*Lyrics from Radiohead’s song Bloom from their album The King of Limbs. I mean no disrespect by using the lyrics in this playful manner – the song, the album, both amazing. Worth every penny and every minute of listening. Every time.
There’s a light (shining at the Frankenstein place). There’s a ligh-hi-high-hi-high-hah-ha-hight (burning in the fireplace!). There’s a ligh-high-uh-hight in the darkness of everybody’s life. There’s also a light in my office now. So, woo-hoo!
Many moons ago I began compiling bits and pieces for my inevitable office transformation. Up until a few years ago I would have self-identified as a hair colorist who was struggling to find my place in the world. Now I’m not afraid to say I’m a budding artist and designer, and a student of interior design (albeit a former student). Before our kitchen renovation began I had a little tiny area of the kitchen that I referred to as my “hair studio.” Now I have a fully-fledged, proper office. With a portable drafting table, portfolio pieces, and countless implements for design and drawing. (Perhaps not countless, but who wants to count that sort of stuff?)
I can make a change, I can start a fire…*
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*Lyrics from Janelle Monae’s song Locked Inside from her album ArchAndroid. If you don’t already own this album, buy it. It’s incredible.
New things are happening all around us. Google+ just (soft) launched, we now have Spotify in the U.S., and now I have a place to hang my step stool. (I don’t see how those things don’t relate, so stop laughing.) Though not as exciting as new technology, Jeff and I managed to get excited about a mini-makeover of sorts on our basement stairway. Which I now call the kitchen closet.
It’s a low, low road you’ve gotta roll down before you find your way…*
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*Lyrics from Grace Potter & the Nocturnals’ Low Road from their self-titled album.
I’ve said it before, and it’s still true: there is something inspiring about having teams of people at your house doing work that always makes me want to do more things. After Candy and the ladies (and gents) of Ladies Landscaping came to refresh our yard we determined that if we were ever going to stain the fence, now would be the time. Before any more plantings get put to bed, before the weather turned, while we had the vicarious energy boost from the Ladies’ day and a half microburst of yard beautification. It was time, and we got to it.
She’s like the wind, through my tree…*
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*Lyrics from, well, if I have to tell you then you didn’t watch Dirty Dancing for three weeks straight when it played at the Calvin Theater in 1987. In which case, I can’t help you.
When we lost our beloved pup, Bec, we knew we wanted to bury her in the yard. It was where she was happiest, where she longed to be during all hours of the day, all times of the year, and where she took her last breath. She belongs to this place, if for no other reason than that she loved it, and we wanted her to remain here, even if we don’t. Of course I couldn’t stand the thought of actually digging a giant hole and chucking her into it, so we had her individually cremated. We also knew that we wanted to give her some sort of marked spot, so we’d know where she was, and be able to know she wouldn’t be accidentally dug up by any future owners. So we decided to plant a tree. A dogwood, because she was a dog, and one with pink blossoms because she was a girl. (My 8 year-old niece figured that rationale in seconds, so we knew it was the right choice.)
I won’t forget, I swear…*
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I am sad to report the passing of my beloved baby dog, Bec.
My beloveds.
May was a rough month. She was diagnosed with lung cancer on the first of May, and by May 30th she was gone (hence the blog absence). We are devastated by her loss, and are still adjusting to the new reality. We’re still coping, and trying to put our life into an order that has never existed. Until now I’d never known my husband without Bec – they were a package deal when we first started dating. It’s strange for both of us to have the whole house to ourselves… there’s no one to bark at the mailman, there’s no one to try to eat our dinner, or to get startled by the loudness of sound effects in movies, no one to get scared by the thunder and lightening, no one to greet us when we come home, and no one to curl up at the foot of the bed at night. We miss her dearly, and are doing our best to be grateful for our time with her, and to remember her in her healthiest days, rather than how sick she had become.
We both know that it’s time, So walk on by…*
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*Lyrics from Fitz & The Tantrums’ song Winds of Change from their album Pickin’ Up the Pieces.
Ok, I’ll fess up. I’ve been slacking on the blog lately. I blame the dentist. Or rather my wimpy constitution. (Turns out minor tooth pain is all-consuming, even when it’s planned.) And I blame my epic lack of emotional fortitude. Watching that bathroom come together inch by inch really damaged my psyche. And made me want nothing to do with finishing it. But I have to. It’s my job (the hubs is busy like the dickens, and has NO time to fiddle around with joint compound, grout sealer, or primer and paint).
We’ve come a long, long way together, through the hard times and the good…*
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I have to celebrate you, J.J., I have to praise you like I should.
After weeks and weeks of incrementally improving the family bath, and after hours and hours of extra effort and care the tile is officially DONE! I know, I can’t believe it either! Scheduling work on the weekends can be over (for now, until we need the plumber back), and we can finally, finally break down the work-room protections in the guest room. Seriously, I can’t even tell you how ready I was/am for this to be over. Of course I still have tons of painting, patching and protecting to do (as well as figuring out window treatments and shower curtains), but J.J. is done, and for that, I am soooo grateful.
If I was from Paris, I would say ooh-la-la-la-la-la-la-lah…*
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It’s almost officially spring. And it’s snowing. Like a real, proper, accumulating in inches, with wet pant legs and muddy dog feet snow. This after Friday was easily 65 degrees, sunny (and windy), where I was outside with only a t-shirt on (and pants, too!). Tis what it is to be a New Englander. I know the it won’t last, but knowing that the yard is pregnant with bulbs makes me want to turn my hair dryer on to melt the snow a little faster, to urge spring along by any means necessary.
Cupcake Monthly: March, take two
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When you have a good friend, and they have a birthday, and you’re craving sweet things anyway… well, you extend your only-one-batch-of-cupcakes-per-month rule and say, okay, maybe two. I love baking, and frankly I needed the shift in focus (nothing like watching news, or worrying and crying about devastating natural and man-made disasters a la post 9/11). I needed a little cheer to lift me up, and make me remember why we all love life so much. It’s because of cupcakes, obviously.
Cupcake Monthly: March
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No, you didn’t miss February. I did. I’ve been working hard on, er, correcting my eating habits, and creating an exercise routine, and I just couldn’t mess with anything tempting in February. But, March is my mom’s birthday month, and I simply couldn’t let her go without a tempting treat on her birthday (what sort of daughter would that make me?).