Ponytail Holders
I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes. I have the ugliest bathrooms in blog land. Maybe not the ugliest, but I’m one of the dumb ones willing to post pictures of them without a mind blowing after to compensate for my “bravery.”
The previous owner loved honey oak and floral wallpaper. It’s everywhere and we don’t have the money to do a full bathroom remodel, which is what this bathroom requires, and that’s that. See here.
We aren’t medicine cabinet people, as you already know, so we really only use this to store things we kind of use but not really so let’s not throw it away because the minute we do that’s when we’ll need it. The only thing in the cabinet I do use are my bobby pins because the truth is, I only wear bangs because it allows me to go longer between root touch-ups. I hate the feeling of hair touching my face, and the first thing I do when I walk in the door is pin my bangs back. I keep them in a plastic baggy to keep them corralled and also because that cabinet scares me.
I’ve cleaned it and scrubbed it down, obviously, but after almost 40 years of opening and closing, it showed wear. Mostly it yellowed and faded, but in some spots the paint started to chip. We don’t have fancy things like ventilation in our bathrooms, so I was worried about rust. My great idea was to paint the door interior with magnetic paint and then spray paint the entire cabinet a clean white with that rust prevention metal paint stuff (industry term). I was going for this, but without the strip. I was a little worried that it would be even messier than the strip, but I didn’t give it too much thought until the Mister came home and pointed out the obvious.
We don’t use the medicine cabinet for much, so while it’s a great space saving idea, we don’t need to save space. Simple cups attached to the door would work just as well, look neater, take less work. He even offered to paint the cabinet for me. Don’t be too impressed. It’s because he finds my painting skills inferior.
He did it over the weekend and I thought it looked great. A vast improvement! He told me he didn’t like it and that it was not good enough to go on the blog. Huh? Why not?
I guess I needed the obvious pointed out to me. The many imperfections, small areas where it could be better, paint that wasn’t smooth, and of course the fact it was all still very ugly. He didn’t say so, but I think he was concerned it would be a disappointing update.
Whatever, dude. It’s a 35+ year old honey oak mirror sandwiched into floral wallpaper above a 1970s cabinet with two-tone faucets. Of course it’s still ugly! The only way to make it attractive is to tear it all down and start again, which we can’t do. That’s life.
The way I see it, we can open a yellowed out cabinet a few months away from rusting or we can open a bright white, clean but imperfect cabinet with a few organization things (industry term) to keep things organized.
Here’s how I store my bobby pins and ponytail holders. I used sponge caddys from Bed Bath and Beyond, the kind you would normally use in your kitchen sink. It’s not what I had in mind, but they work. I ran into a big problem–they wouldn’t suction! It was easily remedied with my favorite Quake Hold, so not all was lost. [Edit: the Quake Hold didn't hold, which is no surprise given our no ventilation situation in the bathroom. I'll need to up my game and use adhesive putty, which is what I would have used it I had some on hand.] I cut a piece of cardstock to fit the bottom of the caddy to keep the bobby pins from falling out. If you’re wondering why I don’t just store them on the shelf, it’s because I’ve tried that before and they fell all over the place. Also, a naughty elf took the containers for bobby pins and pony tail holders off the shelf of the cabinet and then never puts them back so they just sat on the miniscule counter for weeks cluttering up the entire space and falling into the sink until, “Just so you know, Jules, I really love to brush my teeth surrounded by bobby pins! It’s awesome!”
This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.
Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment. A few guidelines:
- Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
- Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home. I have a delete button, and I’m not afraid to use it.
- No links to giveaways, please.
- Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.
Please. Like I Got Anything Done Yesterday.
No. 1
I think I sold the Mister on the wallpaper idea! He has several conditions: (i) no medicine cabinet (ii) he doesn’t do any of the work except maybe the drywall repair (iii) nothing too girly and (iv) there has to be bead board at least half way up so it isn’t all wallpaper. (I tried to convince him to paper the whole bathroom.)
I showed him a sample of wallpaper I ordered–it was free and therefore miniscule–but he really liked it (!!!) and said it would look nice. Then he suggested we get an antique mirror and “hang it from a ribbon or rope or whatever it is you do with old mirrors. I’ve seen people do it. You know what I’m talking about.”
No. 2
Yesterday I had this grand plan to work on the medicine cabinet in our master bathroom. I had this plan that involved magnetic paint and hooks and stuff and things. It was going to be great. Then, Pope! From Argentina! That was it for me. I spent several hours crying all over Twitter and Facebook, and normally when I say anything overly Catholic or overly angry or overly happy I get dropped like a hot rock. More than usual. The key to social media, I’ve discovered, is to not be too overly. Keep it vanilla, and you’ll be fine. Love life, but not too much. Complain, but not too often. It’s okay to be Catholic, but don’t be Catholic.
