Dream in Peace

About a month ago, my ten-year-old told me that she wanted a room makeover for her birthday.
     "Let's!" I said.  "We'll have the big reveal on your birthday".
     Gwen's eyes sparkled.  "Yay! And Dad can transfer me to my bed in the middle of the night so I wake up in my new room." I pictured Richard struggling with the long and lanky Gwen in his arms (those legs are ridiculously long).
     "Ummmm.... yeah..."

The room redo was a good idea though.  The purplish hue (Benjamin Moore's Victorian Trim) was tired and sickly. The black closet doors, black furniture and miles of black trim (who in their right mind?...) also needed to go.

When I told G that there would be little in the way of gifts if I was to redo her room, she was unfazed:  "It's okay, Mumma."
Was she actually maturing?

And so I dug in.

I am no interior decorator, but I do like to dabble.  Anyone who has been inside my home knows that it is a riot of pattern, texture and colour.  I am not a fan of greige.  I knew that I could create a happy space that Gwen would love, and because I am thrifty (and a diehard recycler), I challenged myself to do it on a dime.  I wanted pretty much everything in the room to be recycled, repurposed or purchased second-hand.

Gwen had given me carte blanche: her only real specifications were that I was to remove a bed (there are three in the room) and she would be thrilled if there were a lot of pillows on her bed (easy peasy).  I happen to know that her favourite colour is blue and so I went with fresh and clean:  Arctic Ice.

I needed some inspiration for the room (a great area rug or a fabulous fabric).  I couldn't afford to buy a rug because I am a rug snob (wool and silk only, please) so I scratched that idea and considered the drapery.  An Ikea purchase, the current pair are a floral linen with muted pinks, purples, yellows, blues and oranges, and they're all kinds of meh:

tired purple walls and ugly black trim

I took them down and set off for the Goodwill, where I found the perfect pair of drapes for $11:

Score!  I had my inspiration for the room.

I thought about what I had in the house that I could use, and I remembered a wool rug that I made when Gwen was an infant.  I had cut up old wool sweaters into strips, wrapped them in coils and sewed them all together (because that's what you do when you have an infant).  The rug used to sit beneath a pedestal sink in our old bathroom, but I hadn't put it out in the new house and it had been languishing in a bin for six years.

It would look cozy beside Gwen's bed and because it's thick and squishy, it would feel marvelous on her feet when she crawled out of bed.

Richard had begun painting a Dutch landscape the summer before last, but it had been collecting dust in the basement.  The colours were fabulous and the painting would be a reminder of the special time that our family shared when we traveled to the Netherlands last summer.  I told him to finish it, and fast.

Nathaniel's old twin quilt- made by me but currently out of favour as he sleeps on a queen bed- would go on Gwen's spare bed.  It's primarily blue and white with pops of colour:

One bed down, one to go.  Gwen's current duvet on her double bed is grey with velvet trim and it still looks good.  It would have to do.
Bam!  Bedding taken care of.

As I read the paper one morning, I saw that Sherwin Williams was offering their paint at 40% off, and a new shop had opened just up the road from us.  Nice!

Because I SUCK as a painter, I did not want to paint the walls of Gwen's room.  I am good at unhinging doors, removing plastic light and outlet covers, and washing walls and trim, but I am a terrible painter.  TERRIBLE.  I am also a skinflint, and I did not want to pay out the wazoo for labour either.  What's a girl to do?  I consulted my friend Kijiji, and found a painter (who also refinishes furniture) for $20 bucks an hour.  He promised to be quick (and he seemed sane over the telephone), so I went with him.  He did an awesome job and I ended up having him paint my upper hallway and staircase walls, the main floor hall, and the dining room.  As I am typing this blog, he is painting my kitchen.

Wallpainting completed, I decided that I would restore the black closet doors to their former glory by painting them white (Cloud White by BM).  Let me tell you that it was a completely hellish job, and that I loathe painting doors.  Richard said that I did a bad job and I didn't disagree.  I believe he may have used the word "shit" when he saw them; however, they are now white (ish) and they're hanging up and it's not like they're the focus of the room.  They have new hardware and to me, they're as good as new.

