THRIFTY FIND

I discovered this at a thrift store and felt compelled to buy it. 
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I'm still unsure what it's supposed to be exactly...but I sense potential in this two dollar, frame-y...thing-a-ma-jig.

All I know at this point is that the hunter green color must go.

I immediately fell in love with the antique doorknob. If anything, I could remove it from the frame and use the knob for another project of some kind.

What that project might be, however, I have no clue. Any ideas?

I edited this photo to see what my thrifty project might look like if I kept it all intact and just painted the wood different colors.

A white, scuffed frame and a dark middle might look nice.

Or I could paint the middle a fun, happy color like this. 

Or I could paint it entirely white. The real question is: what do I do with it after that?

I've thought about a wreath tied to the knob with a ribbon.  Can you think of anything else? That's my only idea so far.

I guess I'm hoping for some creative collaboration here. Any other suggestions? I don't want my two bucks to go to waste. 

Slightly Bored,
Rachel

SNAPSHOT SATURDAY {cooling off}

I saw this picture on a blog I stop in on every so often. Doesn't it look glorious?
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I don't think it would have had such a huge impact on me if my house wasn't so BLASTED HOT right now. Idaho doesn't believe in air conditioning.

Imagining an Ocean Swim,
Rachel

QUIET FIREWORKS-

It was our fifth fireworks show since being married, but the first time with just the two of us. We spread out our blanket by the river, ate a picnic dinner, and enjoyed the show surrounded by strangers. 

While waiting for the sun to go down, we entertained ourselves with people-watching. Living in our Rexburg bubble,  some of the characters in Idaho Falls were slightly traumatizing to my sheltered psyche.  For example, we counted five butt cracks. Each time, Andrew proclaimed, "Crack kills!" Then, driving home, we got flipped off twice!

Like I said. Traumatizing. 

But otherwise, a wonderfully, relaxing evening. Hope your holiday was happy too. And crack-less. 

Blinded for Life,

Rachel

TEACHER TUESDAY {skinned bunnies and beans}

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ONE.
A student proudly brought a rabbit pellet to share with the class. One gal, running her hands over the soft fur, said:

"It's really sad, because you have to kill a bunny to get its fur."

A nearby boy said helpfully,"Well, you could just shave it."

I started laughing and tried to explain why this wouldn't work when my usually, clueless guy in the front suddenly sat up straight in his chair.

"Wait! Does shaving a bunny, kill it??"

It took several minutes to get the class back into control.

{source}

TWO.
I was focused on checking names for homework completion when a favorite little character of mine came up and asked, "Do you want to hear something kind of sad?"

My absent minded, "uh huh," was encouragement enough.

"Well," he began, sighing dramatically, "I sneezed into two cans of beans, so I had to eat them all by myself.
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Now I'm really gassy."

The checklist suddenly forgotten, I stared after him as he walked back to his desk. I never did come up with anything to say in response.

HOUSE UPDATE--{rollin' the floor}

A lot has happened with the house these last few weeks:

1. stem walls poured
2. damp proofing applied
3. foundation back-filled
4. trenches dug
5. utilities connected and inspected
6. floor sheeted

This is my most recent picture of the place. 

And actually, it doesn't even look like this anymore. As we speak, Andrew, his brothers, and his dad are framing up the walls. It's all happenin' FAST! 

I. AM. SO. EXCITED.

iPOD BLOGGER

Riley and Auntie Rachel. 

UNLUCKY IN LOVE

Flipping through old pictures, I found one I had taken of a student's limerick poem (written on a Dr. Seuss hat):

There once was a very nice buck.
He met a very nice duck.
He was mating,
The grass was fading
Then he had no luck.

I remember crouching next to his desk to edit the rough and having to re-read it several times. 
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"So...tell me more about what this poem is saying...who doesn't have any luck? What kind of luck doesn't he have...?" 
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No matter how I phrased my questions, I couldn't get him to really explain it satisfactorily. I don't think he really understood the ways in which this poem was just...awkward. And I couldn't ask the questions I really wanted answered without touching on taboo topics in a public elementary school. So I finally just checked spelling and grammar before sending him off to publish his final copy. 

Though I'm still wondering what his mother thinks of my poetry instruction...