The upcycling bug strikes again!

Well, it happened again!
 Last week, I came down with a awful dose that kept me under the radar for a good few days. Luckily a trip to the doctors wasn't necessary as I know from the symptoms, what my diagnosis was; the upcycling bug had struck again! (Click here to see how I caught the bug 2 months ago!)

This time I had one thing and one thing only on my mind. A bare space in our hallway had been annoying Neat freak Lucy for a few months. As a total bookworm, it didn't take long to envisage  a bookcase in its place. Measurements were taken and Adverts.ie and DoneDeal were scoured without much luck.

So what's a gal to do?! *sigh*

But then the D.I.Y gods looked down on me and sent me the leftovers of an old broken pine bed frame! Destined for the skip, a previous Pinterest ramble had given me an idea. My boyfriend and his dad were recruited and the remnants were made into a bookcase for me on a rainy Saturday afternoon!

(Since I have no woodwork skills AT ALL - I was on coffee duty for the day!)


The next day, work began!

After sourcing my leftover supplies from my last fit of upcycling, I cleaned the newly constructed bookcase with a damp cloth and after it had dried, I gave the wood a once over with some gritty sandpaper. The wood had no paint or varnish on it and I was going to use chalk paint on it (which works on most surfaces even plastic, fabric and glass) but I figured sanding would do no harm! I still had loads of Annie Sloan grey chalk paint left over from my last few projects so after a little water was added I began painting!

It took two coats of chalk paint (leaving to dry between each coat) to cover the bookcase completely and thoroughly.

Once the 2nd coat was completely dry, I discovered my stencil that I planned to use had feckin' gone missing! After ransacking my apartment, I admitted defeat in the search and got onto Google instead. I found an simple design that would be easy for an upcycling novice like me to print and cut out onto cardboard but my boyfriend helped out and did the honours for me.

Something I learnt from past experience in upcycling is that stencilling ain't as easy as it looks so, armed with a sponge and a small tester paint pot (Ivory Chalk - Woodies DIY paint €1.89), I banished my other half from the kitchen and set to work on it!

 Once you conquer a stencil (and use Pinterest to much!), its really easy to go mad with it and cover the piece your doing with stencilling. I attempted this on the last shelving unit I did for my bedroom and the results were dodgy to say the least and looked nothing at all like the 'easy' designs I had pinned the week before so this time I was more careful.

Then it was varnish time baby! I chose varnish to seal the paint as chalk paint is porous (so it absorbs dust and dirt in the air) so sealing it was necessary. Opening every window in the kitchen (the stuff is seriously strong smelling with fumes), I applied a thin layer of varnish and left to dry overnight.

Drumroll please.....

What do you think?

Now comes the really fun part for me - filling it with books!

Forever in the Sky,

Lucy x

My 'Ewww' Dictionary

I was always under the impression that hate is a strong word. Hating something is an idea that's thrown around a lot by people in a not to serious way -

• I hate Mondays
• I hate the rain
• I hate the singing chef in the Vodafone ad on TV

The truth is (with the possible exception of the Vodafone advert!), I don't hate anything - I just really really dislike some things. 

A research group recently compiled a list of words that women hate. This list had particular interest for me simply because I write and read a lot so I was curious to see what the results would be. The list consisted of 6 words that were the most despised by the fairer sex:

1. Moist
2. Squirt
3. Panties
4. Chunky
5. Curd
6. Flap

'Moist' seems to a constant chart topper for these types of polls. It won unanimously with 77% of ladies voting it the most hateful word in the English dictionary. 

via thegloss.com

Now, don't get me wrong here, some of these words are horrible to hear and ignite gross images; but I think likes and dislikes are a pretty personal thing.

For example, I deeply dislike the word 'Crisp'.

I can already imagine confused looks on faces as this is being read, so let me explain further.

I actually love crisps as a food. Tayto, Walkers, Pringles - I love 'em all. However the word 'crisp' used to describe something, sends shivers down my spine.

