Monday, April 16, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
I made a decision in the way I was going to live my life 25+ years ago after purchasing a gorgeous, well-made, all oak bed with spindles that I was totally in loooooove with. Before I owned it. Once we saved enough money or decided to use our whole tax refund (I can't remember which it was), we drove to Chadd's Ford, PA and bought it.
Hunt Country Furniture.
Gar basically told me I would have the bed we bought for the rest of my life. Okaaaay, already!
It's never enough, is it? If we allow ourselves to, we can make certain that we will never be happy with what we have and we will never have enough. I didn't like that feeling and it made me feel foolish and shallow. So, that was just me. I realize that some people look at the way I felt, and the attitude that I decided to adopt, in a different way. These folks don't believe in "settling." They think you should keep striving until you have it all and/or have the best. But, in my head, I knew that if I stayed on that journey of "wanting stuff," my life would be miserable; I would be ungrateful and discontented always.
So I stopped longing about houses that I would never have and places I would never see. But, every once in awhile I see something that makes me just a little wistful, wishing just a wee bit and knowing I will never have it.
You see, I saw this child's room in a magazine called Homes by Design. It's sort of a style magazine, but it can only be sent out to clients by people in the real estate business. You can't buy it on the newstand. So I searched and searched to find their website, because I know I wanted to put it on Pinterest and I wanted to be able to attribute it to someone or some company. I found out that it is in the April/May issue of this magazine in a story called "Detail Oriented" and which was photographed by Phillip Ennis Photography. It's published by By Design Publishing.
And now, for the room that took me back to my drooling, dreaming, wishing and wanting days. It's a beaut.
I showed this picture to the Doodle and she said, "Grammy Sue, Avery wants to go in there." The kid definitely has good taste. ;)
PS- I haven't been on that furniture company's website in several years. But I had to show you this - look what they have now! Is it the best of both worlds? Enh~ See- it's never enough even when it's both!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Here in U of MD Terp country, the motto is "Fear the Turtle!" I've always found this to be humorous in a ridiculously overstated kind of way. Really? A turtle? And not even a snapper or something aggressive! I might be wrong, but I don't think any of their outstanding characteristics include any to fear. I will say, though, that they are purported to be resourceful and adaptive. But, I digress. This is not really a post about Diamondback Terrapins or turtles, or even, the University of Maryland. (Britt- the barnacles are just for you, Sweet Pea. :) )
Photo courtesy of www.wilddelaware.com
This post is about a toilet brush. I have never, ever, even thought of them as treacherous. Or dangerous. Or fear-inducing. After my recent go-round with this particular type of toilet brush, I will never take them for granted again. I will fear the toilet brush.
In my day to day work life, I am a Property Manager, among other things, at my job with a local real estate brokerage. We have one residential building of 15 apartments that I oversee. I have heard some strange things. Some funny things. Some absurd things. But, one of the ones that I shook my head over and wondered aloud, "how in the heck does this happen?" involved a teenage girl, a hair brush, and, you guessed it, a toilet. Said young girl somehow dropped her hairbrush in the toilet as it was flushing. I was dumbfounded as to how she managed to be involved with a brush and a flushing toilet at the same time. Down it went. Sooner than later, the toilet began to back up. Problems. A plumber. A $200+ bill that the mother/tenant had to pay because the problem was due to their negligence/ improper use of a device in the apartment. Bummer.
Back to the pictured toilet brush. Now, I have this particular model and have had it for a couple of years. (Is that proper or do these things have a shelf life that should be observed? My mother never addressed this issue with me, so I could use some education here.) See the protruding smaller brush on the left side? To those of you who don't know this tool, that is the brush that cleans under the rim of the toilet. A genius little addition designed to make toilet cleaners' (like me) lives easier.
Somewhere along the line, I acquired another (although inferior) of this type of toilet brush. It's located in our Master Bathroom. (Well, what's left of it is there. :( ) This past weekend, I was dutifully cleaning the throne, and was happily and meticulously scrubbing away and things were going quite well! I was just about finished and as is my usual practice, I flushed the toilet while administering one final flourish with the brush and when I pulled it out, the bubbles dissipated, and the flush completed, I observed with horror that my tool was SANS brush #2! The smaller brush was nowhere to be seen! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN? My thoughts flew immediately back to the teenage girl in 1D and how I had derided her in my mind and with our maintenance man about her flushed hair brush. Forevermore, I will "Fear the Toilet Brush!" Many dollars, much to my chagrin, will be put into someone's pocket to extract the errant, little, innocuous, "time-saving" Brush#2, . Gar of Life, as usual, was patiently forgiving.
Life has, on many occasions, taught me not to "wish" for selfish things. It's taught me not to be so adamant in my beliefs. It's taught me not to be so black and white. It's taught me that making fun of people isn't productive. Life has taught me that my extreme positions might just come around and bite me in the hiney.
To Teenage Girl in 1D- my sincere apologies for calling you a dimwit! I, now, too, will humbly wear that appellation. And a hair shirt.
Monday, April 2, 2012
When I became a grandparent, it was bliss at first sight. It still is. But, it has had some continuing bumps and grinds, (not with the object of my abject affection, for sure!) but with The Parents, one of whom is the fruit of my womb. That is surely a run-on sentence, but you get me, right?
I saw a poster on Facebook recently whose message I wanted to emblazon on a t-shirt, make into a bumper sticker, print and hang in my kitchen or just plain blurt out to everyone or anyone who would listen. It reads:
This post came about because of toenail and fingernail polish. I thought I was doing a nice thing, looking for some way to bring pleasure to my 29 mo. old granddaughter on a rather dismal weather day. She loved it and was sooo incredibly patient about waiting for it to dry and being careful not to use her fingers or hands too much immediately following. She seemed to understand all about what I was telling her and she was so thrilled with the final result. I texted pictures to various interested parties, and got some widely varied feedback- some good, some not so. I felt terrible and wanton and irresponsible for my actions. It had seemed such a simple thing. And don't look too closely- I can see now I did a sub-par job! But, that's the nice thing about 2-3 year olds- they don't care, yet, that you aren't perfect.
Grown children can be brutal sometimes. I saw another quote that nailed my feelings after today's events -
Do I hear any "amens?"