Tales of Me and the Husband - Page 199 of 207 -

February 1, 2010

Recent finds.

Found these beauties at a Brooklyn’s Beacon’s Closet.

GO there.

And while there, go to Buffalo Exchange

(though, I just discovered, there are Buffalo Exchange’s all over the country

so don’t travel to Brooklyn just for that.)

Question is: who would get rid of them???

As the saying goes, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

Don’t even ask me how much they were. You’ll be so jealous. ($21.)

And this pretty little thing, I really loved.

Again, cheap.

Love, love, love a bargain.

January 28, 2010

Redecorating with inspiration.

Well, here we are.

We’ve got books off shelves, newly arranged by color. Some brown paint on the walls. And one almost empty room.

{Inspiration via designsponge – no, it’s not my room. Yes, I wish it were.}

It’s been a bit of a dream, per se, to have a color-arranged bookshelf since I saw it somewhere long ago. It makes looking for your book a real pain in the booty. Or, maybe, if you’re a visual person it’s way easier to remember the color than the author. Who knows?

But when all is said and done… beauty over comfort, form over function.

Now, back to the paint. The brown is making me nervous. I don’t usually paint with such dark colors. It’s really dark. Dark can be cozy though, right? Right?!?! This room uses the exact same color that I’m using. However, it’s not scary. It’s not scary at all.

{via Apartment Therapy}

So, I suppose I will trudge ahead and make our room brown. Bear with me. I’m nervous.

January 27, 2010

Such whimsy! Such color!… and an afternoon at Costco.

Flipping through magazines, I am constantly ripping pages out and tucking them away for a dream renovation one day. Make no mistake, I am content (most of the time) with everything I have now. And I am blessed beyond measure. But, a girl can dream, right?

This next home on Apartment Therapy sort of had me drooling. The color! The artwork! The antiques! The color (it needs to be said twice)!

It’s true, I think, what I’ve heard decorators/designers say: “If you love it, use it, and it will all work together” (or something like that… I mean, I meet sooo many decorators in my daily life, it’s hard to keep them all straight. Right.) This house makes me trust that statement.

{Like here for instance. I’m not sure I would’ve trusted that an old oriental rug would’ve looked good here. But alas, it works. Oh, those silly designers know what they’re talkin’ bout.}

{One day I’d like a steel kitchen island like so, but only two or three times bigger than this one. Go big or go home, right?}

{Such whimsy! Such color (three times, now)!}

This house is somewhere in the Boston-area. So, would they mind if I just showed up for coffee?

——————————

{Sure, they look cute. But looks do deceive.}

I went to Costco yesterday evening. It was that 5-6 o’clock hour where you’re totally aware of the fact that everyone is home eating dinner and that’s where you should be too. But, kids needed to be picked up, husband was still teaching, and a tire needed to be fixed (Yes, at Costco. They’re a multi-purpose facility).

The two older boys had just finished b-ball. They were hungry. I understand. Hunger is something I’ve experienced too, boys. But, there was going to be dinner at home. And $200 of groceries bought that very day. Pizza at Costco wasn’t on my radar.

One came close to tears. The other begged. And begged. And begged. The other tried to go back for a second sample moments after taking the first. I tried to lose them–racing through the aisles before they caught which direction I was heading. The other climbed up the tires in the tire section.

“Don’t climb on the tires.”

“I’m not.”

My eyes were deceiving me, I guess.

“Pizza is just $2!”

“No, it’s $2 times 4. There are four of you.”

“I’ll pay for everyone!”

“You don’t have any money!”

Begging didn’t stop.

“I am dedicated to my ‘no’ now more than ever. Otherwise, you’d believe this begging and whining worked.”

“Can we get cinnamon toast crunch?” (in bulk, mind you. It’s Costco after all.)

“I don’t do cinnamon toast crunch.” (It’s dessert, masking itself as breakfast cereal.)

“Why not?!?!?!?”

“Tell you what. You feed your future kids cinnamon toast crunch until they are blue in the face.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Good.”

As we finished shopping and waited in the tire section I declared to them and hundreds of surrounding rubber-smelling tires:

“I will never come to Costco with all four of you ever again, so help me God.”

And mark my words, it is true.

January 26, 2010

happy birthday to my mother.

There really aren’t enough ways to say all the things I’d like to say to and about my mother on her 62nd birthday. I know some people say that, but I say it and I really mean it.

My mother is my best friend (except for my husband, but that’s different). She’s wise, sophisticated, kind, and lovely. She overcame a lot to give her four daughters a life they deserved, and a much better childhood than her own. She is great in the best of circumstances and will shine in the worst. She brings me peace. She’s someone I can only hope to resemble as I grow up. I’d like her knowledge on all things health (if they could give a PhD for self-learned health and nutrition, she would have it), on her never-ceasing faith in Jesus, and on how to do the perfect split. I love you so much, Mom. Happy, happy birthday.

……………………..

Today is another important person’s birthday.

We only met one brief time, and neither of us knew then how a few short years later our lives would be
so intertwined… without ever meeting again (at least not here on this earth).

Happy birthday to Shannon who isn’t here anymore, but who is probably celebrating her birthday in heaven right now.

She was a wife, mother, daughter, and friend. And, as I understand it, she was really good at all of them.

Shannon, I really can’t wait to talk to you one day.

January 25, 2010

Don’t hire a 9-year old to do your marketing.

William came home from school a bit ago. He has been completely obsessed with telling everyone and their mother about the fact that I have this small (very small, smaller than he’s even aware of) home art business going. I think he dreams of big dollar signs to buy that yacht (for real, he’s obsessed with the idea of owning a multi-million dollar yacht and talks about it like it’s a real possibility) he’s been eyeing. His latest marketing victim? His 4th grade teacher. He came home happily announcing that his teacher would like me to make her a Silly & Sage something.

This should be interesting.

“What does she want, William?”

“A beach scene,” he says.

I told him I don’t do beach scenes, I don’t have true artistic talent, free-hand painting is my not something I’m good at, and that this sale (that he, no doubt, would want a portion of) he had in mind just wouldn’t be happening.

He really didn’t get it.