Making Folk Art Flowers

Inside: Looking for a craft project that is fun and easy with materials you likely have on hand already? Try making our folk art flowers. From start to finish, you’ll have these adorable beauties in only a few short hours. 

Making folk art flowers.
Aren’t they cute? Our folk art flowers are fun and easy to make! Photo courtesy of Emily Moore.

Have you ever started out heading in one direction only to end up somewhere else entirely? That is what happened to us when we set out to make folk art flowers. I had in mind a burlap sunflower I’d found on Pinterest, and while that particular crafter used dollar store sunflowers for a pattern and reapplied the brown center on the burlap petals, I had decided large brown buttons would be cute. So I drew the petals freehand onto a paper, cut out the pattern, traced it on the burlap, and cut it out. . . Yuck! The only burlap I had on hand had a large weave, so it didn’t work well.

That’s where the somewhere else entirely part comes in. After scouring the pages of Pinterest–we search for hours and hours (and hours) so you don’t have to!–I found some flowers without instructions. But I had a pretty good idea how they were made, just from the picture, so off we went.

Note: For a simple set of instructions, go to my updated post here.

The Attempt

We assembled the following:

  • Two mason jar screw bands with lids, regular mouth (no need for new when old will do)
  • Strips of material, (Hubs’ old plaid shirts) approximately 40 1 inch by 6 inches and 70 1/2 inch by 6 inches
  • Two pieces of burlap, 5 inches by 12 inches
  • Four cotton balls
  • Twine string or thread (type doesn’t matter)
  • Two sticks
  • Hot glue gun and sticks

We looked through a pile of old shirts and chose our colors. Light green and darker green.

We were ready.

The Execution

We sat down and got to work. At first I cut the strips longer, but Mom suggested they’d look better shorter. While I had my doubts, she trimmed the pieces she’d already attached, and her crafter instincts where right on the money. Then she suggested cutting them down even farther. Again, right.

So I started cutting the strips to the new length, into 1-inch by 6-inch pieces. I’ve made rag wreaths before, and this is the same principle. When working with plaid shirts, it’s easy to figure out within the shirt pattern how far to cut—for example, let’s say every other blue line in the design is an inch. You simply follow those particular lines to cut your strips.

Mom continued taking the shirt strips and tied them onto the screw band so the ends were about equal and with the knot on the side of the band (where you place your fingers when unscrewing it from a jar). Engrossed in conversation, soon the ring was almost covered with the tied strips. She pushed those strips together to make room for more, making a tight design, until it was entirely covered.

Then the fun part. How to make the center of the flower. First we gently pushed the lid (the flat) into the back of the screw band nearly half way, with the glue side facing the back, shiny part facing front (not that you end up seeing it). The shiny part of the lid served as a guide to how big we’d have to make the burlap middle. We hadn’t settled on how to plump up the middle, but then I remembered I had some cotton balls. At first we were going to do a short strip of burlap to make one layer, but we found that doubling it created the look we wanted—you couldn’t see the cotton underneath and the loose weave burlap took on a sort of sunflower-like appearance. We formed the puffy center by placing the cotton in the center and gathering the burlap together to form a lollypop. I tied a piece of twine around the ends, trimmed off the excess, and Mom flattened it some with her hand, making it to fit right over the shiny part. I wielded my trusty glue gun and put a generous amount on the lid, and she pressed the burlap center into place.

Folk art flowers
Love these! So simple to make! Photo courtesy of Emily Moore.

Looking good!

We started to repeat the same process with a light green patterned shirt, but part way in Mom said she thought the material was thicker, that maybe I could make the knots tighter. So she cut the strips, and I tied a few more, but I noticed it wasn’t working like the other one. So again that crafter instinct fired up, and she suggested we make the strip half as wide. I tried one on for size and liked the effect. I untied the thicker pieces, and she cut them in half so the dimensions for these strips were ½ inch by 6 inches. Soon that band was covered, and we formed another burlap middle for that flower.