Well, yesterday I was Catholic and happy and straight up rocky road with extra nuts, so I thought for sure I was going to experience a mass social media exodus, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I was so excited and overwhelmed that the pleasure of watching me make a fool of myself far outweighed any annoyance the anti-overlies would have normally experienced over my Mary worshiping exuberance. I lost a few people, but most weren’t about to miss the opportunity to read these gems:
WHITE SMOKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m stuck in traffic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Pope if from Argentina!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Crying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Never in all my life did I expect to see in my life a Latin American Pope from Argentina in my life time. In my life time. Life time!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay, now I need to go and see if I can get something accomplished today.
@everyone I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Really, can you blame them for hanging around? Eventually I settled down and went back to work on the bathroom. Except it turns out the magnetic paints needs hours between each of the three coats (oops) and a full 24 hours to cure before applying regular paint to cover (double oops).
Soooooo. Plan B?
I took pictures of the quilt Larissa and I worked on over the weekend. As you read this, I am probably over at her house working on Mikey’s quilt. All we have left to do for Nico’s quilt is to add those yarn-stringy things to keep the batting in place. There’s Nico’s astronaut picture. I forget who it is, but I can look it up.
Pretty simple–especially when you are the assistant! One wide panel of ticking and two lengths of coordinating fabric wide enough to fit a twin. No binding, but Larissa did top stitch.
Here’s Mikey’s picture–soldiers on a Navy ship on the day Japan surrendered during World War II. My military history boy.
I think the pictures side-by-side look nice. They compliment each other, but don’t mach. They look a little high to me. Mikey helped me hang them, and he did an excellent job making sure they were level and straight and even, but I could have done a better job telling him how high I wanted them. I think they could drop a couple of inches. Let’s just add stuff to the to-do list. Why the heck not?
Yellow Bathroom
I decided this week would be a good one to work on the bathroom off the laundry room, the one with all original fixtures and a charming corner sink.
Not my bathroom.
There she is!
My bathroom has a yellow sink and a yellow toilet with a honey oak lid that matches the honey oak ship anchor ring/stock/eye that doubles as a towel hook. Both matched the medicine cabinet that was meant to look like honey oak but was, in fact, some sort of woodish contact paper. I know this because Nicholas peeled it like a sticker last year.
I was going to make a grand production of cleaning it out (look! I did something this week!) but the Mister beat me to it and then removed the cabinet. I have spent quite a while searching for something that fits that space. The Mister refuses to buy anything that isn’t the exact size of that opening, and because of it’s size we are looking at cabinets you would find in a dorm room. It shouldn’t peel, so I should consider it an improvement. I’m holding out hope that something will come up that works and doesn’t look too cheap.
We were going to keep the yellow sink and toilet because they work perfectly fine, but oof. They look so banana in those pictures! I’ve always thought a commanding wallpaper and bead board (see above) would do much to make the sink and toilet look charming, but the Mister isn’t on board. I can’t mention the word wallpaper around him without him twitching. He’s still traumatized.
Is it terribly wasteful of me to want a new sink and toilet? I’m torn. I don’t want to replace original, American made fixtures with something from a big box store but…bananas. I’ll price everything out and see how I feel afterwards. Maybe after I see the cost of updating everything for a bathroom so small you can’t completely open the door (not exaggerating) I will look at those bananas and call them golden.
I’ve included this picture because it had an interesting corner cabinet. The marble top is lovely. Sadly, I don’t think it would fit in my little water closet. I’ll have to source it and get measurements, but I’m pretty sure the bathroom door would scrap against it every time it opened and closed.
That was my fairly unproductive week. How about yours? Hey! I almost forgot. The other day I realized that I should be pinning your projects to my William Morris board on Pinterest. If you have a problem with that, just let me know.
This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.
Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment. A few guidelines:
- Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
- Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home. I have a delete button, and I’m not afraid to use it.
- No links to giveaways, please.
- Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.
Little Things Are Just As Good
If you are doing the William Morris Project and going room by room in your house like I am, know that not every week will result in jaw dropping progress. Some weeks are slow. Some months are slow. February seems to be a slow month for me, the kind of month where I’m doing lots of little things that don’t seem to be adding up to anything I can cross off my list, and that’s okay. I’ve had to reshuffle my priorities this month. Family, taxes, school book reports–those all came first right now.
Some of the little things that deserve a mention include the pillows I bought for the living room. I hate buying pillows, mainly because I rarely find any I truly like. I liked these pillows enough to buy them way back in October, and they still don’t aggravate me. We went to IKEA and picked up curtains for the family room. We also picked up frames for the pictures I bought for the boys’ room. Speaking of the boys’ room, I bought a rug and it looks nice. We’re starting to get plants in the nurseries again, so I bought a few for around the house. I pulled out a plant stand from storage to hold a plant that normally goes on the coffee table, which has been commandeered by a puzzle. That corner of the living room looks a bit like a jungle, but it’s not forever. The plants don’t seem to mind.