'A crisp Autumn's Day'

'A crisp white shirt'

'Burnt to a crisp'

 Now, honestly I would love to attribute a valid reasoning to this but I have no idea where my aversion to this word started. I didn't even realise I had a problem with it until a few years ago when I began to encounter it more and more online. Each time, without fail, I found myself frowning. I can't explain it at all!

'Fab!' is another word that can get on my nerves. On the outside, there's nothing to be annoyed about with this word at all. It's a positive and uplifting three little letters abbreviated from the word 'Fabulous' and it's used to describe something pleasing to the eye. I'm aware that by blasting this cheery little word, I run the risk of being labelled a cranky cow but, in my opinion, 'Fab' is an extremely overused word nowadays so much so that it's lost it's uniqueness. While well intended, reading 'it's fab!' and 'looks fab!' comments online always seems to conjure an unfortunate image in my mind, similar to this:

And lastly, amongst curse words, there are many people get offended by. The whole idea of a curse word is to be offensive or shocking but in the modern world, a lot of people have become desensitised to them. I'm one of these people. Curse words don't really bother me too much when they are used in banter and without malice. Irish comedy is known for this style of language with 'feck' thrown into routines regularly (or in every single bloody sentence Mrs. Brown) and it's a common occurrence in casual conversations in our little country. 

While I say, I'm relaxed about curse words - there is one that I'm deeply uncomfortable reading let alone saying. 

'The C word' 

Charlotte from Sex and the City had pretty much the same approach to these four little letters as I do.

via cosmopolitan.com

I never know how to respond when somebody uses this word in a conversation. No matter the content or humour intended in its use; the result is always the same for me. I just tend to not say anything in response while looking (and feeling) a bit awkward. In a free adult world, I don't like to judge anybody who does use it because everybody has a different view of things (which is an awesome thing!) It just happens that something inn my brain won't let me use this word. I feel silly at times but, when I absolutely have to use it, all I can manage to refer to it as 'See u next Tuesday'. Completely juvenile and silly but it's the only way I feel comfortable using it.

I'm sure everybody has different additions to their own list of words and I hope I haven't caused offense to anyone in the words I've chosen to add to mine and the reasoning behind each one.

What would yours be?

Forever in the Sky,

Lucy 

High Heels, No Chance!

Jimmy. Christian, Kurt. Manolo; They're all a sound bunch of lads I'm sure but unfortunately my appreciation ends there.

Girly milestones are part of growing up. They can be big or little things that start you on a path to becoming who you are. As a kid, I was a bit of a tomboy and when it came to those awkward early teenage years, I looked to my big sister, TV and magazines for guidance. 

One thing I learned early in my fashion education was the importance of high heels.

via pinterest

Junior disco's back in the day never really required towering heels so it wasn't until I was 17 that I felt the requirement to wear them on a night out. Not because I really wanted to, but because that's what I thought was expected of me and like any teenager; I duly followed. 

Slipping on a pair of black heels stolen from my sister's wardrobe was the ultimate feeling of being grown up and it felt amazing. 

Approximately 5 seconds after that, reality set in: I couldn't walk 10 steps in the bloody things.

At that very moment, my legendary stubbornness kicked in. I would not be defeated by a pair of shoes! Surely it'd only take practice?! Everybody is crap at things when they first start out but eventually they master it and goddammit I was going to be no exception!!

But no matter how stubborn and determined I was, I just couldn't get the hang of heels. My balance is pretty shite as it is (little fact: wonky ears can often mean wonky legs!), 3 years passed in a haze of stumbling like a little drunk Bambi on nights out with friends before my high heel destiny was changed forever. I broke my foot on an unfortunate (but sadly normal) Friday 13th.

Anybody who breaks a bone knows that once it has been broken - it rarely ever feels the same again, even with the proper rehabilitation. I had never broken a bone before so when I was told I wouldn't need any physio afterwards I was delighted! Turns out, physio would have probably helped get me back on track in my high heels mission. To this day, my left foot is less flexible than my right on and I pretty much can't wiggle the toes on that foot. 

Add bogus balance to a wonky foot and the dream of heels evaporated pretty quickly!

I felt fairly frustrated for a long time after that because as a gal who likes fashion and clothes, heels are perceived as the finishing touch of glamour to most outfits. But then something kinda miraculous happened:

I simply stopped giving a shit about it.

