Naturally Dyed Tea Towels

For Christmas I made a small batch of tea towels to give to friends and family. And since I'd had in my mind for a while to experiment with dying, I decided to experiment on friends and family.

After the jump you'll find the basic steps for creating a tea towel and what I did to create a gradient on the towels from blueberries and blackberries.

Dark, Glossy Doors

I was tempted to just write another post in this vein, and leave it at that. Starting around my third full day of work on this, I started thinking, "This project just wasn't worth doing" (which Allen would have told me that at the beginning, if he'd thought it would make any difference).

Now that I have a few weeks of retrospect, that attitude is starting to change, but I think that's partly because I've blocked out memories of all those hours spent hunched over yet another door, sanding and patching and sanding again. Painting the doors in the hall opened a pain-in-the-ass Pandora's box - we had to paint the backs, too, which of course appear in the bathroom and both bedrooms - so the closet doors in those rooms would also have to be painted, front and back. How can such a small house have nine interior doors?

Quick Drawstring Bags

I've posted on a few kinds of drawstring bags already (here and here), could there be more? Of course. These are about as quick and dirty as it gets. It's also a good way to use up extra fabric (that you buy and buy without a project in mind and then you end up moving it across the country and promising yourself to find ways to use it and store other things, like air, under your bed). Instructions after the jump!

Otomi-Inspired Appliqué Pillow

I think a lot of us have a contrarian streak - a tendency to resist things that are popular, and especially things that cross the line from popular into ubiquitous.

One night in December, Allen and I were driving to a barbecue place for dinner, and we passed a lot of houses decorated with white Christmas lights, and a few with colored Christmas lights, but only a couple with icicle lights - the ones that were so rampant for the last ten years or so. Not the molded plastic ones that are actually shaped like icicles, but the light strings that have smaller little strings hanging off of them.

I said to Allen, "Do you think, now that those icicle lights aren't so popular anymore, they're okay for us to start using?"

Allen was shocked. "You like those?" he said, indignant.

"Yeah, I really like them! But everybody uses them, so we've never used them."

"No," said Allen. "We don't use them because they don't look like real icicles."

"What?"

"Yeah, nobody uses them right. People hang them where real icicles would never be - like on the back sides of beams. That doesn't make any sense."

"Allen, of course it doesn't make any sense. They're not real icicles. Even if you 'use them right,' nobody is going to look at them and say, 'Wow - somebody waited for a snowy day, hosed down their porch roof, got those those beautiful icicles to form, and then somehow lit them from the back.'"

"You're twisting my words."

So I understand perfectly a natural aversion to trends. Otomi embroidery has been all over the internet for a few years, but I still love it so. I have loved it since my grandparents had some in their "Mexico room" when I was a little girl.

The animals, y'all! They are such great animals. Actually, if I have any disappointment about the way my pillow turned out (other than the time it took, which was more than I expected), it's that the animals aren't as crazy-whimsical as the weird, fantastical creatures that populate real Otomi embroidery.

Draft Dodger

Guys, I sewed something! I am happy to contribute my first project post in many months. I'm also happy to be settling in here in San Francisco and to have my sewing machine not in a box.

This project was born of necessity - my new room's windows are drafty and it gets pretty chilly here in SF. As soon as I could, I made two of these. This is a simple project; if you've got a drafty door or window there's no excuse not to whip one up yourself. The part that takes the most time is picking up the rice from the store. Instructions after the jump.

Also, New Years is upon us! Don't forget your lucky greens and black-eyed peas.

Painted Monogram Sign

Jessica and I both get girlier and girlier each week, and I find there's nothing to which I can't picture adding a flourish or a monogram. This time, it was our garage. Allen built this garage with his own two hands (and those of several good friends), and I came along and stuck M's and clovers to it. (For what it's worth, Allen likes the M; the other elements, he says, are just another thing making our house "Girly as ****.")

Here are the supplies you'll need to gussy up a garage, front porch, or foyer:

• thin birch plywood (mine is about 24" x 40", because that's what we had laying around)
• wood stain
• polyurethane
• an image you like
• a big sheet of carbon paper, optional
• painter's tape or masking tape
• a charcoal pencil or chalk
• oil paint - the kind you get in a pint-size can at the hardware store
• a paintbrush

Stain the plywood your desired color - I think I used Minwax Special Walnut. Staining and sealing instructions are in the second half of this post. Wait to polyurethane the board after you've painted your design.

