I looked skeptically at the tiny pot of paint in my hand. It was smaller than an single-serving yogurt — almost the size of a teeny jar of jam on a hotel room service tray. How was I going to paint anything more than a picture frame with it, I wondered.
The nice people at Annie Sloan Chalk Paint had sent me a package for their #MadeItMyOwn campaign. Annie Sloan Chalk Paint has been around since 1990 and is the OG, as the young people say. But somehow I’d tried every other chalk-type paint on the market except Annie’s. It was time to put it to the test.

The pretty box contained Annie’s new book, Annie Sloan Paints Everything, as well as sample pots of paint and wax, and two of the nicest paintbrushes I have ever owned. I wanted to paint an old hand-me-down table so I could test out the famous Annie Sloan paint, but . . . one jar was likely not going to cut it.

They’d sent me four colours and I decided to use the light grey (Paris Grey) with the thought that if I ran out, I could paint half the table with the darker grey (Graphite) and give it a two-toned look. I mean, the little plastic pots only held four fluid ounces (or 118ml, which sounded like a lot more) and I was painting over dark, shiny wood.
I carried the table out to the deck on a sunny afternoon, spread out a beach towel (to protect the newly stained deck from my inevitable splatters) and started painting. The brush! Oh, that brush with its smooth wooden handle and oval-shaped bristles. I’d never painted with something so rich. (I almost choked when I looked online and saw they retail for between $35 and $60 each.) My friend, Rose, from Philips & Chestnut Victorian Salvage and Decor here in Truro (formerly Onslow Historic Lumber) has always told me it’s worth it to invest in good brushes, but I’d never believed her before.
I WAS VERY WRONG.




Early last month, I shared how I was shaking up our summer vacation by introducing some more structure (YES, PLEASE! STRUCTURE IS MY BAE!) in the form of light summer school.
There was the morning reading, which was important because I was plagued with irrational fears that D would forget how to read over the summer.
He has not forgotten (whew) and we all enjoyed the daily Berenstain Bears readings.

And then there’s been the daily worksheet(s) and/or spelling tests.
The spelling tests are my personal favourite, as I get to whip out my best Grown-up Teacher Voice.

After they’re finished their work for the morning, they get to choose two stickers from this coolio book, Stick it To ‘Em: Playful Stickers to Color & Create.*
(It was sent to me for review, and it’s really cute. Even when I had to choke back laughter when D chose a sticker that says “Son of a beach” and kept repeating “Son of a beach! Son of a beach! Mom, what’s that mean?”)
(Thanks to Education.com for providing this free downloadable worksheet — a kayaking maze — for Heather’s Handmade Life readers. It’s perfect for little ones in Primary.)

But I’m the first to admit we didn’t do the worksheets and spelling tests EVERY day.
I’d also enrolled them in an advanced, highly individualized program called Having Fun Being a Kid 101.

This course was completed without the assistance of an instruction. The instructor woke up and discovered the student had started (and finished) the How To Build a Bouncy Ball lesson* independently.

We built what just may be the most INTENSELY COMPLICATED hydraulic robot arm ever made. The box specified 10+ but I’m 33 34 and found it hella challenging. It took us five hours of solid concentration (and greasing teeny tiny plastic tubes with a teeny tiny plastic wand) and I’m still not over it.

I mean, really. The deck wasn’t going to stain itself!

Is this not the yummiest-looking French Toast on hamburger buns you’ve ever seen? Ignore the fact that it looks like peanut-buttered English muffins. It isn’t.

I may have gotten mediocre marks in gym class as a kid, but these kids? They’re too cool for school.

Babysitting a friend’s chickens = best afternoon ever.
Trying to keep the chickens from escaping = terrifying.

Proudly supporting what matters during our town’s Pride celebrations.

Navigating the murky waters with a small group of classmates.

Is Anne of Green Gables’ Rasberry Cordial just Sprite with some red food colouring? Is an evil soda conglomerate over-commercializing our beloved redheaded orphan by marketing overpriced sugary drinks to children? Discuss in a 1,000 word essay.

