Another "simple project", by Bodi

One of these days, I'll learn to accept that no project is ever "simple" with me.

I even know why that is so, too. I am a perfectionist. I'm even mildly OCD about things (I think "pefectionist" is, for many, simply a PC term for OCD).

There you go, I've confessed.

But back to the project; we have, in our bedroom, two pieces of furniture of a very similar style (read: nearly identical), from a similar era. One is a long dresser, complete with mirror. The other is what is what I think is known as a "tallboy" chest of drawers. They are not the same colour (both are stained, not painted), but the colours are complementary.

One came from my family (my parents' first bedroom suite), the other has always belonged to Himself. Even the hardware is identical or complementary. I'm guessing this stuff was THE look in Canadian furniture in the 1970's, as I know my brother also had a tallboy chest of drawers, and we have another, smaller, one for Sir Squeaks, too (from my IL's).

I must confess that, while I never thought the pieces were particularly beautiful as a child, as an adult, they have a certain nostalgic feel to them that makes me really like them.

But the problem is that the tallboy is missing some drawer knobs, and some of the drawer pulls are broken. At first, my intention was to simply replace all the knobs and pulls with new ones, to unify the look of the different pieces. Heck, while I'm at it, I have a nightstand with nine knobs- if I put matching knobs on it, the piece would tie in fairly well with the others, in spite of it not being the same. Such is the joy of hardware; it can work magic.

But, of course, none of the drawer pulls are the same size ("Standardized sizing?" They scoffed, "Who needs that?!"), but modern ones are ...

So, yesterday I happened to be near one of my favourite places to find antique or vintage items (The Old House Revival) and I popped in.

Wouldn't you know it, they happened to have 11 knobs that were the same as the existing ones?  Now I only need three more ... Still working on the drawer pulls, but we'll get there, I'm sure.

Photos to follow...

"Simple" project #2:

I decided it was high time I printed some of the 10 000 digital photos I have taken over the past ten years.

Wow, the things you can do now ... oh, and you can order them from at-home, too. It's like setting a kid loose in a toy store, and saying "pick whatever you want", except, you know, unlike the kid, you have to pay at the end of it ...

So I may have gone a little overboard with the print ordering.

And then, I got the brilliant idea to get larger copies of some of the photos, and frame them to hang on the wall.

Like a giant photo-collage. This idea was not entirely new, although it had really been in its infancy until more recently. Initially, I was going to have all the frames identical to each other. But the frames I had already chosen, while simple, are not inexpensive when you're looking at buying 15 to 20 of them. At once.

And so now there will be some variations in the frames.

Getting the photos printed is nothing. Getting them framed is a bit more of a deal. Figuring out how they will best be arranged on the wall? Now, that's a Project.

Nevermind actually getting them, you know, *on* the wall ...

If I waited for the photos for this project, this blog would never get published.

In which another "simple" project escalates rapidly ...

If you read "l'histoire du sac" (there is an update to this post, btw), you understand by now that no project I decide to undertake *ever* truly remains "simple".

Witness, Exhibit "B";

Our house is, by local standards, rather old. In fact, she turns 100 this year. She came complete with crystal door knobs and brass "backplates" (a fancy technical term I learned while doing the, um, 'research' for this post). Two of the doors have rather ornate backplates, the rest are all very utilitarian.

Here is a photo of one of the decorative backplates, complete with probably 60 years' worth of paint:

A backplate got damaged about 3 months after we moved in. Naturally, it was one of the ornate ones (Murphy's Law ain't got nothing on my four boys).

Equally as commonplace, we did nothing about it for two years. I recently came across the damaged backplate (which had not been on the door since getting damaged- heck, it hadn't been on the door when it got damaged!), and, fueled by my successful (albeit roundabout) restoration of the WWII-era messenger bag, my determination to attend to it was renewed.

So, I first resolved to see if I could find a replacement plate at a local antiques shop where I had previously seen backplates available for purchase, The Old House Revival Company.

And, naturally, I neglected to bring the blinking plate with me (although I had, at least, had the presence of mind to observe that the detail work on it included a fleur de lis).

The staff there were very eager to help me figure out my options once I had exhausted their considerable collection of brass backplates. My son, aka "Sir Squeaksalot", was also very eager to make me part with my money by deciding he really, really liked an antique stereo on display there. Really liked it. Was brave enough to ask a salesperson to ask how much it was*, liked it

*darn it, that technique almost always works on his siblings!!! Once Mum puts the onus on them to ask for details about something they really want, they usually back down.

Turns out, they were planning on putting the stereo into a garage sale, and were only going to be asking $25 for it. His birthday is coming up in just over two weeks- I do believe I see an antique stereo in my future.

But I digress. As helpful as they were, Old House Revival didn't have the backplate I needed. They did remind me, however, that brass is fairly maleable, and I might be able to straighten out the kink without it breaking ...

Onwards.

A few days later, I went over to see the lovely ladies at Vintage Veruca. They were extremely busy, getting ready for their own garage sale, but they were no less helpful than the folks at OHR.

Funnily enough, once they had confirmed that they did not, in fact, have a backplate to match mine (I had since put the darned thing into my bag), one of the ladies told me she used to work at OHR, and they were likely the best place to check for backplates ...

She also affirmed what the folks at OHR had said about being able to straighten out the kink in my existing backplate. In addition, she told me I could strip the paint off the backplate by placing it in extremely hot (read: boiling!) water for ten to fifteen minutes and then peel or scrape it off.



You can probably see where this is going ...



Yup. I did. First of all, I managed to straighten out the kink in the backplate enough to make it once more functional.

Secondly ... well, how about I show you some photos?

Then, after removing all six thousand** layers of paint from the two backplates, just for kicks, I decided to polish them.