I wanted to change up the furniture because it was black, certainly not heirloom quality, and definitely not attractive:

I found a brilliant bureau on Kijiji and that was my splurge at $250.  It would have been only $200, but I asked the seller to go with glass knobs instead of brass hardware and the damn glass set me back $50.  I think it was totally worth it though.  Here's a pic of the bureau, before the hardware was changed.  I love that the seller painted the three rows of drawers three different shades of grey:

You will have to wait until the end of this post to see its final look.

Gwen's tickle trunk - a cedar chest that I purchased on Kijiji many years ago - also needed an update.    It's incredibly ugly, but sturdy and well-constructed, so I dug around in the basement for a can of grey paint that I knew I still had (it had been purchased from Rona's mistints section for $10).  I hauled it down the road to the paint shop and had them mix it up for me, which wasn't a problem.  My plan was to paint the chest grey and decoupage it with paper cutouts from The Art of Audubon - The Complete Birds and Mammals (Goodwill $3):

The illustrations in this 674-page tome are outstanding.  I briefly felt guilty as I scissored into the gorgeous book, but as it's a library discard I got over it.  My inner o.c.d. child wanted me to create a legend inside the lid of the chest so that Gwen would know the names of all of the birds that I pasted onto it, but I accidentally ripped one of the names in half so I abandoned that idea.  I committed all of the names to memory so if she really wants to know, she can ask me. :-)

Closeup of the bird detail (illustrations are reprints of John James Audubon's originals in 1831-51): 

Wait until you see the chest in its entirety; I love it!

I needed a bedside table for Gwen because the old one did not go particularly well with the new dresser, and it was too large for the space.  On the day of Gwen's birthday (!), I drove like a maniac to the Goodwill to look for one.  I found a filthy little side table for $8:

I know.  It's horrendous.  I removed the hardware, washed the wood (spattered with a white, greasy substance), and painted it grey to match the chest of drawers.  $6 for new hardware from Tuckey's and I had fashioned a very pretty piece of furniture:  

Can you believe it?  Total for the makeover for this piece was $16 ($8 for the table and $8 for the handles)

Gwen's old bed, which was my old bed when I was in university), was fine for the new room.  It's cast iron, timeless and beautiful.  I had Richard cut some planks to fit beneath the mattress so that we could remove the boxspring.  I felt that it had been hiding too much of the bed's feminine details.  

I didn't want to buy bedsheets at the Goodwill (you have to draw the line somewhere!) and so my only new purchase was a set of orange and grey sheets on clearance from Winners ($27).  And an orchid because they were on sale at Freshco. ($10)

Bed and furniture done, all I needed was a mirror, artwork and some finishing touches.  I found a cheval mirror on Kijiji for $30, but didn't have time to drive across town to pick it up.  The lovely woman who sold it to me delivered it after hearing of my predicament.  It is perfect.  

I found a vintage blue aluminum tree from the Goodwill ($3), a white pillow with silver embroidery ($3), and a fun Perplexus puzzle ($2).  

Richard in the meantime, finished up his oil painting and picked up a fun print that he had sent to Costco ($15).  Gwen had purchased a black and white poster of King Kong for her Daddy from Comicon and Richard Photoshopped, scanned and enlarged it.  Our neighbour framed it for us:

The final touch was a leaded glass panel that I made many years ago:

And now it's time for the big reveal!  You will have to scroll down to see it.  

Drum roll, please...

Here's the view from the doorway, with the lights out so you can admire the glass:  

Lights on, tada!

And the messy version of the same space, now that the windmill painting is up:

Gwen made the G pillow, I found the white one at Goodwill ($3), and the fluffy one was purchased from a yard sale many years ago.  You can see the new sheets if you look closely.  Grey floor lamp ($6) also from Goodwill

Check out the sparkle on the glass knobs!

The clothes rack was purchased at a yard sale for $5.  There are two of them (I bought both; the other is in Nathaniel's room), and they're from Eaton's department store (I loved Eaton's.  It was a sad day when that store closed its doors).

All that is needed to complete the room is a bookshelf (her old one has been moved to the basement where it holds all my sewing supplies), and I have to finish the wall quilt that I am sewing (I seriously underestimated the amount of time it would take).