We then made a short trip outside to cut a couple of 10-inch sticks to make the stem of the flower. (We used one of the quart jars from the previous project to figure out the length, as this would be their home once we finished them.) We snipped one slightly shorter so the flowers would fit in the jar together and not overlap too much. Once back inside, we flipped the flowers over so the back side of the screw band showed. We put a dollop of hot glue on the top edge (remember, still on the back side) of the ring and another dollop on the bottom edge. So basically the flower was glued to the stick—now magically transformed into a stem. We held them up for closer examination.

And Ann and Amy saw their creations and smiled. Yes, they were good.

The Results

Though I was initially disappointed the sunflower idea didn’t pan out, I was more than happy with the finished product. We both love these folk art flowers. They’re so simple to make, can be made in an afternoon, and they’d make a lovely gift. The wheels in my mind are already whirring, busy with thoughts of different colored materials and different applications. I even found myself thinking of some of the shirts Hubs is currently wearing, already plotting and planning their demise—the shirts, not Hubs! I think I’ll keep him around.

Are you working on any DIY projects? Tell us about it in the comments.

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Starting the Long and Sentimental Project

The folk art flowers look great in the distressed jar. Photo courtesy of Emily Moore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Totally Eclipsing, Ferry Rides, and Other News Fresh From the Farm

Inside: Catching the total eclipse, crossing the mighty Mississippi for the love of a peach, and a movie recommendation.

*This post contains affiliate links.

Totally eclipsing.
Total eclipse taken from Unger Park, Fenton, Missouri. Photo courtesy of Emily Moore.

Catching the Total Eclipse

Well the big news isn’t really news to many people, but it’s worth celebrating all the same. Like many across the nation, we stood in awe as the moon slipped between the sun and Earth. Fortunately for us, we live close to where viewing the total eclipse was possible, so around noon Hubs, Mom, and I headed to Lake St. Louis (the town Hubs grew up in). Just before we left, Emily texted there was already a “bite” out of the sun from her viewing spot in Unger Park, Fenton, so we eagerly put on our glasses to see.

We weren’t sure what to expect, as news outlets had warned people to have full tanks of gas and expect long waits in traffic. Some had estimated that millions of people would gather in the prime viewing area and cautioned folks to be prepared. Mom joked that she had a couple of Larabars and a water bottle if we got stranded. We crossed Interstate 70 and noticed no surges in traffic. Everything pretty much looked like business as usual. We drove around the lake and spotted a few merrymakers on a pontoon boat, then headed for the marina where a dozen or so people gathered. Finally we settled on Frontier Park were a small group of people had assembled. No traffic jams to speak of–just a few enthusiasts waiting and watching as the moon slowly covered the sun.

Street light come on as the eclipse draws near.
Night descends–no, wait. It’s the eclipse! Photo by Mike Moore.

It was an odd sensation as daylight gradually became, as my friend Patty described it, muted. As time for the eclipse grew close, the street lights came on in a sort of quasi twilight. Then as the moment of totality was just about to happen, a large cloud covered the spectacle. I whispered a prayer to God that we’d be able to see the wonder of His creation, and a few seconds later the clouds parted long enough to view the complete covering of the sun. It was one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen.

Rather unceremoniously we exited the park after the street lights went off. And life returned to normal again.

Except that we had just witnessed something truly incredible.

 

Watching the eclipse.
Me and Mom, stylin’ with our cool eclipse glasses. Photo by Mike Moore.

Crossing the Mighty Mississippi for the Love of a Peach

What do you do when your favorite (and only) peach tree comes down with a case of leaf curl? You do without peaches–that’s what. So while in previous years I would have spent two to three weeks picking and processing bushels of peaches and making our favorite peach recipes, this year we took a road–and boat–trip to our neighboring state and county (right across the river from us) Calhoun County, Illinois, a quaint place of rolling hills, known for its orchards. By far the easiest way to get there is to take the ferry, and because we hadn’t done a thing during our staycation–okay, Hubs rode 85 miles on the Rock Island bike trail, so I hadn’t done a thing–a trip was in order.