What happened that caused this epiphany? It was watching my friends. Turns out that even if you have the natural balance and ability to walk in heels, it's still really frickin' painful to most ladies. I would see my friends all totter out on a Saturday night only to search for a seat in the pub and switch to flats once the nightclub was reached. While I sympathised with them, this ritual completely confused me. Surely it would just be easier to wear pretty flats out from the beginning of the night to save all the hassle (including lugging around your heels in your massive handbag)? 

Maybe it's lifelong jealousy or maybe it's the realisation that, at 29, I've gotten old enough and wise enough to focus on more important stuff.

And even though me & heels just aren't meant to be, thanks to fashion trends and designer gods above:

via Tradesy.com

I can still dream! *sigh*

Forever in the Sky (and in flats!),

Lucy x

Kicking Negativity's Arse

I sat down today after a bit of a stressful week and I was ready to have a moan. You all know the feeling (which is almost irresistible at the moment!) but I'm going to try and say NO to it (in some colourful language!)

Oftentimes it's so easy to focus on the negatives. For some reason it seems to take more strength to be positive about senarios than it is to be negative. And growing up in a country where moaning is a national pastime - means by the age of 29, I've gotten pretty bloody good at it! 

I came across this piece of advice from blogger Miss Erika Fox of Retro Flame on my Facebook feed yesterday:

via Retro-Flame

As I sat rain soaked and grumpy on a packed train, I realised I am all too guilty of this addiction. And it needs to stop. So today, I'm focusing on the good stuff.

My view this morning

I think waking up to this sight isn't a thing to be grumpy about! It's a beautiful (and dry!) day so far and if it rains, it's not really the end of the world! Fact is, I live in Ireland and that's just the way things are here. Truthfully, if it was too sunny/cold/wet or even dry - I'd probably find something that annoyed me about it. But right now, I'm drinking tea and doing a little blogging so I'm a happy Lucy!

Speaking of which...

My morning began with tea. That in itself makes me grateful as some mornings my love for my leaba means rushing out the door without a cup of the nectar of the Gods. Inevitably this results in the days events being all the more stressful. I'm an addict so to get my caffeine fix to start my day makes me an altogether less volatile Lucy!

€4 lighter and 1000% happier!

I've been on a shopping ban for much of this year. This is probably a main cause of my crankiness as it's my therapy. Seriously. Even when I have had the weight of the world on my shoulders; shopping helps me deal with it all. Anybody that knows me wasn't surprised to learn that upon finding out I was going to lose my hearing - I cleared my bank account and went shopping. 

So on a rainy day in Dublin yesterday, a broke Lucy wandered into Penneys and hit the motherload. As a seasoned shopper, I've frequented Mary's Street often but yesterday the retail gods were smiling on me. A clearance rail with everything marked €1 and lots of stuff in my size definitely makes for a much more relaxed Lucy!

A trip to the Bingo with my gals, my lovely mammy's birthday and a cuddle from the two cutest little dudes in Cavan lies ahead for me today. 

So in all fairness, that alone kicks any negative thoughts in the arse!

Forever in the Sky,

Lucy x

 

Duvet Day, She Wrote...

I think it's fair to say the current crap weather has called for at least one duvet day the past week! July has been typically Irish and typically wet, putting a big damp NO on any outdoor plans. This can be beyond frustrating but sometimes it can also be a blessing in disguise as you can rediscover the lost art of 'The Duvet Day'. 

I think the ingredients for a successful DD (Duvet Day!) really depends on the person. The basic ingredients are generally the couch, your pj's and, well, a duvet! But after that, it's up to you! Some choose to read books, others prefer to online shop and then there's the boxset DD! I think I'm a mixture of all three (along with copious amounts of tea and biscuits), but when the opportunity arrives; I'm also partial to a trip to the crime capital of the world Cabot Cove!

I was in college when I discovered the brilliance of 'Murder She Wrote'. Back in the days that Netflix wasn't the student staple it is now, a lazy hungover afternoon meant whatever was on Sky. I love me a good murder mystery so my discovery of the Queen of Whodunnit, J.B. Fletcher, made Murder She Wrote essential viewing for me. 

