Some call it creative. Some call it crap. I call it getting by and making do. Remember the old carpet roll I fell over?? Well, I have thought of a new use. No hard feelings involved just because it tripped me. It was innocent, this poor roll of sturdy cardboard did not intentionally wreck my ankle and my knee when I fell so loudly Hubby awoke startled in his recliner thinking, I'm sure, the house was falling in.
I had a plan. I've been thinking and Hubby knows how dangerous that is for me and sometimes for him.
The CRAFTING table
witnesses many strange things. This is the beginning of my solution for our over population of Andrew's musical instruments. I have sliced the cardboard roll into random lengths, sawed a slice from one side. The cardboard is rigid but the cut sides have some movement. I have two bike hooks. The cut pieces and the hooks are attached to randomly shaped wooden scraps.
The "Gig Trough", as I like to call it, is lined with felt to protect all these beauties. The cardboard and hook holders have been painted black and mounted to the wall. The Gig Trough holds the butts and the hook/cardboard holders keep the neck protected and solid. I have quite the investment in musical stock and DO NOT want them falling.
One is Jake's, one's to sell, then the newest two can join the doubly protected group. So the winners of the final places will be a Cort, two Fenders, and Alvarez. I fear the banjo will remain in the corner.
How the corners did look.
How's things are beginning to shape up. Have much tweaking to do but all and all the hard part's over.
Andrew's Pride and Joy.
I will not go into detail about the threats if this room ever, ever, ever looks this bad again. Ahhh, gotta love those teenagers especially ones who play music.