Friday, September 30, 2011

The Saga of Urns

I love urns.

Not the kind that hold dead people – this was a real conversation when I told someone I loved urns – my friend thought I had some kind of weird infatuation with the canister that holds our loved ones remains. I don’t. But I do love the kind of urns that sit on your front porch, or inside your house, and boast beautiful plants and flowers. Some people call them planters, but I prefer, urns.

Because when you own a house, you should own a few urns, I was on the hunt. I had actually been on this hunt for a while but was slightly disgusted by the price tag of such urns.


One day, on a hunt for something else, I stopped by Michaels. Low and behold, there on the side walk were two somewhat hideous greenish gold urns on a deep discount. Like, they were priced at $70 a piece, and then had a 60% off discount, and then an extra 40% off plus tax. That should make them about $18 a piece. What a steal!


Greenish gold urns were not what I was looking for – however, I happily walked away – or if you saw me at Michaels, you might say lugging -  my urns to my car knowing I had extra black spray paint in my garage. 

 


I called Zach to let him know I had another great project for us to work on so be ready when I get home! I jumped out of the car and went to town with black spray paint. I have a special place in my heart for spray paint – it’s just so easy.






This is where the saga of my urns begins.

First, my yard savvy husband warned me about painting the grass. I didn’t think I would. I did.
 

Not a big deal, right? Grass grows. (I actually thought about grabbing green spray paint to spray over the black – no one would ever know!)

Also, because I bought deeply discounted slightly ornate urns from a craft store, my urns were not equipped with the essentials for outdoor living. From reading this post on Young House Love, I knew that my urns needed good drainage. Yet, mine were without holes in the base. Another easy fix!

Zach offered to drill holes in the bottom of the urns and even snagged some gravel for me. We were set.

As Zach was drilling in the holes, I kept reminding him that if he drilled too close to the decorative edge, I feared the urn would break. After all, they were super cheap and likely not made for strenuous circumstances.

Zach said it wouldn’t happen. It did.

The drilling occurred a little too close to the decorative part and chipped the urn. I didn’t take a picture of this part seeing as how I was running around the house trying to find glue that would mend my broken urn. I figured Gorilla Glue would be perfect for the job.

While Zach started working on the second urn, I threw some gravel in the first urn, filled it with soil, placed the flowers, and packed in a little more soil. I was slightly impatient so I didn’t wait for the glue to dry before I started watering. The chipped off piece kept sliding around and wouldn’t stay where it was supposed to.

I may have, for the first time in my whole life, been a little impatient. Everyone can have one of those days, right?



Quietly in the background, I hear Zach laughing. The laughter got a little louder and then louder until I realized it was deliberately louder so I would hear. Through my huffing and puffing, I finally just had to ask what was going on.

Well everyone, apparently my urns WERE intended to be used exactly for the purpose I bought them as – at the very bottom of each urn, there was a hole plugged by a rubber stopper. All Zach had to do was pop that plug out and there was the most perfect drainage a girl could ask for.

There were holes in the pot all along. I thought I was being so DIY savvy.


In my defense, the second urn did not get the added holes and I prefer having a few little pee spouts around the base so I can see when I’ve watered enough.


Thank you. That’s all.

Much love,

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

From Squirrels to Twigs


When I was in 4th grade, my family moved to Greenville, South Carolina. We settled into a quiet neighborhood and started to meet everyone who lived around us. My family soon found out that we not only had human neighbors, we had squirrel neighbors that lived a little too close for comfort. As in, they were doing a great job of chewing our chimney away from our house and taking up residence in there.

My dad consulted experts on safely getting squirrels to move out, tried stinking up our house with moth balls, smoking them out with small fires, and then burning them out with big fires - all to no avail.

My dad and brother finally settled on a different plan. The squirrels had declared war on our house and it was only fitting that the men of the household fight back. After a few times of my brother and dad propping up their BB guns through the kitchen window, all was calm again. Squirrels happily took up residence in the backyard instead of in the chimney.

Apparently, my dad missed those days of BB gun adventure.

A few weeks back, I returned to Greenville to see my family. It's one of my favorite trips because I absolutely adore my parents, brother-in-law and sister, my niece, and all of our great friends. Greenville was my home for 15 years.

I walk in the house, holler to let everyone know I'm home, and hear my dad call for me to come to the back deck. My dad was on a mission.


This mission was different, he was no longer shooting at squirrels. Rather, he was crouched down with his BB gun propped on the railing, shooting at a twig that has sprouted from a massive oak tree. Can you see the twig below?


Maybe he forgot that trees have branches? Apparently, this twig was a slight annoyance to him as it was the only twig sprouting below the tree cover (you know, where all the big branches above droop down and cover).


Comically, I can't help but wonder what our neighbors think when they see my Dad shooting at a tree in the backyard. Luckilly, my mom's plants mostly cover him from sight unless you're inside the house. I wouldn't want everyone to know about our family quirks!


 I am happy to report that my Dad is a good shot.

Dad = 1, Tree = 0.

Much love,

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Fairwell Summer - Hello friends!

I mean seriously, where have I been? Zach and I had a great summer - and apparently, so great, I forgot my manners on letting everyone know what we were up to.

Thank you for all of your sweet comments acknowledging the fact that I have dropped the ball and that you'd like an update! I love you and the fact that you love me back!

For the past two weeks, off and on, Zach and I have been watching two sweet kids. I thought I'd go ahead and share a picture of what happens when we all ride in the car together - I'm driving and Zach is 100% of the time requested to ride in between their two car seats.


They love Zach.

Also, this picture is from the last time they spent the night - but I just wanted you to be aware of how great at building tents/forts we are. Growing up, this was one of my favorite things to do. I always felt like I was in another world where no one could find me... even if I was just in the living room. The kids (and Zach) loved rummaging through the house for the best tent making supplies.


(cough... the office has been updated since this picture... cough... potential blog post coming up)


After the kids left for school and Zach off to work, I may or may not have curled up underneath the tent and zipped up my sleeping bag - only to realize that I was the only one left to clean up the fort that now consumed my office and I had a video conference call in 20 minutes.



Zach has since decided we'll be waiting to have kids of our own. So I am now accepting all offers to watch your children. Email me :)

Much love,