Final tally for the room redo:

pillow from Goodwill - $3
orchid - $10
curtains - $11
Costco poster $15
Kijiji cheval mirror (including delivery!) - $30
aluminum tree from Goodwill - $3
bureau from Kijiji (the splurge) - $250
table from Goodwill - $8
puzzle from Goodwill - $2
painting and paint supplies - $190
hardware from Tuckey's - $16
sheets on clearance at Winner's - $27

Grand total for the room:  $555

Make sure you watch this video for Gwen's priceless reaction:

“...the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.” 
― Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space

The Poet Tree

It's UP!

Yes, I am posing by an empty frame, attached to a tree.  Said frame was my $90 birthday gift to my 45 year old self.  

Side note:  how in the fuck can I be 45?  

It was constructed by Gord Harrison, woodshopman extraordinaire, purveyor of little lending libraries and swap boxes.

Let me provide you with some context.  In 2000, I was working as a Public  Librarian.  I wanted to share my love of poetry with library patrons - big and small - so I set up a rotating poetry exhibit at the circulation desk.  It sounds much grander than it actually was - the "exhibit" was a freestanding eight-and-a-half by eleven plexiglass display board.

The inaugural poem was November by Thomas Hood:

November 

No sun - no moon! 
No morn - no noon - 
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day. 
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, 
No comfortable feel in any member - 
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, 
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! - 
November! 

I changed up the poems bi-weekly; the weather, holidays and current events dictated my choices.  Many patrons commented on the poems; they LOVED the poetry display.  It wasn't highbrow - there was no T.S. Eliot, people.  I deliberately chose accessible poems that would amuse and delight, and put a spring in one's step.  The library folk couldn't get enough... the poetry was better than SEX or CHOCOLATE or SQUEEZING A REALLY BIG ZIT.  Okay, it wasn't actually better than any of those things, but you get the picture.

I gave birth to my son in 2003 and my full-time stint at the library came to a screeching halt.  The poetry died.  A collective sigh was heard in the vicinity of Byron.

At this time, I was residing in the Blackfriars neighbourhood and that's when I had the idea of mounting a poetry frame on the Maple tree in my front yard.

I would bring poetry to the people through the magical Poet Tree.  And the world would smile upon the Poet Tree and it would be a better place.  And rainbows and unicorns and lollipops would fall from heaven, and poetry would rain down into the people's brains...  

But.

I had a hungry beast attached to my nipple for the better part of the next two years, and then I became pregnant again, and then I forgot about poetry because I was completely fucking insane from my parasites / children.

Jump ahead eleven years to 2014.

The idea of the Poet Tree was still percolating.  It was time.  The city of London was poised for the power of poetry.  The denizens of the Willage needed poetry; I would bring it to them  :-)

The first poem to grace the Poet Tree was Headache by Shel Silverstein:

Remembrance Day was three days later, so naturally, I put up In Flanders Field.  My third (and last, unbeknownst to me at the time) was Spike Milligan's A Silly Poem.  

One week and 6 days after the frame had been installed, I was pulling into my driveway when I saw that the poetry box was empty.  I was perplexed.  Had someone stolen the poetry?  I can understand them stealing my scooter, but my poetry???

I found the poem jammed into my mailbox with a card and some chickenscratch scrawled across it.

I called Andy Beaton (Supervisor II - Forestry) and learned that a neighbour had complained.  I also learned that the City of London's Boulevard Tree Protection By-law (section 3.5) stipulates that "no person shall attach any object or thing to a tree upon a boulevard without written permission from the General Manager".  

The poet tree was being axed!

I called the paper and the Freeps came out the same day to do a story.  Here I am, making my best "mad face" at the urging of the newspaperman:

The poet tree and I made the front page!  And I'm currently the banner photo at LFP.com with 132 comments:  Poet Tree Stands Empty.  I guess this is my 15 minutes.

I don't know what else to say about the idiocy of some individuals.  The tree will not die from the two screws that affix the frame to the tree.  I have planted more than half a million trees in my time (treeplanter in Northern ON and BC for five years) and I know the tree can withstand the frame.  My neighbour sums it up nicely:

I think the sadder part of this story is the neighbour who reported the poet-tree. He must be a very angry and pathetic individual - a far greater threat to society and the earth itself than a couple of screw holes in a tree. Most of us have much better and more progressive things to do with our days: like loving poetry and sharing it with any old passer-by! What a way to cheer up a winter dog walk or a hurried school-run!

It seems that while I have a lot of support for the tree, there are also many individuals who do not approve.  A few of my favourite choice remarks:

Poetry should be banned in London - along with self-promoting librarians.
My rebuttal:  Yes, I am promoting literacy and culture. So shoot me.