The students were awarded bonus points for not getting too close to the waves. And not falling in, of course.

The four-way partnership resulted in individual profits of more than $3. They parted amicably after liquidating their inventory.

Newton’s laws of motion were compared and contrasted with the percentage of deliciousness in cotton candy.

Students were tasked with exploring new worlds and plotting a complex route. The instructors were tasked with remaining patient during a very long expedition with many stops.

Was existed before the Wii, the WiiU, and the DS? What is that strange, crumbling artifact with origins in the early 1990s? Why is the screen not colour, and what does it mean to adjust contrast with a slider? All of these questions (and more) answered in this eight-week course.
***
It’s been an intensely educational summer, and surely Primary and Grade 2 will seem like a vacation compared to that course load.
As for the instructor?
Well, she’s looking forward to a sabbatical.
*Affiliate links used

Whether this will be your first year walking your child to the bus stop, or you’re a seasoned pro at the stroll, stand and socialize routine, you need to be dressed for the role.
Trends for the 2017-18 school bus season include faded flannel PJ pants and oversized sweaters, accessorized with wool caps and travel mugs. We’re seeing a shift away from the curlers-and-slippers vibe, with an emphasis on casual elegance.
Let’s start with the basics. Get dressed if you want, sure. But after the first day or two, I usually only have real clothes on if I’m planning on driving somewhere as soon as that bus pulls away.
The trick is to plan ahead. I only wear nightgowns or shortie pyjamas when I know I’ll either (A) be getting dressed before the bus in the morning, or (B) won’t be going to the bus in the morning. Otherwise I’m forced to change out of them, into something bus-stop appropriate, and maybe I don’t WANT to get dressed yet.
Flannel PJ pants are a bus stop staple, especially in the winter. If you find yourself waking up in jammies that shouldn’t leave the house — we all have a pair or two with a hole in the crotch — throw on a pair of yoga pants instead. Otherwise you’ll find yourself pressing your legs together in the cold, hoping no one sees the rip and wishing you had some underwear on …
Pyjamas can be elevated by throwing on a sweater or a jacket. It’s still clear you’re wearing PJs, but not obvious that you’re also braless. Yes, it kind of sucks to wear a sweater when it’s hot, but if you skip it, that’s going to be the morning someone new shows up (a handsome dad) and you’re forced to awkwardly cross your arms the whole time.
From mid-September to early May, you’ve got the green light to wear a comfy knit cap to the bus stop. Just plunk it on over your tangled morning hair and you’re good to go. Any hair peeking out below the hat doesn’t have the just-rolled-out-of-bed look — it’s casually tousled.
I wear (or bring) sunglasses to the bus stop every single day. Squinting causes wrinkles, and sunglasses also hide your tired, early-morning (mascara-less) eyes. Plus, you can close your eyes, if you’re the first to arrive, and you don’t look like a weirdo standing with their eyes closed on the sidewalk.
“Bus shoes” are any pair that are easy to throw on and don’t require bending over to tie. You want something comfortable that you can slide into while simultaneously slipping a lunch bag into a backpack and twirling yourself into the first adult-sized jacket you can grab. My bus shoes are sandals or slip-on BOBS until it’s so cold that my feet go numb. Then I switch to my winter boots, unlaced for that cool haphazard look.
Once you’ve hefted backpacks onto little shoulders, you will have about four seconds to grab what you need. Your pocket should contain a couple of crumpled tissues — for seasonal allergies in fall and spring, and constant runny noses throughout the winter — and a piece of lint-covered emergency gum for the days you can’t remember if you brushed your teeth.
Grab your phone so you can check the time and tut to the other parents about how the bus “seems to be running late this morning” (this occurs all mornings). Most importantly, pick up the travel mug of hot tea or coffee that you hastily, but lovingly, prepared for the journey down the street. If you tend to hang around chatting with the other parents long after the bus has left, consider taking a second mug for proper sustenance.
Now hit that catwalk — er, sidewalk — with a confident little spin. You’ve got this.

