Author Archives: zefiart

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About zefiart

Blogger, DIY-er, poodle lover, graphic designer, dog groomer, recycler, artist, wonder woman in my spare time.

the woodshed gets a makeover

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Ever since we moved into Wind Dancer Farm, I’ve itched to do something about the eyesore which was our woodshed.

Note the lovely heavy duty shadecloth gift wrapping… Very pretty. Not.

Ok. Its just a woodshed.

But I had a dream.

I dreamed of a pretty woodshed.

Something rustic, made from old weathered timber, with signs hanging on it and a yellow climbing rose growing up it.

Ok. The rose will have to wait. That will take a few years to grow up up the woodshed.

If indeed climbing roses are frost and strong wind tolerant.

Anyway, back to the point…

I’ve been itching to give the shed a makeover. It was clad in that dreary shadecloth. And we had piles of old timber lying in the back paddock, rotting away.

Wayne pointed out that we had to use that timber soon or it would be beyond using. At which point I jumped at the chance to bring up my plans to redo the woodshed. Again.

Note: Previously, every time I brought up the ‘woodshed makeover’ plan I got eye rolling.

Bring up using old timber which needs to be used or burned to clean up the paddock, and suddenly Wayne is making plans… Turns out I was just going about it the wrong way all this time!

Over our break (this week we’re on holidays from work) we were going to make over the woodshed!

Yeah!

It seemed like an easy plan.

It would have been if we agreed on the basics of how to go about doing it.

My idea: rip off the shadecloth (so we can see what’s under it), put in extra support bits to nail the timber cladding to, and go from there.

His idea: lay the timber straight over the top of the shadecloth cause he didn’t want to go to the trouble of removing it and cause it would involve moving firewood.

Of course I won.

Mainly cause I said I’d do the removing on my own, as well as moving any firewood needed to do the job.

We started on Sunday morning. Or should I say, I started on Sunday morning.

I spent what seemed like 52 hours (and was probably only 2) removing the shadecloth. I still have scratches, scrapes and a slice just above one of my nails thanks to the shadecloth…**

The heavy duty,  metal infused shadecloth which medieval armour was make of.

Then I put on gloves.

By the end I could only reach 3 sides of the shed as there was firewood piled high against the 3rd side.

In the afternoon we drove the ute out to the paddock and loaded it up with timber. Brought it close the woodshed. Brought out the power tools and got to work.

We did a bit of arguing about what would go where and in the end we compromised.

i.e. I won.

We discovered my circular saw is stuffed. It works fine for a while, then jams and kicks back. No idea what’s going on. We decided it wasn’t worth the risk, so brought out the drop saw. Sensible.

We worked till late on Sunday afternoon and got the supports in and finished one side.

We had sore muscles where we didn’t know we had muscles afterwards. Ouch.

Monday, after a few errands in New Norfolk, we got back to work. This time Wayne cut the timber to size in the paddock using his chainsaw.

Easier.

Sometimes he has good ideas.

It was quick and easy. All we needed to do was nail up the boards. That meant me carrying them over and Wayne nailing them on.

We got one more side finished and the 3rd wall almost finished till the rain chased us indoors.

Of course, it wasn’t without some stuff-ups. This wall below for instance. This was the result of the following conversation:

“Should I get the level?”

“No. We don’t need a level.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Its just s shed. I want it rustic.”

OOPS.

Tuesday we both looked at it and agreed. We had to rip those boards off and redo that section.

After we fixed the crooked bits, I tackled the shadecloth again. Wayne was really worried that the wood would get wet if it rained, cause the slats don’t fit perfectly.

Hmph.

So, in order to not hear “I told you so” next winter, I said I’d take care of it. I measured and cut the shadecloth, then clambered over the ever shifting pile of wood, legs spread-eagled, slipping and sliding, to nail it all up.

(Note: nail tacks in the back pocket isn’t a good idea if you end up on your butt.)