Ohh the drama! A neighbour who doesn't like me called the city, now the big bad forestry supervisor wants me to take my poetry box down, ruining it for everyone! Why should I have to follow the rules! Whaaa! Put an easel on your lawn with the box attached to it!
This just makes me laugh.

The tree is not yours Christine. It belongs to the commons. You damaged it. It's untenable. Does not give me joy to see trees damaged, but angers me. Stand out there and recite the poetry if you're so enthusiastic about sharing your joy.
I am picturing myself standing on the sidewalk with a bullhorn.


So the Poet Tree frame must come down next week, midweek, or Andy Beaton will come and remove it himself.  Bah.

And last night someone opened the box and scrawled the word "DOUCHES" across A Silly Poem.  I wasn't impressed.

Our solution (thanks to Miss Guinevere for the illustrations):

We will continue to spread literary love here on Bruce Street.  The word on the street :-) is that the box is here to stay.  It might not be attached to the tree in the future, but it will still be the Poet Tree.

The Battle Of Life

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

                                                                                                        Theodore Roosevelt

Addendum

Part Two of the story:  Poet Tree, Part Two

ONOMATO-WHAT?I

I went to avenge my 7th grade loss to Cheryl Miller.  Cheryl was a doughy brunette who wore too much makeup and she had perfect feathered hair.  Not jealous.  I can't remember the word that did me in; however, I do remember Cheryl's smug smile when I was eliminated.  Evil Admission forthcoming:  Whap! I wanted to slap that smile off her face.

Cheryl, I apologize.  You deserved to win.

Last night, I attended the 1st Annual Literacy London Adult Spelling Bee. The event was a fundraiser for Literacy London's programs and services.  I'm a writer and a librarian; I am a staunch supporter of anything that improves literacy.  To be literate is to live.  I was thrilled to support the cause in such a FUN way.

Here's Oh Bee-have - my team of competitive wordsmiths

Can I just say right now that last night was pretty much my dream night?  Let me tell you the reasons why:


SHOPPING!

Who doesn't love to shop and drink wine at the same time?  And support a great cause?

I bought this giant vintage skate by London artist, Andrew Gillet, because it is awesome.   It also reminds me of my own vintage, six dollar ice skates that I purchased many years ago from (my favourite store) The Goodwill:

This is how I feel when I wear these skates:

image from vintagewinter.com

When I brought my skates into the hockey shop to get them sharpened for the first time (they looked like they had never been worn), all the jocks in the shop had to congregate and ooh and ahh and handle them.  I'm not kidding.  The sportsdudes were in awe of my pristine, leather Playmakers.  It almost seemed like a shame to sharpen them.  They are not nearly as pretty as they were when I bought them twenty years ago, but then again, neither am I. :-) 

I also purchased six London Lightning tickets in the Silent Auction.  The game is on the fifteenth, which just happens to be my birthday.  HB to me!  

Last year, I arranged for the Lightning to visit my children's school.  The two fellows that represented the team were magnificent ambassadors and the students LOVED them.  They talked the talk, walked the walk and they could SLAMDUNK like nobody!  My kids play basketball twice a week and so I am super happy to be able to take them to see a game.  

Last shopping anecdote, I promise.  I even squeezed in a shop at The Goodwill before going to the spelling bee.  The bee was held on the 3rd floor of the Goodwill Centre building at 255 Horton Street.  Hours before, the kids, my husband and I had been shopping for indoor soccer shoes.  As I am far too cheap / parsimonious / stingy thrifty to spend upwards of fifty dollars on a pair of athletic shoes that the children will outgrow in a week, I stomped out of the sports store after purchasing nothing. 

But Mummmmmm, I like the pink ones! I want the pink ones!  

Me:  The pink ones are $69!

I want the pink ones!  

Me:  You're not getting the pink ones.

You're mean! You never buy me anything. blah blah blah blah blah 

Me (thinking, not saying, people):  I'll show you mean, you little bee-yotch...

