The Daily Fuss

Abundance

When I told my neighbor about the 800 pounds of sand I put in Lei's new sandbox he said, "Wow. You don't really do anything halfway. Do you?"

That pretty much sums it up.

Friends and family members had similar reactions to my commitment to plant twelve tomato plants this spring. "You'll have a bumper crop," said one. "I guess I don't have to shop for vegetables this summer," declared another. "I give you 'til July 'til you're sick of it," said my mother.

Umm hmm. Go big or go home, I say. No one will ever accuse me of being lazy.

I bought these plastic connector thingies from Improvements and had 2x8s cut at the Ho Depot. I wanted something that could easily be removed if I decided gardening's not my thing. They seemed rather temporary ... until I filled them with several square yards of dirt, of course.

 
They aren't my favorite-looking beds, but they're working quite well, and are slowly being covered by tasty foliage. The garden is in full swing at the moment.

 
Maybe I'm just overly impressed with myself because this is my first gardening experience, but I check my flowers, shoots, sprouts and burgeoning fruits several times each day to monitor progress.

I have twelve tomato plants total - most of which are heirloom: 2 Big Mama, 2 Italian Ice, 2 Honeybunch, 1 Black Krim, 1 Big Rainbow, 1 Supersteak, 1 Brandywine, 1 Red Lightning and 1 Tye-dye. I nearly lost them during the alternating rain/scorching heat we had early on, but they are thriving now. I divided them into three beds. The bush tomatoes are split between two beds with Fairy Tale Eggplant and several varieties of peppers: Pinot Noir, Great Stuff, Bananarama, Golden Giant, Red Delicious, Costa Rican Sweet and The Godfather.

  
 
The climbers are mixed in the root and leaf beds where I have Kaleidoscope Carrots and Sweet Kohlrabi (that I accidentally planted in the same row - ugh), Bull’s Blood Beets, Bright Lights Swiss Chard, as well as Red, Green and Yellow Flying Saucer lettuces, and summer-Long Leaf lettuces.

  
I also have Spacesaver and Lemon Cucumbers surrounding the beds on two sides and Summer Squash on a third. I planted Mara Des Bois Strawberries in two planters temporarily and I still need to figure out what the heck to do with those for the next two years.

 
I have beans and peas in hanging baskets - although it's soon to be just beans since the peas can't take the heat. I will launch those again this fall.

 
I have several Basils, marigolds and Sweet Alyssum tucked beneath the tomatoes and peppers and have started a round of fall herbs including, Fennel, Chocolate Mint, Thyme and Boxwood Basil.

 

  
I'm having a lovely time so far - most likely because I haven't had to pick much of anything yet. If all goes according to plan, I will have more food than I know what to do with. I might even need to get into canning to avoiding wasting any of my yield.

Another project you say? Yes. That's exactly what I need.

Optimization: Meal Planning

I am a process person. I gravitate toward maximizing efficiency, systematic approaches and organization in general. I wrote about this after Leighton was born clearly with more energy than I have now and continue to seek out methods for optimizing the management of our happy little home.

It is readily apparent to me that disorganization costs money. If I misplace something I need, then I have to buy it again. If the magazine subscription lapses, then it costs triple on the newsstand. If I forget to get gas before going into the city, then it costs me an extra few bucks to get home. Every time I lose the radio key to Leighton's school, they charge me twenty dollars. When the house is a mess, things get lost or broken and need to be replaced. This list is ostensibly endless.

Food is a HUGE offender. If I don't have food on hand in the morning for dinner that night, I might just order in or buy the super-expensive prepared foods at the deli. If I don't have time to take inventory and make a decent grocery list, then I wind up with moldy bread and ten extra rotten bananas a week later. If I don't have Leighton's snacks stocked at home, then she eats overpriced crap at the zoo, or store or museum or music class or wherever we are. If we're out of coffee, then Starbucks gets incredibly lucky. You get the picture.

We have managed this to some degree with meal planning while sticking to a budget. However, it was much easier when we ordered from Peapod - you can order late at night, the food is delivered and you can manage your lists with ease. However, we now live up the street from a wonderful grocery store (minus the Lulu Lemon contingent) and Peapod comes less frequently to this new house. So, I routinely forget to place my Peapod order and need to run to Sunset foods with increasing regularity.

As a way to combat this mental foolishness, I have devised a better meal planning system that will work for me, as well as Ryan, my parents, a nanny or anyone else that steps in to help us with a new baby coming. The cornerstone of my optimized meal plan (index cards) is as old-fashioned as it is reliable and I can't wait to put it to the test starting monday.

The current and soon to be outdated system is as follows:

Breakfasts, lunches and snacks are based off of an aggregate of weekly items - milk, juice, eggs, bread, chicken sausage, fruits veggies, mish-mash, crackers, lunch meat, cheese, yogurt etc. that we know we need - reduced to a weekly shopping list on yet another spread sheet.

We also have twenty one dinner meals planned and rotate seven for any given week. The ingredients and shopping list are included in the spread sheet and once we pick our seven, we shop off of said spread sheet.

