A couple months back I had the bright idea to switch my office and bedroom around, which turned out to be a monumentally bad idea. The office was relocated to the back of the apartment, past the kitchen and away from the street view and living room that offers me motivation when I sit down to work. Meanwhile, the bedroom now had the street view, and - at night - a streetlamp burning its essence into my brain as I slept.
I switched the rooms back around today, as well as tossed out an old sofa that I gained possession of when Sue and I finally stopped being roommates four years ago that had long outlived its usefulness.
After I switched the rooms around I did some moving around of the Chris Voit Botanic Garden, now in its third uninterrupted smash year in my apartment, and started getting inspired to fully utilize the front room for the sunroom I always aspired it to be. I think I'll get down to that order of business after Mothers Day.
Back in the day I would have been content to stack some milk crates up, drape a piece of fabric over it and call it a divan. Someone I dated briefly called it "early bachelor," 'cause I also was alright with having my California king mattress and box spring rest on the floor with just a simple fitted sheet covering it (I may have bought some actual bedding for it once she started sleeping over, although I doubt it which was one of the many reasons we only dated briefly). That was 27, 28.
Now I'm a month away from 39 and walking into Nordstroms looking for the right sized storage benches to parallel the front room windows and obsessing about the right tone of sagebrush to complement the tile in the fireplace mantle when I paint an accent wall.
I'm probably gonna make someone a really good wife.
Spending the weekend in working through a stomach virus. There are better things in life than running to the bathroom every half-hour to drop a soupy deuce. Like, everything. But the worst is past and even Mom called in unannounced because she had a feeling that something was wrong with me. I just told her that it was a really bad case of gas.
I haven't always been a paragon of refined taste. It has taken some mistakes along the way to get to where I am. 'Course, if I'm still using phrases like "soupy deuce" there's probably a ways to go still.
Case in point: during my military service I listened to a lot of, well, crap music. Bands like Extreme, for example:
And they're getting back together, too. Who asked for that?
I'm usually not one to follow tagged memes; I already have more recipes, music quizzes and good luck charms than I know what to do with. But when El Hombre en Chicago tags you, you might want to take a second look.
The rules of the meme:
1. Pick up the nearest book 2. Open to page 123 3. Find the fifth sentence 4. Post the next three sentences. 5. Tag five people and acknowledge who tagged you.
"I will sit in your lobby for hours and talk like Carol Channing. And don't worry I sound just like her. 'Charles never touched me in 48 years of marriage.'"
My good friend Elizabeth is the Operations Manager of the Western Colorado Botanic Garden in Grand Junction. While I try to figure out when a good time would be to go visit her, she started a blog where she's showing the day-to-day operations at the garden, in particular what's blooming.
At Walgreen's just now to pick up some stuff for Emmy and Little League practice is ending. I'm walking toward the checkout when I see this grown ass man raising a baseball bat at his kid. I don't know whether or not the guy was joking with his kid (and if he was he probably shouldn't in that manner in public), but the stare I locked on him could have bored through his head if he met it.
A couple months back I had the bright idea to switch my office and bedroom around, which turned out to be a monumentally bad idea. The office was relocated to the back of the apartment, past the kitchen and away from the street view and living room that offers me motivation when I sit down to work. Meanwhile, the bedroom now had the street view, and - at night - a streetlamp burning its essence into my brain as I slept.
