That desk? The one I found all lonely in a corner at a garage sale? Remember her?
She’s a big ‘un. Solidly built. None of that veneer or particle/pressed board on her base.
At some point she was given a blond laminate top. Which . . . uh . . . . . → Read More: Zee Desk of Indigo Batikishness
Part I: I’m a Winner!
I’m sure you’re tiring of reading about bootcamp. But I just can’t shut myself up about it.
When I started bootcamp last September I was a lot of things–but “fit” of any kind was not in the list. And really, I was only marginally . . . → Read More: I’m a Winner! I’m a Loser! I’m a Winner/Loser!
Sisterhood, I’m going to be very honest with you: for the first time ever in the history of The Other Such Household, I’m totally in love with our Christmas tree.
Like, sit-and-gaze-lovingly-into-its-many-glittery-branches LOVE. Like, encourage-The-Child-to-rearrange-the-bottom-over-and-over-again-because-I-adore-seeing-her-next-to-it, two-of-my-fave-sights-in-one-place LOVE. Like, I-don’t-care-if-it-stays-up-til-May LOVE. Like, I-am-now-going-to-subject-you-to-multiple-pictures-of-it LOVE.
I’ve never felt this way about . . . → Read More: The Other Such Tree
Project Number 5, the final project, the living room.
In the beginning there was a great open space:
I did what I could with it . . .
. . . which, after painting and new carpet, was basically to just move our stuff into it. Then . . . → Read More: Project No. 5: Warm Living
Once upon a time I met a boy who was a much, much better cook than I. Some things have not changed.
And yet, as you now know, I am set to unleash my inexperience on a large group of friends. Tonight. WOOOO!
I’ve spent a couple of weeks . . . → Read More: Project No. 4: The Other Such Kitchen
There was a day back in which there was no Marge. Not here anyway.
And on that sad, lonely, pre-Marge day–that day back before the walls and floor had even been prepared for the likes of a Marge–the dining room looked thusly:
Enough dwelling on bleak . . . → Read More: Project No. 3: A Room Befitting A Marge
As simply put as anything ever is around here:
The guest room started as . . .
. . . and has been converted into something a little less, well, young-local-football-team-loving-boy’s (or painter’s-tape-loving-person’s? Because truly, when we taped off the baseboards last year, impossible to tell where wall ended . . . → Read More: Project No. 2: In the Interest of Well-Rested Grandparents
Nine months of living in a blank canvas (or, you know, a decade spanning four houses) and a girl begins to realize that if things are ever going to adorn her walls she is going to need help and motivation.
Motivation (or at least its blood-relative, inclination) came in the form . . . → Read More: Project No. 1: Whole Lotta Polka
The Husband wants to take me to a concert featuring a couple of Texas music artists. Here comes the part where some of my friends might disown me: I am so unfamiliar with that genre of music that I’m not even sure I described it correctly.
It’s not an unfamiliarity based on dislike. It just . . . → Read More: Oh, But It’s a Mighty Intoxicating Smell That Has Enveloped My Feet!