It is mid April, and there seems to be no signs of intelligent life anywhere. Forget intelligent life: there seems to be no signs of any life anywhere. April Fool’s Day was well over a week and a half ago, so I am most certainly not joking when I report it is April 11th, and I am home with a snow day. In April.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT a drill[1].
In the words of Michael Scott…
But how? Was the borderline short sleeves weather of a few days ago simply all part of some elaborate hoax? I could have sworn I was sitting on the balcony with only a light jacket on earlier this week…
Living in Minnesota, I now understand why you don’t race to pack away the last of your cold gear before Easter[2]. Roads are shellacked with a lovely combination of water, ice, and snow, and over 495 schools in the Twin Cities are closed today. Winter ain’t over until the fat lady[3] sings! So “bring ‘em out! Bring ‘em out!” (The winter coats, that is.)
To combat these deleterious effects, we must employ some self defense mechanism that deters negativity and buoys us straight to spring[5]. We have to believe in “[cerulean] Blue Skies.”
Blue skies smiling at me.
Nothing but blue skies do I see.
Nothing but blue skies.
Cam and I strive to adopt this mentality to various facets of life, but we find particular joy stumbling across things or situations that appear ordinary, putting our heads together, and unearthing new, extraordinary potential. Shortly after we moved last August, we trolled local antique shops for additional furniture pieces that would provide function and add character to our apartment. Our favorite find was a white repurposed end table from Mama’s Happy, a local shop that finds tired, worn pieces and upcycles them to take on a very Fixer Upper-like design. While we thought the table was already charming, we wanted to do something hands-on that would add our own flavor and add a little pizazz to our space.
After multiple ideas, our project slowly began to take form, and we decided to use wood as our added material of choice. Local wood, that is. In fact, the wood we used for this project was so local that Cam and I literally crossed the street and spent one afternoon collecting errant sticks and logs around Medicine Lake in order to turn our vision into reality. We made a game of who could snatch the best finds and couldn’t help laughing at ourselves at the absurdity of trolling around the lake with a bag of sticks in hand. Once we collected our materials, we set to work[6] slowly chipping away at our logs to procure tiny round discs we could use to populate a piece of plywood we would insert under the table’s glass surface. This work was taxing[7] and took various attempts and added excursions for additional supplies, but we bonded over the joint effort required of our task and had fun throughout the process. We couldn’t have been more pleased with our end product, and the experience left us itching for additional opportunities to create.
Perhaps it was only a matter of time, then, until we stumbled upon Empty the Nest. Empty the Nest isn’t so much a local thrift store as it is an ingenious business model that helps elderly families clean out their homes and then sells the furniture, hardware, and other various items for deal-finders to stumble upon and transform into new treasures. ETN has certainly cultivated a loyal following. Shoppers can find incredible antique items for a steal, and this constant search for untapped potential keeps customers returning time and time again. Indeed, the store is only open three days a week (Saturday, Sunday, Monday), and when the doors open Saturday at 10:00AM, you better bet there’s a line that extends far out the door!
Because you never know what you’re going to find at Empty the Nest, casually strolling through the shop has quickly become one of our favorite weekend pastimes. Cam and I love the “thrill of the hunt” that comes with the untapped possibility of stumbling across something old, weathered, and left-behind and transforming it into something new, refreshed, and full of life.
A few of our favorite ETN “treasures” include a modest stack of antique books, darling delicate trays I now use to corral errant items, a couple of old Coca Cola crates—I’m particularly drawn to them because of their tie to Minneapolis-St. Paul— that would make Joanna Gaines foam at the mouth with excitement, and our steal of a deal entry way table. Similar to our coffee table adventures, we have plans to “flip” and refurbish this table[8] but are waiting for the weather to be a tad more accommodating to outdoor projects. That doesn’t stop our creative planning and scheming, however, and I cannot wait for the day we can open the windows, air out our apartment, and watch our vision come to life!
The beautiful part about “blue skies” is that you don’t have to wait for literal blue skies in order to embody this optimistic outlook; rather, some good, old-fashioned hard work and a healthy dose of positivity will do the trick! The secret is to see the blue skies—the silver lining, if you will—in all things, even if they look a little dull[9] around the edges.
So set those summer to-do lists, think warm weather thoughts, and keep the faith that “cerulean” blue skies will soon be here to stay.
[1] And this is NOT February. Although my sense of deja vu is really starting to heighten…
[2] For some reason I have Easter in my mind as this magical cutoff date where it can no longer be cold. It can’t snow after Easter, right? Right?
[3] Is this poor lady truly “fat,” or is she so sequestered in layers upon layers of down jackets that she slowly begins to fade into oblivion? I’m sure Ralphie’s younger brother Randy from A Christmas Story would know the feeling.
[4] I mean indoors. Oh heck, potato-potato.
[5] The real spring, that is. I don’t want any more of pseudo-spring-but-really-still-winter’s insidious lies.
[6] Or, rather, Cam set to work. I—notoriously the antithesis of everything dainty—am not to be trusted with a saw…
[7] Cam, you’re my handyman hero!
[8] Look out! I see a future blog post in your future!
[9] Or snow-covered…
Comments are closed.