Skirted Tablecloth

Our guest room just got a budget makeover. Since our roommate moved out a couple of years ago, the room has served as my sewing and craft room, a place to store a million books (unartfully arranged in a closed Ikea cabinet), and the threshold for that most abhorred of things, the pre-fab aluminum sunroom that we call the Abomination. (It is referred to as such so often and exclusively that we can tell friends, "There are extra chairs on the Abomination," and no one blinks.) The room continues to serve all those roles - but recently with more panache. We moved out the industrial shelving and Ikea cabinet and replaced it with this bookcase from the Ballard's outlet in Atlanta, where the manager knocked off another 20% (just ask). That made this sturdy, hardwood, easy-to-assemble bookcase about the same price as a particle-board number from Ikea. I arranged our prettiest books on it by color, added a few knick-knacks with no other home, and the room was already greatly improved.



But there were other issues - none as pressing as the rusty steel industrial shelving once used (somewhere) to display Doc Martens, and then our books, and which now resides more appropriately in the garage - but issues nonetheless. We've been substituting a bedside table with a charming old pedestal table that I spray-painted glossy white - but it didn't look or feel like a bedside table.

Enter an old TV shelf of Allen's that never suited the house (but, y'know, the Doc Marten shelves totally did). This post on Erin Ever After inspired me to make a skirted, tailored tablecloth for it. Probably everybody with an attic (or an Abomination) has a sturdy, functional table or cabinet that they're just not crazy about. The TV stand was, on its own, enough to make me ponder a yard sale several times a month - I do hate having things around that we just don't use. But I'm glad I didn't pawn it off, because this tablecloth was a fairly straight-forward Saturday project that made a big difference in the room.

pin-up shades

"Pin-up" shades are the best way I can think to describe these, although they're really hook-and-eye shades.

We live in a little house, and most of the interior real estate is occupied by furniture, projects, or a dog who is everywhere at all times, so drapes just don't work for us. I've made these simple shades for years, since they neither add nor subtract anything from a room; they fit right inside the window frame - neutral, minimal, low-key.

But lately my tastes have veered towards those of a well-appointed pensioner, and ... now I'm on toile.

cafe cushions (and rearranging furniture)

Allen and I live in a small house. It's plenty of house for us and a dog and some ambitious projects (how much space is devoted to cutting mats and sewing machines?), and it used to accommodate a roommate, too. But the square-footage - just under 1,000 sf - while not apartment-small, is still fairly modest.

When we first looked at the house, it felt downright claustrophobic. The ceilings are only eight feet tall, and the owners painted the walls dark brown below the chair rail, and off-white above it - it was like a short woman wearing a tea-length dress. They had the living room packed with overstuffed leather furniture, and I often recall our old kitchen backsplash with a shudder. I'm pretty smug about how much bigger the house feels now than it did then; I felt like we've done as much as one could with the space.

But each of the rooms in our house is proportionally small, and each one sometimes feels a little overstuffed - I'd gladly forfeit our guest room for a little more space everywhere else. I wish we had a "small" house like this one - which is bigger than ours, but seems to have about the same number of rooms - just bigger-scaled. Here, for example, is the living room:



Our dining room is the worst of the perpetrators. We have a bar and a couple of pieces of storage furniture in there, and it all worked, but just barely. Backing your chair up from dinner, you'd bump into the bar or nearly break the glass china cabinet. And there was no way to refill people's plates without making everyone scoot all the way in.

diy: tufted ottoman, in more detail

Because - sorry - there really was no detail before. I promised a reader that I'd do a cost breakdown of the ottoman I made, as well as a how-to post, so here it is.

collecting - cast iron pans

I bought my first cast-iron skillet as a fledgling baker in high school, looking for a proper vessel for making pineapple upside-down cake. It was actually a completely uneducated buy; I was at the late, lamented Lakewood Antiques Show, saw a wonderful, smooth 9" cast-iron skillet for $18, and talked them down to $12 (it was a Sunday, the last day of the show, after all). I didn't know anything about seasoning the pan, and I bought it in part because, frankly, I didn't know that new cast-iron pans were still manufactured. It's turned out to be well worth its $12 price, and sits permanently on top of our stove, stacked with a number of other cast-iron pans that could double as anti-burglary implements, if it ever came to that.

building a tufted ottoman

Update: there's a cost breakdown and a basic illustrated step-by-step process for a similar ottoman here.



You guys, Allen and I totally built this ottoman.

If we can do this, anyone can do it. I think I'm going to forgo a detailed tutorial on how to do this particular one, because the bumper around the edge (copied from this one that I love) made for a really convoluted process. But anyone could easily (really!) build one like this.

I'd recommend buying these two books, building a simple frame out of inexpensive two-by-fours (you can have Home Depot cut these for you), buying high-density foam, cotton batting, and edge roll from DIY Upholstery, legs from Adams wood products (we used oak, 8" tall), and having covered buttons made by your local upholsterer.

