Friday, September 18, 2015

Unique Firewood Rack

I have been searching for years - literally - for a unique firewood rack for our front porch. We have a woodpile way down in the backyard and I never go down there to get firewood because its yucky and spidery. Usually Poodie goes down with a wheelbarrow, fills it up with firewood, brings it up to the front porch, and either tosses it all in a big ugly pile on the porch, or simply leaves it in the wheelbarrow, parked in the flowerbed right in front of the porch. #classy.

I stalked garage sales, Craigslist, and thrift stores for one of these:























 
 
 
Or one of these:
























But definitely not something like this:

 

It looks like a butt, or worse: boobies! I'm sure a bachelor would love a rack like this. Get it?! Rack?? #icrackmyselfup. But it would never work for us. Poodie and the boys would constantly be laughing and making jokes. OK, honestly, I would be too. "Hey, go get some firewood from the giant butt on the front porch."

Anyhoo. Years of searching for something was getting me nowhere. I didn't want to pay retail. I was holding out for something vintage and/or unique. The cheaper, the better. I had given up and resigned myself to one more winter of a messy pile of wood on the porch or in the wheelbarrow in the flowerbed.

Until last week.

My brother in law, who just bought an absolutely disastrous piece of property near us, was out there clearing away the garbage and blackberry bushes, and sent me a text.

"Found an old metal rack buried out here. Do you want it?"  He knows I like old rusted dented things. I told him I'd take a look next time I was out there.

When I saw it, I jumped up & down and clapped my hands. It was perfect!! An old icky ski rack from a local sporting goods store. I couldn't believe it!!

It is now living happily on my porch. Poodie filled it with firewood, just so. He does like to indulge me sometimes, especially when I find something FREE that suits my fancy and doesn't embarrass him.

 
Could it be any cuter??!?
 
 
Sorry for the poor quality photos; I shot these with my phone.

The moral of the story? I am learning to hold out for what I truly have in mind, instead of settling for something I don't love just to finish a project and move on. Yay! Now if only I can keep this up for the rest of the house.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Welcome!

Hi! I'm Lauren {aka Mrs. Poodie} and I am so happy you found my little blog!

I'm sure you're wondering what's up with the name Mrs. Poodie. I get asked that a lot. Its pretty simple: I call my husband Poodie. Its one of those dumb "you had to be there" stories that everybody wants to hear and once we tell it they look at us like ....... oh. #anticlimatic. So I won't bore you with the story.

We live with our two adorable boys in a very regular house in a little country town 40 minutes from Seattle.

I LOVE being a mom because I get to hang out with awesome little dudes all day and watch Star Wars and build things with Legos and make hilarious videos with the Helium Booth app. My kids are my favorite people. Having kids was not the plan but oh my word; when I look at our boys, I am so grateful they came along. I was meant to be a Boy Mom. Its the best job ever. You get to watch Adventure Time and go to the demolition derby and eat mini corn dogs for dinner if you want to. It means having the LOUDEST house in the neighborhood and a yard full of bikes, scooters, and lightsabers. It means laughing about farts, and emailing the Magic Eraser company to tell them what a great job their product does removing boogers from walls (and they totally wrote back FYI). It means being adored by a houseful of delicious menfolk. It means being told "don't lose weight Mommy, I like you all squishy and snuggly." Seriously ....... its the best.

OK, but, Playing House, you ask? Not THAT kind of playing house! Get your mind out of the gutter! What I mean is, ever since I became a mom, I have felt like a complete imposter. Being a mom means you have to do Grown-Up Stuff like meal plan and scrub toilets and fold clothes and keep the linen closet organized. What the heck?! I am constantly walking around in a confused state of Who Am I And Why Am I Doing These Grown-Up Things? I feel like a little girl clomping around in her mom's high heels. Once of these days somebody is going to find out what an idiot I am and send me back to fourth grade. "Um, that lady was just engaging in a lightsaber battle, and now she's wearing an apron and making chicken & dumplings." Something is wrong with this picture.

Having said that, I have been decor-obsessed as long as I can remember. I have started and deleted countless blogs on the subject in the past ten years of my career as a stay-at-home-mom. But I really think this blog will be the keeper. This will be my crazy place to share the ways I play house: changing & rearranging everything, cooking (nothing fancy though, don't get your hopes up), organizing, and forever working on #projectBBG (Brown-Be-Gone: ridding our house of the mid 2000s Pottery Barn look that I adopted in desperation as a nesting 7-months-pregnant, working-full-time, 25-year-old who didn't know what she liked).

When I'm not obsessing over removing brown from our house, you can find me homeschooling, doodling, napping, eating chips, reading blogs, browsing Pinterest, watching Star Wars (episodes 4-6 only!) or the LOTR/Hobbit series with my kids, painting walls, talking to our bearded dragon, thrifting, and of course doing laundry.

I can shake up a mean dirty vodka martini, but prefer rum & Diet Coke.

I love parentheses, italics, sarcastic hashtags, lists, office supplies, cheeseburgers, autumn, rain, napping, chalkboards, anything studded/punk rock, VWs, cozy pants, flipflops, and camping.

I hate mustard.

Oddly enough, I would love to be a traveling vagabond and not even own a house to decorate.

I hope you enjoy this glimpse into my world.