I blogged for Nyman Ink about an interesting development in the world of Pinterest today.

And then I promptly deleted all my boards.

Read the blog and the associated links for the whole story, but the basic gist is this:
Pinterest (like many social media sites) just isn't COOL. The terms of service aren't cool.

I love social media and I want to use these great new services, but I just can't get behind this kind of legal manipulation. Until something changes, I won't be using Pinterest. I've created a poster (a very simple, kind of ugly poster) to that effect.

Feel free to pin it and share it. It's free.

Technically I own it, because I made it, but I give you all permission to use it, pin it, post it on your blogs, etc. Go nuts.

See? See how out in the open and easy and clear that was? That's how Pinterest should be.

Lame Terms of Service aren't chic. Spread the word.

Back in September 2011, I saw a photo in House & Home magazine that I really loved.

There were a lot of things I liked about the photo, and a lot of small DIYs I hoped to replicate, but the but that really stuck with me was the bedside lamp. (I've pointed to it in the photo.)

The inside of the shade was painted gold (a look I love -- I've painted a lot of my shades gold in similar fashion). But what you can't really see is that there was also a message written inside the shade. In black marker, I think.

LOVE! What a fun idea!

I've finally done it myself, using my desk lamp, which has a large black linen drum shade on it. I'd already painted the interior of the shade gold (a couple of years ago, actually), so all that was left to do was add the message.

I used a big fat Grand & Toy permanent black market (roundedge) and I loosely scrawled messages throughout the inside of the shade. I didn't over think it. Instead of agonizing about the words, I just free associated little bits and pieces of poetry I have memorized from my long years as an English student. There's a lot of Sylvia Path, a bit of Elizzabeth Bishop, some E. E. Cummings... it's not formal and it's not really visible from the outside. When the light is on, the writing can be seen only faintly from the outside, and it has a simple stripey quality. When I'm sitting at my desk, I can see up and inside the shade, and read the little notes.

It's not an amazing project, and it doesn't really make a big impact, but I'm really happy with it. I'd like to write secret little notes on the inside of ALL my lamp shades.

What do you think? Would you try it?

Since I was talking about kid-friendly stuff earlier in the week, I thought I'd continue on with that theme and share a project I did with my four-year-old niece last weekend.

We made rainbow crayons.

I had promised her an "art day" as her Christmas present (just me and her) and the crayon idea was one I had in my pocket for when we got tired of painting (which we did). It's a really easy one, and there are instructions all over the week. Google "rainbow crayons" and you'll see what I mean. Here's how we made ours:

Step 1: Pick out all the bits of broken crayons for your crayon jar (I know you have one!). This is a simple task that even a toddler can handle. It's about digging and selecting and little ones are good at that.

Step 2: Line a muffin tin with paper cups (or don't, but this will be easier if you do).

Step 3: Peel the bits of broken crayon and place the pieces willy nilly in the muffin tin cups. (If you like, you can organize the bits of crayon by colour. I didn't, because we were "experimenting" but you really can't go wrong, no matter what you do.

Step 4: Once the paper cups are about 1/2 full of broken crayon, put the tray into the oven at a low temp. (We set ours to 170 degrees F. because that's the lowest it would go.)

Step 5: Go off and do something else. Check on your melting crayons every 10 minutes or so.

Step 6: When you notice that the crayons have all melted, remove the muffin tin and leave it out to cool. (Or melting process took about 35 mins). If you put a lot of different colours in each cup, the tops of your melted crayons may look oily and yucky (probably greyish brown). Don't worry! Just be patient and let them cool.

In other words, even if your crayons look like this don't worry:
They need a little more time in the oven, and the murky look is not a problem.

Step 7: When the tray has cooled, remove the new, round crayons and peel off the paper cups. Even if the tops looked kind of icky, the bottoms will be vibrant and wonderful looking.

Step 8: Colour! You now have a set of round, rainbow crayons that will look a little like colourful peanut butter cups. Find some fresh paper and make some art!

At my house, the accessories are breakable. Highly breakable. I collect vintage milk glass, slag glass, and depression glass. I have living orchids curving delicately over my nightstand. My pet fish lives on a low coffee table, in a vintage glass bowl.

It's not a kid-friendly space.

My sister, however, has two small children who are (for lack of a better word) a bit willful (read: wild). And as such, her house has almost no accessories. Her few breakables are hidden away or gathered messily on high shelves, and her surfaces are either bare or strewn with papers. Her house is about practicality, and about foiling her children's innate need to break anything and everything of value she might get her hands on.

So I resolved to help her out. Why CAN'T she have a few glam accessories? Things that look pretty and posh? Sure, teaching the kids to be less destructive would be a good step to take, but I didn't want to set my sights too high. So instead, I set about looking for some posh-looking accessories that could stand up to the chaos.

Here's my first effort: a totally kid-friendly, totally-unbreakable, totally budget table orchid.

Let me tell you what this orchid display is made of:

It's 100% Dollarama.

Materials

1. A large plastic salad bowl (any solid colour you like).
2. A foam craft ball.
3. A bread knife and tape (you probably have these items already).
4. 2 or 3 fake orchid stems.
5. 2 packages of decorative moss.

