To Reupholster Or Not To Reupholster



Hans Blomquist

For several years I have fantasized about having a custom upholstery  piece of furniture. We are considering moving a sofa we have to a new spot but it's not dog/kid friendly. So I thought I'd look into seeing how much a slip cover would cost.

One thing that had often stopped me was I didn't know where to begin. But I got online punching in my zip code and a search came up with a couple of businesses in my area. One person called me right away and made an appointment to come out and give me an estimate. I had looked at her website and liked her work.

I wondered who does this old art form anymore? Silvia arrived and was a stylish, slender woman who brought fabric samples and a measuring tape. Kneeling here and there and willing to walk out in the mud to see the other stored piece, she was professional. She learned how to upholster from her parents business in South America and came to Virginia in 2000. I wanted to go to Sylvia's workshop and watch the process. I want to learn how to transform old furniture into beautiful things! But I can barely thread a sewing machine, what could I do?


I saw a special on Jack White where he said he was an upholsterer before he had his band which made me like him even more. He learned guitar after work at that job.
    
Silvia said she would come and pick up the sofa and have it returned in two weeks. The cost is almost as much as new sofa so I have to think about it and find the right fabric. On the positive side I would have something exactly as I want it, one of a kind and washable. And it's recycling too.

Part 2: Wilco Wasn't Here But I Was

The reason he had to go to the birthday party had layers I won't go all into it but what's cool is when he applied for the IT job at Paul Reed Smith, 500 other people did too. In order to stand out at a guitar manufacturer's company he brought in his guitar and performed numbers at the interview. It worked, he got the job. They had a weird relationship from what I was told. I think he was well liked by his boss but suffice it to say they were friends with undertones of rank. He had to be at the party.


picture courtesy of Yolkie on blogger

 Back to the band. The venue was a warehouse up on a ledge overlooking a river. I don't know where we were, around 695, maybe Towson. It was cold and damp when we arrived to set up and practice we were locked out for a long time. Finally, when we got in we were met stiffly by a tenant. It was an uncomfortable welcome. On entering the place either side had padlocked doors. As we moved through the art filled foyer it turned into a huge open space where a woman was burning sage all around like she had a wand. There was a Buddha statue off in a small alcove behind the stage and modern art was scattered around. The entire far wall was all thin glassed windows with a view of the river. So these artist types rented out their space as a business. It was so friggin' cool. Their bedrooms were by the entrance and the rest of the place was for parties. There was a big cafeteria style kitchen with a roll up window for food and drink orders.

After rehearsal we headed out to kill time before the show and the Wilco dudes were coming in. No, I was not noticed and catapulted from my normal life into one of luxury and fame. Perhaps another time. The musician dudes talked shop. Come showtime it went great. The shy artist really nailed it and I was impressed by the evolution of the practically impromptu band. They supported their friend and were able to learn the tunes really fast and rock out. The small crowd was mostly friends as usual and afterward a couple of us bolted to the birthday party in Baltimore. I don't recall much about that party. The thrill of the night was the novelty of everything going on around me.

We did hightail it back to the warehouse to hear Glenn Kotche's band rock out. When we got there I was amazed because now the place was PACKED. I could barely see the band through the crowd. The windows were steamed and I wandered around taking unnoteworthy pictures of an extraordinary night.

Wilco Wasn't Here But I Was

February 18, 2006 was a good night. I have to document it before I totally forget because it was pre-Facebook and my journal was destroyed therefore it may not have happened. I have a few photos somewhere possibly on film, dear God.

It was a time of some chaos in my life. That night was no different. I was living with a musician and he and his friends had been on the music scene around College Park, MD for 15 plus years. One of their previous band mates, the least motivated in the bunch, had just gotten a break and was picked up by a major metal band. The metal band was browsing a local music store asking if anyone knew of anyone who could play a Hammond organ. His name was given, they knocked on his mom's door and he was signed, on a tour bus, money in his pocket within days. An absolute 180 from getting drunk and sleeping on mom's couch. Everyone was a bit shocked "the dream" happened to him out of all of them.