Next month will be better. I have plans to finish the little bathroom off the laundry room and I should be very close to finishing the boys’ room, too. Then again, maybe baseball will take up a lot of time and I’ll clean out a messy drawer and call it good. That’s fine, too. Little things are just as good as big things. In the end, the size of the step doesn’t matter as much as the direction.
This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.
Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment. A few guidelines:
- Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
- Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home. I have a delete button, and I’m not afraid to use it.
- No links to giveaways, please.
- Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.
- Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
- Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home. I have a delete button, and I’m not afraid to use it.
- No links to giveaways, please.
- Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.
Medieval Medicine Cabinets
I decided to keep it simple this week for several good reasons, the best one being that I forgot to do anything until Wednesday afternoon. Of all the weeks to forget about the weekly project I have been doing for almost 18 months, I picked a good one. The project I was planning to work on didn’t take more than three minutes. Six years and three minutes.
While everyone was sick this past month, I made a mental note to finally empty out the medicine cabinet in the boys’ bathroom, the one with old medicine, bug repellents, and broken bathroom accessories on one side. We never use it and haven’t for years. I store our medicine in the kitchen and have for years. Everything here didn’t make the cut. Out of sight, out of mind. I kept forgetting to toss out the contents until one of the boys would get sick. The Mister has a habit of storing whatever the boys are taking when they are sick in here so he doesn’t have to walk to the kitchen, even though that’s the purpose of the box: you can take it with you. I think I finally broke him of the habit this time.
The other side has always been empty barring the defeated scrunchie and two razors.
What’s that? You were wondering what that bottle with the foil is all about? I’m surprised you ask because it is all perfectly logical. Like I mentioned, the Mister likes to keep the medicine the boys are using in that cabinet. I might have mentioned (8,000 times) that Mikey was running a fever last week. This is where our bottle of Motrin ended up. When it was my turn to give him medicine, I opened the cabinet and found it there without a cap. This was very, very late at night/early morning. I woke the Mister up (!!) to ask him where the bottle cap was because the idea of putting it back without a cap was too much for my Type-A, first born child personality. And he, the middle child, mumbled, “I don’t know; couldn’t find it.”
I’m sorry, one more time?
I knew three things within three seconds of hearing this lunacy.
-
1. I was finding that cap.
2. If I didn’t find that cap, I was somehow stopping the bottle to block the cyclone of invisible germs hovering above its neck.
3. I was never using the contents of that Motrin ever again because surely it was tainted by countless germs, most of them not yet identified by the CDC.
This is where my logic gets fuzzy. (Only here. Up above? Totally sane and logical.) Even though I would never, ever use the Motrin and the Mister was going to get a new bottle of Motrin first thing in the morning, long before Mikey would be able to take another dose, I didn’t throw away the bottle. I remember thinking I should keep it just in case something happened between then and when the Mister went to the pharmacy. Something that prevented him from getting a new bottle. (???) Something like a zombie apocalypse, a massive earthquake trapping us inside the house, or–the most likely event–the FDA announcing a nationwide recall on all over the counter fever medication lasting forever into the distance with no horizon.
I promise that at 4:00 am this sounded perfectly reasonable. In fact, I was proud of myself for being so planned and prudent. Like a girl scout! Nobody was going to catch me without a bottle of Motrin, no siree. (!!)
So that’s why I went to the kitchen and ripped off a piece of foil. I couldn’t find the cap, you see, and I needed to halt the contagion.
I can explain everything in that cabinet. I can explain why there was still infant medication in there. (Closed doors, never use that cabinet, forgot there was medicine in there.)
I can explain why the Motrin didn’t have a cap. (It was late at night, the Mister was tired, it fell somewhere and he couldn’t find it in the dark. Later, I couldn’t even find it with every light on.)
I can explain why the Motrin had a makeshift foil cap. (To stop germs germs and because bottles need caps.)
I can explain everything except one thing. I can not explain why I gave the Motrin bottle a foil wimple.
Why? Why does my foil have wings? Why didn’t I wrap the foil all around the bottle? I vaguely remember thinking that wrapping the entire bottle would make it difficult to open in the event I had to access my emergency stash of Motrin (?!) but in the event that was true and I couldn’t waste those precious 2.56 nanoseconds, why didn’t I just wrap the foil all around the cap? Or make it a foil stopper?
It is a mystery.
I tossed out the bottle and its infected contents and then tossed out everything in the cabinet. There really was nothing in there to keep except my bottles of essential oils and one empty apothecary bottle. I didn’t even bother taking an after picture because it would be a picture of an old, empty medicine cabinet.
Exactly, Buster.
This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.
Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment. A few guidelines:
Image: Portrait of a Young Woman (or Lady Wearing a Gauze Headdress) by Rogier van der Weyden.