This plan worked great when we were able to better manage our grocery shopping. It's just not working so well now that we make several trips each week and often run out to pick up dinner fixings at the last minute.

The solution ... index cards.

I will print the weekly shopping list for breakfasts, lunches and snacks and make sure we're stocked every sunday with those staples. That list will live on the fancy schmancy wall organizer in the kitchen, right next to the white board that holds the "All Out Of" check list for unexpected items.

 
I will reduce each dinner to an index card with the meal on one side and the shopping list of ingredients on the other.  That way, if we need to run out for a meal or two at a time, very little thought or lead time is required. These cards will also reside in the organizer for ease in grabbing them on the way to the store.

This has to work. Otherwise, it's back to the drawing board. We'll see how it goes and I'll keep you posted along the way.

Over the next three weeks, I'll decide whether my index card system flies or flops. I'm happy to share twenty-one days of meals with you, as well. In the interim, please feel free to post any tips or tricks you have for managing the ongoing task of feeding your family. 

Deconstruction

I vaguely remember, at some point in the process of buying this most recent home, turning to Ryan and stating very matter-of-factly, "The best part about this house is that we don't need to do anything to it before we move in."

Hi me. Have you met me?

I absolutely meant what I said on that particular day. The house was cute enough for now, and I had absolutely no desire to live through another renovation process at this juncture. (Check out our 2008 condo rehab. Password is chicagocondo).

At closing in April, we decided that the size and condition of the house called for a major renovation in 5-7 years. We figured that giving the house a minor face lift now would help us avoid temptation to overhaul prematurely.

Shortly thereafter, we started tearing shit up in our 1925 Georgian colonial gem.

I should have realized at the outset that I'm particularly fussy. I like things a certain way - So does Ryan. And, if we agree on anything at all, we agree on spending money. A "budget" is the total amount we've spent on getting something just the way we want it. A "budget" is a moving target.

We gutted the entire kitchen - junked the appliances and sold the cabinets. The floor was a challenge - covered in chunky tile awkwardly affixed to cement board, glued to ceramic tile over linoleum that was stuck to the original hardwood. It was ridiculous.

We also removed the damaged hardwood on the first floor, demolished the banisters and upstairs built ins. Tore out trim and mouldings that didn't match and basically pulled out every piece of DIY nightmare the three previous owners had proudly installed. It's almost as if, over time, each of the three tried harder and harder to turn this Georgian into a beadboard-clad beach house.

In the interest of taking this house back to 1925 and achieving legitimate colonial revival style - symmetry, built ins, simple paneling and moulding, wrought iron and brass - we need to finish the construction efforts by procuring hardware and lighting true to the house. Hence, moving target on the budget front.

I'm not exactly sure why or how we assumed that "sprucing up" our new little house was going to be a simple endeavor. Maybe because we know how to do most of the work with our own hands, it seems easier than it actually is. Maybe we pushed memories of the condo reno to the deep recesses of our brains. Maybe we are insane.

Insanity aside, I have fond memories of rehabbing the condo. We were weary masters of demo. We laid hardwood and nailed trim. We painted. We installed floor and wall travertine, marble and subway tile. We grouted like champions. We ate from a coleman cooler and brushed our teeth in the tub for the sixteen weeks before our wedding. We fell asleep to the DIY network every night.

Good times. [sigh]

Good times are here again, but this time with the help of a master carpenter and an incredibly tenatious family member. I'm more balanced now that the deconstruction is over. The last few weeks have been insane. Last time we attempted such a feat, we didn't have a toddler.

We need to have the condo ready for renters by July 30 and I anticipate a meltdown or two before then. Hopefully, I'm more realistic about what I can handle as that day approaches. If not, I'm sure I will let you know all about it.

Has anyone else dared endeavor to do something similarly crazy? Please post a comment and share your fuss with us.

Loser Wardrobe Challenge Part II

In Loser Wardrobe Challenge Part I I layed out a plan to clean out my closet and generate fundage for a brand new wardrobe. The specifics - here's the plan as I listed it back in August: 

Step 1 - Clean out closets and make eBay pile. Oh how I do love eBay. Step 2 - Stop eating. Just kidding. Hit the gym. Step 3 - List my eBay goodies. Step 4 - Enlist the help of my cousins-stylists, choose stores and make hair appointments. Step 5 - Makeover/Shopping day is November 7th.

Here's the progress: 1 - Closets are clean and eBay piles are everywhere. 2 - I have stopped eating and hit the gym with my fists as I walk past it. 3 - Have listed 50 of the roughly 100 items I vowed to purge. 4 - I am focusing on Anthropologie and J Crew for chain stores and boutique shopping to round out the new look. I desperately need a new Burberry trench, but really can't justify that much of a splurge at the moment. 5 - February 17th is the new November 7th.

It feels good already, but I won't be realizing the vast expanse of space in my closet until I start shipping my precious belongings next week.

It's funny how tied to "stuff" we can be. I've had this closet, jam packed with gorgeous things that don't fit, staring at me every day since I became pregnant in July 2008. I have touched about ten items since that time and my closet is petrified into a museum of who I once was.