We eat a lot of leftovers these days. Mostly because my husband and I both hate cooking, so we’d rather intentionally cook enough for a couple of days. But also because groceries are HELLA EXPENSIVE and we feel bad wasting food.
Back in the pre-kids days, we ate out a lot (#memories). It took a while for us to get into the groove of planning meals and actually USING the groceries we’d buy, instead of guiltily dumping them into the garbage.
(Compost wasn’t our thang, and you didn’t *have* to do it in the era of What Are Clear Garbage Bags? Black Bags Rule!)
If you want to read a REALLY old post (2009-old) about me feeling super proud of myself for turning random, unappetizing fridge stuff into lunches for the next day, it’s here.
The other day I decided our fridge was getting too full of leftovers, and it was time to create a full meal out of them before they went back.
Behold!

It was a total mismash of several days’ worth of lunches and dinners, along with random baby carrots and grape tomatoes thrown in for nutritional value.
The key to serving leftovers your family will actually EAT is presentation.
You need to take old, tired, sad food and make it look NEW, DELICIOUS and NOT LIKE LEFTOVERS.
So I took out a cutting board, knives, and a couple of clean plates, and I started cutting and microwaving things in batches.
After a few minutes, I had these four trays …

Let’s start with the grown-up trays, which were for me and my dad …

A little bit of leftover pizza, a few grape tomatoes, and neat rows of more dinner leftovers.

Doesn’t everything look better in rows?
I made sure to put “like” things together, so nothing was touching something weird — like chicken touching ground beef.
It’s sort of like that old riddle about crossing the river and making sure the wolf isn’t left alone on shore with the chickens because he’ll eat them.

It was all pretty delicious. The hamburgers weren’t very good reheated, so I gave most of mine to Annabelle.
Then there were the kids’ trays …

I gave them slightly different leftovers, including the uneaten A&W from lunch at the mall. C is a very slow eater and barely touched her burger, and D scarfed his burger but not the fries.
I never care if they don’t eat their meal in a restaurant (or a food court, in this case) because they’re usually distracted and/or excited, or just filling up on pop — their favourite dining-out treat. I just put everything back in the bags and bring it home.

The kids happily ate their full trays. I never say we’re having leftovers for lunch or dinner. I say we’re having “special tray lunch” or “special tray dinner,” and they’re pumped to see what it’s going to be.
When I’m including something they may not like, it’s all about the toothpicks. Anything looks cuter on its own little toothpick, even questionable lunch meat.
***
After our meal of leftovers, the fridge was looking a lot cleaner and we were ready for a fresh load of groceries!
Do you do this, too? Or does your family have no problem eating off the Mystery Tinfoiled Plates without elaborate presentation tricks?
*Affiliate links used



Painting over perfectly nice white cabinets seemed like a crazy idea to a lot of people — even people in my own family, ahem.
But when I decided to paint a light fixture . . . while it was still on the wall? Well, that stunt was almost too much for them.
Some people — not naming names — still don’t trust my creative instincts, even after all these years. Oh well. I’m a strong, independent woman and that means not asking for permission, right?
Remember last week, when I talked about painting the bathroom cabinets a custom-mixed shade of mauve? (Yes, it was a totally off-the-wall colour selection, but I love the calm, feminine touch it adds to our bathroom.) It was the first step in transforming our top-floor bathroom from “modern, simple and airy” to “cozy, calming and hygge.”

Hygge (pronounced hue-guh), if you’ll recall, is the Danish practice of making people feel comfortable and snug. There’s a lot of talk about warm soup and cups of coffee, but in design terms it means soft linens, candles, wood, calming colours, etc.
We don’t have a master bathroom — just a “cheater ensuite” that we share with our two children — so I wanted to take what we have and make it feel more like a calming, spa-like master bath.
After I painted the cabinets, my gaze tilted up towards the ceiling …