Then came the fun part. Moving the pile of wood from the outside of the shed to the inside. See it there? under the sagging roofline?


 I cut a hole in the remaining shadecloth and picked up and tossed every single piece of wood into the shed.

My back!

But in the end I had a clean and tidy outside, under cover (more or less) area.

The plan is this: we’ll need to redo the roof on that outside area. Then new wood that needs chopping will be staked there. Wayne does the chopping in our driveway right now, but with this area cleaned out now, he can chop on the grassy bit to the left of the shed where there’s room to swing an axe. He wanted to keep the door (I was all for closing in that whole side), so he’ll be putting an old shed door I brought from my old home on there tomorrow. The side that opens to the undercover area will get made into a large door so chopped wood can get tossed in.

All in all, its going well. I plan to do some more work to the exterior, make a sign for it… stay tuned.

Unfortunately,  I’ve managed to mangle my middle and ring fingers on my left hand. Typing is Really hard with one hand and 1 finger… Its like type, type, backspace, backspace…

How? Well, we took a load of trash to the tip this morning and somehow I managed to jam my fingers in the ute door. YOUCH!

There I was, fingers jammed, swearing up a storm (a couple of men nearby blushed) and trying to pull them free. Took me a few seconds to realise I could open the door with my other hand. I swear, if I’d been in water, I’d have drowned.

**The shadecloth cut is now gone. Sliced off with a bit of my nail bed. Nice.

Nothing broken at least, I had an xray and had a tetanus shot (ouchies). I opted to get the shot in the same arm. Why spread the pain?

So here I am. feeling sorry for myself.

At least I can’t do dishes!

z

rusty coathanger heart

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While digging around for scrap barnwood in the pile in the back paddock, I found 3 rusty old coat hangers.
I loved them so much I’ve planted a few new ones out there for next year.
 I bent the coat hangers into hearts (cause what else would you do with them?) and hung them off the curtain rod in the living room for a while. Let them mature, you know…
I made my heart welcome wreath out of one of them.
Which left 2 hearts waiting for their purpose and forever home.
One of the hearts is a bit too rusty (and weak) to hang things from… that will go somewhere later, when I find the right spot for it.
This heart has become a suncatcher, with different coloured prisms and other misc objects for a bit of sparkle and shine.
Just whimsical enough I think.
z

dragonflies & crystal

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 I saw some wire and bead dragonflies on Pinterest a few weeks ago and since then I’ve gone dragonfly crazy. I’ve been making them at work for clients, and at home, well… just because I can.

There’s something so cute about them.

A few weeks ago I found this silver dish thingy at an op shop. I have no idea what the technical name might be, but originally this thing held a small glass or crystal bowl. Without the bowl, this poor little silver thingy just looked sad.

Till I added dangly things to it and made it into something special!

I used some more of the antique cutlery (I got a load of the stuff so it will feature in a few projects). They make a great musical sound when they clink together.

I added 2 dragonflies and a small bumble bee (you can see him peeking out between the spoon handles).

I used crackle glass beads and the large crystal in the middle for a bit of sparkle and light reflection.

So the sad little silver thingy is sad no more!

z

what to do with old horse shoes

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Ok, so its not a problem most people have. But when you have horses (and have friends with horses) there’s no shortage of old, rusty, horse shoes.
This small training shoe found its way into my ‘miscellaneous’ box and was just sitting there, staring at me, asking to be used for something.

