Doesn’t milk poured from a glass bottle sound 1950′s-fabulous?

Plus, the milk I buy here in Prague comes in cartons, which always end up sploshing around and accumulating little piles of milk flakes in the fridge.

So I thought a milk carafe was in order, but of course I didn’t want to spend money on one.

Olive oil to the rescue!

It’s the perfect shape, it has a lid and a nice pour spout,

and it makes me feel like it was just delivered by the milkman.

Then I realized the second olive oil bottle I emptied about two weeks later (maybe I need to cut back) was perfect for my homemade salad dressing!

I covered the lids with fabric and mod podge, inspired by this great tutorial from design*sponge. (My only advice on this tutorial is not to overlap the fabric/paper inside the lid too much because you’ll cover the threads and the lid won’t screw on easily.)

So Milkman, you can’t have your bottles back now. I’ve decorated them. But you can come in for coffee.

Move over fridge door, I’ve found a new gallery space.

Actually, I came up with this, one of my favorite brilliant ideas of late, because our European fridge/freezer is only about elbow-high. But I’ve decided the door on our closet (more closet pics here) is more fun than the fridge door as a catch-all, anyway. It’s a happy detail. Now I have all those cute faces and funny kid drawings staring back at me every time I dig in the closet.

Portrait Art by a cutie mc-cute, Abigail, at our church. I don’t know what I like best: our flat tops, my pink pearls, or that we’re holding hands. It makes me happy to think it’s obvious that Dennis and I like each other.

Scrunchy-face birth announcement that makes me giggle. Cute, no? And one of our first pieces of international mail! Double win!

Some of our Kids’ Church kiddos brought their neighbor to Vacation Bible School over the summer. I’m glad I was so vere nice to chubby-cheeked Pehlay, because I love showing this off.

For a month, Dennis sported a cape, yellow afro wig, and a giant letter “U” every Sunday as “Unique Man.” Just one of the reasons he was really the favorite with the kids.

Thumb-printed thank you card from sweet Noah — Dennis’ biggest fan — for coming to his birthday party.

And the one that melts my heart the most, my favorite big blond head! But my nephew needs some company… I’m missing a picture of our niece.

What unexpected place could you put some personal notes and pics that kind of crack you up?

And save for one dreamy trip to Ikea for kitchenware and linens, I haven’t done much shopping since we arrived.

Shortly after realizing I’d have to get all my loot home on public transit, but still smiling. Totally worth bumping into all those old ladies on the tram.

So for the past three months, we’ve been living on exactly four bowls, four mugs, four plates, four glasses, three pots, two pans…. you get the idea. I wondered if this would feel like living without, and lead to periodic and unpredictable cases of The Grumps, but I have to say, it’s really plenty! There’ve only been two times I’ve had to made-due:

1. After a mighty acidic batch of pancakes where I realized my 1/2 cup Ikea measuring cup was in fact a decilitre. What the heck is a decilitre? But trusty Tablespoon helped me figure out that our drinking glasses are exactly 1 c. Bring on the non burn-your-mouth-off-from-too-much-baking-soda pancakes!
2. When I wanted to bake veggies and chicken, but separately. I just created little pans out of foil, and put them on the same cookie sheet (which conveniently came with the oven). I have a feeling this won’t work for banana bread, though. I’ll have to break down and buy a loaf pan.

Probably my favorite advantage to a minimalist kitchen is the natural combatant against the Tower ‘O Dirty Dishes Syndrome. Just simple math, really — can’t dirty a tenth plate to leave by the sink if you only have four. And with so few dishes, it’s faster just to hand wash. I’ll admit, I do seem to do dishes multiple times a day, but I kind of like it. Good thinking time.

The only instance I know I’ll need more dishes is when we throw a big party (which is absolutely on my list… it’s almost Christmas, you know?), but I’ll just go disposable/recyclable, so as to keep our kitchen simple.

Before our big move, we purged more ruthlessly than ever before, but I imagine when we unpack our giant 3-D Tetris cube someday (as seen right here), I don’t think we’ll have any trouble trimming out even more extras and hand-me-downs.

My uber-stylish friend, Kim, not only has an open-invite to live in my closet so she can pick my outfit every day, but her home often serves as inspiration for me (like her light switch candy).

So for this installment of Kim’s Cool House, we look at the arrangement above her sofa. I have to say, I wouldn’t think to pick any of these pieces, but every time I see this I have some serious decor envy. What I find so brilliant about it is the variety: unmatched frames, prints mixed with structural elements (like the “W” she spray-painted black, and the 3-D flower), and an unexpected layout (a grid pattern with some funk to it).

I also think this is a great example of how it’s worth it to splurge on one thing, then fill in with bargain finds. The stunning painting in the middle was $300 at an eclectic gift shop that benefits a local hospital. Everything else was $10-20 at TJ Maxx.

So, Kim, I’m thinking to ensure you don’t grow tired of this, you should swap it out every now and then. And I know just the place to store it. I’ll take good care of it all… I promise.

So I’m pretty happy to have graduated from my necklaces wadded up in a box…

…to staring back at me from suction cup hooks!

It’s the little things that make life happy.

(Note on suction cups: I’d actually hoped to use these imported hooks (thanks for the care package, Mom!) on the tile next to the mirror, but they only work on slick, non-porous tiles and glass. Call me a doofus.)

And I love the space-saving solution my best friend/sis-in-law came up with for all her beads, too.

