Until I had the brainstorm to repaint it somehow to use in my guest/craft room, currently in the making. The size, shape, and hands of the clock were things I did still love about it, and those I could work with.
I removed the glass and painted the gold plastic frame a shade (like turquoise) that I liked. But after a time, I realized I wasn't quite happy with it.
Meanwhile, I pondered how I really want this room to feel. What says both "comfort" and "inspiration" to me?
An old cotton quilt.
I want the room to be a place that inspires quilt-making, and of course features a comfy quilt on the bed.
A room that'll let my mind drift back to happy places. Kansas is one of those places. Kansas with its sunflowers, blue skies, and windmills.
That's it! Or should I say "Eureka!"? (An aunt and uncle of mine once lived in Eureka, KS.)
Windmills! The perfect memory and quilt pattern all in one on a round clock.
So I cut a wedge out of yellow cardstock to use as a template for the paddles.
I chose a pretty blue floral print I had in my scrapbook paper collection. I've always loved this paper.
I needed a second blue for the space between the paddles. The lighter one offered better contrast.
The "space" between paddles is simply the width of 2 paddles.
4 paddles + (4x2) spaces = 12 "hours".
But--ew!! That turquoise was now REALLY wrong.
Good thing I had made a fun trip to Michael's with a gift card the day before. I bought 16 bottles of craft acrylic paint in every color of the rainbow, for future projects.
Well, as they say, the future is now.
I mixed these two (Denim and Lavender, by Craft Smart) for the perfect Delft blue of the paper.
There are few things in this world I enjoy as much as mixing paint.
My maiden name isn't Dauber for nothing.
Stirring paint relaxes me, bring my blood pressure down.
Getting the color I want causes my stomach to do happy flips. I can't explain it.
Maybe, in a small way, I feel a bit of the way God might have felt when He looked upon His
creation, one day at a time, and declared it good.
Good is a rich, deep word.
Next step: apply Mod Podge to seal and shine the paint job.
I'm a happy girl in the presence of Mod Podge.
(I'm ambidextrous when I don't have to do fine detail work with my right hand. Or hold a big ole' camera with it.)
Next I needed new numbers for the clock. Digging through my stickers, I found these.
So I added the four I had planned for the blank spaces.
I took it to my husband, who has a grey hair for every problem I've ever taken to him. To console him, I say I'm the reason he hasn't turned grey, he's "gone platinum"! (He went from zero to platinum in our first six years of marriage.)
But I digress.
He fenagled and hmmphed and poked and prodded and balanced on one foot and practically stood on his platinum head to get the fool hands to work. No use. Most times he can fix anything. Not this "time."
"I think it's just a decoration now, Zo," he concluded.
I've always said that time seems to stand still when I'm creating .
Now it truly does.