The whole deal should cost approximately $7.

Instructions

Step 1: Using the knife, cut the foam ball in half or 3/4. (You're just looking to give it a flat side.)
Step 2: Place the flat side of the foam ball down on the bottom/middle of the plastic bowl. Using tape, secure it to the bottom of the bowl. Don't worry if the tape looks ugly. You won't see it once the moss is in.
Step 3: Drive the orchid stems into the foam ball. If the stems are too long, but them down with scissors or wire-cutters. (OR, just bend the wire stems back and forth a bit at the spot where you want to cut - they'll break eventually.)
Step 4: Fill the bowl with moss, covering the foam and the bottom of the stems.
Step 5: Bend the orchid leaves down so they are horizontal across the surface of the moss. And bit and bend the stems of the fake flowers in a way that looks good to you.

Done. You have a pretty, glam-looking accessory that your kids can knock to the ground with abandon. Sure, the moss will go flying, but that's an easy clean up. This is an unbreakable, creation, in my opinion.

Next, I wanted to draw your attention to the pressed glass bowl that you see on the arm of the chair in the first photo. Pretty right? Let's take a closer look:

On the left is a little depression glass dish, on the right is the bowl I was talking about. Glam! Sparkly! Posh, pretty and ... plastic.

That's right, plastic. I bought it for 99 cents at Goodwill.

If that's not a kid-friendly accessory, I don't know what is. Can't wait to take these items over to my sister's house to test them out.

Maybe I'm just a jerk. I don' t know. Maybe no one else feels this way and this rant will lose me followers and friends, but I don't care. I have to let it out. I have to make this confession so that it will stop burning a hole in my heart:

I hate helping you decorate.

Not ALL of you. Just some of you. I love decorating, and I enjoy working on my own place and on the homes of friends who are easy to deal with, but most of the time "helping" other people with their houses is a big fat pain in the bum.

Ya, I said it.

I don't know how real designers and decorators do it. I really don't. Because "clients" kind of suck. Not all of the time, but some of the time. Most of the time when you're me.

_
Here's how my decorating woes usually play out.

1. Someone sees my apartment (in real life, on the blog, on Facebook, wherever). And they love it. (Yay!) Said someone gets in touch immediately to ask for "help" with their home. Help means "I'm not going to pay you, but don't worry, this will be fun and easy!"

2. I'm nice, so I say "Okay, I will help you." I do this out of the goodness of my heart, because as stated, I am nice. And also because I have trouble saying no.

3. I ask a few simple questions such as "What rooms were you hoping to work on? What were you hoping to change? Can you tell me a bit more about what you like and don't like? Do you have a budget in mind?" Sometimes, I even send people to my Pinterest boards, telling them to pull the pictures they like and point out the ones they don't like. This will help, I say.

4. Nothing happens for weeks because no one ever seems to want to answer these simple questions. A month later, said someone gets in touch again. "Want to go to IKEA with me and my eight screaming children!? I need your heeeeeellllp!"

5. Again, I agree. Because I said I would help and this appears to be the help you want. Off to IKEA (or Home Sense, or Home Depot, or Structube, or whereEVER we go). Said someone brings his/her partner, pets and children. Chaos ensues. It's like herding cats.

6. As a group, we manage to buy one major item (a sofa, a rug, a chair, a dining set). Said someone doesn't want to pay for shipping, so we move these items ourselves. And when I say ourselves, I mean "myself" along with a grumpy husband who hasn't worked out in awhile. We haul the new item home.

7. Back at someone's house, chaos resumes. It's now 8 p.m. and the kids are up past their bedtime, so will I come back another day to help unwrap and place the new piece(s)? Of course I will!

I came across an adorable elephant tea pot recently that I felt I just had to buy, even though I already have a perfectly good teapot in my cupboard already. Here it is:

_
For several weeks, the little dude's been sitting on my counter, waiting to be used.

Finally, a few days ago,  because I was sick, I got around to making some tea. And you know what I found?

This tea pot sucks.

I mean... it's awful. Truly.

Worst. Design. Ever.

You have to turn it practically upside to get any tea out, which makes liquid seep out from under the lid, likely burning your hands. And the holes on the inside of the pot are so small, you can only pour a slow-moving, measly dribble.

This is seriously annoying.

So, since functionality is nil, I'm going back to my old pot. But what to do with this elephant? I don't want to give him to Goodwill where he may be bought by some unsuspecting individual who will soon find him/herself with scalded hands. And besides, the thing's cute. It doesn't work in the way it's intended, but it's still cute.

So, I thought: planter.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but this planter idea isn't really working, is it? What can I do differently to make this elephant useful in some way? Do you think it would be better with a different kind of plant inside? Help!

As some of you may know, I'm getting married soon. And with a marriage (whether you give in to having a "real" wedding or not -- and we're not) comes gifts. Gifts come no matter how much you discourage people.

And I have to say... it's not all bad. While I feel a little awkward about people spending money on me, there are a few things I want, and it's lovely to get them.