Last week I went into the little local cafe where I’ve been placing items to sell and found that all my suncatchers, chimes, dangles had sold! 
I had to make more.
Since I make these things out of materials on hand, each one is different. I’ll post each of the last ones I made in separate posts to keep things simple.
This particular one is made out of an old horse shoe (obviously), antique cutlery, old keys and aurora borealis beads. Plus an old clockface decoration. That was a last minute addition which just worked.
I just love the colours of rust on the horse shoe. I know where I can get a ton of these. Might need to find more things to make with them.
Suggestions welcome! 🙂

z

Linking up to Homespun Happenings’ Rustic Restoration Weekend.
Homespun Happenings

the kitchen plan…

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As you know, I’m dreaming of a kitchen rennovation. From the day I saw this house, I’ve been planning a kitchen rennovation. 
I’ve measured and drawn plans using Adobe Illustrator – picking up and moving little boxes labelled ‘fridge’ and ‘table’, hitting delete when I considered removing a wall… 
I’ve been doing this regularly, about once every few months. I have a folder of kitchen plan variations to rival the Rocky film saga. However, I think I’ve finally found a plan which works for me and the space.
Now the issue moves from designing to actually doing. And doing involves money, time, money, materials, money… you get the picture.
A friend of mine shared her advice – I laughed my butt off. It was so good I thought I’d share it with you.
Kitchen Plan Version 46 – Implementation
This is where the “take your time, save and stock up ahead of time” scenario works best. You’ve measured, remeasured and measured again. You have ordered the cabinets over time and have quite the stack, with probably a couple of extras that you forgot you already bought or figured you could use in the grooming room after the kitchen is done. You’ve loaded up on plumbing bits when you’ve found them on sale. You’ve got a stack of timber waiting to line the walls. Your new light fixtures are back from being rewired and you’ve finished painting them. You got lucky and someone gave you the exact sink you had been dreaming of and you found a gorgeous faucet on clearance just a couple of months ago and had to have it. Your knobs and pulls aren’t here yet but that’s okay. You’ll do those yourself later on. And wonder of wonders, you got hold of the ideal window to replace the small one that makes you nuts! The new stove is sitting in the casita, waiting beside it’s giant range hood. All is ready.

So, day one, demolition. So is day two because you had to stop and clear out the rubble. And measure and assess, discuss and cuss, measure again and everyone agrees on where to stop on the wall that’s going down. Day three, you have a moment of panic when you see all the holes and exposed studs, and one of the dogs walked off with a board full of nails and you had to chase him down and check to see if he had any punctures in his stupid head. Wayne just tripped and scraped the entire side of his head and you think he should see a doctor because his ear doesn’t look like it’s attached.

Day four, you’re back in business and the rest of the demo is done. You, being a Zefi, are cleaning and cleaning and then cleaning a little more. And having a small panic but you work it off with cleaning.

Day five, the electrician comes by (two days late but that worked out, didn’t it?)  and you show him where he needs to reroute wiring and get things ready for the next time he comes out. The plumber pulls in just as the electrician is leaving and you’ve got to show him his part and convince him that what he says is impossible really isn’t. You’re paying and he should just do it, dammit.

The carpenter hasn’t arrived yet and he was supposed to have been here this morning. You’re pissed.

You’re so pissed, you start opening up the packages and put together the first of the cabinets. And realize that you can do this.

Day six, you’re wiped out because you spent the entire night building cabinets and you’re frustrated because you have to go groom 4 dogs and you don’t have the time to get Wayne to help you haul the cabinets in and put them in place temporarily so you can work out the configuration in your mind.

Day seven, Chris has arrived to help because you called him 17 times and threatened his “gentleman’s sausage” (thanks, John Heald! LOL). Between you, the cabinets get hauled into the house and you send the men away so you can start shifting things around and trying this or that layout. Wayne is talking about having you committed because you HAD figured it out and now you’re re-figuring? He and Chris rush to the pub because you threw a handful of cash at them, tied around rocks to make sure they get the hint.

They skulk into the house in the wee hours of the morning, fearful that you’re still in there, moving stuff around.

Day 8, you ply the boys with aspirin for their hangover and insist they eat a big, greasy breakfast because you have a cunning plan and they’re needed to execute it. You grumble for the next 5 hours because they grabbed their plates and disappeared into the brush. They took all four dogs because they’re not animals and they were worried about bloodshed.

They return in the evening and you’re waiting…with tool belts ready to go. Their punishment for sneaking away is to line the walls with the timber you have spent all day measuring and cutting. Their choice is to do what you tell them or sing soprano for the rest of their lives.

