Just Call Me Peggy

And so continues the craft room saga. Today I decided to focus on the walls and make myself a pegboard for organization. Actually, I lie... it was a two day affair and it wasn't so much about organization as it was about wanting something pretty and the fact I had seen this on Pinterest. So I'll spare you the how-to details because I did exactly what I do with most things in life... I copied someone else.

When it came to the supplies, however, I got creative. I got the pegboard from the scrap bin at the hardware store. You know what's nice about the scrap bin of the hardware store? You ask "how much", they say "twelve dollars" and when you say "no way" they say "okay, how about $5?". Sold! It was the perfect size and, sure, it had a rather big scratch on it but it's pegboard... I just used the other side. Besides, I might end up painting it some day so it really didn't matter.

When it came to accessories I decided to keep it on the cheap and headed to the dollar store. I found a wire utensil basket and some plastic little baskets that will work wonderfully for the likes of markers, pencil crayons and paint brushes. I also found these plastic cups. A bargain at 3 for a dollar. And, yes, I did buy 2 sets solely to get more pink cups. Don't judge!


After some trial and error (mostly error) I found the best way to drill the holes needed for hanging the cups on the pegs was to first put masking tape on the cup. Not only did this prevent cracking but it had the added benefit of acting as a guide as to where to drill:


I then started with a small bit and progressively got bigger. Actually, that's a lie. I first tried using the big bit right off the go. This resulted in a squished cup and a lot of smoke (not a surprise, coming from me). What can I say, I'm a strong she-man. And, yes, I know what you're thinking.. I should clearly be a hand model:

In the end I used 3 bits: (Shave and a hair cut? Two bits!)


And then?!?!?!? I put them on the hooks! I love them!


The only 'problem'? The room is actually too organized. Between bookcases, shelves, ribbon storage and now the pegboard... I have nothing to put in the cups. Fear not, I'll come up with something.

I'm thinking candies and bon bons...

It Isn't Rocket Science... or is it?!?

In creating my craft room I decided to 'pull a Pinterest' (Patent pending on that trademarked phrase... yes, I know that doesn't make sense) and make myself an island. I dabble in stained glass and my back always ends up getting sore because I'm too lazy dedicated to sit down while cutting glass knowing I'll just have to walk over to the grinder on my now-turquoise workbench after each piece is cut. So I figured the height of an island would be perfect... not to mention all the extra workspace and storage!

And how does one create an island, you might ask? By folding a Strawberry Shortcake blanket, circa 1982, into various lengths and widths and moving it all over the damn room... of course.

After deciding on the size and position of the island I got assembled the necessary bookcases (courtesy of Martha, Martha, Martha!) and bought a melamine topper... which I had the friendly folk at the hardware store cut into 2 pieces not only so I would have the option of having 2 smaller workstations in the future (perhaps in an L configuration against 2 adjoining walls) but mainly so I could get it home in my car. Never mind the fact I had to drive home with my window open. In the winter. In the middle of the Canadian prairies. Brrrrr!

Some assembling, a lot of leveling (stupid basement floor!) and a few brackets later... and here she is:

Now all I have to do is fill it... and use it! Next up? A spot for sewing!

When a Workbench isn't a Workbench...

One of the nice things about being single is not having to share my home with anyone else (with the except of the space currently being occupied by my cousin, who's staying with me while she's in school). I used to think my home was empty, lonely and depressing. Now I consider it to be my refuge. My quiet place. My haven. If being a hermit paid well (or at all) I might never leave it at all. And while one person may not need an 1100 square foot home with 2 bedrooms (plus den/sunroom) and a finished (a term I use loosely) basement it's nice to have lots of room to be frivolous with. After all, what single girl doesn't need a sewing/stained glass room, am I right?!?

Right...

But none of this is my fault. I blame Pinterest for the fact I'm dedicating an entire room to crafting. With lilac walls, turquoise accents and a reading nook. And for turning this:


And these:

Into these:

And this:

Not gonna lie... I LOVE it!

Thanks, Pinterest! I'm sure I won't be singing your praises when it comes to putting all the crap back in the room.

Along For The Ride

There's something about car rides that intrigues me. Perhaps it's the notion of going somewhere or being able to get from point A to point B at the drop of a hat and a tank of gas. Or perhaps it's the way it feels to be in your own little world, singing along to the radio or beating the steering wheel like a drum, all the while watching the world fly by, knowing that you're the one who's actually doing the flying.

I like the way it feels to have the ground pass beneath you with nothing more than a floor mat and piece of steel between you and the open road. I like the way you can feel the rumble strips and speed bumps without ever having to touch them, making the whole situation feel like "The Princess and the Pea". I like the way it feels to get out of the car, at long last, and stretch your legs and reach for the sky, a feeling that seems to say "I've finally made it".

I like how road trips sound happy and light. With rarely a negative connotation. With imagery that includes buying snacks for the road, making playlists to listen to and saving things to talk about on the way. I love the sunlight that casts a shadow as it passes trough the trees that go by, flickering to the tune of the tires below. I love drifting in and out of consciousness while being lulled by the rhythm of the road. There's a trust that comes in being able to sleep while someone else is behind the wheel. Seeing the world behind a curtain of eyelids while life flashes by in streaks of red and yellow, eyes flickering back and forth on the cusp of dreaming. Not only is your life in their hands but there's a level of comfort and intimacy that's required to not feel obligated to keep the driver company, keep them entertained. To allow them to be alone with their thoughts with you in the 'room'. To be an arms length away at all times and not say a word.

I miss the hum of the road. The excitement of the journey and the moment of arrival. One of my favorite things in the world is being chauffeured around while I look at houses and passersby. I look forward to the next time I get to use my seat belt as a pillow, buy gummy bears at a gas station and stop beside the road for an impromptu photo of an over-sized novelty item.

Where the road takes me, I do not know... but I sure do look forward to the journey.