a time when a child needs to defend him or herself. There’s a certain invisible line of propriety that must not be crossed by another and if it is, I believe at times it is appropriate to throw a punch.

Case-in-point.

My daughter comes in saying the child (a nameless boy who has repeatedly been mean to FringeKid) down the street tried to pull down her shorts. Twice. I told her that the next time he tries something like that, she should throw him a punch right smack in the kisser. I mean, if someone tried to pull my shorts down (FringeMan excluded…mom, close your ears or eyes), I’d have to punch him in a place that hurts more than his kisser.

I don’t think we should ever look for a fight in life, but I do think there’s a time to fight.

**insert favorite movie quote**

” There is a certain kind of peace that is only known on the other side of war.” -Sean Connery, The Hunt for Red October

Like the time when I was about eleven and this boy (Robby) continuously annoyed me to the point where I experienced temporary insanity. He went beyond what is good and acceptable antagonizing behaviors for pre-adolescent boys and propelled me beyond the threshold of patience. I brought him to his knees with one good punch in the jaw and sent his glasses flying into the next zip code. Problem solved.

The point of a childhood spat is that when you need to defend yourself, you must walk away the winner.

Now don’t run scared on me. I’m not raising a couple of hooligans with violence issues that will need to spend the next 16 and half years in anger management classes. Keep things in perspective.

3. I will not become addicted to hot chocolate no matter how cold it gets this winter.

And those are the decisions that may revolutionize my fall.

Or not.

You making any decisions this fall?

Because I’m curious, have you ever told your child to throw a punch?

August 24, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

A Recycler at Heart

Here’s the plain ugly truth about me.

I pick through people’s garbage.

Sometimes.

I often complain that my daughter looks like a bag lady no matter how much effort I put into her appearance. She only stays neat and clean for precious few minutes. She could do a commercial where she plays a poor English peasant girl begging for a mite with a tin cup. Unfortunately I’ve realized that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

I’m no better than she. I’m just a grown-up bag lady which is much, much worse.

I wish my ultimate goal of rummaging through trash was that I’m a great environmentalist determined to live a life that reflects my ideals; however, I hide soda bottles in my own trash. Please don’t tell the rubbish removal engineers who pick up my cans. I also create a bigger pile of trash on garbage day than the twelve family tenement around the corner. So I stand without excuse.

I pick through garbage because I like the thrill of a find. I also like FREE stuff. That either makes me cheap or poor or maybe a little of both.

I already showed you Fringeboy’s toybox that came out of the trash, but now I will show you how I am decorating my living with nothing but other people’s castaway junk. The thing is that I’m loving the look. I guess it helps that I have no defined style. I like some mission furniture, traditional, a little modern, retro, and odd. I don’t think garbage picking would work for me if I actually had a defined style.

Enough words, I’ll give you picture. Before and after!

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Obviously this was before. Notice the drop the ceiling, the ugly paneling, and the nasty green carpet. That carpet was much worse than it looks. You should have smelled it! The paneling went to the ceiling, but they painted the top portion.

Next came stripping the walls.

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Yes, that’s me on the ladder. Not a flattering picture. I know!

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Next came the sterile looking room. Many have doubted my non color choice for this room. You’ve joked about it being the padded room, but I’m not completely crazy yet. Have some confidence people!

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Yes, the leather chair came out of the trash…last Thursday night to be exact. It’s well-loved, worn to a comfortable fit for FringeMan, and has a small hole in the bottom left corner, but I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted for the living room. I also have a brass swing arm floor lamp that will sit slightly to side of the chair. I just need to buy a new linen color drum shade for it. That came out of the trash two Thursday’s ago.

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This torch lamp was a real find…3 weeks ago. Yes, Thursday night. It’s a true antique. That’s a milk glass shade on top and it’s been retrofitted to fit modern bulbs. FringeMan says we can remove the adapter and buy old fashion large bulbs to put in it if I’d like. I recently saw a lamp just like in an antique store for $65. The cost of mine – $0.

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You need to understand that this room is still evolving. It’s far from done, but I’m not good at waiting to show pictures. The table between the two chairs, also garbage, is going to get a coat of black paint. I think that will spiff it up nicely. The white table in the middle is going to be converted into an ottoman…a winter project. The golden chairs are something I actually purchased. $30 for the pair. Some may think I’ve been ripped off, but I actually like these chairs and they are very sturdy. I will recover the seats with new fabric this winter also.

Did I mention the rug came from the garbage? Yes, an old lady was done with it and it came to live in my living room.