Day 9 is more of the same – finishing the walls, working on the ceiling. Doing what they’re told because even though they ARE men and of suspect intelligence, they’re not totally stupid and they like their deep, manly voices.

Day 10, the plumber shows up and you shove the guys out of the way and with speed and superhuman strength, fling cabinets into their proper places so the sink is where it needs to be for the plumbing to be done. Because word is out in the area, the electrician shows up and is able to install all the wiring and lighting, puts the stove and hood in place with the help of the frightened plumber who would rather be escaping out the door but you’re standing right there and in minutes, the entire electrical job is complete. You allow the workmen to escape only after trying everything out. Because you pity them a little, you fix them a snack for the road on your new stove. They speed off the property, still chewing, as you’re rinsing the dishes and stacking them in the new dishwasher.

The carpenter still hasn’t shown up but you get a surprise phone call from him, begging you not to kill him and promising to be on site at 7am the following day.

Day 11, the carpenter and several very nervous helpers arrive and after you show him what is left for him to do, which isn’t much because you’ve gotten the walls and ceilings taken care of, but you do really want those gorgeous wooden countertops ready to use, please…and faster than you can formulate a thought, your kitchen is finished except the painting, and wonder of wonders, the nervous helpers are all holding brushes and rollers and asking you to please tell them which color so they can finish and be released into the wild soon. They weren’t hired to paint but they’ll do anything to get done and get out of there. You’re scary.

Day 12, the nervous helpers arrive again and you’re confused but they run past you with fear in their eyes and various strange machines in hand, and suddenly you’re hearing the sound of floor sanders as your exposed wood floors that needed a little attention are getting refinished unexpectedly  for you. Because you really ARE that scary.

Early on day 13, Wayne and Chris return from somewhere, scruffy, thinner, smelling of outdoors and unbathed armpits, followed by remarkably unsoiled dogs (because they washed and cleaned them up overnight in the grooming room while you were sleeping peacefully in the house – fear will do that…) and you’re so happy with your new kitchen, you fix them breakfast and don’t complain when their funk gets too heavy – you simply turn on your aircraft sucking range hood to pull the funk out of the kitchen. And look at that! You still have 9 days left of your holiday to decorate and start planning your next big project.

And in Hobart, several men shuddered and crossed themselves…and they aren’t even Catholic.

patchwork

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Yesterday afternoon we got home and did the usual feeding of animals routine. While I fed Ben I looked over at the old dog kennel I moved over to the dam for the ducks to use. Of course they never used it. And one day I found 15 chook eggs in it.
I decided it was time to check it again since Wayne hadn’t been… This time I found 19 eggs!
Being I had no idea how long they’d been there, I brought them in and dunked them in water to see if they floated. They all sank. Good.
But 5 of them were a blue-ish colour. And our hens lay white, cream and brown eggs. No blue.
Duck eggs.
Great.
Wayne said I should take them back out and put them back in the nest. He said the only sure-fire way to get the duck to accept them was to find some duck poop and rub them in it.
So I went out, muttering to myself, and walked around the dam twice looking for duck poop. I found some and was rubbing them in when Wayne came out to the porch and called “Make sure you find fresh poop, not old dry poop.”.
Groan. I couldn’t find any fresh poop!
After watching me for a while, Wayne said I might as well just put them in the nest. He’d made up that bit about the poop!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
meanwhile….
Last weekend was a write off as far as projects went. About the only thing I managed to do was patch up these incredibly annoying ‘holes’ in the kitchen.
See, we have a plain, standard (narrow) 500cm upright stove.
I dislike it intensely.
The gap it sits in is almost 700cm. That means gaps on either side of the stove. Different sized gaps. Gaps big enough to lose spoons, knives, pots and pans down. And food scraps, potato peels, sauce.

Wayne does most of the cooking… It was filthy down there.