She put a series of stick-on hooks on the inside of her bathroom cabinet door. Doesn’t this make you want to play dress-up?

The fruit here often comes in these nifty little plastic bins, and I’ve found plenty of good uses for them once they’re empty.

To containerize my dish soap, sponge, and sink stopper.

To corral empty produce bags (I wrap stinky meat packaging in them before tossing).

To create some order in our bathroom cabinet.

And to neatly store bags of food (which seem to be more popular here than boxes of food).

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a hankerin’ for a nectarine.

Don’t answer that. (Besides, now recycling is cool.)

Well, that same sense of pride still wells up when I find uses for would-be tossers. Like jars! Sara Vahle got me started with her recycled jar centerpiece. Since then I pretty much save every jam, salsa, and spaghetti sauce jar I empty, figuring I’ll find some use for them.

Jars have taken on a new level of excitement now that we have zero containers (we only packed clothes and electronics for our move to Prague). So I’m pretty happy with my little salsa jar.

It makes my earrings easy to see, grab, and put back.

Which beats the jewelry box I stuffed them all into for packing… even though it IS a Tiffany’s box… that came with a free key chain from the grand opening I covered as a reporter… because I’m not actually a Tiffany’s kind of girl… though I do love their signature turquoise…),

And I love my other little salsa jar that keeps my wine bottle stoppers from rolling around in the classy/handy cardboard box I repurposed from some Ikea purchase.

And I also love my garbanzo bean jar that makes my art supply shelf look charming enough to belong to Van Gogh, or someone. (Nevermind that my art supply shelf has one box of tiny acrylics and eight paintbrushes.)

Exhale. There.

Any other ideas on how to use empty jars?

I read an article a while ago about a woman who was organizing her closet, and got rid of 2/3rds of her clothes. She only kept what she loved. In moving, we sort of did the same thing. We only brought the clothes we could fit in our 200 pound baggage limit, which amounted to just our favorites.

Good thing, too, because our new closet isn’t the spacious expanse our closet at home is.

But! It’s my new favorite thing!

The closet is in the hallway right off the front door. Ees stylish, no? However, upon opening the doors, my immediate reaction was, “That’s all the hanging space??”

But then I started unpacking our clothes, and realized I can fold and stack most things.

There’s even plenty of room for our fall and winter, on the very top shelves, and in the side cabinets with cool push-doors.

And these collapsible Ikea boxes are awesome. They’ve become impromptu drawers for underwear, belts, socks, etc.

And last but not least, I’m loving the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. So smart! Right where you need it, right when you need it.

Next up on the “My New Favorite Thing” list: open shelving!

It should probably read:

“How To Pack for a Move Overseas”

“How Do You Pack for a Move Overseas?”

“How the Heck Do You Pack for a Move Overseas??!?!?!!”

Shall I back up just a bit? The husband and I are moving to Prague. (Follow this link to read all about it, and this one to see our apartment!) We leave in two and a half weeks, and I just started packing last night.

With a total allowance of four checked bags at 50 lbs each, plus two carry-ons, I’m not entirely sure how to pull this off.

Shoes seem like a good place to start. Maybe I should leave every pair that pinch, pull, or make my toes look fat (after all, cobble stone isn’t terribly forgiving), even if they are the only pair that go with the funky bohemian skirt?

How ’bout my heels? Tote only my favorite pair, because they’re black and bound to go with everything, and I only wear them twice a year as it is?

PJs: take one winter and one summer set? But what about the cute ones that remind my husband how adorable I am? That’s a key ingredient in making a marriage last through culture shock, right?

Under-britches: pack only the ones that don’t give me wedgies, which will mean doing laundry more than once a month?

Suits: since I don’t know what kind of job I’ll have, do I take all 11 of my favorite suits and blazers that have gathered a fine coat of dust across all the shoulders because I haven’t worn in more than a year?

And how to decide which knock-around T’s and tanks are essential? They’re knock-arounds. They’re all essential!

What am I missing? Favorite recipes handwritten by Mom, computers, cameras, that rubber lid taker-offer for the jars I seem to be powerless to open, my hair straightener. How’s it all going to fit? What to pack now? What to bribe friends to bring on a visit? What to pay to have shipped (ahem, $250/50lbs, thankyouverymuch postal service). What to buy there?

Wait! Dangit. I forgot about the husband. Where’s his stuff going to fit?

In the meantime, our upstairs bathroom is UH LOT better!! Whoever installed the toilet apparently liked asymmetry because it’s practically in the tub, and about a baseball field away from the sink.

So one of our improvements was to balance it out by installing a standing cabinet (Ikea, via Craisglist.) We bolted it to the wall over the weekend, so I finally got to fill it!

I used all these ceramics I found at Goodwill in exchange for one crisp $10 bill. Cute organizers… my favorite.

Here’s my golf ball bowl full of extra travel size lotions and potions.

My shelf ‘o luxury. (Thanks for the fancy bubble bath, Kim!)

My extra tooth cleaners. (If you don’t keep extra toothbrushes on-hand, please go buy some. Then, next time I come over and forget my toothbrush, you don’t have to put up with my breath. It’s happened more than once.)

My cute tulip bowl ‘o hotel soap, and glass compote ‘o Q-tips®.

And my jar ‘o loofahs, and cup ‘o … follicle removers.

Now. Wasn’t that fun? Or maybe I just got a new camera and think everything is beautiful now.:)