Stuck

Stuck in traffic on the way home from work today (there is very little in this world that I find more frustrating) I played a game to quiet my angry mind.

Mind, (I said)
What are some things that could be worse than being stuck in traffic?

Well.

1. Being bitten by 1,000 crabs.
2. Eating a tomato.
3. Being crushed in a natural disaster.
4. Being on fire.
5. Eating a spoonful of caviar.
6. Not being able to listen to music again ever.
7. Being stuck in traffic AND have a car full of bees.
8. Being stuck in traffic with high volume Indian music permanently on the radio.
9. Being on an international flight while seated in front of a child who screams/kicks the seat the entire way.
10. Being stuck in traffic behind/in front of/beside a car playing rap music with the bass cranked up.
11. Water torture.

I'm a little disappointed that that's all I could come up with.

The weekend is just not enough.

I love my house. So much so that I dread going to work on Monday because it means leaving my sweet sanctuary and all of the unfinished projects left to be done. It's hard, this lifestyle we've created for ourselves: work all week so you can work all weekend on your home. But it's enjoyable. Mostly. Except when you discover that the "Five-minute Fan" is nothing but a myth. Ceiling fans are evil and should come with a disclaimer that you'll need at least three hours (more, if you have to deal with shoddy pre-existing electical work), some band-aids, and a beer or two to numb the frustration. 90% pre-assembled my arse.

Ahem.

Anyways, in between painting and puttering and laundry and dandelions, I've been working on restocking my shop with some new earrings. All are available at http://www.etsy.com/shop/windowledge. And lots more being added every day!

Silver hoops made with African brass seed beads.

Hand-sculpted fine silver striped hoops.

Australian Opal and copper.

And more African brass shaped into sweet petals.

Collection of strangers

When I lived in Milwaukee, I frequented a fabulous antique mall and bought handfuls of old photographs for 25 or 50 cents a pop. I found some of the photos the other day, having completely forgotten which ones I selected years ago. My odd little photo collection is really starting to take shape.

I love photos of toddlers in snowsuits and men who look too busy to be bothered with a snapshot.

I love photos of pretty women holding chubby babies and furry dogs.

I love postcards for technicolor motels named "El Siesta."

I love photos that quietly take my breath away.

I love photos of women who look beautiful holding a gun.

I love scenic photos with tones that bring me to my knees. Written on the back of the photo below: "Gateway to the Garden of the Gods -- See Pikes Peak in the distance -- the rocks are almost Japonica in color."

I love that the photographer recorded his/her memory of color on a black and white photo.

All of this makes me a little sad every time I pick up my iPhone to snap a picture. Or when I leave digital photo files on my computer for three years and never print them or put them into an album. There's nothing quite like holding a tiny print in the palm of your hand and seeing the whole world unfurl.

P.S. New blog banner. Figured it was time for something a little different.

Kitty-versary

It feels like forever, but I just realized that it's been a little bit over a year since we adopted our cat, Curio.

We rarely call him Curio.

More like: Cat. Kitty. Mr. Naughty. Mr. Meow. Jerkface (and I mean that in the nicest way possible). Little brudder.

I always had cats growing up. My two childhood cats are still alive and well (astounding, really). But into adulthood, I shifted from cat person to dog person and didn't really entertain the thought of having another feline in my life. But last year I got the bug, and so Cat was adopted.

He might wake us up for food at 5 AM. He might gallop up and down the stairs like a herd of 50 elephants. He might chew up my eye glasses, destroy cardboard boxes, and knock shit over just for the fun of it. And oh, we cannot have any wicker/woven furniture or baskets, because he will destroy them, but we love him. Or rather, as my husband puts it, "we have an understanding." And who else would we conjure up wacked business plans for? Examples: Who purchased a giant tuna for a huge sum of money? Cat. Who started offering night-school doctor certification programs? Cat. And who is also an electrical contractor, real estate specialist, arsonist, scam artist, and keeper of minions (we're pretty sure he and the moles in the yard are up to no good)? Cat. Please tell me that someone else out there conjures up ridiculous employment schemes for their cats.

Yes.

Cat: Because I know you read this blog, you're all right, buddy. You're all right.

Nice Package

Got my order today from Shim + Sons, a Portland-based design studio that makes lovely office goods and things for the home.

And they have really, really, really nice packaging.

I'm a sucker for stripedy tape and glassine envelopes.

And little tags.

And string.

And the mousepad I ordered is ok too, I guess. Just kidding. I love it.

Pretty packaging is always such a nice surprise when I order things from Etsy. Some folks really go the extra mile.

P.S. There was a teeny candy tucked inside as well, but I ate it already. So you'll just have to imagine the cutest little bumpy green candy ever.

Bits

The Pacific Northwest strings you along. Long stretches of gray are interrupted by brief, brilliant sunny days. And for a second you think, "This isn't that bad." And really, it isn't.