Pulling up to the ferry always brings back memories from our early twenties when Hubs and I would go pick up a jag of hay for the dairy herd, taking the ferry down in Winfield to cross the mighty river. That ferry no longer runs, so we take the one from St. Peters these days. As we approached, we just missed it, so we parked and watched and waited. I didn’t see any sign for pricing, but I remembered several years ago a round-trip ticket was $8. Finally the ferry returned, and we drove aboard to see the sign with prices–$15! Hello price increase! Okay, so the last time we rode was about eight or nine years ago, when I thought about it.

We decided upon Kamp’s orchard and pulled up to a Quonset shed and a friendly orange-colored lab that the lady running the stand told us belonged to the neighbors. Inside lay an assortment of garden vegetables–have those, don’t need more–and several baskets of peaches, the variety I can’t remember. A quart box of prune plums caught my eye as I told the woman how my mother-in-law had made the most wonderful plum cake when the prune plums came in season every year.

“Did you get the recipe?” she asked.

“I tried, but she wouldn’t part with it,” I said.

She half smiled, knowingly.

We snagged the basket of plums–I’d make that cake, a low carb version, anyway–and turned back to the other fruit offerings. We picked a peck of those precious peaches–don’t you just love alliteration–and paid $20 for them. Heading back to the ferry, we mused about how the traveling expense coupled with the cost of the fruit made for some very expensive peaches. On the ride back over to Missouri we stood out on deck to view another natural wonder–the Big Muddy. Gazing out at the tranquil waters of the Mississippi, a soft breeze in my face, $35 for a bunch of peaches didn’t seem too terribly much out of line.

Ferry rides.
On deck. Photo by Mike Moore.
Ferry ride, crossing the Mississippi.
Crossing the ferry back into Missouri. Photo by Mike Moore.

A Movie Recommendation

I can’t say I always get around to things in a timely manner. Case in point, watching the 2014 movie Unbroken, which is adapted from the book of the same name by Laura Hillenbrand. The movie is from the real-life story of Olympic distance runner and World War II bombardier Louis Zamperini and follows his survival from air crash to being adrift at sea to life in a Japanese prison camp. The story was difficult for me to watch in places because of the brutality, but I’m glad I saw the film. While I won’t go into specifics here, I would highly recommend it for demonstrating courage and inspiration in the face of extreme hardship. One word of caution: There is a scene with brief nudity when the prisoners are stripped naked by their first captors. (There is enough time to anticipate this and fast forward or look away. Personally I think the film could have done without it, as it was obvious they had been forced to strip, but I’m not a film maker.)

Worth noting, though not depicted in the film, is that he came to know Christ and became an evangelist and passionate believer in forgiveness. He met up with most of his former captors to reconcile (this was mentioned in the movie). Another film of his life exists, Captured by Grace, which I imagine tells the rest of the story.

As summer winds down, what have you been up to? Did you catch the eclipse? Tell us about it in the comments.

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How to Distress a Mason Jar

Inside: It’s another Ann and Amy’s DIY adventures as we tackle how to distress a mason jar. Stick with us–it’s pretty simple and you’ll love that farmhouse vibe.

How to Distress Mason Jars

DIY summer projects month here at the blog continues as we take on the ever-popular mason jar. Our family has a long history with reusing glass jars. I remember from my high school days when a boy who had been coming around to see me said with disdain in his voice, “Your family drinks out of peanut butter jars?” (Our favorite brand came in pint-sized glass jars back then.) Needless to say, he didn’t hang around long, which was fine with me. Hubs was never offended by drinking out of glass jars–p.b., mason, or otherwise. We were doing the cool thing before it was cool.

Back to the project. . .

The Attempt Chalk paint for distressing mason jars.