Remember to use edgeroll vertically at the corners, or you'll end up with sausages at the edges, which is how ours looked before. Give it a try. You get to carve foam into fun shapes!

pressed & framed botanicals

I've been seeing some beautiful botanical prints lately that I'd love to somehow reproduce (in spirit, if not in detail). I've only marginal drawing skills, but Mother Nature herself offers an ideal way to bring the silhouettes of ferns and other plants into our homes without having to render their likenesses in pencil - pressing plants. It couldn't be more straightforward, and there are infinite ways to mount and frame your finished product - but I've got a few tips to help people along.

MacAusland's woolen blankets

Do you ever get so excited about something you've bought that you want to tell people about it? This is one of those times. I apologize in advance for gushing, but I've been made giddy by a blanket. It's a gift for someone I love (who luckily doesn't read this blog), and I can't wait to give it to them.

MacAusland's Woolen Mills, on Prince Edward Island, Canada, makes beautiful, fluffy, lofty wool blankets in dozens of beautiful colors and several patterns (though the checkerboard is clearly the best). For those who value provenance, here's something: When you call MacAusland's Woolen Mill, you get a MacAusland on the phone. Here's a neat description of the mill.

MacAusland's weaves its blankets from pure virgin wool, and offers custom sizes and color combinations. Those lucky few who have sheep of their own can send wool for MacAusland's to spin into yarn.



The blankets are really well priced, from about $45 for a very large throw to about $85 for a queen-sized blanket. (Of course, though, keep in mind that shipping from Prince Edward Island to the southern United States doesn't run cheap.)

The blanket might arrive smelling a little of loom oil, and mine still had a few pieces of grass and natural detritus clinging to it. A cold run through the gentle cycle (using Woolite) helped remedy that. Never dry a wool blanket, or you'll end up with felt - just roll it around a couple of beach towels to squeeze out the excess water, and drape it over a bed or a shower curtain to dry.

A warning to those trying to coordinate colors in a cool-hued, white-toned house: MacAusland's "natural white" is completely unbleached, and more like ecru than white.

Would it be unreasonable to reupholster my settee with one of these blankets? Maybe I'll post a new upholstery DIY.

diy: screen-printing, and re-covering an upholstered chest

This chest has gone through several iterations since my childhood, when it was covered in a folksy, floral tapestry fabric. I prefer it now, but that may just be because it's not covered in creepy Madame Alexander dolls given to me by a well-intentioned (and well-loved) aunt.

This is a how-to on screen-printing and some very elementary upholstery - a crafting buy-one-get-one-free.

Knit Fix

Welcome everyone from Design*Sponge! We're thrilled silly you're stopping by!

Here's a short one for the weekend - and hopefully helpful, too!

I bought a great elbow pad sweater from Zara the other day, but for some reason, I bought one with numerous pulls in it. There are two solutions for this. First, look hard (or just look at them, I feel like a dummy) at the pieces you buy before you buy them. Second, if you're not a crocheter invest in a small crochet hook. The one I used is size US 11. Poke it from the inside of the sweater to the outside, catch the loop and pull it back to the inside. Done! Whatever you do, don't cut it.

Where did it go?

diy: staining concrete

I spent last week digging up one of the gems the last owners left for us, a walkway covered in pebbles and haphazard concrete pavers, trimmed with lovely little scalloped concrete borders - an adorable little trailer park aesthetic. I wish now that I'd taken a picture, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Once I'd dug up the pebbles, which have now gone to reside in my shoes, we were left with a broken, cracked concrete walk. The cracks no more of an impediment to walking than the pebbles were, and the cracks not as bothersome to me as to OCD Allen, I decided I could live with the walkway if it weren't so bleached and dry-looking. That's where acid stain comes in.

household: dealing with bird mites

Bird mites? Bird mites!!

Housefinches win you over with their pretty songs and their teamworky, mom-and-pop approach to building a home and raising the babies. But then one day you come in from the garden, and you feel an itch, or just a little tickle on your arm. Investigation reveals one, two, three, barely visible little bugs.

A cursory Google search proves indubitably that bird mites are gross. And although I don't claim to be an expert on these abominable arachnids, a minor infestation is an ordeal that I've lived through. (Allen lived through it, too, but most of his trauma stemmed from my behavior, not the bugs.) Here's how we dealt with the problem.

household: keeping chickens

Have you found that everyone around you is beginning to keep chickens? When I was little, my grandpa kept chickens, and growing up, my best friend's family had a coop, near the alley that ran behind all the bungalows on the street. But it's been years - since high school - since I'd seen the beasties up close.

One morning, Allen ran inside and told me to come to the back yard. Chickens had appeared next door overnight!

collecting: copper cookware

In keeping with my part-old-school-bistro, part-northern-Italian-home kitchen fixation, I've become obsessed with copper cookware. I'm the first to tell you that I'm no accomplished cook, and part of me feels like I have no business cooking with such great stuff.

Images at top:
Left: Copper pots hung on the Place St André des Arts, Paris VIe, France, by Julie Kertezs. Right: Julia Child's kitchen, via the Smithsonian.