Labeled (At Last)

So, sometime about eighteen months ago or so...I found some chalkboard label paper on super discount clearance at the local craft store. Two full sheets for a couple of dollars. This was when the internet (or my corners of it anyway) were absolutely drowning in chalkboard labels and paint. If it stood still, it should be chalkboarded. I bought the set with the idea of making labels for our kitchen canisters. I doodled all sorts of awesome shapes before I realized that our canisters have big. honking. latches. Which means that on the smallest canisters, you have very little or no room between the latch and the base of the canister.

Good-bye dreams of swhooping labels.

I set it aside figuring I would come up with something brilliant. (Cue the Jeopardy theme music)

I hadn't quite gotten back to it when I decided to pick up an additional canister for instant grits. Unfortunately, our canisters were no longer being sold individually, so to get more we ended up buying an entire second set. Which is fine as we were easily able to fill them, but now we actually needed labels to know what was in them. Labels which we could change since not everything might be an always and forever staple.

Over the weekend I broke out the label paper and got to work. And strangely enough, you know what worked best? Plain rectangles. No frills or echoing or fancy shapes. Le sigh.

18 months and way too much overthinking later, we have labeled canisters. Hooray!

Third Time's the Charm

I made many trips up and down the stairs today. I was putting my craft room back to rights and apparently that included a free stairs workout. (Downstairs with giveaways, upstairs with tape. Downstairs with trash, upstairs with water.) And all day long, I kept seeing this weird black thing on one of the steps. Too dark to be cat hair, too small to be a hairball. And all day I kept wondering what it was and hurrying past it because I was a woman on a mission.

So when it caught my eye again as I was headed upstairs after dinner, I stopped to take a closer look.



Oh, you can't quite see it?

Love in the Kitchen

It's funny when people talk about how they met their significant others. They talk about bars and parties and websites. Churches, workplaces, and classes. But really, that's not the important part. My husband and I met in a class room. Technically, just outside of one, while picking up our quizzes from the week before. But where we fell in love? That was the kitchen.