The Happyish Homestead

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Pantry Doors

I stenciled the pantry doors while Bryce was gone a while back....

Let's just say I'm glad that I didn't decide to do an entire wall....stenciling, while inexpensive, takes (said like the kid says it on Sandlot).

This weekend we're planning to go chop down our own tree (Welcome to Oregon) and get some of the house decorated for Christmas.

Meanwhile, I'll be bagging meellions of leaves.

Hate bagging leaves.


P.S. Spencer is learning how to crawl!

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Reality of Playdates

Last week was a little bit rough.

To lessen the stress, I set up a couple of playdates.

It was all fun and games, until the people left.

Now I have a pile in my house of things that don't belong to me.

A car.

Some wipes.

Another car.

A pair of clothes?

And a plate.

Now the fun begins.

I have to keep my kids from playing with it.

If they do play with it, I have to hope they don't break it.

If it survives, then I have to locate it after it's played with.

After all of that, I have to remember who it belongs to.

I have to convince myself not to use it, like the wipes. Even though Spencer's had a ton of diarrhea and it's just sitting at my house, forgotten.

I have to talk myself out of justifying why I should be able to use it, I did, after all, feed them lunch and kept my cool as their two year old ate a sucker all over my house...

Then I need to put it in my car.

After which I have to remember to drop it off to the person who left it at my house.

Or hope that it doesn't get lost in the deep recesses of my car.

Or I have to keep it in my house until 'those' people come over.

And still remember to give it to them.

Which I can guarantee you won't happen.

And if, by chance, I do remember to give it back, they'll play it off like: 'Oh, we bought him a new one weeks ago, you can just keep it."

Listen, people, if you come over to my house, please don't leave anything behind, it will be better for you, for me, and for our friendship...


Wednesday, November 16, 2011


Adeline and I have been getting along pretty well the past couple of weeks.

Except when we play Barbies.

She's a huge pain in the bum.

This is why:

Adeline is a control freak, and kinda mean.

But I fall for it every.time.

We'll be upstairs playing Barbies and Adeline will ask me to come to her fancy ball. Of course, I say yes.

I get all four of my girl Barbies ready. For some reason I'm not allowed to have a boy...anyway....

They look nice. They have on coordinating outfits, their hair is done beautifully, no wall flowers here.

As I'm getting their shoes on, Adeline announces that the ball is about to start and I need to hurry up or I'll miss it.

I frantically finish putting their shoes on and I'm begging Adeline to wait for us and we rush over to the ball.

We have to walk because Meg always gets the car and she's not a fan of carpooling. Something to do with the fact that Belle and Beast need some alone time.

I knock on the door.

The ball is over.

I missed it.

Fine, whatever, I think.

I'm moving on.

Now it's bedtime and I'm getting all of my Barbies in their pajamas and brushing their hair.

They're not even laying down before the cock {Adeline} is crowing for them to get up.

OK, I think, stay calm, she's not doing it on purpose.

We decide the Barbies should go hiking.

{Physical fitness is always a priority in the plastic world, just because they're skinny, doesn't mean they're healthy.}

I decide this time, they're not going to change, I'll just put their shoes on and be done with it.

I'm trying to outsmart Adeline.

I knock on the door.

They're not going hiking.

Didn't I know it was bedtime?

I would rather clean the bathroom than play Barbies with Adeline.


Monday, November 14, 2011

Ladder Up!

Lame, I know.

I bought this huge ladder from an estate sale. Old, wood, paint chippy. $5. Really, it's the ladder that just keeps giving. I still have two substantial pieces left (6ft. +) to figure out what to do with, even after we cut it down to size to fit the room.

Before, lamp compliments of Target. Thomas O'Brien. $17.25. Love it. I HAD to buy it people, our old one died. Promise.

Old postcards from Bryce's side of the family.

It says 'Give Thanks'.

Since building the wall in the mud room area, I moved all of our coats and shoes that used to hang out in the front part of the house to the back part, which calls for a little re-arranging.

Bryce's ingenious idea to use the ladder as a coat rack using S hooks, which we picked up from IKEA.

Some Laurel branches. Bet you don't recognize the chairs...that's because my mother-in-law did a thorough scrubbing of them while she was here, as well as one the stove that had been hammered by months of canning.

This is what Spencer's hair looks like after a bath.

Meg is Spencer's favorite sister by far....kind of worried about my sanity with that one....

Bryce is going to be out of town again {boo} this week for three days so I hope to get some sewing projects done.

Somehow I deleted the picture of Adeline in curlers, I'll make it up to her next post.


Wednesday, November 9, 2011


{I'm hoping that was obvious...}

This cupboard is in the mudroom and I plan on putting all of the food I canned in it so I don't have to trek all the way downstairs to the basement when I what some pear sauce.

I had painted a stencil on it, hated it, and painted over it.

THAT is why I love paint.


Monday, November 7, 2011

I Have A Situation

I'm dumber today then I was last week.

Because I read a book.

Worst book I've eve.r read.

Not even kidding.

It was lent to me by a friend, because we 'have similar tastes in books'.

That is a lie.

Bryce asked me how I liked the book.

I told him it wasn't a book.

It's not even literature.

Books are supposed to broaden your views, increase your horizons.

This is not a real book.

I want those hours back.

After I finished the notrealbook, I looked at the back and read the author description.

She enjoys ventriloquism.

I should have seen that one coming.

Bryce has banned me from reading Daphne Du Maurier who is a real author and writes real books because it's making me a snob about books.

Not true.

It just better equips me for weeding out the not real books.

The problem?

This 'friend' just lent me another book by the same author, in THE SAME SERIES.

Yup, I have a situation.


*the author, title, and friend's name have been omitted to protect the innocent.

Friday, November 4, 2011

The Wall That I Built

My friend and I built this wall.

It's like, a real wall.

We used an old pallet, my idea.

We covered all sides with bead board.

Put a piece of MDF on top.

Finished it off with trim.

This was the big surprise for Bryce.

He said 'It's about time.'

But not even that could curb my enthusiasm for how it turned out.

Now that there is a wall to prevent little children plummeting to their deaths down the concrete basement stairs, I hope to use it as more of a mud room.

See that disgusting vinyl?

Despite my best efforts, it's not going anywhere anytime soon.

At least I don't have to worry about it getting trashed???

Have a great weekend.


Wednesday, November 2, 2011

A True Story about Real Chickens

I love our chickens.

They're super fun to have around and I like watching them waddling around the yard scratching and eating bugs.

But, they're also kind of s-t-u-p-i-d.

Our chicken coop is about seven feet tall, which, if you do the math, is two feet higher than me.

And our chickens are free range. Which means that they are free to roam around during the day, but then come back to the coop to roost in the evening.

Until one night they decided that they didn't want to do that.

They wanted to roost on TOP of the chicken coop.

Stupid birds.

Now I'm out there, and it's pitch black, did I mention? scraping them off with a 2 by 4 and it's like their feet are cemented in place.

Then I go in and retrieve the ladder, climb precariously up and have to manually remove them from their post.

They got locked in for the night....and for three consecutive days.

The girls wanted to know why they couldn't come out and play.

I told them the chickens were in time-out.

Why, the girls asked.

Well, why do you have to take time-outs?

For not listening.

There you go.

I'm an equal opportunity parent.

Rules are rules around here, and you're expected to obey, no matter the breed.