Holy Pinterest, Batman!

Pinterest has changed our lives. It has inspired us to craft to greater heights. It has taught us that Everyone Can Cook (or was that Ratatouille?). It has feed our inner Geek. It has inspired us to think about working out. It has turned us all into the next Martha Stewart. And it has made us all feel lazy and worthless, too.

We have jumped on the Pinterest Bandwagon with both feet. We've cut up our old t-shirts to make ill hanging infinity scarves. We've hot glued our fingers to ribbons more times than we'd like to admit. We've dipped our nails in polish floating in cold water. We've slathered coconut oil on everything that will sit still long enough. We've tried to furnish our homes with nothing more than old books and tossed out pallets. We've coveted our neighbor's wardrobe.

But by far, my favorite thing about Pinterest is all the things it has convinced us we can clean absolutely anything with baking soda, vinegar, and peroxide. And we've tried. Oh, how we've tried.

I will fully admit to attempting to clean my oldest, nastiest of baking sheets with baking soda and peroxide. The before and after pictures on Pinterest were undeniable. There was even a pan divided down the middle with one side gleaming and perfect, the other grungy and stained. But scrub as I might, it was to no avail. My pan was no more "like new" when I'd finished (and chipped away my Pinterest office supply manicure) than it was when I'd started.

So when I saw the "clean your oven burners with ammonia" Pin, I thought it certainly couldn't hurt to try.

 My burner tops have seen better days. The stove was brand new when we moved in 10 years ago (have I really been in the country that long?!) and as much as I've tried, I haven't been able to keep it looking that way. They've been soaked. They've been scrubbed. They've been scoured. They've been run through the dishwasher. Nothing was cutting through that seared on nastiness. Nothing.

 We spent the last 30 years being promised cleaning products were ammonia free. We've demonized ammonia. After smelling it, I can understand why but I also love the idea of a half gallon of dilutable cleanser for under $2. It's just the smell I can't get past.

I crammed my burners in their bags last night before bed, put in a half a tablespoon of ammonia (it calls for 1/4 cup but all you really need are the fumes; the burners do not need to soak in ammonia), and sealed them up for the night.

It wasn't an instant, no scrub miracle, but the 10 years of gunk that has never budged an inch no matter what I've done became much more forgiving. A bit of scrubbing with a nylon scrubber, and (while not perfectly spotless) my burners look good! I scrubbed all 4 down and the two that were the worst off are in for a second fumigation in their bags of ammonia.

So now the big question is, where to I find a ziploc bag big enough to hold my entire stove?

On Anniversaries and Dry Wall

I've been so infatuated with Pinterest that I missed my very own Blogoversary on the 5th. I've been filling the Interwebs with my prattle for a full 6 years & 2 days. I've had followers come & go. I've had Spammers fill my comments with Viagra ads. I've had luls in my posting. I've posted 4 times in a single day. But I'm still here. If you decide to take a stroll through my archives -Long ago & Farm Away on the side bar- you'll find posts that make it look like I began blogging on January 6th. Do not be fooled. They were post-dated Memes.

I also missed Lilly May's 6th birthday (which was also on the 5th). Luckily, being a Wirehaired Fox Terrier, she hasn't noticed. Amazingly enough, she also didn't complain about being overlooked at Christmas. What can I say? She's wonderfully well mannered when it comes to gifts.

Last week, when we had our new roof put on, I lost my master bath skylight. It's made me rather depressed. When we first looked at the model home I was immediately drawn to a few things: the open great room, the kitchen at the front of the house with an island, the walk-in pantry, the walk-in master closet, the fire place in the corner of the living room, the linen closet in the master bath, and the skylight.

When we realized we had to replace the roof, I knew that meant I'd be losing my brightly lit bathroom. Husband was worried it would eventually leak & we'd have to do major repairs to replace sections of a metal roof. In the end, it's a good thing we did remove it. When the crew was working on the roof, Husband discovered water stains in the attic around the skylight.

It's removal has left a big patch of green drywall exposed on our bathroom ceiling. Husband's been spackling & sanding all week. This weekend he gets to try his hand at texturizing it so it matches the rest of the drywall. I'm a bit nervous about handing him a plastic bag & expecting him to get all artistic. He's a dyed in the wool farm boy after all....but I'm holding out hope that he'll discover a new side of himself. Oh, and his stitches come out today!

Until then I'm afraid we're all going to drown in dry wall dust. Where's a door to door vacuum sales man when you need one?

Oh Pinterest, How I love thee....

I will admit to a certain level of skepticism. When I first heard of 'blogging' I assumed it was a universe full of deluded 30 year old Star Trek enthusiasts living in their mother's basements writing about the time space continuum. And then I started one. I didn't want to join Facebook but I finally gave in & 3.7 seconds later I was a full blown junky. The thought of Tweeting nearly made me break out in hives & while not a true Twitter addict, I do enjoy a jaunt through the trends every now & then.

And now it's Pinterest. I tired to load it a few months back to no avail (Dial-up, my old frenemy) and thought nothing of it afterwards. Just a few days ago something I read sparked my interest & I thought I'd give it a second chance. That was nearly ruined by a 2 day wait for an invitation (WHAT?! Why must one be invited to a virtual cork board?). But now I am in....and I may never come out.

Everything in the world can be mine with a pin. I currently own a Victorian dress complete with bustle, an orange mini pull behind camper, and a fabulous blue glass tile backsplash. I've rekindled my love of graphic lettering. I'm considering selling a kidney to fund my new European-esque wardrobe. Oh, and I need a ceramic garden stool because I'm sure the FarmHands & our pack of wild dogs will respect it & leave it totally intact.

Yup, Pinterest & I will be the best of friends....until Husband realizes I haven't cooked a meal in weeks & the children have no clean underpants. Then I will have to ground myself.