This brings me to another dream-come-true story which created this night. I don't remember his name but he was a musician and a fan of Wilco. He wrote on their MySpace page. Glenn Kotche checked out his music liked it and said, "Hey, you find a place for us to play there (Baltimore) and you can open for us." Something like that. All I know is 1. He was going to get to perform his music (which had never been performed nor was there a band to preform it) 2. He was going to get to hang with people he admired 3. He was going to open for Wilco musicians and plan their flippin show.

Wilco

It was a side project with Glenn Kotche and maybe Pat Sansone but I can't find what the name of the band was, nor recall it. I'm thinking this gig was just for kicks and I'm the only one documenting it. Afterall, it all went down in some random warehouse.

A day or so before the show, there was a quick practice. I attended. My roomate was the drummer and his bandmate the guitar player for these never performed songs. I went because I love being a fly on the wall. Especially that afternoon. The poor guy was a shy talented person. I wanted to see how he was going to work this out in such short time. Nothing like a dream smacking you upside the head. You have show up son! The guy was all nerves and doubting himself. That afternoon he was in the 'I'm not going to do this' stage.

The guitar player in the band was in a bit of a bind. He wanted to help his friend out and play the gig but that same night he had a prior commitment to attend a party for his boss and friend Paul Reed Smith. It was his 50th birthday party and a big bash was planned at The Ram's Head that night. He HAD to be at the star studded party. He planned to set up at the gig run to the birthday party and then come back to play then get back to the party. Whatever his plan it was tricky. Tricky, and he needed my help. Both were private parties.
To be continued...

Neon Boneyard

This week I found a cool place to visit when I'm in Vegas called the Neon Museum. A culmination of some of my favorite things; letters, vintage signs, neon and awesome photo opportunities. It's a place where old Vegas neons go to retire or get born again. 

Photo credit Glark on Flickr



Here are a bunch of shots on Flickr. Looks like a fun place.
 

This week I took advantage of Old Navy's 20%-40% off sale for the kids. It's over tomorrow and they have great basics cheap and they arrive fast. I'm getting ready for summer. I'm hopeful about the suns return.

 

Elisabeth Irwin

I am also getting ready for Sam's 1st birthday. I am trying to decide on a theme. Since he came early he didn't have a shower or announcements so I want the invite to be extra special. I've been looking at paper airplanes for a theme. Check out my Pinterest board to see what I've pinned so far. My mom was a stewardess in the 50's and my dad a navigator for USAF so aside from just liking planes it's a family thing.

Vegas Bound

We're going to Vegas on an extended date night next month. It's been a couple of years since we've taken a vacation and there will be no babies on board! The 'old us' is bound to come out and have fun.

pam sattlers flickr

This will be my second time there. I was absolutely surprised that I LOVED it when I went for Kaydra's birthday 4 years ago. L O V E D  I T. 

cheer_dad flickr

We are staying @ The Golden Nugget in old town cuz I liked the vibe. It reminded me of old Omaha. That steak house, dingy carpet, 60's lighting feel. If the walls could talk it would be in a raspy cigarette stained voice about leisure suits, Manhattans and dirty money.
 

retrogirly.tumblr.com

 I have no idea what to wear. I feel like I should get hair extensions and a boob job real quick. Anyway, I will be planning for that the next few weeks. Excited! Any suggestions about what we should see while there?

Tales Of Cured Meats

They say the palate develops with age but tis true I have liked cured meat since childhood: pepperoni, summer sausage, beef jerky and so on. There have been a few defining cured meat moments. One was when my Frosted Miniwheat a.m. ritual was blown away in Germany. I was offered pepperoni, cheese and bread for breakfast. A people who began the day with pepperoni? Swoon.

Another chapter was when the salty beast went into hibernation while I was a vegetarian for a several years. Except for the occasional breakfast sausage (I could only go so far) I was pretty much meat free.  

A few years ago I visited Palmyra, PA. In a blue collar PA neighborhood that smelled funny and where the houses looked really run down my vegetarianism went up in smoke. Literally.  

Turned out these pungent and charred smokehouses are a staple of the Dutch Seltzer's Lebanon Bologna.  One of the last meat smokehouses in the USA according to Dirty Jobs. And the home to some old-school kick-butt cured meat!

You may want to sit down for this. Their gift shop is also a THRIFT STORE. Smoked meats and bargains? I was a convert. Meatless no more. This wonderful bologna awakened the Pepperidge Farm memories and brought back my inner meat loving child. Less than 4 miles from Hershey, PA it's definitely worth a visit and a taste. 

