It has been a long while since I took photos at home.
Too many doctor appointments and dreary days sitting
at the computer...but today I had a reason to
get snapcrackalackin.
My place may or may not get spotlighted in
a magazine, and I'll not say more until
I get the word (and then you will
be invited for champagne).
Wait, no.
I also wanna brag that two of my paintings
sold today in Seattle to a cool and chic East Coast cat.
Now I'm done for real.
Remember this majorly foxy grain sack from
A Beautiful Mess?
It's starring as a runner on the dining room table now.
The sunlight's pretty, oui?
The round table that used to be in the foyer
is downstairs in the mancave for now
where the men watch Fight Club
and work puzzles.
I can't do puzzles. Isn't it so sad that all
I can do is refill Mountain Dews,
stand by, and applaud them?
The plates are by Rae Dunn and have been
our everyday dishes for many years now.
One more ridiculous random story
(you are not allowed to judge) and some good news to share.
The story is kind of about the wool handknit throw
on the bench in the kitchen, but not really.
I found it the other day at Goodwill,
and it was this pathetic yellowy-white hue
(not cute & creamy as it appears at left).
I figured someday I would dye it.
A few days later I had this scary doctor visit
followed by a brain MRI followed by two days
of waiting, and in my anxiety I decided: screw it.
I cannot live with that color in my house.
I don't think I am up for shaving an already
radically thinned baby fine head of hair
if it's a lesion or a tumor, and I am 98%
certain I cannot face another year like last year.
I dipdyed the exquisitely knit throw
in a vintage punchbowl
filled with black paint and water,
and it was SO GRATIFYING.
Seeeeeeeee...this I can change.
And now that throw is a color you can't really name.
(Those colors are always my favorites.)
And my brain seems to be ok.
And I'm not having panic attacks but
rather ocular migraines (without pain).
And life is good, friends.
Peace to you right where you are.