When I dropped a spoon down there last week it was the last straw.
Since I can’t afford a new stove (let alone a new kitchen), I decided it was time I did something to forestall my impulse to get the sledgehammer…
I took one of the cabinet doors I removed a couple of weeks ago …

…and cut strips to fit the gaps, then used tiny brackets to fix them in place.

Not perfect (and please ignore the grime rings – I hadn’t planned on doing a photo shoot when I started the job). I have since painted the ends white so they don’t look quite so odd. Like thin white strips don’t look odd enough – with the Grand Canyon below them …

At least I got something done.

I’ll leave you with some photos of old projects I found while searching for some artwork. When I first moved to Tasmania I’d made a series of Tasmanian tiger objects which I sold through a local shop. Here are a couple of the coat racks made from old barn wood, images painted with gouache and finished with varnish.

z


day in the bush

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Wayne loved his manly wallet for Father’s Day. But I think what he loved most about his day was the walk up the back.
He packed up the “billy” and tea, biscuits etc, I packed the firelighters, and we got into blue and drove up to the picnic spot we saw when we inspected the farm before buying it. Its one of Wayne’s favourite places on the property.
Here is blue parked in the clearing.
Wayne set up the chairs and dug a fire pit. The man lives for the great outdoors.
 
He has this funky tripod thing for hanging the billy over the fire, old rusty metal. I love rusty metal.
 
The fire was a bit smokey. Guess things hadn’t really dried out even though we’d have a few gorgeous, warm, sunny days. If you look closely you can see Wayne hiding behind the smoke.
 Here’s me waiting for my tea.
 And the view around us.
You’ll never guess who this chair belongs to… I painted poodles on the back of my camp chairs so that I’d know which ones were mine when I was a dog show.
Here’s the rarest of native animals: the Tasmanian Barniferos.  Spoilt rotten dog. He’s the only one who got to come with us cause he’s the only one that can be trusted to stay close. (He really is the best dog!)
It was  a great day. We even managed to find the top boundary of our property. We’d never been up that far before.
Its important to take the time off to just enjoy. Its too easy to get caught up in all the things we ‘have to do’ and forget to just sit back and appreciate what we have.
I’m totally guilty of that. I’m working on it.
z

the week that dragged me down

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Its been an interesting week.
How many things can go wrong in one week do you think?
Lets see… I could have a broken stove at my house in Fentonbury. I could have a broken pipe at my house in Fentonbury… I could lose my car keys, car parked right in the gateway in the driveway so no way to get out using the ute to pick up poor long suffering Wayne, waiting at McDonalds. It could take me 40 minutes to locate my keys (behind the mudroom door) in the dark, in the yard, in the grooming room, in the carport, in the horse feed room. Even IN the horse feed. Then to top off a great week, we could have training at work today. All day. 
There’s a Saturday I won’t get back.
Sigh.
I’m so very very tired. Last night I went to bed at 8.30pm.   
Ok. Its not all bad.
Training was actually fun. I love that stuff… looking at deadly spiders (in jars of course) and my first blue ringed octopus, learning how to treat bites, what to do when someone’s guts are hanging out, or they have an axe embedded in their head. 
Those things are handy to know.
Then afterwards, on the way home I stopped in at The Good Guys (electrical store) armed with a print-out of the cooktop I need for Fentonbury at the cheapest price I could find it online. They matched the price and are ordering it in for me.
See, of course the house in Fentonbury would have a cooktop of an unusual size and shape. No choices. Only one model to be found anywhere.
And tonight I called our wonderful plumber and begged him to travel about 2 hours from where he lives to go see the problem in Fentonbury and fix it. He’s going to go up next week and call me with a plan of action.
Fingers crossed we won’t be eating baked beans for the next few months.
While there, I fell in love with a stove for my kitchen here … ah. Dream on.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. This year I gave the dogs some money and sent them shopping with strict instructions to a buy non-edible gift so we wouldn’t have a repeat of last year’s stuff up.*
I just wrapped it for them  – they don’t have opposing thumbs and find gift wrapping a bit difficult. (But they can drive into town on their own and buy Dad a wallet! uhuh!)