Hours later, as the family dropped me off at the event, RB said:  "make sure you look for indoor soccer shoes for the kids."  Still stinging from the shopping expedition, I said:  "The Goodwill will not have a pair of men's size seven-and-a-half indoor soccer shoes there!"  But because I am a dutiful wife, I checked out the shoes and wouldn't you know, the ONLY PAIR of indoor soccer shoes on the rack...  I don't even have to say it, people.  You KNOW!  I was sooooo happy.  They look brand new and cost only $10!  SWEET!!!!!  And they're by AllDayIDreamAboutSex (Adidas for those of you who are too young to remember that acronym, or were out of it in the mid-seventies).  

So I still have to get a pair for G, but N is done.

Okay, focus Christine, back to the Spelling Bee!

EATING AND DRINKING!

The dinner, by Local Food Skills (a London program that gives people the opportunity to "gain real skills and work with real food in a state of the art commercial kitchen") was designed to look like a kid's lunchbox, but the food inside was definitely for a mature palate:

I am a total foodie and this dinner was FABULOUS.

The spicy fried chicken was the best I've ever had, and the pumpkin soup was also the best that I've ever had (mainly because of the addition of the crunchy roasted pumpkin seeds which were the most delicious contrast to the rich, creamy soup).  The purple slaw was also the best slaw that I have ever had and I am a coleslaw snob.  Don't even get me started on coleslaw.  I could write an entire blog entry about it.  The potato salad was NOT the best that I have ever had; however, it was delicious.  I liked the green bits (celery and dill? and it was not loaded in fatty sour cream and/or dreaded Miracle Whip dressing).  Our dessert was a chocolate pudding. I do not eat pudding but I made an exception because there was whipped cream and chocolate shaved on top.  It was divine.  

Kudos also to the food people for using a recyclable lunchbox and containers (all paper) and bamboo cutlery.  The bamboo gave me a bit of a nails on chalkboard reaction initially, but I got over it.  

It was SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

SPELLING and WORD GAMES; WINNING PRIZES!

I'm not going to lie.  The spelling was HARD!  Really hard!  There were 12 -15 five person teams with funny names:  Antidisestablishmentarianism, Oh Beehave, The Queen Bees, The Bee Gees, The Bookworms et cetera.  We all competed at the same time.  The moderator, Kevin - a fellow librarian - would say the word, provide a definition and then use it in a sentence.   Here's Kevin, posing with Austin:

We all had a minute to write down how we thought the word should be spelled and then as a team, we had to decide on the correct spelling based on everyone's answers.  The captain wrote down the final spelling and a runner took it up to the panel of judges:  Murray Faulkner (ex-chief of police), Gary Ennett with CBC Radio, and Becky Howse from Adult, Alternative and Continuing Education at TVDSB. 

The first word of the evening was a trick, as it has three correct spellings: maneuver.  I am not going to give you all three; google it up if you're curious.

Here is the list of all the other words we had to spell (I'm pretty sure that I spelled them properly here):  dieffenbachia, peccadillo, isosceles, connoisseur, sarsaparilla, deliquesce, kohlrabi, ceilidh, schottische, carrageenan, alstroemeria, onomatopoeia and quinzhee.  Because I am obnoxious, let me tell you that peccadillo, isosceles, kohlrabi, carrageenan and onomatopoeia were dead-easy pour moi.  I know, you hate me.  

Our team came in second place!!!!!!!!  We were very happy getting 8 of the 15 words; the winners got 9 correct.  We lost to the Bookworms, whose captain, an old colleague of mine - Beth - is a retired librarian.  Earlier in the evening, she told the room that she was the world spelling bee champion in Grade 3!  Come on!!!!!

We played another game in which we had to come up with the longest list of homonyms (fair / fare, here /hear).  Our team came in first and we each won twenty downtown bucks!

The last game we played was Boggle.  We thought we won again with 21 words in a minute, but we are convinced that the judges gave it to another team, who also got 21, because we won the first game.  we weren't competitive at all...

The final event of the evening was the Canadianisms elimination draw.  Thirty words, 10 bucks each, last one standing won a weekend in NOTL.

I purchased Sasquatch and was one of five people remaining, when I was eliminated.  I roared like a Sasquatch when they pulled my "name" out of the bag.  

GOOFY ATTIRE!

In short, the evening was SUPERLATIVE; I was spellbound.  I will be studying the dictionary so that we can win next year's event.  Look out, Beth.



Soundtrack:  L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole!

Here are some links to organizations that I mentioned above:


Literacy London

Local Food Skills