(** this may be a slight exaggeration)

 Note the presence of my "assistant" in this endeavour, quite literally placing her mark.

At this point, I might as well restore the other two plates, too- after all, it's a straightforward and simple project, right? ;-)

"simple" re-use project goes outta control ...

** Edit: Story update at bottom!**

Heh. If you know me at all, the subject line should come as NO surprise :-P

First, a little backstory;

Back when we first started dating, Himself showed me a small canvas bag (very like one of those "World Famous" shoulder bags). The bag was worn, and had definitely seen a lot of use- a younger version of Himself had even scrawled his name on it in black ink (it's faded, but you can still read it).

He told me the bag had belonged to his grandfather, who had served during WWII.

Before I fell ill two weeks ago, I came across the bag in our bedroom- lying on top of the waste bin. I picked it up, figuring that it landed there unintentionally- there was a new stain on it, and it smelled pretty rank, so I decided to wash it. Given the age of the bag, I opted to launder it by hand to prevent it from getting too damaged by the machine ...

Turns out, Himself had, in fact, thrown it out on purpose, thinking the bag was beyond saving (between the stain, the smell and a missing buckle), so I decided I would fix the bag up and let our Littlest Man use it for school; he needed a bag for school anyhow, and wanted a messenger bag- I figured, under the circumstances, this was close enough.
Needless to say, once the Littlest Man learned to whom the bag once belonged, he was all over the idea of using it himself- so we went to a fabric store to seek out replacement strapping and a buckle.

Who knew this would become        A Project.


We found something that would work for the strapping material, but surprisingly, not so much a buckle (I wasn't even hoping to match the buckle exactly, just wanted something comparable). The woman I dealt with suggested I check out Werier's.

Now this is about where I became severely incapacitated by a fever and subsequent bronchitis (ooh, and laryngitis, what fun!), which rather hampered my search for a buckle ...

A friend suggested I try Tandy Leather for the buckle, and I was out and about at the time, so I did.

No buckle, but I did find a few other interesting things ... onward and upward!

By this point, Himself was getting into the action- we went to Werier's (which is like stepping back through time, btw, but that is another post). We picked up a few buckles which were really not at all like the one still on the bag, but would do in a pinch (we picked up two so as to have the option of matching buckles).

We also came across another bag, obviously military issue, same fabric (same buckles!). It was smaller than our bag- we guessed it was, perhaps, designed to hold a canteen. It was a dark green in colour (our bag is a faded khaki/tan colour). It was in unbelievable shape; looked brand-new, in fact. The gentleman at the counter only wanted $5 for it, so we ended up buying it (with no certain plans for its use- kind of crazy, I know, but it Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time).

Next stop was to Imagine Games & Hobbies (they are also home to HM Surplus, which specializes in military gear, old and new). We figured if nothing else, they would be able to point us in the direction of a place we might find a buckle ... What they did have was bins full of strapping (which I learned is called "webbing" in military parlance). Here we picked up two more buckles, modern, plastic ones, that we thought could be an alternate alternate (er, does that even make sense?). We also got some green webbing that we thought might work for a strap for the new bag (which was missing its shoulder strap).

But still, no buckle comparable to the one we have on the bag ... Imagine was definitely able to point us in the direction of another place which might have the buckle we were seeking.

Fast forward two days, and we are back on the hunt once more for a buckle- this time, we were headed to Marway Militaria, the shop we learned of from our friends at Imagine.

Success at last! We not only found a buckle we could use (not identical, but a close match, as I had hoped to find), we also found a shoulder strap for the green bag and a spare shoulder strap (er, sorry, "webbing") for the bag that started this all ...

And we found the bag. Not our bag, of course, but one virtually identical to it, complete with the gas mask it was designed to hold. This was the major difference, as this other bag had dividers sewn into it to hold the respirator in place. The price tag? $125 (again, this included the gas mask- a bargain at twice the price if you're into that sort of thing).

We also found a bag identical to our new, green bag, and discovered that it was not, in fact, a canteen holder, but rather, designed to house a mess kit!

We also learned how the two bags would have been connected to each other via some other webbing we'd come across in our travels ...

So, finally, after two plus weeks of searching (and researching, what the hey?!), we had all the pieces to fix the bag up- all that remained was for me to find the time to sit down and, you know, sew it.


I am happy to report; Mission Accomplished. 

Photos to follow, if the Littlest Man will part with the bag long enough for me to photograph it :-P


How does all of this relate to the theme of love?

First of all, this project has definitely been a labour of love; a multi-generational bag, carefully restored, not to "like-new" condition, but certainly serviceable condition, and pressed back into service.

Secondly, recycling/up-cycling is part of loving our planet ...

**Thirdly, the bag once belonged to my husband's maternal grandfather, IE, my Mother-in-Law's father. My strong desire to reuse the bag rather than throw it away came from a need to try and keep her memory alive.**

It's especially been fun to watch Himself as he really got into the search- doing google searches on military gear, trying to figure out the serial number stamped on the inside of the bag, learning about how the various pieces of webbing work to connect several pieces together ...

Who'd have thought being too cheap to buy a new bag would become a history lesson?
Heh.


Always learning means always growing. What a wonderful way to live life.

**Update to the story (2012-04-12): My Father-In-Law was over yesterday and I showed him the bag, and told him the saga above. He was able to offer new insight and a correction to the origins of the bag. It is, in fact, from WWII, but it was *his* bag, not his father-in-law's. He used it as a book bag in high school, and told me how he used to hang it on a telephone pole when he was heading in to his after school job at a butchershop in Manitou (where he went to school at the time). He'd come out after work and collect the bag, it was always there waiting for him. Prior to it being in his posession, he further told me, the bag had belonged to his cousin, who had served in the war ...

So, still a family bag, passed around a few more times than we'd realised. Boo is no less impressed.