It’s ridiculous isn’t it? I just can’t stop myself from going out on garbage night. It all started when I was walking the dog and I found this fabulous old window I was going to decorate with. I made FringeMan go back with me to get it, but it wouldn’t fit in the car. I still regret not walking home with it.

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This little set-up isn’t staying in the living room. The table is going to be painted black and is making it’s way upstairs to my bedside. The wooden folding chairs will probably go on the porch or just remain folded for extra seating. The wire hanging from the wall is temporary of course. A work in progress.

My question for you is what kind of curtains would you hang in this living room? I’ve got three long windows with 10 foot ceilings. I think I’ll actually have to buy curtains since I limit myself to picking obvious garbage. I don’t actually rummage through cans or bags. You can all breath a sigh of relief. I do shop in stores from time to time.

Please visit Sanctuary Arts at Home and Between Naps on the Porch for more great Before and Afters!

For even more up-to-date photos of my living room, click HERE.

August 22, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

Too Much Color?

FringeKid is a magnet for clutter and color and her room reflects her personality.

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It’s cheery and bright and you just cannot help but smile when you enter; however, after being in there for a few minutes, you begin to suffer symptoms of sensory overload.

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Most night I cannot even find her in her bed. There’s so much junk in her bed that I have to pick through things to unearth my sleeping child. I don’t mean just stuffed animals. No, that would be almost normal. She also has books, blocks, dolls, and tea sets floating between the sheets.

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She also jumbles at least three extra blankets in, on, and under her. Heaven forbid I try to put one away. You’d think I was tearing her away from a dear friend. She pleads their case and tells me how special they are to her.

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FringeKid’s room is small, so we had to be creative with her stuff. FringeMan mounted her little bookcase to the wall in order to save some floorspace.

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I purchased these little hooks last year when I was in Georgia and they may be my favorite thing in her room. She has a pink one mounted on the back of her other door. I got smart this time and hung them low so she can reach them and actually hang stuff up herself.

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This was a before shot. We actually didn’t do much to her room except paint. FringeMan did rewire the room, but other than that, we just moved her junk in and hung pictures. Hers was an easy room.

I love easy.

I just asked FringeMan how often I make my bed. He said “Once a day.” I don’t make it everyday, but I guess I make it often enough for him to think I do. 😉

August 20, 2009 by: The Domestic Fringe

Inside Views

I know I promised you pictures today and I actually ran around the house with my camera, but most of the pictures came out terribly. I’m talking blurry. The kind of blurry that tricks your mind into thinking you’re seasick and I’m not serving Dramamine tonight, so I’ll spare you.

For those of you who don’t know me in ‘real’ life, I’ll never be able to give you a picture of a complete room because it takes me forever to complete a room. Sometimes I wish I had the wallet to was the kind of person that walked into a furniture showroom and just ordered a pre-assembled room, decorated by a designer who knew what she/he was doing.

Unfortunately I tend to collect mismatched pieces of junk that I end up painting and am convinced any designer on HGTV would love to have in their collection. My rooms may lack cohesive style when I’m done, but I usually have a story to tell about every piece of furniture, so I think it distracts guests from remembering the junk store designs.

Today I give you FringeBoy’s room.

This is the one room that I said I wasn’t going to paint and it’s probably the most complete room in the house. The prior blue on the walls would have really clashed with not only the vintage Star Wars drapes I bought on Ebay a few years ago, but also with the gold and green linoleum we unearthed on his floor.

So I painted the room gray. I also took pity on the kid and covered as much of that forty year-old linoleum as possible. I ended up creating two rug areas out of black foam interlocking blocks that I purchased at a tool store. They were selling them as garage mats, but I thought it would make a cheap industrial looking rug.

We managed to pluck that toy box from the trash last week and I intend to give it a coat of black paint. Notice the disarray of his bed. It always looks like that. He NEVER makes his bed and I can think of at least 4 million other things to do before I’d climb up there and make it for him.

To add a bit of a modern industrial feel to the room, FringeMan has rewired the entire room with that exposed metal tubing. I actually love the look. While I was painting, my son asked if we’d also paint the ceiling gray. I hesitated only for a moment and rolled right over the white line I was sweating to keep straight. It was a good call on the kid’s part, because it looks great. I feared a dungeon affect, but the ceilings are super high and he gets lots of natural light in the room, so it worked.

The modern art is an original FringeBoy creation.

You’re loving that floor, aren’t you?

Guess what…I’ve got an even better one.

Surely I deserve to win some sort of room makeover with a floor like that!

Please feel free to enter me in all home remodeling contests.

And so I leave you with a question, because I’m curious.

Do you make your bed everyday?