In a perfect world, I wouldn't have to explain the brilliance of J.B. Fletcher to you. You would already appreciate the amazing (albeit fictitious) woman behind 'The Corpse Danced At Midnight'. But, alas, the world is not fair and there are many people who do not understand or appreciate her awesome crime solving skills. But my appreciation was instant.

Even the opening titles spoke to me on a not-so subconscious level...!

Set in a small town called Cabot Cove in Maine, J.B. Fletcher is already a legend when we first meet her. She's basically like the J.K. Rowling of murder mystery and everybody that crosses her path is obsessed with her books. It's clear from early on that, along with gushy fans, murder loves her like a fat kid loves cake. With each episode that passes, another Cabot Cove alumni meets a grisly end and the whole town (even the Police Department) turns to Jessica to find the killer. This fact says A LOT about Jessica's awesomeness (and maybe the crap American Justice System?!)

via Showbizgeek.com

Once this happens, us loyal viewers follow Jessica's quirky methods of detection and the adventure begins. Don't forget, this is old school sleuthing and C.S.I is nowhere to be seen - but J.B. don't need no fancy schmancy gadgets to find the killer; just some clever disguises and auld fashioned snooping!

via pinterest

Comedy, near misses and award winning sleuthing followed and Jessica would ALWAYS find the culprit leaving everybody impressed and in awe (apart from the killer obviously!) of her detective skills, 

The show followed this tried and tested plot line throughout and after awhile, only by logic, the population of Cabot Cove took a serious dip with a resident or 5 being killed every episode but as Jessica was a famous writer, she took a lot of trips. Unfortunately murder followed her.

So it's not really surprising that the theory by viewers that Jessica was, in fact, the worlds biggest serial killer and used her fame to pin each of her murders on someone else. Given that there were 264 episodes made and at least 1 victim each episode - that is equally dark (and sort of impressive!) 

Via Redbubble

Whatever your theory, there's no denying the brilliance of J.B. Even if you're not totally obsessed with an episode storyline, there's always the love triangle between Jessica, Seth Hazlitt and Amos Tupper to keep you gripped. 

via fanpop

Yep sexual tension ain't just for young folk!


 

264 episodes is a hell of a Duvet Day but on reaching the end of your visit to Cabot Cove, if you're still on a Jessica high you can always click below & find out

How would you die in Cabot Cove?

This was my result - I'm sure Mylo's gonna be delighted with my vast and impressive Penny's wardrobe.

Forever in the (rainy!) Sky,

Lucy x

Why I refuse to kill a mockingbird

We're all born the same but I think it's what happens to us during our lifetime that shapes who we become. Certain experiences and ideas stay with us and influence our approach to things.

I left school 11 years ago. 

School is such a big part of life - the idea of  13 or 14 years spent learning a curriculum set by our peers has always seemed strange to me but I enjoyed school. I was a pretty average student and English was my favourite subject.

I've always loved reading. There's something about a good read that can take your imagination to other worlds like nothing else can. There are no rules; except for me - it's got to be on paper. Reading Kindles & IBooks just isn't the same! Even when I was a little kid, my favourite part of the summer holidays was the prospect of endless trips to the library and the mass of books I could read during the vast weeks of free time ahead of me. I remember vividly being giddy when the MS Readathon was held every year and trying to beat my record each year. The Babysitter's Club, Goosebumps and Horrible Histories were some of my favourites.

Teenage years brought different reading tastes but when I was 15, a book came into my life that, to this day, I still re-read. For my Junior Cert, we studied To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

via imgur

I'd never heard of the book before but we were told by our teacher it was a 'classic' so I looking forward to seeing what the fuss was about. We did readings in every class and characters were assigned to a few people to keep everybody's attention from waning. It felt like a play which I loved as I always did Speech & Drama growing up. The character of Scout (whose real name was Jean-Louise) was assigned to me for the simple fact that my name was Louise.  Easy casting logic but I was delighted!
Growing up in Cavan in 2003 was a far cry from Alabama in the 1930's (where the book is set) but I quickly fell in love with the characters. A young girl's view of the world that goes from her imagination and innocent quest to meet the town's mysterious Boo Radley to watching the adults around her embroiled in a moral debate on racism, tolerance all the while trying to find her place in the world.