We assembled the following:

  • Ball mason jars: 3 regular-mouth quarts, 1 pint, and 1 decorative half-pint
  • Waverly acrylic chalk paint: Colors celery, maize, and lavender
  • Acrylic matte sealer spray
  • Small paint brushes (We used sizes 4 and 8.)
  • Sandpaper 80 grit
  • Rubbing alcohol
  • Paper towels or rags to apply rubbing alcohol
  • Scissors to cut sandpaper into smaller pieces
  • Newspaper to keep things tidy

The first thing we did was wipe down the jars with a paper towel and a little rubbing alcohol. We were going to skip this step, as I had read it on a tutorial and thought what’s the point? But the directions on the paint bottle had also listed this step when working with glass. So we did. And we laid down some newspaper, anticipating things could get a little messy.

We were ready.

 

The Execution

Then we each took a quart jar and chose our colors–Mom (Ann) picked maize and I grabbed celery–the paint, not the food. And we painted and talked, and painted and talked. Then we started in on the other jars, and I switched to lavender for the remaining quart and she stayed with the maize but applied it to the half-pint. Then we had to wait two hours between coats, so we walked up to the farm and fed the chickens–and talked some more. We finished the final coats and called it a night. (I painted the pint a few days later.)

Several days passed, and we got together again to sand (distress) the jars. My research showed varying styles of distressing. Some crafters sanded the paint off every raised edge–the words, numbers, fruit, and screw top, along with making a few random distressed spots. Other crafters took a lighter hand and did most of the raised edges and added a few spots. This is what we did. Mom noticed that it helped to wipe the sanded paint from the jars every so often. The work went pretty quickly, and before long we were happy with the sanding.

A couple of days later I continued with the project. Hauling the jars outside, I applied the first coat and gave it time to dry. A little later Mom dropped by with some hot peppers, and we sprayed several light coats, Mom adding the final.

“It smells like Christmas,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “That’s the same thing I thought.”

Who knew acrylic spray could stir up warm fuzzy feelings of Christmas?

The Results

We both were pleased with how the jars turned out. Painting and distressing the mason jars was fun and simple to do. We soon found ourselves discussing different colors and additions to the jars as well as uses for our handiwork. I plan on making more for gifts. Relatives, beware!

Are you a mason jar aficionado? Confess in the comments!

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Finding my Pace: Slowing Down to Enjoy Life

posted in: Simple Living | 6

Inside: Finding my pace and slowing down to enjoy life, like most things, takes practice. I have learned this by knowing myself better and paying attention to the rhythms of life that make me thrive. You can, too.

*This post contains affiliate links.

Finding Your Pace

I remember sitting around the long table at critique group one night, listening to one of the women. Always busy, she’d come from a rehab construction project, her blonde hair wet from a hasty shower. Always vocal, she started in about how exasperating life was in Missouri compared to the west coast where she had resided. That the pace of life in the Midwest was like a coma. I remember thinking, Yeah? Where you’re from it’s a heart attack.

Different strokes for different folks.

I know what works for me, but I didn’t always. I’d gone through much of my life feeling off, not quite right, like I always needed to hurry to keep up with other people’s expectations and preconceived notions of what was the right and wrong way to go about getting things done. I often felt overwhelmed. And, much of the time, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I went about things differently, I knew that. My brother would hurry through tasks that would take me hours compared to his minutes. Granted, the bathroom would be spotless when I was through. Not so much when it was his turn. I had (and still do have) a perfectionist tendency I carry with me regardless of whether I’m scrubbing sinks or painting a picture. I’ve learned, particularly in the last decade, to adopt a more balanced approach. For example, the printing on my shopping list no longer has to look like the script on a Hallmark card. Yes, I was that tightly wound.

But there was more to it. A few years ago, when writing down a list of goals I suddenly jotted down I would like to live life at my own pace, not someone else’s. The words surprised me. They’d come from somewhere deep inside, and I knew they had merit. With prayerful consideration, I entrusted this heart desire to God, that He would help me live this way.

And He did.

Along the way I learned a few things. After all, I still had to live in the real world with appointments and deadlines, and I had to acknowledge that other people had their own pace. If I wanted them to respect mine, I had to respect theirs. So I made a few simple adjustments.

Knowing myself.