As I piled, photographed and listed each of these things I could remember when I bought it, why I wanted it, what I planned to do with it and how I looked at the time. I couldn't trust my intial desire to hold on to each. Is it more cost-effective to keep it? Am I really ever going to wear it again? Do I even like it? I had to make a rule that it was all going to go and stick to my guns.

It's addictive - the urge to purge. I'm less than two days into this closet-emptying exercise and I already feel lighter. Now, if I can just keep from filling it back up again.

It's a new year. Are you in the mood to clean house and start the year fresh? Post to comments and share your fuss with us!

What the Fuss? Tiny Prints

I can't help myself. I am so pleased with my holiday cards this year, I just must share.

One thing you must know about me is that I prefer to make everything myself. I laid our hardwood floors and tiled our bathrooms with my bare hands. To better understand why, read this. I can play musical instruments. I'm a jeweler. I even made my own ridiculously intricate wedding invitations. To peruse the broader spectrum of projects that amuse me read this.

Given that backdrop, please try to imagine how difficult it was for me to pull the trigger on holiday cards from Tiny Prints. However, I absolutely do not have time to cut, print, mount, punch and fold 100 holiday cards. So, I decided to have them printed.

Actually, I didn't have time last year either, and I bought these William Arthur cards. With personalization, my order came to $325. They were elegant and lovely, but my goal was to spend considerably less this year.

We've received several friends' baby announcements, holiday cards and party invitations from Tiny Prints - all adorable - so I decided to give it a shot. Lei and Lue sat for me last week as I took a thousand photos. I uploaded some choice shots to the Tiny Prints site, chose a layout and got after it. I checked out Minted.com as well, but felt that Tiny Prints had far better choices for layouts.

I had the most festive card created within twenty minutes. I love it! Lei is laughing her ass off in a Santa hat. Lue, on the other hand, is looking rather glum.

Admittedly, these cards are not free, but they are professionally printed on quality card stock and look exactly like my proof.

For 100 cards and matching envelopes, I paid $189. Worth every penny in my opinion.

For those of you who like the super-cute, one-page, photo cards that you can get at the pharmacy or grocery store, Tiny Prints has those too for as low as $0.69 with over 200 layouts and styles from which to choose.

In the interest of full disclosure, the cards were delivered last week and I loved them so much that I joined the Tiny Prints program and placed an ad on my blog. Save up to 20% on any order by using the code CYBERSALE. Enjoy!

This product review conforms to the Fuss Formula.

Do you send holiday cards, or just skip it? What do you do with cards you receive? Please post a comment and share your fuss with us.

What the Fuss? Family Photographs

Let's face it, your friends may be flickr savvy, but chances are good that Grandma Suzie and Uncle Charlie are not inclined to sign up for various online photo-sharing services just because they own a PC - no matter how badly you want them to see your shots of last week's trip to the shore. Shutterfly offers a happy medium with Shutterfly Share.

Within a few minutes, you can create a slick little website, upload pictures, video and other info and send it off to friends and family who can access your masterpiece without ever even having to join Shutterfly. Amazing.

Users do have the option to create a Shutterfly profile and become "members" of your site, but I skipped sending my people that piece of the invitation. I knew my family wouldn't want to join and my friends probably can't handle another online community website.

If you take even half as many pictures of your squad as I do, then this site beats the heck out of lugging a huge photo album to the family picnic.

Another way to avoid the giant album problem is to create a photo book on Shutterfly or a similar site. I would have tried Shutterfly, but Walgreens.com had a deal (half off the everyday albums).  So I went with it in the interest of frugality, and then promptly went nuts with the number of pages, but we'll get to that in a second. In the end, I realized that if I had used Shutterfly to create my photo book, I could have loaded the digital version to my Shutterfly Share Site. Ahh hindsight.

As for the Walgreens photo book, I cannot complain. The interface is cool and user-friendly. There are a decent number of design options for page design based on the number of photos you want on each page and whether you wish to include any text.

I made an 8x11 book for Leighton, commemorating her first three months on the planet, and narrated in such a way that I believe she will want me to read it to her until the pages disintegrate. I made the same book for the grandparents, but in a smaller size that would fit in a purse. It was a smashing success with the grandmas.

With Shutterfly, you can take an existing book and convert it to a different size. If you can also perform that task with the Walgreens interface, I could'nt figure out how and it wasn't for lack of trying. I had to recreate the smaller book from scratch and it ticked me off. My book was an even 48 pages. Ahh hindsight.

Prices start at $9.99 for the Everyday album and $29.99 for the 8x11, custom cover version.  Those prices include a limited number of pages and there is a per-page once the threshold is reached. My 48-page, custom volume was $57.85. The Everyday version of the same book was $17.00 with a half-off coupon code. All of it, including my nearly $60 book was worth it, in the end. It's great quality and shipped the next day. I'm already one month into stockpiling photos for Vol. 2 - Leighton Elizabeth Months 3-6.

This product review conforms to the Fuss Formula.