Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Did It Myself No. 7: Branch Mobile

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Along with catching up on blogging in general, I need to catch up on blogging about all the DIY projects I did before my daughter was born. True, I've been able to get a few homey things done since she came into my life that blessed September day, but for the most part it's been 16 months of laundry, dishes and more laundry (and of course playing!). The laundry sitch has been particularly hairy of late because our washing machine is on its way out (and BTW, this is our second laundry machine to futz out on us this year).

"Three little chickadees, sitting on a
[cancer-infused] tree…"
The first one was nearing that magical ten year mark that somehow in appliance years equals 90 human years, so that was that. Then, we got a replacement free of charge thanks to some lovely family members. Unfortunately, that one didn't belong to said members originally and thus we don't know how old it actually was. And now it's dying too. Sob.

Basically this was just a long winded way of me saying I do a lot of laundry – the clothes/diapers/towels come out of the wash absolutely soaked and therefore must be wrung out before heading into the dryer, yet still take about 17 hours to dry (aka about three trips in the gateway to Narnia). Oh, did I say that the dryer is also now pining for the fjords? So, a lot of laundry doing means not a lot of craft doing because apparently running a household is more important than spray painting stuff. Whaaa?!

And speaking of spray painting stuff… This branch mobile hangs in my aforementioned daughter's room. It's made out of a piece of poplar I scarfed from the land (I really don't think "scarfed" can be used in this instance – it actually makes no sense at all, but I'm rolling with it), some fishing line and three little stuffed birdies I whipped up (using a pattern similar to this one here – I can't find the link for the one I actually used).

The painting of the branch was a bit of a challenge because, as it turns out, spray paint is a horrible, horrible substance and says right on the can: "This product contains a chemical known to the state of California to cause cancer and birth defects, or other reproductive harm." Umm, yeah. And since at the time of spraying I was smack-dab in the middle of reproducing… I made my husband do it. But I really wasn't too worried about him because we don't live in California.

The socks my dryer sends to Narnia are sopping wet. Sorry
Mr Tumnus. I hope you don't get a cold.
The other challenging part of this project, which also involved my hubs (eww, gross, I just wrote "hubs"), was the hanging of the mobile. The fishing line we used to suspend it had to be tied in just the right places so the thing didn't wildly spin out of control. And then the birds also had to be oh-so-carefully placed (causing my husband to declare them "delicate geniuses"). Several times they leapt from the branch  –  I'm assuming in an attempt to fly –  but instead plummeted tragically to the floor.

An observation my husband made after we hung it: "Do you think the baby will be scared? It makes shadows that kind of look like a creepy hand." So far we haven't had to worry about that as she ignored it for most of her first year and only started to notice it in the last few months. Her response? Just like with the curtains from my last post, "oooooooh."

Truthfully, as I said right from the beginning, her room was never really designed for her. It was designed for me. And thank god for that – I've spent a lot of time in there. Almost as much time as in the laundry room.

Psst… You. Yeah, that's right. You. People who visit this blog, but don't comment. Won't you help a sister out? I'm trying to "start a conversation" or something lame like that. So let's conversate. Down below. In the comments. Okay?

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