My artistic license is at stake.

Dear “Anonymous”-

When I was employed as a writer and my husband was still a touring musician, I felt the freedom to be weird. I wore weird clothes, I listened to weird music, and I decorated my house with my weird style.

Sure, I received some flack from the “normals”, but I was surrounded by more weirdos than normals.

Biceps and I were often hired by others to build out of the ordinary things, due to the fact that our artistic license accompanied our meticulous building skillz. Case in point, an artist hired us to build her this pretty, but functional shed that we deemed the “Big Girl Playhouse“.

I’ve been proud of the unorthodox things that I have built. I realize that not everyone is a weirdo like me and won’t like my style. That’s cool. I can handle it.

But, as a blogger, I am critiqued for my artistic license way more than the average bear. I try to take it all in stride. Heck, I understand why someone on the west coast doesn’t appreciate my deer hoof coat rack. They’re worried about their patchouli and plugs. I track with why Mr. Modern Guy may not like my barn wood dining room table. I understand it’s all chrome and glass for you. And sure, purple master bedrooms may not be your thing. I know you have a hankering for realtor beige. It’s cool.

I’m not normal, so my stuff isn’t normal. I get it. I friggin’ get it.

When I build something that’s for me, and I take the time to photograph each step, edit those photographs, write out an informative tutorial on exactly how to do it, how much it costs, where to buy the material…why is it ok for the internet kingdom to rip me a new one and tell me how ugly/stupid/dumb my project was?

Not to be creepy, but I know who you are: I know your IP address, where you logged in from, how you found my blog, what city you live in, what pages of mine you visited and for how long.

So, even if you are wussy enough to call yourself “anonymous”, you aren’t. Just let me be a weirdo over here in my little world. And, I’ll allow you the same.

Love-Weirdo Rebekah

It is Finished!-The Big Girl Playhouse

For the past month, Biceps and I have been slaving away in the lovely Okie summer heat, building a ‘shed’
for some friends of ours.
Today, we completed the shed, packed up our tools, said goodbye to the dogs and headed home.
It was satisfying to complete the project, but also a little sad.

If you have ever completed a chapter in your life and had to walk away from it, I am sure you know what I mean.
I won’t miss the sweaty days, the sore muscles, the dog poop I have stepped in on countless occasions…but I will miss seeing my friends on a daily basis and becoming so close that I don’t knock anymore.

This is where I left you in week one. We had dug the holes and sunk the posts into the earth three feet deep. Then we had added the stringers, the headers and the beams.
Then we applied Arnica gel for several days and complained to each other about our sore bodies.

Week two we had built the rafters and put on the roof.
I hung from the rafters on several occasions pretending to be a monkey. The heat does strange things to me….

By the end of week three we had installed the windows and finished the roof. We began siding the ‘shed’ with 6” cedar planks. In between late nights of Hubby playing out with his band, the extreme Tulsa heat and my general ditziness, the cedar took way too long to install by my standards.

But today, it was all worth it. The ‘shed’ was finished. I cracked open a can of orange Diet Rite to commemorate the occasion.

The windows have to be my favorite part. Except when you are trying to nail something precariously close to said window and the nail happens to break said windows’ glass.

This view is from inside of the ‘shed’ looking out. It feels so dang good to be in here. Now that I know my friends gate code, I may just throw up a hammock and set up camp when they are out of town.

These doors were from a church in Tulsa. They felt rather blessed while we were hanging them, although Biceps did say ‘crap’ a few times while we were doing this….

I am rather curious if our friends will actually move their tools in here, or decide the space is better suited for fancy dinner parties.

Goodbye, dear ‘shed’. Know that I love you. And although I poured out my life, sweat and tears into you for the last month, know that I am happy you are done and that I can move on.
The Big Girl Playhouse has been deemed ‘completed’. Amen.
If you would like to read more about The Big Girl Playhouse, here’s Part One, Part Two and Part Three.

The Big Girl Playhouse-Part Three

The last couple of weeks, Biceps and I have been building a fancy schmancy ‘shed’ for some good friends of ours that we have begun calling ‘The Big Girl Playhouse’.
The picture below is where I left you in Part Two.
(If you would like to read from the beginning, here’s Part One.)

The roof is up, the stringers are on and our backs are sore.
And throughout the entire process, we have been tormented by the ridiculously cute dogs the homeowners own.
Or is it the other way around?

The next step in building the Big Girl Playhouse was to install the windows and nail up the siding.
We found eight diamond pattern windows at a recycled materials store and snatched them up.

Ohhh! Pretty blue paint. Rebekah likey. The windows were transformed with this lovely shade of blue.

Our army of blue windows were ready for action.

The Big Girl Playhouse front is almost entirely made of glass.

We found cedar siding at another recycled materials store in a quaint little town outside of Tulsa. And the best part was that we found it for a third of what the big box stores wanted to charge us.
Boo yeah.

Once the cedar siding was up, not only did the shed look stinkin’ awesome, it smelled stinkin’ awesome.
Much, much better than we did.

Close your eyes and pretend you are somewhere deep in the Colorado forest. Place your nose near your computer screen and…take a big whiff-I bet you can smell the cedar.
Or maybe not. I think the 96 degree weather is warping my brain.
Next step-we’ll be installing the doors and finishing the rest of the siding.
Stay tuned and pray for my sanity…

Doggie Trouble

A ruckus erupted below Biceps and I, as I steadied myself on my perpetually sinking ladder.
The Big Girl Playhouse had become the Doggie Battleground.

To say these two are ornery is an understatement. Notice the holes they have dug in our perfectly leveled earth? Tisk, tisk.

But one cannot stay the least bit angry at a mug like this.

A battle began between the two furry animals with absolutely no regard to ladders or to the humans that stood upon them (me).

Chloe (blonde dog) was loosing the battle and took off for a hiding place.

Buster was confused…

…forlorn.

Chloe was smug.

Almost prideful…

The moment Buster gave up, Chloe jumped from her hiding spot, tearing through the garden and leaving us all in her dust.

Without anymore entertainment, I had no choice but to continue working. Biceps however, kept snapping away. He is quite ornery as well.
Tisk, tisk.