Case in point: my soon-to-be aunt Elaine and her partner Archie wanted to get Nate and I flatware, and they asked us what sort we might like. This gave me the opportunity to get something I've wanted for ages: a set of vintage, "Thai Bronze" flatware, via an independent Etsy seller in Iowa.

The set is so beautiful and unique. I've been shopping for flatware for a long time and I've never come across a set as unusual as this one. The whole shebang comes in its original box, and includes more than 140 pieces.

Considering that my current flatware is from Canadian Tire ($9.99) and sports cracking plastic handles and flaking metal that is probably giving me cancer, this gift is even more awesome.

We ordered it more than a week ago, and it hasn't arrived yet. The photos shown are from the original Etsy seller: Debby Does Vintage. I have to be patient, because when items like this cross the border, they're often held up at customs... but I'm super excited.

Thanks to Elaine & Archie, and to Debby too. I can't wait.

Know what I've really been into lately?

Pheasants.

All sorts of pheasants. Regular pheasants, wild pheasants, golden pheasants. Pheasant salt and pepper shakers, pheasant earrings, pheasants on plates and glassware.

It's kitschy, but I'm obsessed. Not sure why. I've just got pheasants on the brain.

 

I have no idea what's wrong with me. The whole "put a bird on it" thing hasn't seemed to dampen my enthusiasm at all. And objectively speaking, pheasants are kind of ugly... aren't they?

Besides that, I already HAVE several. A couple of yellow ones are sitting on my coffee table right now.

Not sure what to do about this, or even why I'm sharing with you. Any members of pheasants anonymous out there? Wanna commiserate?

First off, friends, my apartment was featured on Apartment Therapy today. Abby Cook took photos that are way better than anything I can imagine taking, ever, so you should really check it out.

In the piece, I mention my hall credenza, that I sort of built/upcycled from kitchen cabinets. Thought I'd use today to talk about how I made it. Here goes:

Initially, my front hall (which is also a main wall in my living room) looked like this:

And it was fine, I guess. But it was also busy. And it started to annoy me. I turned the spines of my books backwards in an effort to create more calm, but it didn't really work. How could I store all the stuff I needed to store, while leaving plenty of room for people to walk down the hall? Closed bookcases? A shallow console? What?

I hunted around, but I couldn't find a piece that suited my needs ANYWHERE. Billy bookcases from IKEA (with doors) were an option, but I just didn't want Billys. Traditional consoles were too fat. So I decided to hack something together.

Here's what I used:
3 assembled kitchen cabinet uppers (Home Depot)
8 fence post spires for legs (Home Depot)
6 pieces of linking hardware  (two-screw pieces, 3 across each seam)
Long wood screws (to drill down into the legs from inside the cabinets)
White primer and white paint + a "velvet" roller
6 ring pulls (Lee Valley Hardware) to attach to the centre of each door

Once the three cabinets were linked into one big long piece, and the spires were drilled into and attached as legs, the thing was a behemoth. I needed help to lift it upright. But it sure provides a lot of storage.

I stocked in my books and whatnot and lived with it in its dark brown form for awhile until I settled on painting it white. I should have used melamine paint, but I didn't. I used regular latex paint and primer. And such paint can chip easily. (It already has, in fact.) But oh well. Melamine paint is too hard to work with/too stinky. I didn't paint the insides of the cabinets. Only the outsides.

The final touch was adding brass hardware to the centre of each door.

Here's the end result, as shot by Abby for Apartment Therapy:

SO MUCH STORAGE and it's all hidden away. And in my opinion, it doesn't look like a set of kitchen cabinets anymore.

It's fantabulous if I do say so myself. (And I do. I do indeed.)

Hey dudes... guess what!?

We're getting close to Apartment Therapy day! Apparently, my house tour is set to be posted next week. (Woo woo!)

In the meantime, I have one sneak peek photo to show you, taken by the lovely Abby Cook (who shot our place for the feature). AND, it's a great picture to share because it really highlights one of my recent projects: bright door edging.

I was inspired to paint the edge of every door in our apartment after I saw the September 2001 issue of Martha Stewart Living. The mag featured this project among other easy ways to jazz up your doors and it seemed so simple, I couldn't wait to try it.

I did a different, complimentary or contrasting colour on every door. The guest room (shown above) has green accents, so I chose a bright acid green edge for that room. Our bathroom is dark chocolate brown, and I used a hot pink in there. In our dark blue bedroom, the door edge is now pumpkin orange, and in the dining room, it's teal.

You could use any acrylic paint for this project, and I would recommend you apply it with a plain old artist paint brush. Don't bother taping. The door itself will guide you, and if you slip up, just wipe away your mistake with a wet rag. Acrylic is very easy to work with.

In order to get a REALLY bright look, I went with some of the new colours/paints from the Mantegna line, purchased at Woolfit's in Toronto. (Any art store will have good paints. I went to Woolfit's because it's around the corner from my office.) You only need a little tube of any one colour to do each door, and you'll have paint left over.

_See the "Luminous Green" shown on the right of the top-most line of colours? That's what you see in the first picture above.

This is an EXTREMELY fast and easy project. I highly recommend you try it. When your doors are closed, you won't notice the change at all, but when they're open, you get that pop of colour and it's fun and happy. Think about it.