Sweet Freedom vs Need for Structure

Last night's musings:

Tonight is my last non school day night.  The kids don't start till next Monday, but tonight is the last night I can stay up however late I stay awake without the knowledge that I need to be up at out before 7 AM so that I am ready to greet my little darlings at 7:35 and keep that educational ball rolling all day. Then four days a week I have my tutoring students and I do love the relationships I have with those kids- watching those lights turn on as they catch on to new concepts and the relief they feel when they understand that they have learned the same things their classmates have learned- concepts or skills that were difficult is  indescribable. But it adds up to some very long days.   I do love teaching, but the freedom of just letting the day take me wherever it's going to go is pretty darn nice and although the weekends are great, it's not the same. Weekends involve a lot of catching up with smidgens of down time intersperse here and there.


So, year 37 here I come.

The Power of Shame

That title sounds so "Scarlet Letter" but actually it was the self-enforced shame that has driven me to complete the painting project --at least as far as the kitchen is concerned, I'm sure there is other woodwork that I am going to find that will cast the shadow of shame before long.

So completed project:

 See that cute little pottery house?  Jeff's aunt Kathie brought it back from Italy and that is what kicked off the color scheme that led to any number of items in the kitchen including that window treatment.

Painted, blistered hands--

I'm done and done in.

Why do I do this?

Every summer during those waning days before returning to school I always seem to take on all sorts of projects- waaaay too many, waaaay to complicated, and waaaaaaay too time consuming. I've also decided that I am the poster girl/woman for Adult Attention Deficit Disorder.  I will start one thing, drift off to another and often another- and then do this crazy random rotation until I get everything finished.  The good side, I suppose, is that I do manage to get everything finished. Even now, starting a blog---why didn't I do this earlier in the summer? No clue.

So here are the kitchen cabinets that I have been alternatively glaring at and ignoring for the last several months. The light linen color definitely brighten the kitchen after we moved in to a kind of murky brown color, but they had become so dingy and discolored and generally blech I wanted something that kept the kitchen bright (one north facing window) but went along with my pseudo-Mediterranean themed kitchen. I spent several months vacillating between color ideas that would go with the fresco style walls (gold/umber/beige) and considered some shades of green very seriously.  But fate lent a hand when Jeff over-bought paint for the woodwork (like four times what we actually needed) and the color "Irish Creme" started to grow on me.  Side note- I am a sucker for paint names and have made huge mistakes because I've liked the name of the paint.

So- I am half way through...while Jeff volunteers at the Air Show, I labor in paint.  I now hate the color, but know that is just one of the stages of paint--as there are stages of grief, there are stages of painting.

Progress to date:

Bedlam:

Cabinets are not done- see that little hint of a darker color?  That was as far as I'd gotten.

My supervisor arises from her lair to check out my progress.

This job also entails removing fixtures (yuck) and polishing them which has turned out pretty well. Before on top, after on bottom.

Cabinets on bottom are drying, now the gymnastics of doing the top.

Maybe I do this to take the sting out of the end of summer.  Maybe I am foolishly trying to delude myself into thinking that going to school and starting a new school year will be restful.  How nuts am I?

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

I hadn't really planned on making this one of those show and tell blogs, but WTH I am making my own rules as I go along (finally!!).  Allergies and asthma keep me in for a good deal of the summer- this summer has been  either hot/humid (asthma) or cool/wet (allergies and/or asthma). My tutoring schedule was very sporadic this summer between vacations, camps, and wonderful family summer time activities but I tend to go a little crazy with time on my hands.  After two very traumatic summers getting Jeff back on his feet from that horrific fall in 2012 and open heart surgery 2013 I found myself with a lot of unfocused energy.

So here are the pillows that I made for my first born who lives in Chicago.  I will admit, I was not thrilled with the idea of her moving  there (crime, distance from family, urban isolation) but she has made the city her own and created a wonderful life for herself- career, home, friends......we could not be prouder of her.   I wanted to make something to go  in her new home that she would have for many years to never forget that she is always in my heart.  I combined the sentimental with the practical and came up with the idea of making pillows to go with her new couch.  This couch  was a story in itself--her original couch was defective and had to be returned, the new couch required many, many, many phone calls and emails to discuss style and color and after a twelve week wait  it wouldn't fit into the condo without being taken apart and rebuilt (a very traumatic day). I stumbled upon some graphics (slightly insulting) of Chicago neighborhoods and because she has lived in a few and works in another I ran with that idea.  It required transferring and sizing the images, projecting them on the overhead projector I have at school, tracing the image onto the fabric, cross stitching the design, and sewing up a pretty basic envelope pillow. But, I'm very project/goal oriented, so this was right up my alley.

She was very happy with the result and just sent pictures of how they look in their new home.

I see pillows in my future.....

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So I'm going to give this a try. I'm thinking I'll start this off with family pictures, stories, and recipes and then just see what happens. 

So here are Joesph Fleming and Carmela (later Lillian..that's another story) Alborano on their wedding day September 30, 1923 in Brooklyn, New York.  So the story goes that Grandma did not actually want to get married but Grandpa pursued her so ruthlessly -which means he came to her house and the family met him- that they wound up getting married. Great Grandma Fleming, who by all reports was not the most pleasant woman you'll ever meet, was not a fan of this marriage because Grandpa converted to Catholicism in order to get married. In fact, she had to be removed from the church by the police.  Grandma had completed high school at night school and had hoped to go to nursing school which was part of the reason she was not anxious to marry, but Grandpa promised that she could go after they married, but life (and four kids) changed the plan. Grandma was always a huge advocate for education and wept at my college graduation.