DIY Sherlock Wall Stencil: WE ACTUALLY DID IT!

I'm pretty pumped about this one, you guys.

Not only am I about to show you how to make large-scale wall stencils on the cheap, I'm *also* going to show you the completed Sherlock accent wall we just finished for our friends Chris & Christie. And you guys, it looks goooooooood - if I do say so myself.

First, to remind you what it looks like, here's a photo of the Sherlock set via Sherlockology:

That iconic black-and-white wallpaper is flocked, which is why the interior of the damask pattern looks almost solid black from most angles. It's also not technically black-and-white: the background is actually a metallic cream-and-pale-blue stripe, while the pattern itself is a deep chocolate brown.

Now here's a look at our almost-finished wall:

 

 We used a cream base coat and deep chocolate brown paint - but you can see the effect still looks very black-and-white.

 If you look closely you can see the top and bottom two rows haven't been touched-up yet, so those rows have thinner interior lines. I'll explain that in a minute. Keep reading.

When we were faux finishers John and I made our own stencils all the time, but this is easily the most difficult pattern we've ever attempted. However, IT CAN BE DONE, if you have the patience for it. (And if your walls are textured, then if you're willing to do a lot of touch ups afterward.) 

If your stencil pattern is small you can cut it out of a clear report cover or overhead transparency; those work great for stencils. If your pattern is larger than 8X10, though, here's a cheap way to do it:

YOU WILL NEED:

- A printed pattern

- clear spray lacquer, any sheen

- a roll of clear packing tape

- This Krylon spray adhesive

(Not sponsored, that's just the best of 3 different brands we tried)

- small foam roller

- latex paint

First you need a pattern. Luckily the Sherlock wallpaper is all over the internet, so it's easy to find. Even better, John's already done the work for you. We made ours the right size (we think), so grab this graphic below, go to Kinko's, and have them print it full-size. It should cost about $3.

 Here's our print-out from Kinko's:

Tape your print-out down to a work surface outside, and spray it with clear spray lacquer. Spray it until the lacquer completely saturates the paper, front and back:

 

We used Minwax, but any clear lacquer should work.

You should also saturate the entire paper, not just around the design like we did here. (We learned this the hard way.) You can trim the paper closer than this, though; all that excess edging will only get in the way later.

The reason we're lacquering the paper - and the reason you should NOT skip this step - is because water and paint will seep into your paper after you cut out the stencil. If your paper isn't sealed, it will swell up and start to fall apart. Not good.

When your paper is fully dry again, bring it inside and tack it down to a table:

Our Black Ray Of Sunshine

This past week John and I've had a little miracle dropped in our laps. Or rather, in my rack:

A post shared by Jen Yates (@epbot) on Apr 19, 2018 at 12:11pm PDT

:D

This little ball of teeth and claws is a 5 week-old-kitten, and her story is pretty incredible.

It started about 10 days ago, after we lost Tonks, but a few days before we lost Lily. I was up to my eyeballs in scheduled feedings and stress and grief, at the end of my emotional strength. John had already been gingerly suggesting we try adopting a new kitten for Lily, in the hopes of rousing her spirits.

I was against this plan.

It was Saturday afternoon, I think, when John again suggested a kitten. I explained - again - why that was a terrible idea, and not 10 minutes later, John's phone blooped with a new text. It was our neighbor, Rebecca:

"Hey, I just found a kitten on the highway. Do you want a new cat?"

Rebecca had no idea of our circumstances, no idea we'd just lost Tonks. John also claims this was NOT some nefarious plan the two of them concocted behind my back, though I still have my suspicions. And to be fair, Rebecca is the sort of sweet soul who's always bringing in lost dogs and hunting down their owners.

Rebecca told us she first thought the kitten was a black hair scrunchie there in the middle of the road. The asphalt was bleached gray so everyone could see the black lump, and cars were swerving to avoid it. When Rebecca realized the lump was alive, she immediately pulled over to rescue the tiny thing. She tells us the kitten was splayed spread-eagle, all her claws out, hanging on for dear life. Other than being completely terrified, though, the kitten seemed perfectly healthy. So Rebecca scooped her into the car and headed home.

Once home their adventure continued, because Rebecca couldn't find the kitten anywhere in the car. It was just gone. Fast forward an hour and a disassembled dash board, and she found the kitten nestled deep inside the car's guts, completely silent, only her open eyes visible.

Rebecca has dogs at home, so her house wasn't the best environment for a tiny terrified kitten. That's when she texted John.

How do you say no to a story like that, you guys?

You don't, that's how.

So we agreed to foster her, and set the kitten up in our guest bath. We gave her towels and hidey holes and food and water, and then mostly turned our attention back to Lily.

Then Monday happened.

I won't talk about that.

Late Monday John had to get us home again from the vet, and we were both so wrecked I knew it was dangerous to drive. Desperately I started talking about the kitten to get our minds off it, about how we had to feed her and bathe her and set up this-and-that for her. So we got home safely, and that's what we did: we immediately set to work preparing her food, scooping her litter, and giving her first bath. Kitten was loud and demanding and DEEPLY offended by said bath, so between combing out her fleas and disinfecting the bleeding scratches all over my arms and then holding her in a warm towel for hours until she fell asleep, it was impossible to focus on anything else.

Her eyes are almost a completely true gray - it took me about three days to realize they're actually a little green.

That night I couldn't sleep. I lay there exhausted and wrung out, but my mind's "off" switch ran away cackling, forever just out of reach.

After several hours I got up and left the room, quietly shutting the door so I wouldn't wake John.

Then I just stood there outside the bedroom door, frozen. Most nights when my insomnia is that bad I pace the house, and the sound of my movement rouses the girls. They'd come over with yawns and meows, and then I'd pick up Lily, and we'd walk together. Round and round the house. She loved being held on my left shoulder, and I'd bury my face in her side as we'd make long loops through the main rooms of the house. Somehow Lily's fur always smelled faintly of graham crackers, and that sweetness never failed to calm me.

So I stood there in the quiet and the dark that night, unconsciously waiting for soft steps I knew weren't coming, and felt... lost. I didn't know where to go or what to do. "What now?" I thought. "What do I do now?"

Then through the quiet and empty stillness, there came a tiny meow from the guest bath. Then another, louder and more insistent.