Stella Rides The Train

Last weekend I got to experience how chaos quickly fades into the shadows when your kid smiles from her little soul.

Rewind to this fall. I showed Stella the train that goes clacking and dinging around Wegman's on a track above the aisles. She was hooked. On the way home that night we stopped first in line at some tracks for an oncoming train. I rolled down the windows as the warning horn blared and the train crushed by us. Then in the quiet electric air a long scream of excitement came from the backseat and a train lover was born.



Stella in her new pants from the mall.

Trains have since been part of our daily conversations. After a few weeks I decided a metro ride would have to suffice in the middle of winter. Do you know what you have to pack for a 3 hour excursion with 2 babies on a 30 degree January day?!

The day included train delays on the outside platform. Some public crying. A wet diaper that leaked onto the pizza parlor floor with no spare pants in the diaper bag. A trip to the mall for new pants. A few hiccups but of course it was all worth it. Stella was blissful and when that happens not much else matters but seeing trains.

Taco Pie Remembered

What do you do with left over pie crust? Make taco pie of course! I haven't had this since I was a kid. It was good, easy and something a little different so I thought I'd share my nostalgic recipe.  

photo credit from Allrcipes.com


Ingredients:
1 pie crust
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 package of ground turkey meat
1/2 chopped onion
1 packet of taco spice
2/3 cup water
1 can of chopped tomatoes
1 can of black beans rinsed  and drained
1 cup of shredded sharp cheddar
(optional sour cream, black olives & jalapenos)

• Bake the empty pie crust at 400 for 15 minutes while starting the meat
• Heat the olive oil and start the onions
• Add turkey meat
• Add the taco spice and water to the meat as directed on season packet
• Begin to layer the ingredients into pie crust; meat, beans, tomatoes then cheese
• Bake about 20-25 minutes at 350 to melt the cheese and brown the crust

ENJOY! I added sour cream and jalapenos after cooked. My mom use to put canned black olives in the pie and a top pie crust too.

Daydreaming This Cold Away

This week has been cold. February cold. And we still have February to bear. As Tom Robbins said, "If February is the color of lard on rye, its aroma is that of wet wool trousers.".

I supremely dislike February so it's high time to transport myself. Since it will not be physically I will have to suffice with remembering a great vacation we took that has been on my mind lately.

About to enter Grand Teton National Park

IT WAS WARM in September 2009 and Mountain Man, Spike and I drove from Colorado Springs to Glacier National Park. We slept in the back of a minivan (down by the river) at national parks most nights. We had campfires. Ate from cans. The best part was seeing all of those great parks and that part of the USA. Yellowstone is magical with its history & beauty. You can imagine all of the people who stayed at the old hotels and ate in the those grand dining rooms. So many artists photographing and painting those iconic images we get to call ours.

22 miles SE of Old Faithful

We had a run in with a buffalo and saw a bear run across the road. Cattle road blocked us. Windmills filled the horizon sometimes. The night sky was so clear we saw the Milky Way as close as if we could reach up and grab it. We drove through Indian Reservations. Raced to get the last available campsite more than once. Found the place we'd like to buy a vacation home. Thought about writing a Spike adventure book. Such a great trip. Did I mention it was warm? I hope you are thinking warm thoughts to get you through too.

I Do Apologize

Why must conversions always come so late? Why do people always apologize to corpses? David Brine (science-fiction writer)

This weekend reminded me how I got over a huge hump a few years ago when I learned to say I'm sorry. An ex, who shall remain nameless, used to complain to me, "Why don't you apologize? You never say you're sorry, you could do that once in a while".
It's something I very rarely did. Before him I never gave it much thought. I didn't grow up hearing it and I continued the tradition by holding on to my ego and pride as if my life depended upon it. I could not admit to being wrong even if I felt bad for whatever I did. I would get stuck in the mud.

His question was valid and began some thinking.
I have found that it is very freeing to apologize. It begins to untangle the guilt of an error. It shows someone you respect/love them enough to do something difficult and that you care. It usually gets things moving back in a positive direction. And it even begins the forgiveness to myself instead of harboring guilt for a mistake. It just feels good.