Old Made New

You may have noticed that I don't know how to turn this picture, but I have faith you your ability to see what it is anyway.

     I discovered how to avoid buying a new under-seat suitcase for someone I live with who loves princesses and doesn't care for the personal-item sized case she already has, royal color that she chose in the first place! (Purple is an ancient dye color reserved for royalty.) 

Spending enough to buy a princess-covered gift bag and a jar of Mod Podge, (which, I was happy to discover, costs LESS than a new suitcase) I rounded up a pair of scissors and a ratty little paintbrush and managed to transform Carolyn's 4-year-old suitcase into an adventure all by itself.

     Now Carolyn chooses this suitcase over the slightly larger hard-sided one she has with spinner wheels that she used to choose every time we went somewhere.

     The final chapter of this story is that after 40 years of not using the stuff, I didn't know how much soap was required to clean the Mod Podge off that ratty little paintbrush.

This was enough.

Do you like to fix things that you already have?

Or would you rather buy new things?

HAPPY NEW GIFT!

I got a terrific Christmas gift when Bob put new counters in our cottage. I didn't get pix of the old ones, made of boards that were separating, but you can see one of the old counter joints that had pulled apart beneath the new counter top.

This was the case in more than one place, so liquid leaked through to at least one drawer below.

My ever-lovin' fix-it husband watched many Youtube videos, (he calls it "Youtube University") got the necessary supplies, and made the countertops for us with his own two gloved hands!

I got a new sink, too, inspired by my son's new one! This is where it will go:

Can you see the beautiful hammered copper finish that Bob made with his trowel-y tools and paintbrush? Can you also see the wonderful silky smooth surface? (Our old one was rather lumpy.)

Bob even added sparkles for me! 

(Yes, this is the same countertop, only with different lighting so it looks like another color, but they're really the same.)

I wouldn't have thought of getting a sink with a large side and a little side, but it's terrific for washing big things like pans.

This project reminded me to be thankful for running water, and a place to wash dishes besides the tiny bathroom sink or bending over the bathtub.

How about you? Do you like to fix things yourself? Or do you like someone else to do it?

An unexpected shower

I don't know about those automatic bathroom fixtures. You know, the ones where you just wave your hands, or your backside, depending on which commodity you're using, and it automatically does what it's supposed to? Flushing, dispensing water, soap, towels, or hot air are things I'd really rather do myself. I mean, I've stood in a bathroom stall before, waiting for things to disappear before I unlocked the door. And waiting. And waiting. Until, finally, FLOOSH! There it goes, and I can leave at last.
One time, I went into a restroom that had an automatic flusher, an automatic faucet, and an automatic soap dispenser, so naturally when I needed a towel, I just waved my hands over the magic sensor... but where was it? I felt like a mime as I ran my hands around the front, sides, and bottom of the towel dispenser without actually touching it.
Then I saw the lever.
Oh, I was supposed to push the lever MANUALLY to dispense a towel. I'm sure there was a hidden camera in there somewhere.
This Christmas, we went to Temple Square. There was a line in the ladies' bathroom, so when I got done with the automatic flush toilet that was reluctant to flush, I wondered if any of the waiting ladies were desperate. I quickly pushed a button on the toilet that I thought might flush it, but it turned out to be the sensor. So, putting modesty aside, I pushed out of the door, shrugged, and said, "It's supposed to flush automatically, but it's not doing its job."
Then I hurried to the sink and stuck my hands beneath the faucet. No water came out. In a hurry to get away before the lady who'd gone into my un-flushed stall came out, I moved my hands up and down, touching the faucet on each upsweep. Well, that's when the water came gushing out, spraying out from the pressure of my hands like a hose all over the mirror and the lady standing at the sink next to me.
"Oops!" I cried. "I'm so sorry!"
The last thing I heard as I fled was laughter, followed by the blessed words, "That's okay."

You Stink, Idiot!

by Shirley Bahlmann
When my nine-year-old Michael asked me to write a note for him, I was a little distracted. "Mom, please write 'You Stink Idiot'," he said.
I started scribbling as quickly as I could, "YOU STINK..." Then I stopped and looked at Michael. "What was the last part?" I asked.
He stared at the paper for a moment. "Mom, why did you write that?" he asked.
"You told me to."
"No, I said, 'Please write use sink'."
"Use sink?"
"Yeah, the one upstairs that Dad fixed. I want people to know they can use the sink."
"Then what was the last part?" I asked.
Patiently, he repeated, "Use sink. It's fixed."
"OH!" I cried, laughing. "I thought you said something else."
He regarded me with his solemn green eyes, then said slowly, "I'll get you another piece of paper."