It all started when I was laid up sick for a week with a nasty flu this winter. My apartment turned into a disgusting wreck of a place, tissues everywhere, dishes piled to the ceiling (which doesn’t take much since we live in seven foot ceilings), and not a scrap of joy anywhere. On a particular evening in the harsh cold of Texas (sarcasm), I was sleep deprived and feverish, and after a Q and A with the hubby, we decided that I needed to eat something (apparently a piece of toast and a banana just wasn’t sufficient for three meals worth of food). Daniel, being the hero that he is (and also sometimes my mother telling me to eat and take a shower), braved the icy weather and brought home some soup and some kind of delicious orange juice.
Never mind the bowl of hot, savory, potato soup.
Never mind the sparkling orange juice.
After days and days of burning throat and gross stuff coming out of my nose (nice mental image) something caused a spark of happiness to ignite in my chest.
I was infatuated with the bottle! No, not the contents, just the bottle. Even when hubby tried and tried to satisfy me with endless television, sweets, coffee, and cuddles, it was an ordinary piece of glass that made me feel better. Why?
Only fever struck Hannah can explain that, and fortunately, she’s not here right now. All I know is that they made me happy — so happy that I kept thinking about them when trying to fall asleep at night. They haunted my dreams, these bottles that brought about such pleasure and delight. Anyway, I decided that I was going to wash them up, peel the labels off, and paint them to make little apartment sized flower vases, since the only ones I have are the huge ones for large bouquets. Once every two weeks at my job, I replace the fresh flowers around the business, and any still in nice condition, I’m allowed to take home. It makes for a pretty sweet deal, having a constant supply of darling little flowers. My only problem was that I only got a fistful of flowers that survived in a pristine state, and I had nothing pretty to put them in.
This is frugality at its best! Considering I would thrown them away anyway (if I hadn’t been acting like an obsessed insane person), and considering that I already had the paint lying around, this project cost me absolutely nothing! Want to make your own ecstasy vases? Great! I’m glad you asked for detailed instructions, not just anyone could think this hard and come up with such sophisticated and refined home decor. Oh hang on, I think I might have dripped some sarcasm on the floor…
First, you need to acquire the bottle that you’d like to turn into a vase. Sometimes, this requires heavy sacrifice, like drinking an entire bottle of cold coffee or milk. On occasion, it can even require dumping out the husband’s whiskey, feeling overwhelmed with guilt, and pouring it all back into the bottle before choosing something else to abduct. This is natural behavior, don’t be overtaken by any thought of turning back.
Next, you’ll need your brush and your paint. I used a sponge brush because I’d rather throw my paint haphazardly onto my project than to do nice even strokes. I’m just that kind of girl, I guess. Choose your color of paint. Classy ivory? hot fire-engine red, cool periwinkle blue? It doesn’t matter. Grab what you have around and throw it on there! Throw on some more in half an hour to make sure it’s evenly coated.
Now, stand back and admire your beautiful vase! Choose some pretty flowers, for the display and feel proud of your free vase.
Thanks for reading!