I don't think it's fair for this part of the country to complain too heartily about the weather. We have, after all, chosen this spot. And some days, the gray is like a blanket and it is a comfort. It holds you in and the world feels just a little bit smaller, a little bit more manageable.

Anyways.

Some things I've been looking at lately.
An incredible discovery. The vine on my fence is Wisteria.

Something is blossoming.

The tulips are in fine form (these are from my garden).

Toes. Do they make you uncomfortable? I rather like them.

Bits. Good buttons, me, and my brother. Long ago.

I could get used to this.

Well well. It’s been a long haul (literally) but we finally have a house and functional Internet and the planets have aligned and the birds are singing and all is well.

I’ve learned a great deal from this whole home-buying process thing. Through it all, I cried (more than necessary), obsessed (way more than necessary), second-guessed myself (normal), and lost plenty of sleep (also probably normal). And in the end, here we are.

Home, home at last.

Here are some things that I love about our new home:

1) The location. Most often when I told people where we were looking for houses, their eyes would get really huge and they’d say, “______? Wow. That’s way out there.” Or they’d chortle about living in “the sticks” or “the boonies” and ask why we’d want to do that. These are incredibly stupid things to say to someone who is making a huge investment of both monetary and emotional caliber. I’ve come to learn that buying a house falls into the category of “Things people have strong opinions about.” It’s nestled right next to “Baby names” and “College Basketball.” People will either love what you do no matter what and will smile and cheer you on every step of the way (big thanks to everyone who did that), or their eyes will get all wide and googly and they’ll stare down their noses at you in disbelief. “You’re moving WHERE?” Snort sniff stomp. I might as well have just committed to naming my first-born “Tallulah Rainbow.”

So yes, I love love love the location. We moved from Very Urban to Kinda Rural. And I love it. I love driving across the wide green farmlands every day. I love climbing up the big big hill and seeing the mountains dusted in snow. I love the moss draped on the trees. I love the brown and white horse in the pasture. I love the fuzzy cows. And I love the signs that say “No Shooting.” Yes, it takes 30 minute (gasp!) to get to work. Guess what, geniuses? It took me (and most other people) 30 minutes while living in the city. Sometimes more. But now I have 30 minutes of pretty countryside instead of 30 minutes of stop and go staring at the “Coexist” and "Simplify" bumper stickers slapped to the Subaru in front of me. Don’t misunderstand: I adore Seattle, and I will always deeply love it. But the urban-ness and the traffic and the many many people were wearing on both of us. We wanted quiet. And now when I open my window at night, I hear frogs and soft rain instead sirens and traffic and shouting.

2) The people. So far, my new neighbors have been amazing, particularly the sweet older woman across the street who knocked on our door bearing carrot cake and her phone number in case we needed anything. Today she came over with a plate of chocolate birthday cake, and we watched her march plates of cake over to all the neighbors’ homes. I love it. She also told us that this morning she saw two deer munching on plants in our front yard. She took photos and said she’d bring us copies. And while part of me was thinking, shit, they just ate my tulip bulbs, the other part of me said OMG DEER! In my YARD! Our other neighbors have been sweet as pie, too, and many of them have been living here for decades. It makes me feel all fuzzy inside.

3) The house itself. It is full of little charms like a claw foot tub and a red porch swing and antique crystal doorknobs. It is sweet and cozy and fits both of us so well it hurts. When I saw this house online, I didn’t think much of it. But when we drove by on a whim one day, my heart skipped and I knew it was the one. When we actually got inside to look at it, I knew it was the one. Sigh. There was so much serendipity in this process it’ll make you sick. But house, I love you.

Now…there are most certainly things that need work. And that’s part of the reason why we loved it. We are big on DIY and experimenting and building/redoing things on our own. This house is the perfect playground for that, without being an overwhelming frustrating money pit. Knock on wood. But right now I am happily typing away in my freshly painted office space that we have, in one weekend, completely rid of all traces of beige and yellow. Please. Just say NO to beige, people. It makes everything look dirty and dingy and old. So a fresh coat of bright white and a little bit o’ color (paint chip said “Lime Light,” which apparently means “blue,” Go figure. Never trust a paint chip) and I have a brand new room.

4) The yard. Our yard is good-sized with lots of mature plants, tons of tulips, daffodils, and other bulbs, and big pretty trees. Our pup can runandrunandrun in a fully fenced yard. It has a shed/shop, which Dave has already done a number on and made totally usable, adding lots of shelves and a potting bench area for me. I don’t know what half of the plants in the yard are, but I’ll learn. And I’ll work on honing my green thumb. I may have hated being outside as a kid and I despised helping with the garden, but now there’s no place I’d rather be than out in the yard with the sun on my back and dirt under my nails. My momma taught me well. I was watching, and the skills lay dormant for awhile, but I’m uncovering that part of me in adulthood.

So I’m happy to be back, happy to be home, and just plain happy altogether. I hope it lingers.