Suckered in by Pinterest.

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, oh, she went to Pinterest to look for one tiny little thing and got sucked in and wasted six hours wandering from lovely thing to lovely thing before she finally came to and escaped.

Well, yes, that has happened, but not this time.

This time I went to Pinterest with a purpose.  I'd seen a pin where one could magically transform nasty dirty grout into clean, shiny, like-new grout.  And all it required was a simple formula of ingredients everyone has on hand.  Now I am not a naturally tidy person.  I hear snickering - my husband has extra sensory perception when it comes to me confessing faults, LOL.  It's true though.  Left to my own devices (read: no tidy husband to guilt me into picking up, putting away, and generally plowing through my natural distaste for doing things "now" as opposed to ten years later when I've really thought about it) I would veer towards general pig-pen-ishness.  So to be consumed with the desire to apply myself in a generally unacceptable effort was significant to begin with.  And effectively it closed my eyes to the wonders generally available when the Pinterest browser window beckons.

So why is she complaining? you think.  I know, you thought it nicely, but still.  You thought it.

I'm complaining because Pinterest lied.

The magic formula mixed up easily.  It was fun when the vinegar made the baking soda gurgle and swoosh.  I'm the rare oddball that likes the smell of ammonia, so that was no problem.  I cheerfully splashed it all over the worst section of the kitchen and let it soak (i.e. went to check Facebook).

Upon my return, magic had not yet happened, so I ventured out of my comfort zone and applied a scrub brush.  This was, candidly, exactly what I had hoped to avoid, so my cheerfulness was diminishing.  No real result.  The little voice in the back of my head, who had been suspicious anyway, made its skepticism quite clear (for a little voice the chorus was quite loud).

Now, splashing magic formulas on floors is quite a bit less involved than getting said magic formula back up OFF the floor.  Much grumbling ensued.  Not all of it under my breath.  There was quite a bit of "resting" in front of Facebook.  Finally I ventured to Google, having lost all faith in Pinterest.  I ended up treating the worst spots with various other methods.  All of which required far more elbow grease than I was frankly willing to expend.

Finally I dug out the steam mop and went over the entire area at least three times. I generally get an extremely self-satisfied feeling from using the steam mop, so you can imagine how internally puffed I was after THREE applications.  Then I washed the two area rugs, laid them nicely on my handiwork, and called it a day.

This morning my eye happened to catch the surface of the floor.  I expected a gentle gleam of shining good health (in a tile sort of way, of course).  Instead, I saw a streaky, blotchy mess.

Words really can't express my sense of betrayal.  Quite a few frustrated and extreme words did give it a go in my head, along with a deep dose of mental acknowledgement that cleaning is not the best use of time EVER and deep cleaning clearly was even less useful.  Followed by digging in the cleaning closet and hauling out the (dusty) Swiffer WetJet.  After a few applications (very light on the elbow grease, my elbows are showing alarming signs of chapping) it looks better.  Still not the glowing gleaming result I spent a day trying to achieve, but at least presentable.  But you know that my inner slob is going to have a good time of it for the next few weeks - very little will be accomplished, I can sense it already.

So, what's the moral of the story, and what does this have to do with scrapbooking?

Well, mostly I wanted to complain.  I could have spent a lot of time scrapping yesterday had Pinterest not led me so absurdly astray.

However, sometimes the same sort of scenario happens when I scrap.  I will see something, or want to create from a vague mental picture and it goes horribly, horribly awry (curiously, it bothers me much less than this particular event, which I can only assume is because of the minimal amount of elbow grease expended while scrapping).  The problem usually arises when I have multiple photos.  One (or even two) is so easy, but several ... too many decisions, and I get into trouble.  However, as I shared with my Creative Team, I have sixty jillion taken-from-the-road photos from our recent trip.  Not all of them are scrumptious, but they all show the journey and I have trouble saying "I'm not going to use you" to any of them (at which point one of my talented ladies expressed concern that I was talking to my photos).

However, in the spirit of necessity being the mother of invention and where there's a will there's a way, I exerted my little grey cells (would that be brain grease?) and made myself some basic multi-photo templates. They aren't full templates, with embellishments and paper layers - I have a bad habit of deleting that sort of thing anyway (being extremely stubborn and independent when it comes to scrapping - I want to do it myself, like a three-year-old).  But they do take care of the basic placement of multiple photos with a minimum of thought and effort and I'm quite excited to have them in my scrapping arsenal:

The numbers are separate layers - I thought they might be useful if one wanted to journal a list of descriptions, but they are easily eliminated.  The white photo frames are on separate layers as well - you can clip a paper to them if you need contrast, or just want a fun touch.

Here's the one page I managed to fit in amongst the ill-fated exertion:

It's simple, but it lets the photos take the limelight, and I like that.  I did play with the shadows a little, mostly because I enjoy the process.

After they finished laughing at me for talking to my photos, my team created some beautiful examples.  I can only wonder if I inspired them to have a chat with their own pictures, but the results are awesome:

The last three also use this week's new release, Winter Into Spring.

This has grown into a ridiculously long post.  If you are still with me, congratulations!  I don't know if you are just determined, or crazy, LOL. Or maybe Pinterest has led you astray, too ;)  Misery does love company!

In the meantime, new releases are at their introductory sale price (30% off) through Sunday, so check them out here in my shop and get a little scrapping time for yourself.  (I suggest giving Pinterest a wide berth!)