Hope he likes his new wallet. Its a manly cowboy brown leather one. With a manly brand name “Colorado”. Nice.

They actually had a brand called Fossil… NOT a good idea, I thought. That could so easily be taken the wrong way….

z

* Here’s a photo of last year’s Father’s Day gift.

a little scattered…

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This weekend, while doing all the casita sorting, I also did some computer cleaning. That meant copying a ton of files off the hard drive and onto an external drive. I’d bought that drive a long time ago as a place to back up files in case this computer up and died on me suddenly.
Over the last year or so, I’ve only used it for backups – old work and photos mainly. This weekend I decided that since its always connected, I may as well move all my work, photos, projects and website files there. Leaving more space for this poor old computer to stretch its tiny brain.
That was successful, so I thought I’d delete fonts I dont need, want or use as well… not my best idea to date…
While moving photos I found a few I’d like to share… well… just because.
This is a drumcase I used as a bedside table for many years.
My brother is a drummer/percussionist, so I was used to having drum cases of all sizes around the house. In fact, Peter always had drum cases as coffee tables, side tables, you name it, it was probably a drum case.
So, when I moved to Melbourne as a student and needed furniture, I grabbed the first couple of drum cases I saw for my own bedroom. They’re great for holding blankets or off-season clothes inside while they hold a lamp and alarm clock on top.
This particular one was too black for the bedroom once I decided to go country and more girly, so I painted it. 
Isn’t paint the answer to almost any question?
Then there’s the Christmas presents from last year. I usually like to do something special with my wrapping, but this time I got lazy and used bought wrapping paper. But instead of putting gift tags on the presents, I made wire initials. Then they could keep their own initial as well.
What do you do with all those small 1st, 2nd and 3rd place ribbons you get when you show dogs? I had a million of them. (Mostly 1sts of course! LOL)
One thing I did was make a trolley cover by stitching a heap of them together like a quilt. 
A trolley is a dog crate on wheels, sort of. We use them a lot here in Australia at dog shows. They have a flat non-slip top so you can groom on top of them, put your dog(s) inside to keep them safe, and you can fill them with stuff when going to and from your car. Amazing invention.
After the cover, I still had a heap left over so I made a wreath for my door. The colours make it an almost perfect Christmas wreath. I added a big gold bow with bells, and voila.
A pretty jingly welcome to our home at Christmas.
z

lost socks

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This is a little project which took months to finish. Why? Cause halfway through I hated it and stopped working on it.

It started out as an offcut of pine from the shelves I made for the office. Never let bits of wood go to waste if they ‘might come in handy one day’, right?

I used the steel wool in vinegar method to age the wood, then gave it a bit of a sand to soften it. I tried transferring the type to the sign but that was a bit of a failure. I had to fix it up using a sharpie, but thats ok.

That’s when I took my first break. I didn’t like the type. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then it just didn’t do it for me. I let the sign sit in the office for weeks before I thought I’d try putting an image on it… socks of course. I couldn’t find many socks pictures I liked so I settled for this one. Looking at it now, I’d probably have done it differently, but hey. Its done now. I just glued the cut out images to the sign and gave it all a coat of clear varnish.

Then I hot glued weathered wooden pegs to it.

At that point I gave it a bit more of a rest. Longer this time.

On the weekend, in my manic ‘do something about the casita’ mood, I finally tackled the sign. It was time. It had a home to go to and I couldn’t put it off any more.


I got DJ to tie some more of his cute knots to it for hanging. I really do like rope on signs. I then added a bit of twine along the pegs to make it look like a clothes line.
Of course, big ol’ mens work socks (or even less big ladies sports socks) aren’t cute for a photo, so here it is with some teeny cute baby socks.
Another little piece comes together in the laundry room…
z