To Kill A Mockingbird won a Pulitzer Prize and broke publishing records when it was released 55 years ago. It was the only book ever published by Harper Lee much to the annoyance of some readers.

However last year, the announcement that a sequel was 'discovered' and a release date set. Immediately I was dubious. Soon enough stories emerged that only raised my concerns that this new book was the result of Miss Lee being taken advantage of in her elderly age and poor health. I couldn't help thinking of her as the quintessential Mockingbird in this scenario. That thought alone made the decision for me. I wasn't going to read Go Set A Watchman - ever.

I've read mixed reviews since it was released last week along with the news that Atticus Finch, the hero of Mockingbird, was now racist. Although I can't deny I'm curious, the love for Mockingbird stops me from purchasing a copy. The fact being, I'm not willing to let my curiosity jeopardise my love for the original characters from Mockingbird. I learn something new every time I read it at different points in my life but most of all I learnt at 15 years of age;

It's a sin to kill a mockingbird.

Forever in the Sky

Lucy x

My BFF Ms. Hobbs

Oh Carrie! So quirky! So funny! So lovable!
It's been over 10 years since she strutted her stuff in Manolo Blahnicks on our T.V. screens and the women of the world fell in love. A teenage Lucy was amongst the legion of Carrie fans and to put it simply; I wanted to be her. Or at least be her BFF. When the T.V. series ended, I was pretty brokenhearted. But then an announcement of a film came! Delighted and giddy are two words that mildly describe how I felt upon hearing this news and in preparation for the movie's release, a now adult Lucy unearthed her SATC boxset and cleared her weekend.
By that Monday I discovered many things (like Mr. Big's name was John?!) including:

1) I could consume a ridiculous amount of Galaxy chocolate
2) I needed to go shopping IMMEDIATELY
3) And I had to break up with Carrie.

Back in the day, it's fair to say every viewer had their favourite character. Charlotte was sweet and pretty, Samantha was strong and sexy and Miranda was straight talking and ballsy. But Carrie was the leader and was funny, intelligent and stylish so her character was always the most popular when the choice was made. Teenage Lucy agreed wholeheartedly. But now, Grown Up Lucy has a new BFF - Miranda.

In my opinion, Miranda always got a raw deal.  From the start of the first series, it was clear that Carrie was the Queen. Samantha and Charlotte were next in line as the Princesses and Miranda was the outsider. She wasn't as classically pretty as the others, a bit awkward and not overly stylish. Teenage Lucy definitely didn't rate her much. But upon my re-watching of the show in adulthood, I learned quickly that my BFF Carrie was stylish and funny; she was also a good bit whiny and pretty annoying (I started to realise this when she repeated the line 'I couldn't help but wonder...' for the 50th fuppin' time)

On the other end, there was Miranda. I always thought she was a bit 'blah'. Grand. But not as sexy as Samantha, beautiful as Charlotte and stylish as Carrie.

Adult Lucy discovered that actually Miranda Hobbs is a total legend!

She's honest
She can seem be harsh but her honesty comes from a good place.

She has insecure moments
Everyone feels insecure at times and Miranda is no exception which makes her truly likeable and endearing.

She's unapologetic
She is who she is, likes what she likes and doesn't apologise for it.

She knows what's important
Example: Wifi and phone battery are very important but so is her marriage and she sacrifices her comforts for that.

She's does things HER way

She does things her own way. Her pregnancy (KFC at the baby shower) and wedding (Dark maroon dress in a community garden) are where she shines and each are uniquely and completely Miranda.

Frankly, it's frustrating that such an awesome character gets ignored in the way Miranda does. To be honest if I hadn't of re-watched the series from an older prospective, I probably wouldn't have made the realisation of the pure brilliance of Ms. Miranda Hobbs. And just for that fact, makes me eternally thankful to the odjiously awful films that followed!

Forever in the Sky,

Lucy x