I identified what caused me to feel hurried. That was easy–procrastination. Waiting until the last minute. But why did I procrastinate? The default answer for most people is laziness–yet another character flaw I thought I had. But upon really examining the reason, it was mostly (though not always) something else entirely. I had trouble starting a chore or a project for fear of not doing a good enough job. I didn’t feel I measured up to the task. Or the project felt completely overwhelming–how would I ever get everything done and to the high standards I set for myself? It was easier to avoid starting than push through and deal with negative feelings.

Poor planning was another reason. Because I hadn’t started the project or task, I hadn’t done the prep work. I didn’t want to think about preparing for the task because of all the negative feelings I associated with it. And on and on it went, until I faced disappointing someone–friends, teachers, parents, spouse, child. That was the catalyst to accomplishing most things.

Letting go of perfectionism.Not having to measure up.

Beyond working on feeling better about myself–reciting scriptures on who I am in Christ has worked wonders–I learned to lessen my standards for some things by prioritizing. The casserole for supper versus the novel chapter. The former is just a meal, the latter I really want to get just right. I didn’t need to do everything perfectly. Not even most things, really.

Confronting overwhelm–little by little.

A few years ago I read the book The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You by Elaine N. Aron, and I learned a lot about how I process the world. While not every situation or task overwhelms me, on a challenging morning opening up my dishwasher to unload it can have me feeling stressed. My new approach is to break down the task into small pieces. I decide to put away just the silverware, though often simply starting can carry me through to the end of the job at hand. On other days, I stop with the utensils and next time I’m in the kitchen I’ll do the plates and bowls. Before long the dishwasher is unloaded. This little by little approach works well for me for many different tasks and projects. This post, for instance, has been written over several days.

Planning ahead.

I’ve become much better at planning ahead as well as allotting more time for whatever I’m trying to accomplish. I’m still working on my skills at determining how long a project will take, so I give it my best guess and then allow even more time. For example, Mike and I need to leave for the Saturday evening service by 1:30 in the afternoon. (He is employed at church, and it’s a working day for him.) So in order for me to make sure I don’t make him late, I plan ahead. I gather my laptop bag and Kindle so that I can get work done in his office before service. I also have to fix our meal before we leave as well as plan something quick to eat when we get home. And I need to figure enough time to get ready. Saturday morning and early afternoon are spent working toward these goals in small increments. Little by little. But I find the more I plan ahead, the easier it is to make this busy weekend day work for us. Running around last minute only frustrates both of us, as being punctual is important to Mike.

Saying no.

I remember reading in the Florence Littauer book Personality Plus: How to Understand Others by Understanding Yourself that those with a melancholy personality type (think introvert, perfectionist, detail-oriented) can only handle a small amount of responsibility. At first that made me angry as I thought about how responsible I was. Then I got what she meant by it. Because we (melancholy types) have such a drive to do things perfectly, we can’t take on too much because we’d be in major stress mode all the time. We do things well, so we need to be selective about which projects we take on and how many we allow space in our lives. So many things get my attention–particularly if I’ve been on Pinterest–but I only have so much time and energy. While others might not understand the choices I make, especially in the church community, I have to be true to God, myself, my family, and friends as well as what my mission is on this good green Earth. I have to do what makes sense for the way I am wired.

Observing a daily quiet time.

Spending time on a daily basis with the One who created me is fundamental. It brings me back to center, placing my focus where it needs to be–and on Who it needs to be. When I spend time reading my Bible, I gain insight for my life and a calm sense of knowing God is at the helm.

Taking time for the little things.

Sitting outside in nature. Puttering in my garden. Petting whichever kitty settles on my lap. Stirring a pot of simmering peaches to make preserves. These are the little things in life which I enjoy, and I take the time to do them. Not only are they great de-stressors, but these seemingly insignificant activities make my life richer.

So what has happened?

These small, simple changes have added up over time to produce a different me, a person I’m coming to like more and more. I won’t say I never have that anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it’s rare these days. Life isn’t perfect, but it’s good. Meaningful.

I feel comfortable in my own skin, finally living life at my own pace.

What does living life at your own pace mean to you? Tell us about it in the comments.

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